I do NOT own the Big Valley nor any of the original Barkley characters. Thanks to my Beta Reader, though all mistakes are my own.

You'll recognize Victoria's memory from The Palms of Glory.

Raging River

Chapter Ten

Victoria was sure the stagecoach was hitting every hole on the road possible. Her head and eyes were facing the scenery passing quickly by; her mind was on the telegram in her hand and the events of the past twenty-four hours.

"Welcome home, Nick!" Victoria had smiled from ear to ear as she hurried down the stairs to welcome her second son home and inform him Abigail had blessed him with a fine healthy son. She'd not been surprised to learn Heath and his bride had sent him on ahead.

…"They should be here by now!" Nick had not been happy when he'd walked into the main house expecting to find his brother ready for work. The whole family knew that and was just as concerned.

…"We've got to go look for them!" Nick and Jarrod were standing outside talking with their mother, "Something is wrong." The discussion had gotten no further for Silas had brought another telegram home; the telegram was addressed to Victoria.

Mrs. Barkley. Heath and I are in Livingston. Long story. Explain later. Heath has had an accident. Bad off. I am greatly worried. Please, come or send someone. Mary H. Barkley

Victoria looked down at the telegram she still held in her hands. "He will be okay, mother," Jarrod looked at his mother knowing she, out of them all, was probably the most worried. Nick had wanted to come but she, Victoria, had put her foot down saying his place, for now, was with his wife, his step children and their newest addition to their family. Nick might not have listened, but littl Barbara had clung to his leg and begged him to stay. Jarrod said any business he had could wait and had assured Nick he'd send him word as soon as they got to Livingston and found out what the deal was, "You wait and see. Probably be wondering why we're making the fuss when we get there."

Victoria nodded slowly and turned her gaze back to the scenery outside the stagecoach window, "I hope so." 'If you were my son I'd say, Be proud 'cause any son of my husband's has a right to be proud. Live as he would live, fight as he would fight and no one, NOONE, can deny you his birthright…if you were my son." He wasn't her son, but he was. He was just as much as part of the family as Jarrod, Nick, Gene or Audra. The thought of anything happening to him was just as heart breaking as the thought of losing any of her other children. "I hope Mary is good for him." She knew it was probably the oddest thing to say when it was his living through whatever had happened that was her main concern at the moment; still, she couldn't help but say the words.

Jarrod sighed, "I do too, mother, I do too." Silence once again fell between them as the miles couldn't go by fast enough.

While the stagecoach moved towards Livingston, Mary was using a rag to wipe perspiration from Heath's brow. The fall had bruised his legs, dislocated his left shoulder, cracked a couple of ribs and put quite a nasty gash on the side of his head and one on his back, and he'd been bitten by a poisonous spider after hitting the ground. The doctor had cleaned him up and given him something for the bite. He'd then told Mary they'd just have to wait until he woke up; only he wasn't waking up, and he'd started running a fever. "It's got to be the spider bite causing it." Those had been the doctor's exact words when Mary questioned him about it.

"Heath," Mary set the rag down and looked upon the blonde haired cowboy she now called her husband and let her mind wander back through time, back to a time when her mother was still alive and trying to get her daughter to 'quit being such a wallflower' saying, "It may be good for a woman to be quiet in a lot of ways, but you're too quiet. No one can tell what you're thinking until they've pushed too far and then you explode. Ain't no man gonna want that."

"You were wrong, mama," Mary ran her fingers down the side of Heath's face as she remembered the few conversations they'd had, "You were wrong." When she heard the door open, Mary turned her head. It was Kevin Heaton.

"Hello." She did her best to smile at the man. She knew he was feeling pretty bad about the accident, as if somehow it was his fault. She'd told him more than once not to do that, blame himself that is.

"How are you, ma'am?" Kevin walked over to the side of the bed and looked down at the still unconscious man.

Mary shrugged her shoulders and sighed, "Doing as well as I can, and he's holding his own for now. I wish his family would get here. He needs someone besides a wife he…" she started to say "he barely knows", but stopped. As kind as the man was, he didn't need to know anything concerning the events that brought the marriage on.

"Sometimes, it's all a man be needin' ma'am to fight the ragin' river that he finds himself in," Kevin spoke softly and turned to leave, "I'll keep an eye out fer his family."

Mary waited until after the man was gone before she stretched out on the chair beside Heath, "Please," she whispered as she laid her hand upon his chest, "Please, fight the raging river Mr. Heaton speaks of and wake up; give me a chance, give us a chance."