Tom Barkley always believed a man should make his destiny. It should be built through his own ingenuity, with his own hands. A man's worth is seen in his accomplishments. This was the major lesson Jarrod left home with and Father backed his words with action. He worked hard and he built the ranch in what was once California wilderness from his own grit and stubbornness.
He was an Easterner with a great deal of wanderlust and an idea he should own some of that land the army was opening up out West. He was twenty-five when he struck out carrying only money enough to secure his passage. He met Silas in Missouri and bought his freedom with that money. It slowed Father's plans considerably, but he'd found a loyal friend in Silas who stayed by him through thick and thin. Jarrod knew Silas had begun his life in slavery. But that was all he really knew. Neither Father nor Silas had ever explained the situation they found themselves in during that period. It was a matter between the two of them. Jarrod had always wondered about it.
The ice had broken between Jarrod and Silas as they settled their horses in the stalls. Each helping the other with various tasks.
"What was Father like back then?" Jarrod asked. "I've heard his stories, but you...you've always been reluctant to speak about what was likely the most interesting time in your life."
"What a time it was," Silas said. "We saw many things. Experienced more in a few years more than most experience in a lifetime. Men traveled through dangerous territories back then just to get to California. The land was wild. Full of wild men, bandits and hostiles, but we made it, and by the skin of our teeth a time or two." A smile warmed his face. "I never spoke to you about those days because, well, you were his son. They were his stories to tell you, and from what I've heard, he was mostly accurate."
"Mostly?" Jarrod replied. "You see? There are truths that I don't know."
"The inquisitive side of you wants to know every side of every story. That is why you're so good at lawyering," said Silas. "Unfortunately some mysteries must always exist. It makes life a little more interesting."
"Silas, this mystery about Heath...the one you kept from me-"
Silas looked at him sharply. "I knew nothing about the boy. I just know your father. I was around in those days, remember. You were a boy. You couldn't possibly have seen the signs. He often traveled to and from Strawberry. I knew him well enough to suspect, but I never questioned him. I would never pry in his personal affairs. I regret that I couldn't help you. But even if I had known and I had told you, would the pain be any less? I hate this situation as much as you, but I love your parents and your family. I pray every day that God will see us through...and I believe he will."
"I don't feel comforted, Silas," said Jarrod. "And I don't have the faith enough to believe God can fix this. It's too late. Mother's here. She has to know, but I can't tell her when it's Father's doing. I'm afraid this secret will destroy my family."
"Have you met his son?"
"Sure I have."
"What kind of man is he?"
"Man?" Jarrod laughed. "He's not a man, he's a boy."
"Can you not see the man he will become?" Silas said. "Why I knew you would be a fine man the day you was born. I saw it in your eyes. The way you looked at things. You were always interested in what went on around you."
Jarrod thought about it. Even though he tried not to, he had taken a liking to Heath. The boy had kept Nick alive-from what he heard, not a simple task-and Nick seemed to have already adopted him. Even in his own brief interactions with Heath, Jarrod found nothing disagreeable about the boy. Under better circumstances, he would have thought very highly of him. "But what has that to do with anything?" he said. "So, he's a good person, but that doesn't change the fact that my father bedded another woman and Heath is here as living proof. How will my mother reconcile that?"
"Your mother is a practical woman and a good judge of character. She already understands more than she's been told." Silas said. "She'll need time and understanding, but she will come through."
Jarrod had seen his mother angry at his father before. Their disagreements could become quite volatile. At times when he was a boy, he'd had to step in to ease the tensions, to keep one of them from getting hurt, and it usually ended up badly for him. He shook his head. "We'll have to disagree, Silas. You're not their son. You're standing on a mountaintop while I sit on a powder keg."
It was the wrong thing to say. The sad look on Silas's face explained it all. Jarrod just wanted this all to end. This should not even be his problem! He turned to remove the blanket from the horse's back-
Two shots exploded in the street. Jarrod drew his gun and dashed to the stable door.
The scene, once Jarrod came upon it, was one of chaos which Sheriff Madden was slowly putting a lid on. He had help, another deputy had arrived in Strawberry. It must have been their guns that sounded to quell the violence.
Nick was sitting on the ground, panting with one hand cupped over his bloody nose. Another man was on the ground too, but he lay spread eagle in the dirt and wasn't moving.
"You kilt my cousin!" one of the dusty men yelled as he struggled with the deputy. Obviously from his disheveled look, he was in on the brawl. "I'm gonna kill you!"
"I'll fight ya!" Nick said as he climbed unsteadily to his feet. "Let him go, Alan!" he said to the deputy. He lifted his fists. "I'm ready for him."
Jarrod holstered his gun as he got to the scene. He faced Nick. "I can't leave you alone for five seconds, can I?" He grappled with Nick to get his hands down.
Nick jerked away from him. He kicked the prone man lying in the street. The man didn't respond and Jarrod grabbed Nick by the arm and pulled him clear. Nick stumbled next to Jarrod and tried again to pull free, but Jarrod had a firm grip.
"What's wrong with you?" Jarrod asked. "The man is out cold!"
"He hurt Audra."
"What?"
"He threw a rock and it hit Audra. It's my duty to kill him."
Jarrod gripped him hard. "Is she alright?"
"She'll live, I don't know about him."
"Is. She. All. Right?" Jarrod demanded.
Nick came out of his anger briefly. He looked Jarrod in the eyes and his mood shifted, albeit briefly, to one of conciliation. "It hit her arm. He could have broken it for all I know."
Jarrod switched from holding him back, to holding him up. He squeezed his eyes and then turned to look at the scene. The man on the ground was coming to, thank God. The last thing they needed was a murder charge on top of everything else. They still didn't know whether or not Nick would be charged in Bill Tennant's or Matt Simmons's deaths. He saw Fred who was entirely displeased.
Fred knelt beside the man Nick had nearly pummeled to death. "This is one hell of a mess, Jarrod," he said. "One hell of a mess. Where's your father?"
"That's what I would like to know," said the calm voice of Victoria. She stood on the porch, a silver derringer she held down at her side glinted in the sunlight.
"I want answers," she demanded as she paced the lobby of the Strawberry Hotel. One son could possibly have a broken nose along with an already stitched scalp he had been lucky enough to avoid damaging further. The welt on her daughter's arm was quickly darkening into a deep contusion. Both of them would probably have to see Dr. Merar immediately upon returning home.
Even Silas seemed to have abandoned her, as he disappeared on the pretense of getting cool well water for Miss Audra.
"Both of my grown sons have shown childish behavior since I arrived," she stated. "Neither of you will speak to me honestly. Since Fred has told us to stay put in this hotel, or leave town, you can no longer avoid me. You're keeping something from me to save your father. Don't you know by now nothing can save him?"
"Mother," Jarrod said quietly. "Would you please put away the derringer?"
She stopped pacing and realized she had been agitated and tapping the weapon against her leg. "Oh dear God!" In the state she was in, she might accidentally shoot herself. She replaced it into the small holster she wore at her waist.
"We should just tell her," Nick groaned. He still sat on the sofa with his head back, holding the wet cloth to his face. "How could things get any worse?" He reached over blindly to pat Audra on the shoulder and she cuddled up next to him. "Are you alright, Sweetheart?"
"I'm alright," Audra whispered in a weepy voice.
He dropped his arm around her.
Jarrod glanced at Mother and found she was looking at him. Waiting for him to step in again and mediate. It seemed to be the role he played in the family. "It has gone too far," he finally admitted. "I can see now that by trying to protect you, we're only hurting you." He looked at Audra and Gene and although they should understand the situation, it would not be fair to Mother to receive the news about Father for the first time in front of them.
"Mother, I'll tell you everything, but in private," Jarrod glanced at Nick, who peeked out from the cloth at him. After receiving a brief nod of encouragement from his injured brother, it suddenly seemed the best course to take. Jarrod stood and offered her his arm which Mother took silently. He patted her hand and then clutched it tightly with a deep sigh.
"Jarrod..." she began uneasily. She touched his shoulder with her other hand and clung to him. "What has my husband done?"
"Wait," he whispered. "Just wait..." He led her to the billiards room, the only downstairs room other than the kitchen that could be closed off.
Once they entered the room, he held her a moment. When they released each other, he turned to close the doors. The last image he saw was of Audra curled up next to Nick, and Gene, standing now and staring back at him wide eyed and worried.
Jarrod closed the doors.
"Nick, is Father alright?" Gene asked.
"Oh, he is just fine." Nick replied. "Don't worry a bit about him."
"Is he in trouble?"
"Yes, Gene." Nick sighed. "He's in trouble."