Crystal
Autumn 1877
Heath helped Nick out to the street, where he gave himself a moment to straighten up properly, holding himself against one of the posts that kept the roof of the café up.
"You all right, Nick?" another voice asked.
Nick and Heath looked over at the sheriff.
"Oh, yeah, I'm good, I'm great," Nick said, snarling. "I've got my lip split and my ribs caved in and a brother who may never see his hand in front of his face again, but yeah, I'm good, I'm great."
Heath said to the sheriff, "You know it was Cunningham who blew up Jarrod's office, Sheriff."
"I may know it but I can't prove it," Sheriff Madden said, "but don't think for a minute I'll stop investigating. And Cunningham is going to jail on this charge of dynamiting the dam."
Nick saw his mother and sister helping his older brother out of the doctor's office, toward the surrey parked in the street. He saw Jarrod stumble leaving the boardwalk but his mother steadied him. "I don't see how when there's nobody but a kid lawyer to prosecute him," Nick said. "He's gonna walk out of that courthouse a free man next week, and I'm gonna – "
"Watch it, Nick," the Sheriff said. "Remember who you're talking to."
Nick was standing straight now, even though Heath still kept a steadying hand on his arm. Heath said, "Sheriff, if you get anything on Cunningham for what he's done to Jarrod, let us know, all right? I'll keep Nick under control."
The sheriff nodded, but Nick gave both him and Heath an angry look. "I'm gonna see Cunningham in jail for one thing or another," Nick said. "For the dam, for Jim Scanlon, for Jarrod – for something. You can bet on that."
"All right, Nick," the sheriff said.
Heath gave Nick's arm a tug, and they went on to where the rest of the family was waiting for them at the surrey. Jarrod was sitting in the front seat; Audra and Victoria were in the back. Nick climbed in beside Jarrod without a word, while Heath mounted the horse that he'd ridden in on.
Victoria looked at her middle son. "Are you all right, Nick?"
"I'm fine," Nick said, though everyone but Jarrod could see he'd been in a fight.
Jarrod just sat beside Nick, in the vacant daze he'd been in since the explosion that took his sight and – thank heaven, only temporarily – his hearing. His mind and his memory weren't even working at all. That's what tore Nick up the most. Jarrod had been completely panic-stricken when his vision and his hearing were both gone. Nick remembered having to take his face in his hands and shout at him just to get him to hear him and calm down. It was beyond terror, but as Jarrod's hearing returned after half an hour or so, he sank into this world where he was only stunned, so stunned he wasn't even communicating much. Nick wanted to reach for him, put a hand on his shoulder or something comforting, but he'd tried that and Jarrod didn't even seem to feel it. Nick was so angry he thought he was going to bust.
Nick gave the reins a slap and the surrey jerked into motion. Jarrod grabbed hold of the edge of the seat, startled by the movement. He held on all the way home.
XXXXXXX
"There has to be something I can do," Nick said, out loud without intending to.
He and Heath were up on the north ridge, looking down at the herd and their men who were moving it slowly further into the valley. Heath didn't understand what Nick was talking about.
"Do about what?" Heath asked.
Nick looked over at his younger brother. For a minute he didn't realize he'd spoken his thought out loud, but then he knew it and he said, "For Jarrod. Something. Something to get him to talk, at least."
Heath said, "He'll come around. It's just gonna take him some time and learning to do things. Once he gets a grip and feels like there's something he can control – even if it's just walking around the house without breaking his neck – he'll open up again."
"Heath," Nick said more quietly, "he's my big brother, and he's blind. And I can't think of a thing I can do to help him."
"I hear you, Nick. I feel the same way, plus I've got you to worry over."
"You don't need to worry over me. I'm not gonna go off the deep end."
"Even when Cunningham walks next week? You said yourself, he will. But you can't go after him like a wild man, you know that."
"I know that. Heath, there's just so much I want to do, and I either can't do it without going to jail myself, or it doesn't help. I tried talking to Jarrod when we got home from the doctor's yesterday. It was like he didn't hear me."
"I know, but it's gonna take time, Nick. Everything is gonna take time. Jarrod's gonna get better, and we're gonna find a way to nail Cunningham for what he's done to him. It's just gonna take time."
Nick sighed. "I need to find something I can do now. Something to help Jarrod – something."
"The sheriff ought to let us back into his office today. We need to be looking through what's left before we get the architect back in," Heath suggested. "There's likely to be personal stuff he'd like us to find – come to think of it, his jacket is probably in there somewhere."
Nick realized Heath was right. They'd all been so focused on Jarrod himself that they hadn't remembered his personal things. "You're right. We need to do that fast. Any time now looters are gonna discover they can get in there and they'll take anything they can."
"Let's go now. I'll go tell McCall."
XXXXX
Going through the rubble of a man's office was going through the rubble of his life, Nick thought as he and Heath opened the door and looked at the complete mess the place was. The only good news was that the bookshelves were still pretty much intact, as were the books. The only serious damage was to the window, the furniture and the ceiling – and to Jarrod.
Nick saw that the coat tree that Jarrod kept behind his desk was lost in the rubble somewhere, probably in that pile behind the desk. Nick went there first, Heath following along. They began to pull the remains of the ceiling and the desk out of the way, looking for Jarrod's jacket first. Fortunately, it was there under some plaster that had fallen from the ceiling, not trapped under any of the ceiling beams. Nick pulled it out fairly quickly.
Nick looked through the inner pocket and pulled out Jarrod's wallet. "Well, looks like the looters have left everything alone." Nick put the wallet in his own pocket.
"Here's his vest," Heath said and pulled it out.
Jarrod's gold pocket watch was in the small pocket of the vest. Heath looked it over after pulling it out. "How is it?" Nick asked.
Heath wound it gingerly, opened it and closed it up again. "It's fine. Still ticking." He handed the watch to Nick.
It was a gift the family had given Jarrod when he graduated from law school, but it wasn't like it was anything Jarrod could use now. Nick opened it and closed it again – and his heart went through the mixture of anger and grief again. He stood holding Jarrod's jacket and fingering the watch, and he looked around the ruined room again. Just like Jarrod's career. Just like Jarrod's life. Ruined.
Heath pulled Jarrod's hat out from under the rubble. He stood up. "You know, we better go through this desk. His sidearm is in here, and he might have some files in the drawers we ought to take to him."
"Why?" Nick asked. "It's not like he could read them."
"We could read them to him."
"And would he answer us? He hasn't put two sentences together since this happened."
"Reading the files to him might make him put them together. This was his life, after all."
"Was," Nick said. "Dear God in heaven, Heath. What's gonna happen to him?"
"I don't know, Nick," Heath said. "I just know we won't be running out on him. I know he'll need us to help pull him back from wherever he is right now."
Nick felt tears sting his eyes as he looked at Heath and then at the watch again. Then, suddenly, he thought of something.
It was later at home, after dinner without Jarrod at the table, that Nick opened the watch again in his room. He sat down at his desk, under the light there, and he tried to see how he might remove the crystal.
If he was able to get that crystal off without leaving any jagged edges, Jarrod would be able to learn how to tell the time by touching the hands. It wasn't much, but it was a step back toward normalcy, just being able to tell the time like a normal man.
Nick wasn't sure how he was going to get the frame that held the crystal in away from the back of the watch. It seemed good and tight. Nick wondered what to use, and he thought of his pocket knife. He took it out, unfolded it and tried to pry the crystal apart from the back. It was stubborn. It didn't want to come. That figured – you didn't want the crystal of your watch to come popping out too easily. And Nick didn't want to cut himself trying to force it.
"Come on," he said to the watch. "You're no good to him like this. Let me get this straightened out for him. There's no other damned thing I can do for him. Come on!"
He put the watch flat on the desk and tried again, being careful to move the knife away from him as he tried to get the crystal frame off. He pushed the knife blade over and over, and rocked it back and forth and finally the frame began to budge.
"That's it!" Nick said to the watch. "Just a bit more. Come on, now. One more little rock here, just for Pappy."
It worked. The frame popped open, and the crystal moved by itself as soon as the frame gave way. Nick carefully took it completely out and set it aside, then pressed the frame back into the back of the watch. Then he carefully felt the hands, felt that there was no glass and looked at the crystal, seeing that it was intact, not broken at all.
"Yeah!" Nick said in triumph, closed the watch, then opened it again. Then he felt the hands again, and yes, it would be safe for Jarrod to touch them. He would not hurt himself as long as he did not get them bent out of shape. He put the crystal in the top drawer of his desk and closed the watch again.
He looked it over, and then he turned it over and read the back. To JTB, on his graduation, 1867. Nick sighed. Maybe that legal career was over and maybe it wasn't, but at least this watch could still be of use to his brother. This little piece of normalcy was still here for him, even if he could no longer read the inscription.
Nick closed the watch up and left his room, but when he got downstairs, the only person still up was Audra.
"What are you still doing up?" he asked, and then he saw she'd be crying. "Hey – what's this?"
"Oh, Nick," she said. "I tried to talk to Jarrod tonight, but he's so withdrawn, he won't say more than two words at a time. I just don't know what to do."
Nick smiled. "I do." He took her by the hand, opened her hand and put the watch into it.
Audra looked confused.
Nick said, "I took the crystal off. Jarrod can tell the time with his fingers. He won't have to ask us what time it is. It's something he can do for himself."
Audra beamed. "Oh, Nick, that was a wonderful idea," she said and hugged him tightly.
"I know it isn't much," Nick said, "but it's a little bit in the right direction. Will you give it to him tomorrow for me?"
Audra looked at the watch in her hand and nodded. "Of course. You're a wonderful brother, you know that?"
"Yeah, I know it," Nick said, "but every now and then it's nice to be able to prove it."
"To yourself or to us?" Audra said.
Nick knew she understood him better than he understood himself sometimes, and this was one of those times. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I needed to prove to myself that I could find a way to help him."
"And you did. This ought to put a smile on his face."
And it did. When Audra gave Jarrod his watch the next morning and told him that Nick had taken the crystal off, Jarrod opened it and touched the hands. And he smiled that he could tell what time it was. "Remind me to thank him," he said.
It wasn't everything. It wasn't like it gave Jarrod anything more than a tiny bit of normalcy, but it was something, and it made Jarrod smile, if only for a moment or two. And for now, that was good enough.
The End