DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of the TV program "Big Valley" are the creations of Four Star/Republic Pictures and have been used without expressed permission. Credit for dialogue in this story, which is taken directly from the script for the episode "Boots With My Father's Name," goes to Mel Goldberg. No copyright infringement is intended.
This story came about because Mizmoo (Nan) wanted to know why Martha and Matt waited 25 years to approach the Barkley's for money when they knew Tom was Heath's father. Interestingly Hannah supplied part of that answer in the Script of Boots and I have included it here. All the sections in Italics, both the descriptions, which I have elaborated on and the conversations have come directly from the script and not the episode shown on TV so you will all note some glaring differences. One of those differences was the reason for my question on the board as to which episode did Heath first call Victoria, Mother.
Once again, thank you Nan for your invaluable input for this little story. And thank you Kat for the above disclaimer.
I hope you all enjoy this little side story, which really doesn't have anything to do with Conspiracies and Unresolved Consequences!
Burning Question
Victoria made her unhurried way down the hallway of the Stockton Hotel. The previous night's festivities, after the unveiling of her husband's statue in the main street of Stockton, had spilled over into the early hours of the morning. By mutual consent, interspersed with yawns and the occasional stifled burp, the family had agreed that a later than usual breakfast would be the order of the day, before they made the return journey to the ranch. Victoria paused in the doorway of the hotel dining room, a frown appearing on the finely chiselled features as she surveyed the table her family had commandeered for breakfast, with its two empty chairs. One chair was of course, set aside for herself, but it was the second empty chair that drew her attention, raised the hairs on the back of her neck and made her stomach flutter in worry. "Where is your brother?" Victoria asked as she walked, outwardly calmly, up to the table.
Jarrod stood up, pulled out his mother's chair and kissed her gently on the cheek. "Good morning, lovely lady, did you sleep well?"
Victoria took her place at the table and looked at the faces of her three sons, all of whom showed varying degrees of inebriation following last night's celebrations. "Yes, thank you, Jarrod. Obviously better than the rest of you," she remarked, noting that even her daughter, Audra, looked slightly peaked this morning. "Once again, I will ask you all, where is your brother, Heath?"
Nick shrugged apologetically, "He was gone when I woke up this morning, Mother,".
Victoria raised an eyebrow, "Did you look for him Nicholas?"
Nick swallowed and looked sheepishly at his mother, before sighing. "No, I didn't, but you know it's not unusual for him to be up at the crack of dawn. I figured he was just watching the sunrise somewhere like he does every morning."
"We aren't on the ranch, Nicholas. Just where do you think he would go to watch the sunrise in town?"
Nick ran a hand through his thick black hair and shrugged. "I don't know," he mumbled.
"Maybe he found a roof to climb up on," Gene suggested, unhelpfully.
"I haven't seen him either, Mother," Audra offered. "You don't think he's in trouble do you Mother?"
"I hope not Audra."
"Well, if he has done something stupid, I'm sure Fred will be along shortly to tell us," Nick stated.
"What are you thinking Mother?" Jarrod asked, having noted the worry lines creasing Victoria's brow.
Victoria shook her head and smiled, "I'm probably just being foolish. I'm sure Nick is right, and Heath has just gone for a walk to watch the sunrise like he does every morning."
"But…" Jarrod prompted.
"But after yesterday and the attempt on our lives…"
Nick growled: "If I ever see those low lives that called themselves the boy's aunt and uncle, I'll…"
"Thank you Nick," Jarrod admonished before turning back to Victoria. "Mother?"
"I hope he hasn't decided to return to Strawberry and confront Matt and Martha Simmons. He was very angry yesterday, and if I hadn't been with him, I fear he may well have returned to Strawberry right then and finished what they started."
"Oh Mother, he wouldn't, would he?"
"I would like to think not, dear, but he was so angry at the news that they had killed Rachel and tried to kill me..." Victoria thought back to yesterday afternoon and shivered.
After leaving Hannah's house with the letter from Tom safely held in her reticule, Victoria hurried along Strawberry's main street and towards the hotel, stopping suddenly when she realized that her carriage, which she had left outside the hotel, was missing. With Hannah's words 'to get out and get out fast' echoing in her head, Victoria stamped down her fear and continued on to the hotel entrance. A gust of wind swept up the main street, kicking up dust eddies as they passed the hotel and sending a tingle of fear once more through Victoria. Taking a deep breath to still her nerves, she turned towards the alley running beside the hotel to check if her horses and carriage were down there. Another shudder ran down her spine as she peered into the dark, ominous alley. Realizing that Hannah was correct and she needed to get out of Strawberry, NOW, Victoria crossed back to the hotel and entered the empty, silent lobby. She rang the desk bell, called out for Matt Simmons; tried the door behind the desk, only to find it locked. She contemplated taking the uninviting stairs to the upper floor, when the locked door behind the desk suddenly opened and Matt Simmons appeared.
"My carriage, Mister Simmons."
Matt shrugged, "Your horses looked like they could stand watering."
"Thank you. Now if you'll just tell me where they are…" Victoria waited while Matt tried to work out what he should do. "Now, Mister Simmons – RIGHT now."
Matt thought for a moment and then shrugged. "It's in the livery stable, I'll take you there."
Victoria hesitated for a moment, but then started to follow Matt, only to be stopped by Martha coming down the stairs from the upper floor.
"Well, Missus Barkley? I trust Hannah told you everything you wanted to know?"
Victoria nodded, "Yes…everything."
"Then if you'll write that check now… you can be on your way," Martha stated as she reached the lobby floor.
Victoria raised her head, determined not to show any weakness in front of this woman, as she carefully considered her words. "I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to be patient. There are several…details that must be ironed out."
Martha's jaw tightened. "What did that half mad old woman tell you?"
Victoria offered a small smile. "She's not quite sure that you helped out as much as you claim."
Martha drew in a deep breath: "Alright. You offered five thousand. We'll settle for…half. That's a fair offer, Missus Barkley. I'd take it if I were you."
"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to think it over."
"What did that old woman tell you?" Martha demanded.
"Some kind of crazy story about how Rachael went and got herself killed – is that what she told you?" Matt blurted out.
"Shut up Matt," Martha seethed.
"It was an accident. Rachel died in an accident." Matt ignored Martha's warning.
"I'm sure of that. Now will you take me to my carriage?"
"We'd taken her for an outing," Martha began to explain. "She wandered away from us – fell through some rotted boards into an abandoned mine shaft."
"That's the way it happened," Matt agreed.
Martha continued, "She was a sick woman – physically and mentally. Accidents do happen to people who no longer can think clearly."
Victoria remained silent, looking between Matt and Martha before settling her eyes on Matt. "You were going to take me to my carriage."
Matt silently looked to Martha for instructions. "Very well then…" Victoria conceded, "I think I can find it for myself."
Martha stepped forward blocking Victoria's exit. "It was an accident. There's no way of proving otherwise."
"Perhaps," Victoria replied non-committedly.
"We'll take you out to where it happened," Martha stated. "Show you how it happened." Martha turned to Matt. "Help Missus Barkley out back." After a moment's hesitation Matt followed Martha's order and gripped one of Victoria's arms as Martha took hold of Victoria's other arm. "It's bad enough you've decided to leave here without repaying us for what we did for Heath and his mother. But leaving here thinking us murderers… We can't allow that, can we Missus Barkley?" Martha stated as she and Matt started marching Victoria to the door.
"Mother, Mother, are you alright?" Audra called gripping Victoria's arm.
Victoria visibly jumped and then, after taking a deep breath, smiled reassuringly at her daughter. "Yes, Audra, I'm fine. I was just remembering the events from yesterday."
"You haven't told us exactly what happened yesterday, Mother," Jarrod cajoled.
Victoria patted Jarrod's arm, "Perhaps later, not here, at the ranch, but now we have your brother to find."
Realizing that breakfast wasn't going to happen anytime soon, Nick threw his unused napkin on the table and pushed back his chair. Following Nick's lead, Gene and Jarrod also rose from the table. "Why don't you stay here, Mother, with Audra, while Nick, Gene and I look for Heath? I'm sure we'll find him somewhere around town," Jarrod offered.
"Thank you, Jarrod, but I need to search for him too," Victoria stated as she rose from her chair. "He came to my rescue yesterday. Now it is my turn to go to his."
Audra rose from the table and threaded her arm through her mother's. "I'll come too Mother, we'll find him together."
BV
Despite the late night, or early morning as the case was, Heath couldn't sleep, especially with the freight train rumbling on the other side of the room. Heath shook his head as he looked across the room to where Nick was sleeping, sprawled across the bed, shirt unbuttoned, the sleeves draped around the bulging biceps, legs hanging off the side of the bed, one booted foot resting on the floor the other bootless but still socked foot dangling in mid-air, and the blanket crumpled into one corner. Another loud snore from his brother was the final incentive needed for Heath to make a silent but hasty retreat from the room. Quickly dressing and grabbing his father's boots, Heath silently padded to the door. Once in the hotel hallway, Heath wandered to the stairs: taking a seat on the top step, he reached down and tugged on the boots, stopping to gently caress the supple, well cared for leather. With a heavy sigh, Heath made his way down the stairs, through the unattended lobby and out on to the dark sidewalk. Pausing, Heath looked right and left along the main street, not sure where to go from here. The very first fingers of pink were beginning to push at the edges of velvet darkness. Heath considered heading to the livery, collecting his horse and riding out of town to find a high hill to watch the sunrise, but then a lone ray of light caught the statue standing like a silent sentinel in the town square opposite the hotel, and he knew where he needed to be. Crossing the street, Heath stopped in front of the statue of his father, Thomas Barkley. For some reason he was drawn to look at the booted feet of the statue, and then down to the boots he was wearing, his father's boots. Heath shook his head, remembering the events of yesterday morning when Gene handed him the boots and encouraged him to try them on, followed by the rounds of congratulations when they fitted him. Heath snorted, despite his objection, "I don't much go for fancy boots…maybe some other time," he was wearing them anyway. "Do you always get what you want?" he said out loud, not expecting a response.
Sighing heavily, Heath took a seat on his father's feet, and remembered part of his conversation with Victoria in the hotel bar the previous morning. "When I was a little boy Strawberry was a boom town – bursting with life. Then the mines slowly gave out and life with it. Now it's all but a ghost town – living with memories. Memories become twisted with time. When I was a boy it seems to me my mother laughed a lot – talked a lot…about him. Talked in a way that made me think my father was the greatest man who ever lived." Heath shook his head. "I guess you were a great man, to many people, including your family. But to me…I grew to hate you, before I ever knew who you were. I watched my mama die a little every day, watched the light in her eyes dim a little more as the years passed, and I cursed you for having left us behind. Only now I find out that you didn't leave us – me - on purpose. Now, instead of hating you, I have to learn how to reconcile what I thought I knew with what I know now, and forgive my mama for never telling you about me. Why didn't you ever come back, Father? Over the years, did you ever wonder about Mama, how she was? Did you ever think, just once, that maybe you had another son or daughter somewhere?"
The statue faced east. Heath lent back against his father's legs and silently watched as the rising sun's rays bathed first the hat and then inexorably moved slowly down the stone features of the face, over the broad shoulders and chest, unveiled the strong legs and finally enveloped Heath, himself, and the double set of the same boots, in its new day glory.
BV
The family stepped out onto the sidewalk and stopped.
"I'll head across to the livery stable, see if the boy's horse is still there," Nick announced.
Jarrod sighed, "I suppose I should check in with Fred, just in case, not that I expect to find Heath there. Gene; why don't you head on down the street, check the station and then, come back up the on the other side of street. Mother, if you and Audra head up towards the bank that should just about cover the entire main street. We'll meet back here in thirty minutes."
Victoria had only been half listening to Jarrod, her focus instead was on the statue of her husband which she was yet to view in daylight. A slight movement on the far side of the statue at its base caught her eye, and then she smiled as a familiar boot swung into sight and then disappeared again.
"Go back and eat your breakfast, there is no need to mount a search party."
"What?" Audra exclaimed.
"Just what I said, dear: go back in and have breakfast, I know exactly where your brother is. We will be along shortly."
The family watched as Victoria made her way across the street to the statue standing proudly in the middle of the town square, stopped, spoke, not that they could hear her words, only see her lips move, and then took a seat at the base of the statue.
BV
"A penny for your thoughts, Heath?"
Heath looked up into the smiling face. "I doubt they're even worth that much."
"Oh, I don't know Heath; I think they may be worth a lot more than what you give them credit for. May I sit and join you?"
Heath nodded and scooted across making room for Victoria to sit beside him.
"Well, I must say, the likeness is very good," Victoria commented as she studied the statue of her husband in the light of day, before transferring her gaze to Heath.
"I guess, if you say so," Heath shrugged, "I don't really have a reference point to judge it from."
"Yes you do, Heath," Victoria confirmed. "All you have to do is look at yourself in the mirror and you will understand."
Heath contemplated Victoria's words. "I'm sorry for what I called you yesterday."
Victoria frowned in confusion at Heath's words, but also at his obvious change of topic. "I'm not sure what you mean, Heath."
Heath closed his eyes. He had just entered what was left of the town of Strawberry when a faint cry reached his ears: 'Heath!' and then louder 'Heath!'
Heath looked up the street, spying the Barkley horses and carriage parked outside the livery, and three people sitting on the carriage seat. As he drew closer, he watched as his Aunt Martha and Uncle Matt slid out of the carriage. He stopped beside the seat and Victoria reached out to embrace him, tears springing to her eyes. "Heath, Heath."
Heath glanced at Matt and Martha before returning his attention to Victoria. "What's wrong, Mother?"
Heath sighed. "I called you Mother, I have no right to call you that.
"Oh, Heath," Victoria threaded her arm through Heath's and lent against his shoulder. "I was honoured when you called me Mother and I would very much like you to continue, if you wish."
"I…" Heath shook his head. "It wouldn't be right. What would Jarrod and Nick, Audra and Gene say? I mean they're still learning to accept that Tom Barkley is my father too. They're not going to accept me calling you Mother."
"I think they might surprise you, Heath. You just need to give them a chance – but it's not just about them, is it? You're worried that you are dishonouring your Mother too."
Heath sighed, "I know Mama would want me to be happy, even with my father's family, despite trying to keep me a secret – I still love my Mama."
"And you always will, Heath. Nobody, not I or your future wife, not anybody, can ever replace her. She will always be your Mama and will always hold a special place in your heart."
They sat in companionable silence, drawing curious stares from the townspeople venturing out on to the street.
"What kind of trouble were you in?" Heath asked as he prepared to climb into the carriage.
"They killed Aunt Rachel, Victoria replied. "Please, Heath," Victoria spoke quickly, "we can't do anything about it now. We'll tell Jarrod – maybe the law- if there's a way, we'll be back for them."
"Yesterday you said Uncle Matt and Aunt Martha killed Aunt Rachel. Are you sure?"
Victoria shuddered. "I'm sorry Heath, but yes and Hannah believes it too."
"Hannah…when I first spoke to you, you said they might kill you too. Why would Mister and Missus Simmons want to kill you, Hannah?"
Hannah turned to face Victoria, "I didn't say they wanted…"
"You didn't say they killed Rachel either. But you think they did…don't you? What happened to her? Hannah…I'm not leaving until you tell me what happened to Rachel."
"I guess I knows that…," Hannah paused, "Rachel confronted Matt and Martha." Another pause: "A little while later…one of the miners finds Rachel dead…went and fell into a mine shaft. Law should have been called…but nobody cared enough. And me…I was too scared. Lest they throws me into the bottom of a mine shaft too."
"When you arrived, they were about to take me out to show me how Rachel died."
Heath sighed heavily. "But why would they want to kill Aunt Rachel? She was no threat to them."
"That's where you're wrong, Heath, Rachel was a threat to them."
"What do you mean?"
"When we heard Heath was livin' with you, them two wanted to ask you for money. Rachel, she say they try to bother you, she stop them. She say Miss Leah would have wanted it that way."
"Hannah told me that after they found out you were living with us, they wanted us to pay them money. But Rachel said she would stop them if they tried to bother us. She said your mother would have wanted her to." Heath shook his head, "I still don't understand. Why did they want money?"
Victoria closed her eyes and thought back to yesterday's conversation with Martha.
"Yes…we…Matt and I, understand how it is. We never thought to press this, Missus Barkley…but if you felt you owed Heath something…you owe us something too. For keeping him alive."
"You helped Heath and his Mother…financially?"
"All through the nine months my sister-in-law carried his baby. And after that – through the years when she needed help – needed support for both herself and her child – his child. We were there…to help her. We kept her and the boy you've taken into your house as a son alive, after your husband ran out on them."
"And now…now you'd like to be repaid for your sacrifice?"
"We put it to you, M'am…don't you think we deserve it?"
"Martha claimed they supported you and your mother for years after my husband deserted you both."
"That's a lie," Heath replied bitterly. "They never lifted one finger to help us. Mama worked like a slave in their hotel, washing, cleaning, cooking, for a few pennies a week, if they paid her at all. I hope you didn't pay them."
"No, I didn't believe them; when I said I would have to think about, that's when they decided that they would show me how Rachel died."
"I'm sorry you had to go through all of that because of me," Heath apologised.
"Oh Heath, you have nothing to apologise for. The fault lies entirely with your aunt and uncle."
Heath sighed. "What I don't understand is why wait, all this time? If they knew who my father was when I was born, why not ask for money then?"
The silence between them stretched as Victoria formulated her answer. "I believe, in order to ask for money, they would have had to prove to Tom that you were actually his son. As Leah kept your birth a secret from Tom, she was unlikely to agree to help them and they couldn't very well bring you to the ranch without proof of your parentage. And Tom never returned to Strawberry, never saw you. Tom died, and then Leah died, so there was no one left alive to confirm your parentage. It wasn't until after they heard that you were living with us, as Tom's son and a sibling to our children, that they saw their last opportunity to get something. They made it known that they were going to approach us for payment but Rachel stopped them from approaching us. And I fell right into their hands by going there."
A lone tear trickled down Heath's cheek. "Do you know when Aunt Rachel died?"
Victoria stopped the carriage outside the faded sign that read mercantile and climbed down. Her sudden entry brought an abrupt halt to the conversation between the two occupants.
"Lose your way, M'am?
"Not if this is Strawberry."
"This was Strawberry. Now…you name it."
"I'm looking for a woman called – Aunt Rachel – Rachel Caulfield.
"Rachel Caulfield, eh?"
"Do you happen to know her?"
"Knew her real well…"
"Knew…?"
"She's dead."
"Dead…? That hardly seems…when did it happen?"
"Month or two ago…"
Victoria shook her head, "Not exactly Heath, the storekeeper could only tell me it was a month or two ago."
Heath nodded, "Not long after I came here, then."
Victoria reached out and placed her hand on Heath's arm. "I'm sorry Heath."
Heath nodded, "I have to go back to Strawberry, check on Hannah – try and convince her to move closer to here or even to Pinecrest. Find out the truth from my aunt and uncle about Rachel's death."
"Of course, Heath and we will be with you all the way, if you will let us. You are no longer alone."
"Thank you…Mother."
Victoria stood, smiled and offered her hand to Heath. "I like the sound of that. But I think your brothers and sister are waiting for breakfast and Nicholas doesn't like to wait when food is involved."
Heath stood and accepted Victoria's hand. "You're telling me," and he chuckled.
"Thank you, Heath." Victoria smiled.
"For what; Mother?"
"For wearing Tom's, your father's, boots."
Heath shrugged. "It feels right."
The End