On a typically damp and foggy San Francisco morning, Vicky and Ellie were coming down the front stairs, ready to leave for school, and chatting in the breathless, rapid-fire, amiable way that teenage girls talk. This was one of Jarrod's favorite moments of his morning routine and normally he would have stopped to savor the happy tones of his daughters, all vibrant youth and beauty. On this morning, he didn't notice. He stood stock-still in the foyer, a newly delivered telegram in his hand.

The girls stopped suddenly, a few steps from the landing, when they saw him for they were as attuned to his presence as he was to theirs. Half a moment later, their mother entered through the parlor with their younger brother and she too stopped when she saw him.

"Jarrod, what is it? Jane asked.

He turned to look at her, shock and grief in his eyes.

"Mother is dead, " he said.

~BBB~

The Barkley matriarch had remained at the center of the ranch, her mind and wit as sharp as ever but her body had slowed down a lot. She took long naps some days but her biggest challenge was the painful arthritis in her knees, her hips, and back which made the simplest movement excruciating on the best days and horse backing out of the question. For this reason, Nick and Emily had created a bedroom suite for her on the main floor.

She continued to preside at the head of the table for all meals when she was present. Years before, she had tried to relinquish her seat to Nick's wife but Emily had staunchly declined. Both in deference to the only mother she'd ever known and having never fully overcome her natural shyness, Emily preferred having Victoria be the acknowledged lady of the house.

Victoria, however, had always been careful to include Emily in discussions and decisions regarding the running of the house and, as the years passed, Emily had easily assumed most responsibilities.

Emily's only bone of contention with her mother-in-law – and it was a small bone – was in the rearing of the children and even then Victoria had been unobtrusive and mostly silent: quietly supportive, occasionally over-indulgent, but never defiant or openly critical of Nick and Emily's parenting.

But Victoria reigned supreme at the table. Emily had willingly and knowingly acknowledged this power. It had always been so for Nick and the children understood it to be law.

In the nursery and regarding schoolwork, Emily directed the children's lives. Anywhere else on the ranch, Nick carried undisputed power over his children. It was this power that gave him the strongest veto in the house, regarding school, and even at the table.

On this morning, like most weekday mornings, Emily corralled Caroline, Daniel, and Julia to the breakfast table. Not yet five, Julia needed frequent redirection but was generally agreeable. Daniel, nine, was a quiet, easy-going soul who only needed encouragement. More often than not, Caroline, at 14, required a taskmaster. Inclined to daydream, she was preoccupied with thoughts about boys and pretty dresses.

Perhaps more serious than Audra at the same age and much less obsessed with horses, Caroline – or Carrie as she was called – resembled her aunt in other ways. She had the same blond hair and clear blue eyes and the same dimples, those she got from her father. From her mother, she inherited curls and shyness.

Direct from morning chores, Nick walked into the dining room with Tom, 17, and Will, 16, right behind him. With long strides, he went directly to Emily and kissed her on the cheek, as she helped Julia onto the cushions on her chair. Tom and Will also offered their mother a kiss good morning.

"Daniel, would you please go see if Grandma will be joining us this morning?" Emily asked. Sometimes, Grandma slept in, especially if she'd had a fitful night.

Daniel climbed out his chair and scampered out of the room with all the energy of a nine-year-old boy, fully awake and facing a brand new day.

Nick helped Emily into her chair just to Victoria's right and took the seat at the head of the table, opposite his mother's and sat down just in time to see Will reach into a basket of steaming biscuits.

"Will!" Nick barked. That's all it took and Will quickly withdrew his arm.

Emily was proud of how her older boys were turning out. Tom, tall and gangly now, had always resembled his father in looks and temperament. He was loyal and honest and hard working but quick to angry outbursts and had gotten into a few more fights than Emily was confortable with. Will was more cerebral and much more discreet than his brother with what he revealed to others. His hair was a bit lighter in color and had a soft wave to it. And, except for a rebellious streak Emily couldn't quite define, he reminded her a little of Heath. This was fitting as he had been christened William Heath. She couldn't help but compare the brothers with their father and uncle. They shared the same easy banter and mutual reliance.

So far, she thought, she and Nick had done well as parents but she was not entirely at peace with Nick's parenting and knew she would need to stay vigilant as the younger ones grew up.

Looking over at Tom now, she remembered sitting on a picnic blanket and standing him on his chubby legs, launching him forward as he toddled over to his father's outstretched arms and encouraging words. She was already heavy with Will and was worrying for the future so deliberately chose that moment to ask Nick if he could ever take a switch or belt to his son. Surely, she thought, he would not consider such a thing now.

"If he needs it, you bet!" Nick replied, still smiling at his happy boy.

Emily's heart sank. She didn't believe in physical punishment. Her father had never struck her or any of her five brothers. Instead, he had used reason, banishment to a corner, bed without dinner, or extra chores. Or any combination thereof. Never beating.

She knew Nick often spoke before thinking so she broached the topic every now and again and hoped to persuade him in a quiet moment, but Nick remained steadfast.

She asked when the boys were both walking and talking and fighting and had a baby sister and chaos ruled the day. Nick simply said he would leave the disciplining of girls to her but, yes, he would take a switch to the boys' backsides if he thought it was warranted.

When the first big infraction happened – skipping after school chores as well as not telling anyone where they were – Emily had pleaded with Nick to send them to bed, give them extra chores, anything. They stood alone in the library and Nick listened thoughtfully, looking down at the rug and then up into Emily's eyes but said little in response. Then, without saying a word or changing the reflective expression of his face, he stepped back into the foyer and commanded the boys, seven and eight years old at the time, to follow him outside.

Emily was furious. And scared. Victoria had watched this family drama in silence and entered the library, put her arm around Emily's waist and sat her down on the sofa.

"They're his children, too," Victoria said, "and this is what Nick knows from his own boyhood." Emily then burst into tears while Victoria held and rocked her and assured her. "They'll be all right," Victoria said.

To Emily's mind, though, they were not all right. That evening, she watched as her boys' tear streaked faces winced in pain as they sat down to dinner. She didn't speak to Nick for days.

A few nights later, Nick came to sit next to her, stretched his legs out in front of him, and looked into his whisky glass.

"I think they learned their lesson," he said, and paused, then continued, "but I hated it."

"And?" Emily asked coolly.

"And, well, maybe there are other ways to knock some respect into them."

Emily thought they were respectful enough for their ages and that respect, even for parents, had to be earned, but knew an argument over the finer points of child development with Nick would be exhausting and likely futile and directed the discussion to alternative methods of discipline. And Nick did make the effort. He even admitted to her once, privately, that he found non-physical punishment to be effective. But, he had to add, not as effective as a good wallop with a switch.

There had been only one other instance of serious corporal punishment when, at ages 12 and 13, the boys decided to get drunk. Emily had been so upset about it, she had to admit she didn't care that Nick had taken his belt to both of them.

Daniel had been spanked once a few years back. He openly defied and talked back to his mother and, in an instant, Nick had laid him over his knee and swatted the boy's behind. Emily wasn't entirely comfortable with that either, but it was better than a switch or a belt and Daniel's behavior improved immediately.

Daniel, who had scurried out of the room moments ago with such energy, now returned, walking as if in a dream. "Momma?" he said, looking at her, eyes wide, "Grandma won't wake up."

Nick and Emily instantly locked eyes and stood up simultaneously. Nick turned to his teenage sons and said, "Stay put and take care of your brother and sister!" He then bolted from the room. Emily followed swiftly, Carrie several steps behind her.