Blowing in the Wind

Chapter One

A/N There will be some French spoken in some of the chapters. I want to publicly thank an online friend of mine who lives in France for translating the English sentences I'v sent to her into French…and any more that I send. In the chapters where the French sentences are spoken, their English counterparts will be at the bottom of the chapter.

~oOo~

A dark haired stranger, dressed in buckskin pants, a white shirt and buckskin jacket with thin brown fringes running down each sleeve, rode into town. His hair was long and was tied back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He also sported a full mustache and beard. He might have simply received a few stares and then been ignored, but he was accompanied by a woman with long black hair who was quite the beauty, even if she too was dressed in buckskin.

"Who are they?" A middle age brown haired woman who stood just outside the bank and asked,

Her companion, a heavy set, balding gentleman snorted and answered, "From the looks of it, I'd say they're from the mountains somewhere. Though, I really don't care." He then turned and disappeared into the store.

"We shouldn't be here. We're wasting our time." Lily turned her head to look at her husband who looked uptight and full of anxiety. She knew his disposition had nothing to do with the stares they were receiving, but everything to do with the reason for their trip. "You said it yourself; it's been too many years."

Her husband; a man who had went by the name of Steve Brighton for twenty three years, sighed as he thought on the cabin he and his father had painstakingly built; he'd been a mere eight years old. His father was actually a mountain man, a trapper whose name had been Adam Brighton. The man had been checking his traps when he'd been shocked and horrified to see a young child, carrying a small book, wandering off in the distance. Forgetting his traps, the kind hearted mountain man had dropped what he was doing and rescued the child. Mr. Brighton would have left the mountains and taken the child back to his parents, only he couldn't. While the boy appeared to be around five years old, he wasn't talking at all. Adam Brighton couldn't read so he was left to wonder what the book was and why a child so young had it with him. Not knowing what else to do, Adam had given the child the name of Steve and-in spite of telling himself he was crazy-began raising him. He'd taken the book and put it in an old chest intending to give it to Steve when he was older. Only, as time went and he grew accustomed to having the lad around and grew more than protective of him, Adam intentionally 'forgot' about the book when their paths crossed with other men. Of course, it helped that those men were known to be quite perverse, and Adam knew it. Then, as the years rolled by, Mr. Brighton actually forgot where he'd put the small book.

Steve had trapped, hunted and broke in a number of wild horses with Adam until the day Steve met Lily. She was the daughter of a French trapper who had been friends with Adam Brighton on and off for years. Steve had been quite taken with her. Lily was not only drop dead gorgeous, but she wasn't afraid of hard work, was the best cook around and could hold quite an intelligent conversation; which, contrary to what the other mountain men said, was just as important. She was also, thanks to a go good friend of theirs, able to read, write and do arithmetic, things she'd taught Steve to do as well.

He and Lily were married three years after meeting. They had planned on building their own cabin, but his father had an accident. The two had moved in with him until the man died, but before he'd passed away Adam started feeling guilty. Knowing that the book he had hidden might very well help his son connect to his past, Adam Brighton concentrated hard as he tried to remember where he'd put 'that thing' as he called it. After a while, he'd called Steve to him and confessed all. Later, after Adam had passed away, Steve looked for the book and actually found it. "No, I had to come. I have to meet the families mentioned in the pages of that book."

"What will it change? Even if, by some wild chance they know who you were; it's been over twenty years. Besides, you said we were only staying a short time, and that you didn't want anyone to think you wanted anything from them. If you start talking about the past, and that book, they'll think different." Lily was trying to be patient with her husband, but he was making it rather hard. If they were going to spend weeks traveling to meet these people, she couldn't understand not telling the families Steve's story and asking questions.

Steve was momentarily irritated at his wife. She knew how much this meant to him. She knew of the few memories that haunted him day in and day out, almost as if begging him to remember something, anything. She also knew the huge struggle he'd had forgiving Adam Brighton-as well intended as his motives had been-for not telling him the truth from the beginning. Only the irritation soon fled as he also knew everything she feared. "We shall cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, we need to drop our horses off at the livery stable before we stop by the law office. The sheriff should be able to give us what we need to know." He said.

As he headed towards the livery stable that sat at the edge of town, he suddenly had to pull back on his reins when the saloon doors swung open; a young man not more than nineteen flew out and landed on the dirt street. Steve might have simply turned down a side street and continued on his journey only a red headed man who had been drinking came barreling out of the saloon cursing and waving a gun, saying the boy had cheated him.

"I wasn't cheating!" The young man scrambled to his feet only to have the drunkard point his gun at him.

Steve whipped out his own gun, seeing how the young man as unarmed, and shot the gun out of the man's hand. The drunk yelped and turned to attack Steve only to have the sheriff, who had been in a nearby building, come running out and grab him.

"He tried to shoot the boy." Steve said as he looked from the sheriff to the young man who was glaring at the drunk.

"What happened Gene?" Fred looked at the youngest Barkley who was swiping some dust off his pants.

"Heath asked me to meet Jarrod when he comes in on the stage, but I got in early. So while I don't play too much poker, I thought I'd give it a try. Just because I was actually winning, he thinks I was cheating. I wasn't! Father taught me better than that, and mother backed him up on it!"

"I'm sure your father did just that." Fred shot a glare at the drunk who was muttering under his breath. "Why don't you just shut up? Tom Barkley may not have been perfect, but he did his best too." Fred then looked at the couple in front of him, wondering at the shocked look he saw in their eyes for a moment. "Thanks for stepping in. I don't recognize you, stop by my office anytime. I'd like get to know you." He then led his prisoner away.

"Yeah, thanks." Gene turned to face the stranger who had saved him. "How can I thank you?" That's another thing his parents had taught him…to always thank someone who had helped him.

'Tom Barkley, one of the names in that book.' Steve thought silently, even as he caught on to the fact that the sheriff had talked about Tom Barkley in the past tense. Steve reached down and pulled out a couple of newspaper clippings out of his jacket and handed them down to Gene. "Those are job advertisements, listed by one Jarrod Barkley. Do you know him? I need to talk to him." Finding the advertisements had been a blessing, as it was a way to keep the real intent of his trip from them.

Gene grinned from ear to ear. "Sure, he's my eldest brother. Come with me. He should be arriving soon." He then turned and headed towards the café where the stagecoach was supposed to stop.

Steve turned and looked at Lily who was simply looking at him as if to say 'I'll stand by you, but you're crazy," and then began following Gene; his wife was right behind him.