Devoted Mother, Dearest Friend
Chapter 1
Joseph Coretti was a tailor in San Francisco, not a tailor to the high and filthy rich but a solid craftsman whose clientele was made up of men who recognized talent and bang for their buck. He had been Jarrod Barkley's tailor for years and was pretty familiar with how Jarrod's body was changing as he aged – a pound here, a pound there, requiring an alteration of suits made earlier, and one big episode where Jarrod's house burned down and he required a whole new wardrobe. Coretti hadn't seen Jarrod for a while when Jarrod's secretary sent him a message for an appointment, saying Jarrod wanted three entirely new suits. That surprised the tailor, and he wondered if some misfortune like the fire had struck at his favorite lawyer's wardrobe again. He wasn't ready when Jarrod came in and the real reason became obvious.
"Good heavens," Coretti said when he saw the change in Jarrod's physique. His suit coat was too tight across the chest and the upper arms, and a bit loose at the waist. It wasn't the normal weight gain Coretti had seen in many a client as he aged. It was just the opposite.
Jarrod Barkley had always been broad in the chest and shoulders, but now he was clearly in a larger shirt, and his waistline – which Coretti expected to see expanded – was trimmer than it had been since Jarrod first started coming to him years ago. Jarrod chuckled as he left his suit coat over a chair and took off his tie. "Not exactly what you expected?" he said and began to take off the shirt.
Coretti fumbled for words. "Most men put the weight on around the middle and until now you've been following that pattern, although perhaps you've not been as quick about it," Coretti said and appraised his client's changed physique. "What happened?"
"Working too hard," Jarrod said. "The doctor ordered me to take a month off, so I helped out around the ranch, and voila!" He spread his arms.
Muscles that weren't there before were obvious to Coretti. He shook his head. "When was this?" he asked and went for his tape measure.
"A couple months ago," Jarrod said. "I held off getting new suits just in case I lost the muscles when I went back to my regular job, but I've been giving Brother Nick my weekends and the muscles aren't disappearing, so I have to bow to my tailor to make me some new suits so I don't look like a complete hick in court."
"You're keeping the old ones too, I take it?"
"Yes, just in case," Jarrod said. "I'm bound to go back to being a normal middle-aged man sooner or later."
Coretti laughed as he set about measuring. "The ladies were already melting over you, Mr. Barkley. You will have a hard time fending them off now – assuming that's still what you want to do."
The people closest to Jarrod knew the circumstances surrounding his marriage and becoming a widower. He made no bones about being very careful in starting any new relationship, although even those closest to him may not have known all the reasons he was reluctant. The guilt he still felt over his wife's death was something that was never going to leave him, he knew but never said out loud, and very few people knew that just because he was not committing to anyone new, he wasn't being celibate, either. But now he said, "We'll see what happens," and left it at that. "I need two new suits for court, blue-gray preferably, and a darker suit for more formal occasions."
"And formal wear?"
"That too, but the business suits have to come first," Jarrod said.
Coretti went on with the measuring and when he was finished, he said, "You are much bigger in the chest and arms, but also more muscular in the legs and back. Around the waist – trimmer and tighter. Whatever you are doing, Mr. Barkley, it's been good for you."
"I know," Jarrod said. "I've been feeling a lot better, too."
"Let's look at fabric," Coretti said, "and I assume you will need new dress shirts, too."
Jarrod nodded. "Five of them. I was able to find work shirts in Stockton, but I'd also like you to find me a couple really good work shirts for my brother Heath. I've been borrowing his – we're the same size now."
Coretti laughed as he led Jarrod back to the workroom. "He is much younger than you are, isn't he? It must tickle you to be the same size."
"Tickles me, but surprises me too," Jarrod said.
"You were always on the slender side too when you were younger," Coretti said. "But of course, our bodies change in many ways as we age. They just don't usually get better, as yours has."
"Thank hard work and my family doctor," Jarrod said, and the stopped at the racks where Coretti kept his cloth.
They looked carefully, and Jarrod chose three different light wools for his three suits. He also chose white linen for the dress shirts he wanted. Coretti did not have the work shirts Jarrod wanted for Heath, but he said he could get them fairly quickly. "It will take a while to have the suits ready," he said, "but I can get my seamstresses working on your dress shirts tomorrow morning."
"That's fine," Jarrod said. "I'll be in town for another week – can we have the shirts ready by then?"
Coretti nodded. "I can also have one of your suits ready for a first fitting."
"Excellent," Jarrod said.
XXXXXX
True to his word, when Jarrod returned for the first fitting on his first new suit a week later Coretti had all the shirts ready for him to take with him to Stockton. When Jarrod arrived back there and saw Nick waiting for him at the train station, and he saw how Nick was looking at the packages he was carrying, Jarrod knew he would probably hear something like "Didn't you bring me anything?" so he pre-empted Nick.
"Shirts for me and Heath," he said, handing Nick the packages.
"You already got Heath a couple new shirts," Nick said.
They started walking to the street together. "Most of these are mine. I needed new dress shirts. But in compensation, dear brother – this being Thursday, I will give you not only Saturday and Sunday afternoon, but tomorrow as well. I am your servant."
"Well, now," Nick said, "since I'm short-handed, I'll take it. A storm went through the night before last and took out a lot of trees and fence off toward Adam Howard's land. I can take Heath off ramrodding that repair crew tomorrow and put you in charge."
"In charge?" Jarrod said. "You actually trust me to boss your crew?"
"Pappy, you're the bossiest man around here. You even have Mother beat now and then."
They made it to the buggy Nick had brought and threw Jarrod's things in the back. They were about to climb in and be off when a woman's voice came from behind them. "Jarrod Barkley!"
They turned and saw a woman Nick knew only in passing, but Jarrod knew all too well. "Olivia," Jarrod said, a shade awkwardly. "I haven't seen you in ages. The last I heard you were up in Lodi."
She was dressed simply, wearing a sun bonnet and a blue cotton dress. "I was up there for quite a while. My mother was ill."
"I hope she's improved," Jarrod said.
"Sadly, she passed away a couple weeks ago and I came back here."
"I'm sorry to hear that – that she's passed, that is. Not that you're back home in Stockton."
There was an awkward silence then before Olivia said, "Well, maybe we can catch up sometime, but right now I have to get off to work. I took a job at the dress shop."
"Good," Jarrod said.
And then Olivia smiled and looked him up and down, saying, "You are certainly looking marvelous these days, Jarrod. Whatever you're doing, keep it up."
Olivia went on her way then, and Jarrod watched her, smiling, remembering the time they'd had together a year or so earlier, during what he thought of these days as his errant phase. Although it was tough to think of it as errant when he remembered Olivia now.
When he looked at Nick again, Nick was wearing a suspicious smile. "What?" Jarrod asked.
"You've got an admirer," Nick said.
Jarrod wondered what to say and ended up saying, "We're old friends."
"Uh, sure," Nick said and left it at that. He knew about Jarrod's "errant phase" but he did not know all of the women his older brother had been involved with at the time. He had a tendency to wonder, every time Jarrod spoke to a woman, whether there had ever been more between them than Nick knew about, and he wondered now, but as usual, he just left it alone. In a lot of ways, he really didn't want to know.
Jarrod climbed into the buggy, Nick climbing in beside him. "All right. Who's on the crew you want me to ramrod?" Jarrod asked, happy to be getting off the subject of Olivia.
"Ross, McKnight, new guy named Boniface and a couple others."
Jarrod flinched a little at the name Boniface. A memory stuck him in the throat. "Boniface?"
"Tim Boniface, new around here," Nick said.
They started driving off, and Jarrod grew very quiet. Tim Boniface was not new around here at all and he wondered why Nick didn't remember that, but then he recalled that neither Nick nor anyone else in the family knew about that case he had against the man years ago when he was first with the District Attorney's office. Boniface hadn't lived here then. He had come into Stockton from Lodi for a couple days and been accused of horse theft, a very serious crime. Jarrod had prosecuted him, but the jury had found him not guilty. Boniface had disappeared back up toward Lodi.
It had been a bitter defeat for Jarrod. He thought he had overwhelming evidence against the man, but the jury disagreed. Jarrod hadn't let it bother him for very long and never mentioned it to the family. There were very few cases he mentioned in those days because there were just too many on his plate. But now here was Tim Boniface back again and working for his family, and the bitterness of that defeat came up on Jarrod again like bad food.
Nick noticed. "What's the problem? You don't want to ramrod?"
"No, no, that's not a problem," Jarrod said.
"It's not Boniface, is it?" Nick asked.
Jarrod considered telling him about Boniface, but then decided to hold off, at least until he'd had a chance to talk to the man himself. After all, maybe he really was innocent of that horse theft charge years ago, or even if he wasn't, maybe he'd stayed out of trouble since then. It wouldn't be right to bring up something that old if the man wasn't trouble now. "No," Jarrod said. "Nothing to worry about. Something just flew into my head for a minute and stuck there."
"Olivia?" Nick asked.
Jarrod gave him a sideways glare.
"We'll get the old attic cleared out for you," Nick said. "A couple days of hard work and you'll be too tired to think about the clutter up there."
Jarrod finally let out a slight chuckle. "That's been the program, Nick, and it's worked pretty well so far."
"And it was my idea," Nick reminded him.
Jarrod nodded. "And it was your idea."