Jarrod sat with his mother in the parlor, sipping his scotch and watching her think. He felt she had something she wanted to say and had been waiting most of the evening for her to get around to it. Nick had eaten a hurried dinner and gone back up to sit with Heath. Jarrod smiled softly to himself. Nick, who wouldn't admit Heath could possibly be his brother, would now hardly leave his side. He thought it must be nice to go through life with the strong, simple views Nick held. So few things were grey for his brother. Either Heath was not his brother or he was. If he was his brother, then Nick loved him unconditionally.
Jarrod wasn't sure how he felt about the young man upstairs. He admitted to himself he had spent a lot less time with him than Nick, knew him much less well. He certainly seemed like a nice enough boy, but he didn't think he knew him the way Nick felt he did. He thought that was his fault. The boy had been upstairs now for four days and while he had taken his turns sitting in the room, it had been late at night and he had always brought work with him. Sitting in the silence of the night beside the lamp, not even sure if the boy knew he was in the room.
He wondered on that for a few minutes. Was he avoiding talking to the boy? Why would he do that? He had admitted that the boy was his brother. Then he wondered, was that as far as he was willing to go? Was he willing to admit kinship with the boy, but not willing to allow him kinship? To allow himself to feel for the boy what he felt for the rest of his family? Was he denying Heath the love that Nick was offering so unconditionally? He thought that he was, and wondered, why?
He thought about the day he had met Nick and Heath on the trail back from Horse Lake, the boy looking like he was dying. He had been willing to join in then with the small family Nick was creating with the three of them. He had felt Nick's concern and even love for the boy and had shared it, but once they had returned to the ranch, he had begun distancing himself from Heath. He wondered why?
"When Howard first came here the other night and said Heath had been wounded I should have told him immediately that Heath was Tom's son." His mother surprised him when she finally spoke and it was a moment before he caught her words, so lost was he in his own ponderings about Heath.
He looked at her now speculatively and thought he would probably not have said any differently, indeed had not said any differently, to Howard.
"I felt that omission was a denial. I wondered at myself and yet still said nothing, until Howard was leaving, until I had thought about it. I would never hesitate to claim you or Nick as Tom's son." she continued.
"We don't know if he will stay." Jarrod offered her an apology for her hesitation.
"He's still Tom's son," she said, unwilling to accept his justification for her denial.
"That doesn't mean we need to wander the streets in sack cloth with ashes on our heads." Surprised at his own harshness, Jarrod got up and walked to the cold fireplace, not looking at his mother. He was beginning to understand some of his reluctance to make a place for Heath in his heart and his family.
"Yes," his mother said thoughtfully. "Nick did try to warn us it wouldn't be pleasant welcoming Heath into the family. Is that it? Are we afraid of public scorn?"
He was silent, trying to feel his way through his own concerns. He thought now that he was very worried about something to do with this whole… was it a mess, a conundrum? He didn't like to think he was such a coward that a little public censure would have him denying a brother. Was that really it?
"I don't believe it's that. I certainly hope it isn't." He could turn and face her now that he had admitted one of his concerns to himself, admitted to sharing hers.
He considered his shame on his father's behalf and realized that was the edge of his fear, the easy part of what he'd been afraid to face. "I think that maybe it's fear all right. I think I'm afraid of doing what Nick has done. I'm afraid of loving that boy, offering him everything I hold dear and having him find it inadequate payment for what my father denied him." He spoke slowly, trying to feel for the truth of what he was saying. When he had finished, he thought on his own words for a moment. Yes, he was afraid of offering Heath his love and watching the boy say he didn't need or want that love of family long denied him, and then seeing him ride away, again.
His mother sat silently thinking, slowly twisting her sherry glass in her hand, tracing the lip of the glass with one finger. "Audra acts as if he's always been her brother. Nick acts like a boy with a new puppy. Why is it so much harder for you and I to know how to act?" she asked him.
"Maybe because we're the two grown ups," he said, smiling at her sardonically, pleased to see her return his smile.
She then asked the other hard question. "Is Nick right? Do we just love him and hope that's enough to hold him?"
"I know I've been holding myself apart from him. Afraid I think, to ask those very questions. I won't know if I don't ask." Jarrod was trying to be honest with himself and his mother. Straightening from his place bent over the cold hearth, he returned his glass to the drinks table. "I'm going to go spell Nick for a while. I don't think you can offer love in the abstract. I think I have to just love Heath as a brother and let the chips fall where they may. He either accepts my brotherhood or he goes. I don't think I can hold back the offering until I know if he will accept it." Again he felt the truth of his words as he spoke them and was pleased that his argument seemed valid, suiting his actions to his words, he headed up the stairs to Heath's room.
The room was still light with the late evening sun, still holding the heat of the day in spite of the window being open to catch any breeze. Nick had helped Heath over to one of the upholstered chairs and the two men sat in front of the window, trying to catch any cool air. Heath was better, no longer looking as if he might die at any moment, but far from well. His face was too deeply tanned from a life lived out of doors to ever be pale but there were dark hollows under his eyes and his cheeks were sunken with the obvious flush of a low fever. Heath looked up and smiled as Nick spoke to Jarrod, welcoming him into the room.
"Mind if I join you gentleman?" Jarrod asked as he pulled up the desk chair to sit between the two upholstered ones.
"Always welcome, big brother," Nick said smiling. Heath nodded to him and gave that small upward curl of his lip that Jarrod had come to recognize as a smile.
Nick and Jarrod sat talking quietly about a vineyard Jarrod wanted to plant at the southern end of the ranch. They already had a large vineyard, but Jarrod thought there would be profit in making wine for exporting to the east now that a transcontinental railroad had been completed. He thought the high markup on the wine would make the cost of the shipping worthwhile and wanted Nick to irrigate another 200 acres of pasture to grow grapes. They argued the pros and cons back and forth quietly for half an hour, occasionally trying to draw Heath into the conversation without success. Heath just smiled his small smile at any questions they asked him and refused to be drawn in when asked for an opinion. Jarrod finally allowed the desultory discussion to draw to a close.
"Nick, do you think you could let brother Heath and I have a few minutes?" he asked his brother after a few moments of silence.
"Sure. I'll go down and check with Silas, see if he's getting Heath a tray for his dinner," Nick said after silently studying his brother. Rising to leave, he reached over to give Heath's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Don't let big brother bully you into voting to plant grapes while I'm gone."
Heath looked at him with one eyebrow quirked in surprise and gave his half smile but made no comment.
While he waited for Nick to close the door, Jarrod studied Heath's down turned face. He looked tired and drawn and very gaunt, as if the little food he ate was burned up by his coughing and never made it to his stomach to do him any good.
"You okay there, Heath, or do you want to lie down?"
"I'm good," Heath said, looking at Jarrod, obviously waiting to hear what he wanted to say that he couldn't or wouldn't say in front of Nick.
"I wanted to tell you that I'm going to draw up papers giving you an equal share in the Barkley estate. We, the whole family, would like you to stay here with us. Live with us, be part of our family. But we don't want to use the value of our holdings to force that decision upon you, if you don't want to stay," Jarrod spoke slowly and carefully.
Heath said nothing, just sat and stared out the window at the darkening sky. So far as Jarrod could tell, he was lost in his own thoughts, perhaps not even hearing him. He was surprised that someone could offer this obviously penniless boy a fortune and get no reaction from him. Jarrod waited him out, thinking there had to be some reaction in there somewhere.
"I don't want your money," Heath said coldly. "I didn't come here for money."
"I never suggested you did. You're entitled to your share. We intend you should have it." Jarrod stopped. He had never meant this to sound like a business proposal. He realized now he had been wrong to lead into this with the money.
"Please forgive me. I'm a lawyer; sometimes I'm guilty of putting legal issues ahead of emotional ones. This was one of those times." Jarrod stopped again. Hoping if he could pause, he could begin the conversation again.
"I know Nick has been after you to say you will stay. I know Audra just assumes you are going to stay. I want you to stay as well. I want you to stay because you want to be part of this family, because you feel for us a connection that we are coming to feel for you." Jarrod paused; it was so much easier to talk about dividing the estate than uniting the family. He wondered why that would be?
"I know Nick has been putting quite a bit of pressure on you to say you'll be part of this family and this ranch. I want you to know that we all feel that way. But we won't force you to stay. That if you don't want us, it doesn't change the fact that you are Tom Barkley's son and as such are entitled to a share of what he amassed in his lifetime."
"I don't want your money," Heath said again, looking at him with cold blue eyes. Jarrod was reminded of the time he'd come home from school and had to tell his father that he had left Nick behind with a lame horse. That same look of disdain and disappointment was now in those eyes looking at him.
"It's not my money. It's your money too," Jarrod tried to explain. "I'm not offering you anything, I'm trying to explain that what's ours is yours."
"I don't want your money," Heath repeated, in no way mollified by Jarrod's explanation.
Jarrod understood some of the frustration Nick must have been feeling the past week; it was like trying to argue with a rock.
"I don't care about the money," Jarrod said. "I'm trying to explain. We don't care about the money. Stay or go, it's all the same to us with the money." That hadn't been what he wanted to say. Now he was back to talking about the money again. Talking to this boy seemed to do no good. He said nothing and seemed to defeat every argument anyway.
Jarrod sighed and looked out the window in silence for a moment. He tried to think why arguing with Heath was so fruitless. He realized suddenly it was because he didn't argue. He laughed slightly to himself and noticed Heath looking at him with that quizzical eyebrow again.
"I just realized something I should have understood a long time ago," Jarrod said. "What I came up here to say is that I'm really glad you are here. I'm glad you came and found us, told us about my father being your father." Jarrod stopped; it was hard for him to speak in the simple declarative sentences. He wanted to try and cover every possible angle of debate when he laid out his position, but with Heath there was no point. He wouldn't argue so laying out points of argument just defeated his position before he even made his point. "I really want you to stay. Be a part of our family. We will be less if you leave."
Like all of his other arguments, this one too seemed to fall into a well of silence, but he waited. He didn't take the side of the opposition and continue to argue. He waited for Heath. One minute ran into two and still the boy made no reply. Finally, when Jarrod decided maybe he had misread his brother yet again, Heath spoke.
"Thanks, Jarrod." He looked over at Heath who had that half smile on his face again. He smiled back at him. He decided that was sort of a start, maybe.
"I'm going to go dress for dinner. You need anything before I leave?"
Silence again but Jarrod waited this time. He would wait as long as it took Heath to say something, at least a simple yes or no.
"You do know that folks don't invite their bastards to take up residence in the family home, right?" Heath asked in the longest sentence Jarrod thought he had ever heard him utter.
"It's not uncommon for brothers to live together, though. Is there a reason you don't want to live with us?" Then he could have kicked himself. There he was, making arguments again. Why did he have so much trouble just saying what he wanted? But he waited anyway and let Heath work his way around and see if he would answer.
"I've been a bastard all my life, Jarrod. I know how people act. It's not good for your family."
Jarrod felt like singing Hallelujah; this was the closest he had yet come to actually having a discussion with Heath. He felt that he had at last discovered the crux of the boy's problem with staying. He stopped himself before he jumped into the fray with his rebuttal. He stopped to think as Heath did, to consider what Heath had said and why he had said it. He thought about Strawberry and what growing up with no father, a bastard in a small-minded mining town, would be like. He was glad he'd stopped to think. A cavalier it won't be a problem for us was not the right answer.
"You're right. I've always had the protection of a well respected and a loving family. I don't know what it is to be ostracized for something over which I had no control." He paused. He needed to get his response exactly right. "There will certainly be people, people we know and thought cared for us, who will take exception to your being here." He stopped and thought he could name a few of them without much effort. Then he leaned forward and put his hand on Heath's forearm. "But I don't know of anyone's scorn that I couldn't easily withstand to have my brother by my side." Then taking a page from Heath's book, he stood up. "I'm off to change. I'll see you later."