COLORS
One
"Jarrod!" Heath called across the yard, and Jarrod turned from the beeline he was making to the house and came over.
Heath said, "I want you to meet one of the new hands. This is Mike."
Jarrod smiled at the young man – and the world turned completely around, in ways no one even knew yet.
Jarrod knew the new hand right away, and the new hand knew him, but Jarrod saw something in the man's expression that kept him from acknowledging it. So, Jarrod just extended his hand and said, "Welcome to the Barkley ranch. I'm Jarrod Barkley."
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Barkley," the man said politely. "My name is Mike Delaplaine."
Jarrod didn't ask him anything else, concerned he might accidentally expose something Mike Delaplaine didn't want exposed. He just said, "I hope you like it here, Mike."
"Thank you, sir," Mike said, tipped his hat to both Jarrod and Heath, and went off to the bunkhouse.
Jarrod watched him go, and remembered the man so well that he went straight back in his mind to where he had first looked into those deep blue eyes.
Saltville. Virginia. Action against the salt works in October, 1864. Jarrod was an officer in the 5th Colored Cavalry, and Mike Delaplaine with his soft curly brown hair and his deep blue eyes was one of his cavalrymen. One of his negro cavalrymen.
The rest of the memories came flooding back – the way the white troopers taunted the negro troopers, until the battle, when the colored troops attacked the salt works and took heavy casualties. After that, it was a different story. Suddenly the white troops were stunned into reality. Negro men not only would fight, they would fight harder and smarter than a lot of white men. Suddenly plenty of white men were standing up for their negro brothers, not ridiculing them.
Jarrod remembered something else. He remembered being wounded that day. He remembered who took him off the field.
Jarrod knew he'd never forget those blue eyes and that soft brown hair and that face almost exactly the same color as his own after a summer of sun. You don't forget a negro man who looked like that.
"Are you coming in?"
Heath's voice jolted him back to the present. "Sorry, what?"
"Good Lord, Jarrod, how many times do I have to ask?" Heath asked with a chuckle.
"Sorry," Jarrod said. "Got lost in the past there for a minute."
"Do you know that new hand?"
"No, no," Jarrod said. "He just looks like somebody I knew once. Come on. Let's get some dinner."
They were stopped when they overheard another one of the new hands talking to another. He was saying, "That guy, that Delaplaine, there's something about him rubs me the wrong way."
Heath stopped and confronted him. "Sweeney, isn't that your name?"
The two men stopped, and the man who had spoken said, "Yes, it is."
"Sweeney, you just got here, so I'll make allowances, but we don't go for any problems between the men who work for us. If he rubs the wrong way, you make it right and get over it, or you plan to move on."
Sweeney looked from Heath to Jarrod and back again. "It's only that there's something strange about him – "
Heath cut him off. "I don't care. Keep your opinions to yourself and learn to work with the man, or move on."
Sweeney nodded slowly, and he and the other man walked away.
"I hope you haven't hired on a problem," Jarrod said to Heath.
"Blame Nick, not me," Heath said. "But I'll talk to Nick and we'll keep an eye on things."
Heath went into the house, but Jarrod kept an eye on Sweeney walking away for a moment before he followed.
At dinner, Audra was her usual bubbly self, going on about the day she had, the places she rode her horse to, the new hands she met – all the things that started to put her brothers to sleep.
"And that new young man, Mike I think his name is," she said, and Jarrod's attention was caught. "What a handsome young man! His eyes are the bluest I've ever seen. Wherever did you find him, Nick?"
"Stockton," Nick said simply. "Said he just came in from further up the valley. Worked his way west after the war."
"He was a soldier?"
"So he says. Knows his way around horses, I'll tell you that."
"Boy, howdy," Heath agreed. "That new stallion started acting up on Jim Connor, almost threw him. Mike took hold of him and started talking to him and lickety split, that horse calmed down and wasn't any trouble the rest of the day."
"Got that right," Nick said.
Her brothers could easily see that Audra's interest in Mike had just turned into infactuation. Any man with a way with horses grabbed Audra right by her heartstrings.
Jarrod decided to probe a bit. "Did this Mike say what unit he was with in the war? North or south?"
"North, somewhere in Virginia, that's all he said," Nick said. "Cavalry, I expect, but that's just a guess."
"Well, if he has a way with horses, I expect Audra is going to want to get to know him better," Victoria said.
Audra actually blushed.
"I plan to put him on the barns this Friday," Nick said. "Maybe see how he is with shoeing. Might be that extra blacksmith we need."
Jarrod rubbed his forehead. How the heck was he going to ask the question without asking it? Or maybe Nick and Heath were just the wrong men to ask it of.
He looked at Audra. She had that moonstruck look about her. Jarrod rubbed his forehead even more.
"What's the matter, Jarrod?" Victoria asked.
"Huh?" Jarrod said. "Oh, sorry, just a bit of a headache. I think I'll go get some air, see if I can walk it off."
He got up from the table and made his way outside. The men who were coming in from the herds tonight were wandering around the yards, making their way to the bunkhouse and their own dinners. Jarrod sighed. His chances of getting Mike Delaplaine alone were very slim but he had thought it was worth a try.
The stallion was alone in the corral, pawing the ground a little, trotting around a little, but did not seem really overstressed. Jarrod took a minute to lean on the rail and watch him. He was a beautiful animal, buckskin colored but a little darker around the nose. He seemed to see Jarrod for a moment, but ignored him.
"Good evening, Mr. Barkley."
Jarrod turned when he heard the voice. It was Mike, who was coming toward him from the barn.
"I was just putting his tack up," Mike said.
"He's a beautiful horse," Jarrod said. "I hear you have a way with him."
"I got a lotta years with horses," Mike said, his soft southern accent becoming more noticeable.
Jarrod looked at him, and looked beyond him and around him.
Mike said, "There's nobody else around, Cap'n Barkley. It's dinnertime."
Jarrod smiled a little. "I thought it was you. You don't forget a man who pulls you out of a deathtrap at the risk of his own life." Jarrod extended his hand.
Mike smiled and took Jarrod's hand. "I was only a boy in those days, barely seventeen years old. I had a lot to prove – WE had a lot to prove."
"Well, you proved it to me. You grabbed the regimental colors with one hand and me with the other, as I recall. When you hired on here, did you know it was my ranch?"
"I did. I didn't expect you'd remember me, though."
"The blue eyes alone would make me remember you. They're bluer than mine."
Mike looked around behind him. "I took a chance when I signed on."
Jarrod thought he guessed what the chance was. "You're passing as white?"
Mike nodded. "I AM white, Cap'n. My father was the white planter who owned my mother. Her father was the white planter who owned HER mother. We were told the practice went back at least one more generation. I'm so white, I get sunburned in the summertime."
Jarrod chuckled. "Funny thing. I don't."
Mike smiled too, but lost it right away. "But I was born a slave. The old slaveholding rule – one drop makes you a nigger and a slave."
"Not anymore," Jarrod said.
"It ain't any better in the south than it ever was, Cap'n. The old slaveholders invented new laws – you gotta have a contract with a white man to work for him, or they arrest you and you have to work for the state for no pay for as long as they say. Slavery didn't die, Cap'n. They just renamed it. That's why I had to come out here and pass as white. I didn't fight in that war just to end up back where I was."
"I take it the people you've worked for and with don't know you were a slave."
Mike shook his head. "They don't, and they don't know I'm mulatto, and I'm hoping I can count on you not to let anybody know."
It was Jarrod's turn to shake his head. "I don't expect it ever to come up. But Mike, do you have any papers saying you're white?"
"No, no papers. Cap'n, if I can't count on you not to tell people what I am, then I gotta leave, tonight."
"You can count on me," Jarrod said. "I owe you my life."
"It was just a little leg wound."
"If I'd been captured, the Confederates would have killed me for being an officer in a colored regiment."
"We all knew that. That's why we made sure you got off safe."
"I knew it, too, when I signed onto your regiment."
"Why'd you do it, if you knew what it could cost you?"
Jarrod shrugged. "Seemed like the right thing to do. When I see men fighting for their freedom, I gotta jump in and help."
"We didn't always say so, but we did appreciate that, Cap'n."
"Well, we'd better stop the 'Captain' stuff. The war's over, and if my family hears you call me 'Captain,' they'll put two and two together."
"All right, then, Mr. Barkley. It is good to see you again, sir."
Jarrod smiled. "It's good to see you again, too, Mike. I hope you like it around here."
"So far, I like it fine."
Two
When Friday arrived, Audra remembered that Nick had said he would put Mike Delaplaine in the barns for the day. She found herself unusually excited about seeing him again, and it wasn't just because she was entranced by his way with horses. She was attracted to him, to those blue eyes and his soft curly hair. She hadn't been attracted to a man like this in quite a while. She was going to enjoy it while it lasted.
After breakfast, she went out to the barns and found him there in the blacksmith shop, together with the regular blacksmith, an older man named Booker. They had their heads together beside the forge; Booker seemed to be showing Mike how it worked.
They looked up at her, and she was startled. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were so busy."
"Not a problem, Miss Barkley," Booker said. "I was just getting Mike here used to the forge we use. Mike, have you met Miss Barkley?"
Mike nodded his greeting, saying, "We met the other day."
Audra came a little closer. "Are you working on anything in particular?"
"Just a plain old horseshoe," Booker said. "Did you need something?"
"No, no," she said quickly. "I was just looking – for some help saddling my horse. I thought I'd go for a ride. Could you spare Mike for a moment?"
What a transparent story, Audra said to herself, and felt like an idiot.
But Booker said, "Sure, go on, Mike, see you back here in a few minutes."
Audra flashed a smile at Mike as he came along with her to the stable. She was silently kicking herself all the way, wondering how she could possibly be more obvious.
But he was so handsome, so polite. She moved her horse out of her stall, and Mike fetched the bridle. He had it place on the horse in moments, then put the saddle blanket and saddle onto her. Audra tried not to watch his muscles moving under his shirt, but she couldn't help herself.
"You do that so easily," she said, making up an excuse for staring at him.
"I've been around horses all my life," Mike said.
"Did you grow up on a ranch?"
"No, ma'am, on a farm back east."
"Where are you from?"
Mike hesitated, but said, "Virginia, ma'am."
"Oh, I've never been there," Audra said. "My brothers were both there during the war. They say Virginia is almost as beautiful as California is."
"Well, it suffered a lot from the war," Mike said.
"Oh," Audra said. "I guess I didn't realize that."
Mike tightened the cinch under the horse's belly and straightened up. "There. She's all ready for you, Miss Barkley."
He looked at her with those blue eyes and she felt herself melting all over the place. "Thank you, Mike, " she said and led her horse out of the barn.
She mounted and rode off in a hurry, both happily excited and nervous about her few minutes with Mike Delaplaine. A good long ride was in order.
At dinner, Audra could scarcely contain herself, wanting to ask if Nick intended to have Mike permanently at the barns. She prattled on about where he ride took her and other things she had done to pass the day, but she avoided mentioning Mike, even though inside she was bursting to find out where he would be tomorrow.
"I'll be in town late tomorrow night," Jarrod said, "so don't hold dinner for me."
"What are you working on?" Victoria asked.
"Couple of things," Jarrod said. "Mostly catching up on things I've had to let slide."
He had been frowning all during the meal. Victoria said, "Is that what's giving you the headaches lately?"
Jarrod chuckled. "I guess so. Eyestrain."
"Maybe you need glasses," Heath suggested.
Jarrod gave him a dirty look. "You just try staring at ink on paper all day long and see if it doesn't make your head split open."
"You need to put it away and come out fixing fences with us," Nick said.
"Maybe you're right," Jarrod said, "but the paperwork won't do itself."
"Too bad, we could use the extra help," Nick said.
Audra saw her opening. "Are you thinking of getting Mike back out there?"
"No," Nick said. "He's doing fine in the barns. Booker likes him, and Booker doesn't like anybody. Says the man obviously has some experience shoeing horses and making tools in the forge."
Jarrod saw definite happiness in Audra's eyes, but he let it pass.
Suddenly, there was a commotion outside, men shouting at each other. Nick, Heath and Jarrod got up from the table and hurried outside.
It was one of the new hands, that Sweeney, pointing and saying something to Mike, who just stood straight as an arrow and took it. As the Barkleys approached, they heard Mike say, "I told you that shoe was gonna come off this morning."
"You said it would last the day," Sweeney said.
"I said it MIGHT last the day," Mike said. "If you couldn't take the time for me to reset it, that's on you, not me."
"All right, enough," Nick said, intervening. "What happened, Sweeney? Did the shoe get thrown?"
"It did, and the horse nearly pitched me over his head when it did."
"But he didn't."
"That's not the problem! The problem is this boy doesn't know what he's doing – "
Mike's temper got up at the word "boy." "I DO know what I'm doing, and I told you to let me reset that shoe, but you were late and you went out of here without letting me do it."
"All right, all right," Nick said. "That's enough. No harm was done. Mike, can you reshoe Sweeney's horse tonight?"
"I'll get right at it," Mike said.
"Then we're all done here," Nick said. "Sweeney, you let it go. Get some dinner and calm down. Tomorrow's another day. Go. Get some food. You'll feel better."
Sweeney glared at Mike as he turned to go. Mike stood his ground, glaring back.
Nick gave Mike a friendly clap on the arm. "Let it go, Mike. Reshoe the horse, get some dinner, get some sleep."
"All right, Mr. Barkley," Mike said and went back into the stable.
Heath said, "Nick, this is the second time I've heard Sweeney have a problem with Delaplaine."
Nick asked, "So who's the problem, Sweeney or Deleplaine?"
"So far, I'd say Sweeney. He's a hothead and he's zeroed in on Delaplaine for some reason. I don't know why."
"Well, let's keep an eye on this," Nick said. "Sometimes a belly full of good food can end a fight better than anything else."
Nick and Heath went back inside. Jarrod lagged behind a bit. He sensed this was going to be more of a problem somewhere down the line. He didn't like that feeling, but the men were Nick's and Heath's domain, not his. He let the problem go for now and went back into the house.
Three
The next day, Jarrod saddled his horse to head into town, and as he left the barn, he overheard Audra and Mike talking in the tack room. He couldn't hear the words and he did not want to eavesdrop. It made him uneasy, but not so much that he felt the need to do anything about it. Yet.
As he rode off to town, Audra and Mike came out of the tack room. "I've been here and there since I came west," Mike was saying.
"You haven't felt the need to settle down?" Audra asked.
"No, not yet."
"What are you looking for?"
Mike smiled at her. "The same thing anybody's looking for – the right place, the right people. Just haven't found it yet."
"It's been a long time since the war ended."
"Yeah," Mike said, but that was all he said.
"You've been wandering from job to job all that time?" Audra continued.
"Oh, I've stayed at some for a while – one I stayed at for three years. Back in New Mexico."
"Why did you leave?"
Mike hesitated. He felt uncomfortable getting into details, but how do you say that politely to the boss's daughter? "It was time," he just said.
"Well," Audra said. "I hope you stay here for a while. Mr. Booker likes you. And I like you too."
Mike noticed she called Booker "Mister," even though he was just another hand. Age had its privileges, he decided. He liked that about her, that she treated the hands with respect. "I like him, too. He's a good teacher, treats me like I know what I'm doing when I do know what I'm doing."
"Nick and Heath are happy with your work, too. I hope you decide to stay here for a long time."
Mike looked down at his feet. He really didn't know what to say. Something was happening between him and Audra, and he felt very conflicted about it.
Audra saw he was uneasy. "Would you saddle my horse for me? I want to ride out to see Nick and Heath."
"Sure," Mike said and went into the stable with her.
He saddled Audra's mare as he had the day before and walked her out into the yard. He held her while Audra mounted, and when she smiled down at him, he smiled back.
"I'll see you later, Miss Audra," he said.
Just that sentence made her feel much more – something. She nodded and took off.
Her stomach tingled even more than it had the day before.
Jarrod spent several days straight at the office in town, working long after dinner and arriving home too late to do much checking in with the family. To be honest, he'd been so busy he hadn't given a thought to Mike or Audra before one morning he got a very plain, "We'll see you at dinner tonight, Jarrod," from his mother.
So, he made it a point to quit working and come home by about six, in time to share a drink in the parlor before dinner with his family for the first time in over a week.
He got a "Well, look whose decided to be seen with us again," from Nick when he came in through the door.
Jarrod took his gunbelt off and laid it with his hat on a table near the door. "I'm sorry, who did you say you were?" he went along with the gag.
"I'm your brother Nick, this is your brother Heath – "
Jarrod waved his hand in the air and went for a glass of whiskey. "I'm sorry I've been so absent," he apologized. "I'm going to have to go to San Francisco in a couple weeks, and I've got to catch up here first."
"How long will you be gone?" Victoria asked.
"At least two weeks," Jarrod said. And he got glares. "Don't go getting angry with me. Remember, Mother, it was your idea I go to law school in the first place."
"Is that how it came about?" Heath asked. "I always thought you were born spouting off court precedents."
"Actually, I was never that interested in more schooling until I got home from the war," Jarrod said. "That's when Mother and Father lowered the boom on me – go to law school or plan on herding cattle for the rest of my life."
"That's not a bad life," Nick protested. "It's been fine by me."
"And me," Heath said.
Jarrod raised his glass. "To each his own."
"You could always have done something like blacksmithing," Audra offered.
"Yeah, you've learned quite a bit about blacksmithing lately, haven't you, little sister?" Nick said.
"It's interesting work," Audra justified herself.
"I'm sure it doesn't have anything to do with that blue-eyed young man working with Booker," Heath said.
"Well, it certainly isn't Booker," Victoria chimed in.
"He's a very nice young man," Audra protested, "and a very good smith. Not to mention his way with the horses. He has that stallion doing anything he says, and my mare just purrs like a kitten when he grooms her."
"Oh, I'm sure your interest in him is entirely professional," Nick taunted.
Audra didn't reply. Jarrod looked from her face, to his Mother's, then to his brothers'. Then he dove right into what he really wanted to know. "So, has he asked you to a dance yet?"
"Well, no," Audra said. "I think he might be a little shy about asking the boss's daughter out."
"Not that you haven't dropped hints," Nick said.
"I haven't!" Audra said.
"You want me to?" Heath asked.
Audra tossed the napkin she had on her lap Heath's way. It fell far short, but he did a little dance to avoid it anyway, and everyone laughed.
Except Jarrod, who only smiled, and his heart wasn't really in that.
Four
Jarrod stayed working at home the next day, barricading himself in the library with only a break every now and then to rest his eyes and stretch his back. He looked outside each time to see how the weather was, or to see whatever else there was to see. He was all right with everything, until he saw Audra go into the blacksmith shop, then come out with Mike and go into the stable. When they came out, it was more than five minutes later, and it was without her mare, or any other horse.
"What exactly is it that worries you about Audra's interest in Mike Delaplaine?" his mother's voice came over his shoulder.
He jumped a little. He hadn't even heard her come in. "Just big brother worry, I guess," he lied. "I'm so much older than Audra, and I've practically been her father since Father died."
"Hmmm," Victoria said, with a tone that said she didn't believe what he was saying. "You've never shown so much interest in a man Audra has shown so much interest in. What is it about Mike Delaplaine? Do you know something I should know?"
Jarrod wondered how he was going to handle this. As usual, his mother was seeing right through him, but he had made a promise to Mike, one of his troopers in the war, a man who had saved his life. "Mother, will you trust me on this one? Mike's a fine man, but – will you just trust me on the rest of it?"
"All right," Victoria said, "but as Audra's oldest brother and adoptive father, perhaps you ought to have a talk with her and find out if she really is interested in Mike."
Jarrod nodded. "All right. As soon as I can."
Victoria gave his shoulder a squeeze and left. That was good enough for now.
Audra came in almost half an hour later. Jarrod could hear her come in through the front door and call for their mother. He got up from the desk, rubbed his forehead again, and went into the foyer.
Audra wasn't there. She had to be somewhere around here. "Audra?!" he called.
She came down from upstairs. "What is it, Jarrod? I was just going to clean up a bit."
"Come talk to me for a few minutes, will you?"
He motioned her into the library, and she went obligingly, even though she had no idea what he wanted. He rubbed his forehead again, pacing a bit, once they got into the library, and then he stopped at the fireplace.
"Are your feelings for Mike getting to be more than – your feelings for other friends?" What a rotten way to phrase the question, he immediately thought.
"What do you mean?" Audra asked.
"Are you finding yourself falling in love with him?"
Audra was surprised at the question. First, Jarrod never asked that of anyone she had been interested in when it was this early in the relationship and second, she thought she had hidden her feelings pretty well. "I'm not sure. He's a very nice man."
"I know he is. That's not why I'm asking."
"Then why are you asking?"
"How much do you know about him?"
"Not very much. He grew up on a farm in Virginia where he learned to care for horses. He's a very good smith, and the animals really take to him. Jarrod, he's a kind and gentle man, and he's been nothing but a gentleman with me. What are you concerned about?"
"You, getting hurt. I think you'd better convince yourself that any relationship between you is not in the cards."
Audra was flabberghasted. "Why?"
"I just think it's best."
"I don't."
"Audra, don't get in any deeper with Mike."
"Why?" Audra asked. "Just tell me why."
Jarrod felt more torn than he had in years. He wanted to answer her, but he had made a promise. "Honey, I can't tell you why. I –"
"Don't call me 'honey'!" she finally blasted out. "Just tell me why!"
"I can't," Jarrod said. "I'm sorry, but I can't."
"Jarrod, I don't understand you," she said. "You've never been like this before, so high and mighty over the hands who work for us. You've never had it in your head that we were too good for them."
"And I don't have it now," Jarrod interrupted her. "I've made a promise that I have to keep."
"Is it about Mike? Is there something you don't want me to know about Mike? Or is it something that HE doesn't want me to know?"
"Audra, don't ask me any more," Jarrod said. "I can't answer you. I can only tell you that it's impossible for you and Mike to become serious about each other."
"Why?!"
"I told you, I can't answer that!"
"Then I'll ask him!" she said and walked out.
As soon as she was gone, Victoria came in and found Jarrod just standing there in the middle of the library, rubbing his forehead again.
"I couldn't help but hear all that," she said.
Jarrod let his hand fall at his side, nodding.
"Now that you've talked it over with Audra, are you ready to talk it over with me?"
"Mother, I can't tell you about it, anymore than I could tell Audra. I have a promise to keep."
"A promise more important than your responsibility to your own sister?"
"Yes!" Jarrod couldn't believe he was saying it. "Yes, more important than that."
Victoria shook her head, but said, "All right. I just hope you know what you're doing to your sister, and to me, because I don't understand what's bothering you either."
Victoria left, and Jarrod went back to trying to rub the headache away. He considered going to Mike and talking about this to him, but then he realized it was probably too late for that. Audra was probably going to him now, and probably telling him how she felt. If it turned out he did not feel the same way she did – and there was a big fat chance that was true – then it was all a moot point.
Except for whatever damage it did to Audra, and whatever damage lingered within the Barkley family. He had no idea what he was going to do about that.
Five
Audra did go straight to the barns, and found Mike feeding the horses that were there in their stalls. When she rushed in, she thought she knew exactly what she was going to say, but now that she was there, she hesitated. How could she get to the bottom of this without opening her heart? What if Jarrod's secret was that Mike had no feelings for her at all?
Mike heard her come in, looked over at her, and smiled. "Hello again," he said. "Did you decide to take a ride?"
"No," Audra said, and struggled with everything she was feeling. She came closer to him. He looked a little baffled at her expression, and at the fact that she was back so soon. She had to say something. "There is something I want to talk to you about."
"All right," Mike said.
"You and I – have become good friends, don't you think?"
"Yes," Mike said. "I do."
"I – wondered – sometimes I think – I want to know –"
Mike smiled at the way she was stumbling. He had no idea what she was thinking. "What do you want to know?"
"What is there between you and Jarrod?"
That surprised him. "Me and your brother? There's nothing between me and your brother. Nothing I know of, anyway."
"I was just talking to him, about you," Audra said hesitantly. "I can't – say anything without sounding very forward – "
She hesitated just long enough for Mike to begin to understand what she was talking about. "Oh," he said. "Audra – "
"I can't help the way I feel," she said. "I feel like there could be more between us – there SHOULD be more between us. Jarrod asked me about it, and I'm sorry to say this but he was dead set against it, and he's never been like that before when I've felt something – special about one of the men who works for us. He won't tell me why. I'm sorry this is so forward – and if I have read everything completely wrong, just tell me so, but what is there between you and Jarrod that I don't know about? He said there was a promise. What promise is there between you?"
Mike looked away from her about halfway through he question. He didn't know how to answer her. The easy way out would be simply to tell her he was not interested in her romantically, to hurt her and have her drop the whole thing, but he didn't think he could do that, because it wasn't true. He WAS falling in love with her but trying not to do it, and he knew why Jarrod was against it. "Audra, I don't know what to say," he said.
"First, say whether I've read everything wrong," Audra said. "Do you have feelings for me?"
He turned and looked at her. "Yes, I do, or I could."
"You could, but you can't, is that it?"
He sighed. "Yes, that's it."
"Tell me why. Are you married?"
"No, no," he said quickly. "I'm not married, never have been."
"Then what is it? What is it that Jarrod knows that I don't?"
Mike was so torn he didn't know what to say or do. Would she keep his secret if he told her? Jarrod was obviously keeping it, but Jarrod felt like he owed him that. There was no debt between him and Audra.
But he said, "I knew your brother Jarrod during the war. I served under him."
She still looked oblivious. Maybe Jarrod had never told her about what happened to him during the war.
"We went into battle in Saltville, Virginia, October 1864. It was a bad time – very bad time. We lost more than a quarter of our unit. We were all under fire and the rebels were taking some of us, and we couldn't let that happen, none of us, not me, not your brother. The rebels wouldn't have taken us prisoner. They'd have killed us outright. They killed a lot of us outright that day, rather than take us prisoner."
Audra shook her head. "I can't believe that. Why would they have killed you?"
Mike sighed. "Because they killed negro soldiers and their white officers straight out. No prisoners."
She still did not understand.
Mike said, "Audra, look at my skin, and you see a man white as snow, but I'm mulatto. I was born a slave, and to the people in the south then and now, I am a negro, never a white man. The reason your brother is against us getting involved is because the law is against it. There can never be anything between us without us breaking the law. Your brother is trying to protect you from that, and so am I. He wouldn't tell you because I made him promise not to tell anybody, because I'm trying to make it through life by passing as white. I have no chance at any kind of life as a negro. It's just the way it is in this world."
Audra was stunned. She just stood, staring at him for a long time, and then said, "But the war ended all that."
"The war ended nothing, Audra! In the south, I have to have a contract to work for a white man, or I'll be arrested and forced to work as a slave for the state or for whoever the state hires me out to! It's just the way it is! I had to leave the south, but even out here, there are laws. Your brother is more bound by the law than even you or me. He's trying to protect you as best he can but still obey the law and keep his promise to me not to tell anyone that I'm not white. Don't be mad at him. And please, God, Audra, keep my secret."
"Nigger," came a voice from the door. "Shoulda known."
They looked up. Sweeney was standing there in the doorway. Of all people, he was the one to have heard it all.
Sweeney laughed, and shook his head, and went away. Mike knew it was only a matter of an hour or two and he'd be "nigger" all over this ranch.
He had no choice at all. Quickly, he went past Audra and straight for the bunkhouse. Luckily, he saw Sweeney riding away – off to tell the hands out in the field, no doubt. Mike knew if he could get his gear together and be out of here right away, he could get lost elsewhere and still be safe.
But Audra went after him. "Mike! Please, don't run away!"
"There's no choice, Audra!" he said over his shoulder.
Audra followed him to the bunkhouse.
And Jarrod, who had been at the door to the library and heard her call after him, was right behind her. He pulled her away from the bunkhouse door. "Audra, go back in the house," he said.
"Jarrod – "
"Do what I say! Now!"
She turned back toward the bunkhouse. "Mike!"
"Audra, now!" Jarrod yelled.
By now, Victoria was coming out of the house, having heard all the noise herself. "Audra!" she called, authoritatively.
Audra turned in confusion, but went back to the house.
Jarrod went into the bunkhouse after Mike. He was in there alone, shoving his things into a saddlebag. "Mike – "
"I gotta go, Cap'n," Mike said, still packing fast. "I can't wait for this to sort out. I gotta go."
Jarrod reached for his money clip. He quickly peeled off some bills and put them into Mike's hand. Mike stopped and looked up at him.
"Wages you're due," Jarrod said.
Mike nodded and pocketed the money. "I am so sorry I brought you this trouble, Cap'n," he said and finished packing. "I shouldn't have tried working here."
"None of this is your fault, Mike," Jarrod said. "The law is wrong sometimes and this is one of those times, and as for men who can't change – " He just shrugged. " I'll look after Audra, and she'll be all right."
Mike looked at him again. "I'll leave this to you, Cap'n, but if you think she needs to know – I could have loved her. I really could have."
Jarrod smiled. "I know. And my name is Jarrod."
Jarrod extended his hand.
Mike took it, and then he was out the door. Jarrod gave himself a few minutes to think about what he was going to do, then headed back to the house, in time to stop at the door and watch Mike ride away.
He went inside the house and found Audra in angry tears in the parlor, Victoria beside her on the settee, trying to comfort her. Victoria looked up at him as he came in.
He put his foot up on the coffee table in front of them. The sound made both Victoria and Audra look up at his leg as he pulled up his left pantleg, all the way up to his knee. Above his boot, they could see a scar across the outside of his calf just below the knee. They had never seen it before.
Jarrod pointed to it. "I got this at the Battle of Saltville, Virginia, October, 1864. I had a unit of the 5th Cavalry, U.S. Colored Cavalry. We had the left flank of a charge on the salt works. My men were negro cavalrymen, and they had endured insults and threats and thefts from white troopers in other units, until that day. We made the charge. We took the saltworks, but we suffered more than 25% casualties – killed, wounded, captured. Those who were captured were murdered by the Confederate troops. That's what they did at the end of the war, when colored men began fighting for the North. They took no prisoners, not the negro troops, not the white officers who commanded those troops. My horse had been shot out from under me and I couldn't get myself off the field. Mike Delaplaine was one of my negro men who carried me off. He had hold of the regimental colors and me and every white man who saw him changed his mind about negro soldiers that day. This little scrape on my leg would have gotten me killed at Saltville, except that Mike and another man risked their lives to save mine."
Jarrod pulled his pantleg back down over his boot. He looked down at Audra, who looked back at him.
"Mike is trying to make a life for himself, but he can't make it as a negro," Jarrod said. "Our country just won't let him. So he's trying to pass as a white man, which by everything that's holy, he is - and I promised to keep his secret, even from all of you. I owe him my life. What else could I do?"
Audra looked up at him and said, "Jarrod, Sweeney heard Mike and me talking. He took off to tell the other men."
Jarrod looked panicked for only a moment before he went to the foyer and got his gunbelt.
Victoria went after him. "Jarrod, let me send someone for Nick and Heath."
"They'll find out as soon as Sweeney gets there," Jarrod said. "I have to go after Mike. He needs somebody to stand beside him."
Jarrod strapped his gunbelt on as he headed for the door.
"Jarrod – " Victoria followed him.
Jarrod turned at the door and kissed her on the forehead. "Don't worry. I'll be back soon."
He went out the door after Mike Delaplaine.
Six
Jarrod had seen Mike take off toward the west, toward San Francisco, where he could theoretically get lost in the crowd. By all rights, he should have had a good start on anyone Sweeney could round up on his side, but rights were not working in Mike's favor, nor had they ever. Jarrod was taking no chances – he saddled up and was off at a full gallop toward the west within five minutes.
Mike was moving at a slower gallop, and Jarrod caught up with him within half an hour, at the far western part of the ranch. Jarrod gave a whistle as he approached – Mike turned in the saddle and saw him.
Jarrod rode up beside him. "I thought you might need somebody to see you safely away from here," he said. "Audra told me Sweeney overheard the two of you talking."
Mike nodded. "Let's get moving."
They galloped off at a slower pace than Jarrod had been traveling and were soon off the property and on the road to San Francisco. It was a busier route. They felt it was safe to slow down even more.
"How far do you plan on going with me?" Mike asked.
"Another couple hours, maybe more," Jarrod said.
"You don't really have to."
"Probably not, but better safe than sorry."
"You don't owe me anymore."
"No, but I owe my sister."
"I'm sorry I caused you to hurt her."
They heard a shot. It came from behind him somewhere.
"Rocks!" Mike yelled and pointed to an outcropping up ahead.
He and Jarrod rode hard for it. They dismounted behind the rocks, grabbed their rifles and took cover where they could see where the shot came from. Then they looked as far as they could, but they couldn't see anyone.
"Sweeney you think?" Mike asked.
Jarrod said, "If it is, he's alone. He'd have had time to get an ambush ready for you out here, but he wouldn't have had time to get anybody else to come with him."
Another shot sounded and a bullet ricocheted about a foot away from Jarrod's head. They ducked.
"I don't know how we're going to flush this guy out, whoever it is," Jarrod said.
"Why don't you get out of here while I hold him off?" Mike said.
"I like it better the other way around," Jarrod said.
Mike smiled. "You don't think I hauled you off the field at Saltville just so you could get yourself killed for me here in California, do you?"
"No," Jarrod said. "Shall we toss a coin?" He reached into his pocket with a grin.
Somehow, just hearing his old Captain say that to him made Mike feel somehow as white as he'd ever felt before, to be on the other end of a coin toss with a man like Jarrod Barkley. "Go ahead," he said.
"Heads I stay, tails you do," Jarrod said. And he tossed the coin.
Another shot ricocheted nearby.
The coin came up heads.
Jarrod grinned. "Go on. Mount up and take off behind these rocks, and he'll never see you. I'll give cover."
"Thanks, for everything, Jarrod. No matter what," Mike said, and he scrambled away to where they had left their horses.
Jarrod laid down as much cover as he could with his rifle. It was so noisy, he could barely hear Mike ride off, but he did hear him, moving fast, disappearing into the distance. Jarrod kept looking for whoever was shooting, kept returning fire whenever a bullet whined nearby, and kept wondering what he was going to do to get out of this.
He finally saw the flash of a muzzle from a group of trees, on high ground on the other side of the road. He fired toward it, then waited to see it again. It was there, just before the whine of a bullet nearby. Jarrod took more careful aim and fired.
He wasn't sure what happened, but the firing stopped. Could be a trap. He waited. He waited about a minute and fired again in that direction. No one fired back. Two more times he repeated the action, and there was never any return fire.
He took a deep breath and decided it was time to go for it. He got his horse, mounted and made another decision.
He remembered the cavalry charge at Saltville. Nobody ever survived sneaking up on anybody out in the open. It was a flat out charge, or nothing.
In for a penny, in for a pound, he decided, and with as loud a yell as he could muster, he charged up the road and then off toward the trees.
He charged right up to the man lying half behind a tree, and the man did not move. Jarrod dismounted fast and grabbed the man's rifle away from him, then grabbed the man and turned him over.
Sweeney. He'd figured out where Mike was going to from the house and managed to set up an ambush before Jarrod caught up to him. He wouldn't be ambushing anybody anymore.
And he had not gotten to any of the other hands on the ranch to tell them about Mike.
Jarrod looked up the road toward San Francisco, but there was no one there to see. Mike Delaplaine was gone.
"Good luck to you, trooper," Jarrod said, and finally relaxed.
Epilogue
Audra made Jarrod tell her every detail he remembered about the Battle of Saltville, about Mike Delaplaine, and Jarrod did, explaining that he hadn't told anyone before because sometimes it was just too hard to talk about the specifics of the war. She seemed to understand that, and after about a week, she seemed to be returning to her regular happy self. Not that Mike was forgotten. Sometimes she seemed to walk to the barns just to remember him. But she was getting over it, and she had forgiven her brother.
It was during one of those walks that Jarrod came in from town and dismounted from his horse, smiling. "Well, little sister, glad I caught you out here."
Audra rolled her eyes. "Will I ever get you to stop calling me 'little sister'?"
"Well, maybe if you grow taller than I am," Jarrod said.
Audra rolled her eyes again.
"I got a letter at the office I think you'd like to hear," Jarrod said and took it out of his pocket.
She listened.
He read it. "Dear Jarrod. I just wanted you to know that I have made it to San Francisco safely and everything is fine. Thank you again for all your help, and be sure to thank Audra for everything, too. This will probably be the last you hear from me, and I hope you will burn this letter after you read it. I will go on and make myself a good life, and I will always remember what a big role you and Audra have played in it. Best regards, Mike."
Audra smiled. "Oh, that's wonderful," she said.
Jarrod said, "Before he left, he asked me to tell you something. I know it won't make up for anything, but he said he really could have loved you."
Audra shook her head. "It almost does. Really. But do you think there will ever be a time in our country when being such a tiny bit negro will be – " She couldn't find the word.
"Irrelevant?" Jarrod asked. "I hope there comes a time when being completely negro will be irrelevant, but if and when that'll happen, I don't know. We can only hope and work for it."
"Which is what I will always do," Audra said.
Jarrod gave her a one-armed hug. "Come on. Let's go inside and burn this letter together."
And they did.
Actual Report of Col. James S. Brisbin, Fifth U.S. Colored Cavalry
Report of Col. James S. Brisbin, Fifth U. S. Colored
Cavalry, of the part taken by a detachment of the Fifth U. S. Colored Cavalry, under the command of Col. James F. Wade, Sixth U. Cavalry, at Saltville.
HDQRS. U. S. COLORED TROOPS,
Lexington, Ky., October 20, 1864.
GEN.: I have the honor to forward herewith a report of the
operations of a detachment of the Fifth U. S. Colored Cavalry duringthe late operations in Western Virginia against the salt-works.
After the main body of the forces had moved, Gen. Burbridge,
commanding district, was informed I had some mounted recruits
belonging to the Fifth U. S. Colored Cavalry, then organizing at Camp Nelson, and he at once directed me to send them forward. They were mounted on horses that had been only partly recruited and that had been drawn with the intention of using them only for the purpose of drilling. Six hundred of the best horses were picket out, mounted, and Col. James F. Wade, Sixth U. S. Colored Cavalry, was ordered to take command of the detachment. The detachment came up with the main body at
Prestonburg, Ky., and was assigned to the brigade commanded by Col. R. W. Ratliff, Twelfth Ohio Volunteer Cavalry. On the march the colored soldiers as well as their white officers, were made thesubject of much ridicule and many insulting remarks by the white troops, and in some instances petty outrages, such as the pulling off the caps of colored soldiers, stealing their horses, &c., were practiced by the white officers, were made the subject of much ridicule and many insulting remarks by the white troops, and in some instances petty outrages, such as the pulling off the caps of colored soldiers, stealing their horses, &c., we practiced by the white soldiers. The insults, aswell as the jeers and taunts that they would not fight, were borne by the
colored soldier patiently or punished with dignity by their officers, but in no instance did I hear colored soldiers make any reply to insulting language used toward [them] by the white troops. On the 2d of October the forces reached the vicinity of the salt-works, and finding the enemy in force preparations were made for battle. Col. Ratliff's brigade was assigned to the left of the line, and the brigade (dismounted) was disposed as follows: Fifth U. S. Colored Cavalry on the left, Twelfth Ohio Volunteer Cavalry in the center, and Eleventh Michigan Cavalry on the right. The point to be attacked was the side of a high mountain, the rebels being posted about half way up behind rifle-pits made of logs and stones to the height of three feet. All being in readiness, the brigade moved to the attack. The rebels opened upon them a terrific fire, but the line pressed steadily forward up the steep side of the mountain until they found themselves within fifty yards of the enemy. Here Col. Wade ordered his force to charge, and the negroes rushed upon the works with a yell, and after a desperate, struggle carried the entire line, killing and wounding a large number of the enemy and capturing some prisoners. There were 400 black soldiers engaged in the battle, 100 having been left behind sick and with broken-down horses on the march, and 100 having been left in the valley to hold horses. Out of the 400 engaged 114 men and 4 officers fell killed or wounded. Of this fight I can only say that the men could
not have behaved more bravely. I have seen white troops fight in
twenty-seven battles and I never saw any fight better. At dusk the
colored troops were withdrawn from the enemy's works which they had held for over two hours with scarcely a round of ammunition in their cartridge-boxes. On the return of the forces those who had scoffed at the colored troops on the march out were silent. Nearly all the wounded were brought off, though we had not an ambulance in the command. The negro soldiers preferred present suffering to being murdered at thehands of a cruel enemy. I saw one man riding with his arm off, another
shot through the lungs, and another shot through both hips. Such of the colored soldiers as fell into the hands of the enemy during the battle were brutally murdered. The negroes did not retaliate, but treated the rebel wounded with great kindness; carrying them water in their canteens and doing all they could to alleviate the sufferings of those whom the fortunes of war had placed in their hands.
Col. Wade handled his command with skill, bravery, and good
judgment, evincing, his capacity to command a much larger force.
I am, general, very respectfully, your obedient servant,
JAMES S. BRISBIN,
Col. and Supt. Organization U. S. Colored Troops.
Brig. Gen. L. THOMAS Adjutant-Gen. U. S. Army.
Source: Official Records
PAGE 556-77 KY., SW. VA., TENN., MISS., ALA., AND N. GA. [CHAP. LI.
[Series I. Vol. 39. Part I, Reports. Serial No. 77.]