Chapter 7

They all let things lie then. They didn't say anything more about it. All through dinner, there was little conversation as they each sorted out what had happened and what it meant to them. They wandered away from each other after dinner, but they all stayed in the house. Nick did not leave to go into Stockton.

Nick thought about it all night. He fell asleep remembering what Jarrod had said, what Heath had said, and when he dreamed, he dreamed about himself as a little boy. He dreamed about a mother and a father and a big brother, all of whom looked out for him and loved him. And made him feel safe. He woke up in the morning feeling like that little boy again. Safe.

At breakfast, he said, "I'm not gonna go see Belinda. I'm not gonna ask you to find my son anymore, Jarrod."

Heath and Jarrod looked at each other. Jarrod didn't know exactly what Heath had said to Nick the night before that made him stay home, that made him calm down, but his eyes were full of gratitude for his younger half-brother. Jarrod said, "You're making the right decision, Nick."

"I want you to tell her something for me though," Nick said. "Tell her I forgive her. Just that. Don't tell her I understand why she did what she did, because I don't and I never will. But tell her I forgive her."

"I'll tell her," Jarrod said.

When he went to town, Jarrod headed straight for the Cattlemen hotel, and this time, he found both Belinda and her husband in. He went to their room, and Limpert opened the door to him. Jarrod had his hat in his hands, saying, "This won't take long. I don't want to disturb you, but it's important."

Limpert opened the door. Belinda was standing in the middle of the room, wiping her eye. Jarrod came in, but only as far as necessary for Limpert to close the door behind him.

Jarrod said, "I just wanted you to know I told Nick and the rest of the family everything you told me, Belinda. It was rough. You know Nick – it was difficult. But he wanted you to know that he wouldn't come to see you. He asked me to just tell you that he forgives you."

Belinda nodded and wiped another tear away.

Limpert said, "I'll be finishing that audit today. My wife and I will be leaving town on the late train."

Jarrod nodded. "I wish – well, I wish things had been different, but I wish you both a lasting happiness. Sincerely."

Limpert nodded and let Jarrod back out. Jarrod stood outside the door, knowing his business with this family was through now and he would never know if they got that lasting happiness. As he put his hat back on and walked away, he hoped Belinda and her husband were working things out.

He could not know that at that moment, Limpert was taking Belinda into his arms and saying, "We'll figure this out. We will."

Epilogue

Eighteen Years Later

Nick looked at the photo in the three-day old San Francisco newspaper and grinned from ear to ear. "Will you just look at that? Have you ever seen a more beautiful bunch of women in your life?"

His wife, Nancy, looked over his shoulder and gave him a peck on the cheek. The photo in the society pages of the paper was of Nick Barkley, proud father of debutante Victoria Barkley and her two younger sisters, Margaret and Audra Elizabeth. Nancy had insisted that the photo of Nick and his girls be the one the paper carried. She never liked having her picture taken, and this one, taken just before the debutante ball in San Francisco, was one she just loved.

Nick passed the newspaper to his mother, who sat on the settee beside Heath's wife Suzanne. They both looked at the photo and smiled. Standing nearby, Heath smiled too.

Nick's daughter Victoria was the oldest of his and Nancy's children. Her sisters were twins. Heath and Suzanne had two boys and lived in a nearby house at the ranch with Nick, his wife, and Victoria. The big house was usually full of noise, but with Nick's daughters all at school now in San Francisco, Heath's boys currently out in the stable, and Audra at her own home with her own brood, right now it was quiet. Right at this moment, as the adults gathered for drinks before dinner, they enjoyed looking at the photo in peace and quiet.

"I am one lucky man," Nick said with a sigh, leaning back in the armchair that was once Jarrod's thinking chair and toasting his good fortune. Nick was sporting some grey hair now, but he was even lucky at that. Nancy told him that the greyer he got, the more handsome he was.

"I'm a lucky grandmother," Victoria said. She was a little more frail now, but not much. She could still get up and down the stairs and she could still mount a horse with only occasional help. "My namesake looks just like me, don't you think?"

"She does," Suzanne agreed. "She has exactly the same sparkle in her eyes."

The knock at the door drew their houseman, Albert, in from the dining room. Silas had passed on years earlier. Albert had been Jarrod's houseman in San Francisco. He opened the door to find a young man standing there, holding his hat.

This was not a cowboy. This young man wore a business suit and a tie – but when Victoria looked up, she thought she was seeing a ghost. The young man smiled with a huge set of dimples and a cautious sparkle in his own eyes. "Hello," he said. "I'm looking for Nick Barkley."

Nick turned in his chair just as Victoria stood up. Nick saw it too. So did Heath. So did Nancy and Suzanne. They all knew the story of Belinda Fisk and her child, and they all heard that startling sound – Nick's voice, coming out of this young man at the door who smiled at them with Nick's dimples.

"Come in, please," Victoria said.

Albert opened the door and let the young man in. Nick started toward him, looking puzzled, looking – hopeful? "What can we do for you?" Nick asked.

"I'm not sure," the young man said. "My name is Timothy Sykes. I'm from San Francisco, and I saw this picture in the newspaper there."

He pulled a newspaper clipping out of his pocket and handed it to Nick. It was the same photo of Nick and his daughters the family had just been looking at.

Nick looked at himself in the photo, and looked up at Timothy Sykes – who looked just like he looked twenty years ago.

"This is ridiculously forward of me," Timothy said, his manner very polite and educated, "but I saw this photo and I saw how much we looked like each other and frankly – well, Mr. Barkley, I was adopted out of a home run by Catholic nuns. I grew up not knowing who my real parents were. Not to say I didn't have a family. I had a wonderful family. They loved me and they educated me but they're gone now and when I saw this photo – well, it filled a hole in me because I saw I looked just like you. I know this is presumptuous – "

"How old are you?" Nick interrupted.

"Twenty-four," Timothy said.

"You were born in June."

Timothy looked surprised. "Yes."

"You live in San Francisco?"

"I always have. I'm told I was born there. I'm reading law there now, to become a lawyer."

Nick nearly choked.

Victoria, on the other hand, was shivering with anticipation. She knew exactly who this young man was. She only needed a little more confirmation. "You don't know who your real parents were?"

"No," Timothy said. "I just saw this picture and I – well, I'm really being presumptuous – "

"No," Nick said, beginning to tremble and smile at the same time. "No, I don't think you are. I think you're right where you're supposed to be."

Heath shook his head, smiling, and said, "I told you so."

"What?" Nick asked.

Heath said, "I told you eighteen years ago. When he was ready, he'd find you. "

(to be continued…)