Ages: Jarrod 16 , Nick 11, Eugene and Heath 6, Audra 4 and Reginald 9

Chapter Three: The Bookworm and the Little Hunter

There was something about the books that intrigued Jarrod Barkley. For every book he read, he only wanted to consume more. Tom Barkley had watched as his highly intelligent son began to pull away to become his own man. He was book smart. It was just how the boy was. Nick was just as intelligent but it was a different intelligence. Still, Jarrod was becoming his own man. It frightened Tom but not for the reasons one would think. He was afraid of losing the boy when he became a man. Tom knew that someday he would look up and his son would want a life away from the ranch.

Tom had built the Barkley empire for mainly four reasons; Jarrod, Nick, Eugene, and Audra. Victoria was part of the equation. However, Victoria helped build the empire for the same four reasons; their children. Now one of those children would pull away from the fold. Tom thought for sure each child would build a home on the ranch as the ranch became bigger and bigger. It didn't make Tom less proud of the boy. It made him melancholy.

The sadness came due to Nick mostly. Tom faced the facts. Eugene Barkley was more like Jarrod than Nick. It was no doubt Eugene idolized his cowboy brother. However, Jarrod was the one Eugene spent hours on end talking to. Tom caught himself drifting to the letter he had received from Leah Thompson six years earlier.

He didn't know what made his mind wander to that letter. After all, he had made his decision six years ago. He was stuck with that. His lawyer, Randall McGregor, had told him all was well. He took care of it just as Tom had asked. There was nothing to worry about were the words from McGregor.

Tom wondered what McGregor meant exactly. Had he sent Leah money to care for the boy? There was money taken from his account monthly. Maybe that was where the money went. It was enough to take care of a child's needs. Then again, McGregor took care of a lot of Barkley business. The money could be for one of many enterprises. Since it wasn't a great amount, Tom never questioned it. Tom knew deep down, he didn't want to know. Maybe there was another reason for McGregor's mysterious answer. Was there even a boy at all? Was it just a trick of the desperate girl to get Tom back in her life?

The part that sometimes made Tom want to redo the past was the fact he never checked to see if there was really a child. Did he even care? That he wasn't even sure of. He was blessed with the family he had. Another child from a woman he barely knew would not be a blessing at the time. The fact was that if Leah Thomson stood in front of him today, he wasn't sure he'd even recognize her. It was a interlude based on lustful passion and nothing more. All he remembered from that time was he was grateful for being alive. Leah had saved him from a certain death. He also remembered she was such a rare beauty. Her beauty did surpass his wife, who was extraordinary in her own looks. However, the beauty had stopped there. Tom didn't know Leah Thomson. He hadn't spent years accepting both flaws and strengths of the young lady as he did Victoria. It simply came down to being long weeks with a beautiful woman that caused the short lived affair. No love but admiration of sorts for a young girl who gave of herself to him.

He didn't mention the letter to Victoria. He knew his wife. She would insist on finding out the truth one way or another. Knowing his Vic, she'd want to bring the boy back home to raise. Ironically, it was his Victoria that caused him to seek advice of his lawyer in the first place. She was having a rough pregnancy. The letter came a little over a month before Eugene was born. Tom had feared that the news would cause Victoria more problems in an already difficult pregnancy. The doctor had put Victoria on bedrest and said NO STRESS for her. Tom felt the weight of the letter came with way too much stress for him. No. There was no option. Randall McGregor had to handle the situation.

Jarrod glanced up at his father, who was standing in the doorway staring at him. Jarrod noticed his father was deep in thought. Curiously, Jarrod asked. "Do you need me for something, father?"

Tom nodded his head. "I hate to steal you away from your studies, Jarrod. I was wanting to know if you'd come with me to help me teach Nick to shoot. He's eleven now. It is time the boy learns to use a rifle."

"Sure." Jarrod stood up then placed his book back on the shelf. "Family tradition. I was eleven when you taught me. Do you need me to set up the targets?"

"No. McCall did that already." Tom felt a small hand tug at his sleeve. He glanced into Audra's big blue eyes. He scooped her up to place on his hip. "What do you want, Princess?"

"I want to go." Audra squared back her shoulders and jutted out her chin. "I want to be a cowboy like Nick."

"You're a girl." Nick walked in making his presence known. The boy had a pair of lungs on him. At age eleven, the boy was already bigger than life in personality. "You can't be a cowboy. You can be a cowgirl though."

"Audra, you're too little." Tom kissed his daughter on the cheek. He placed her down and playfully patted her behind. "Now run off and see what your mother is doing."

Audra skipped away gleefully. Tom glanced at Eugene. The boy was drawing as he read a children's book. It seems he was drawing out the scenes of the book.

"You want to go watch your brother learn to shoot, Gene?" Tom walked over and rustled the boy's hair.

"Do I have to?" Eugene groaned in protest. His brown hair was combed in the same style as Jarrod's hair.

Tom noticed the differences in his sons' looks. They were all so handsome. Nick was going to outgrow them all in height. He was a lean boy but muscles would come with the work he did on the ranch. Tom could already guess the many girls' hearts that boy would be breaking. His hair was black and was wild. He was a tough boy with an energetic passion to rival any man.

The teenager, Jarrod, was already pursued by many a young female. His charm was evident. The boy had a silver tongue when it came to conversation. Jarrod could convince a man to buy land in the desert in the middle of a drought. His looks were boyishly handsome. He had a gleam to his dark blue eyes that told of his intellect.

Eugene was a good looking little boy. His size was smaller than most children his age. He was going to take after his mother in stature. This caused Tom to chuckle at how his petite bride was compared to her strength. She was a force to be reckoned with when need be.

"No. You don't have to." Tom left the room.

He watched Jarrod and Nick chatting in excited utterance of learning to shoot. Jarrod was telling Nick how good he was now. Nick was claiming to best out all Barkleys when it came to shooting.

**************************B*********************************

Jessup felt his knee give as he got the eight point buck in his sights. He cursed as he stumbled into a briar patch. The buck sprang off escaping the fate of being supper. Jessup pulled his rifle to his side as he shook his head in dismay.

He headed toward the old cabin. Halting, Jessup noticed the small boy sitting on the stump beside Hannah. She was singing her hymns while the boy whittled with a small knife that Jessup had handed him a few months earlier. He had told the blonde boy that he could use it when he wanted to as long as he returned it. Heath's tongue stuck out as he concentrated deep on the task at hand.

Suddenly, Heath got a mischievous gleam to his countenance. In a flash and a flick of Heath's wrist, the knife sailed through the air.

"Lord have mercy!" Hannah exclaimed. "You gave my heart some twitters."

Heath shrugged nonchalantly as he walked over to retrieve his knife. He held up the knife as he examined the end of it. At the end of the blade there was a toad hanging. "Too little for stew."

"Yep." Hannah went back to washing the laundry. She glanced up. "You got a good eye, Heath. But next time make sure the killin' is worth it. No use riddin' God of his creatures unless you're going to do something with them or protectin' yourself. You hear?"

"Yes'm." Heath tossed the frog aside then wiped the knife blade on the front of his worn pants. "Reckon I head to school."

"Don't be fightin." Hannah warned. "That is the only shirt I gots left or yours. Last one was ripped to shreds. The good Lord don't like you fightin'."

Heath nodded his head as he headed away from Hannah. He stopped to stare up at Jessup. As he handed Jessup his knife, Heath whispered for only the old man to hear. "Boy howdy, Jessup. I don't reckon Mama Hannah knows the good Lord don't like me at all. Least that's what Aunt Martha's friends at her church let me know. "

Jessup watched the retreating form of the boy. He rubbed his aching knee before heading to place the rifle in the cabin. "Don't bother fixin' lunch, Hannah. I think I'll head into town. A beer is calling my name."

"It ain't near lunch time, Mr. Jessup." Hannah began hanging the laundry to dry. "Most folks are only having breakfast about now. I guess I better head to Mr. Simmons' hotel. Mrs. Simmons sure will be cutting up a fuss if I show up late."

Jessup picked up a wicker basket full of clean laundry. "Is this going to the hotel?"

Hannah nodded as she hung the last of the clothes from the wash tub. She looked curiously as Jessup put the basket to his side.

Jessup noticed the woman's look. "Don't go lookin' at me like that. I ain't growin' soft by helpin' you. I'm headed to town is all. Come on. Best get you to work."

Hannah busied herself making breakfast for the hotel customers. The hotel always to be busy due to the miners coming in and out of town. It wasn't as rowdy as the bars but it was always full.

Jessup placed the laundry in the kitchen before heading to the lobby of the hotel. He knew he'd find Matt Simmons there. He sauntered up to Matt. "Can you spare a few minutes? I'll buy you a beer."

"Kind of early for a beer." Matt arched his eyebrow.

"Never too early to wet your whistle. Last chance to get something free from me." Jessup walked out hoping Matt would follow.

Matt sighed out saying in a low voice. "I doubt Jessup is doing anything for free."

The two men saddled up to the bar, which was already bristling with activity at the early hour. Jessup took a sip of his beer as he glanced sideways at Matt. "Good beer."

"It's okay." Matt placed his elbows on the bar. "I don't usually partake. I know the beer isn't what you're wanting to talk about. I"m going to take my boy for a walk later. So get at it."

"You're hotel is busy. Reckon' keepin' meat on the table is hard for your family." Jessup rubbed his long beard in a smooth notion. "I know my knees are making it difficult to get meat on mine. Hannah makes a meal out of weeds and cactus. Tastes fine but it ain't no meat."

"Yeah." Matt took a sip of his own beer. The bitter taste made him grimace. "Go on."

"Well, that Heath boy is a mean spirited sort. He's also smart as a whip." Jessup turned to face away from the bar. He propped himself up with his elbows.

"Has he done something wrong? IF he has, Jessup, that is up to Hannah to fix. We've pretty much turned his rearing over to her. Martha don't like having him around. He's been gettin' into a lot of fights at school. I see the bruises when he comes to help Hannah clean. That goes with what the boy is. Nothin' I can do about it." Matt's shoulders slumped. "Heath comes to play with Reginald. Best time of the day for my son."

"Well, I didn't mean mean spirited in a bad way. I guess I meant he's a brave boy. Yeah. That's what I mean. So I want to ask you if I can teach the boy to shoot. He could get hunt for us both. I can teach him since you don't have the time." Jessup fiddled with the rim of his glass. "I don't see myself getting out in the woods too much longer."

"I don't know, Jessup. He's only six." Matt knew Martha had plans to work the boy in the mines already. Teaching him to shoot may be taking all the youth from Heath. "The rifle would make him hit his bottom more than stand up."

"By that time, the shot will be made." Jessup interjected. "I'll teach him to make the shot count. Can't go wastin' bullets. Boys like shootin'."

"Fine." Matt finished off his beer. "Do what you got to do. I have to get on that walk before Reginald tired too much for today."

Heath took to the rifle like he did the knife. He had troubles learning to aim at first. Once he learned how to handle the rifle, his shots were good. It wasn't quite the fun Heath thought it would be. The rifle's recoil caused his shoulder to be sore not to mention his bottom to land on the ground more times than when he stood up. From this, Heath learned to try to find a place to lay above his target on a rock or in a tree. If he was on the ground, Heath knew to aim higher rather than stand up. After teaching Heath how to load, fire, and aim the gun, Jessup let the boy pick out his own spot.

Hannah had whispered to Heath on his first time hunting for a kill. "Aim sure, Heath. Don't make them suffer. Aim sure."