JOURNAL ENTRY
He did it again. He did it again! I can't believe that Son of a - Jarrod may mean well, but HE IS DRIVING ME INSANE! Another destitute client that he will 'personally supervise, your honor, to insure he stays out of trouble and hard at work." A more accurate description would be "I'll drop him off at the ranch so he can be Nick's problem while I return to San Francisco for a while."
And just like that it happens. Jarrod brings me someone who probably doesn't even know the meaning of honest work and doesn't want to learn. Mean ole' Nick, that surly bully of a foreman, tries to point out the problems and gets shouted down for being cruel and unforgiving. Of course ,everyone praises Jarrod for being so kind; so willing to give a man a second chance. And who actually has to spend time and energy making sure this latest treasure doesn't burn down the barn, rustle cattle, or get someone killed through sloppy work? Me. And Heath.
I swear Jarrod believes this place runs itself. He has no idea of what it takes to run a ranch. Every time he drops one of his clients in my lap, I gain a useless worker and lose a useful one because someone has to keep an eye on the new guy instead of doing his job. I end up shorthanded and jobs don't get done. And if I hire someone else to take up the slack then Jarrod will wander back home long enough to observe that we really have more people on the payroll than we should and couldn't I just be a little more efficient? One of these days he'll trot out that argument and I'll strangle him. Slowly.
In all fairness, not all of the guys he brings here are worthless. Some do fine once they get the hang of it and get in a routine. Do I ever get credit for that? No. Keno worked out well enough after I crammed him down everyones throat. There was Lenny; I liked him well enough. I spent hours teaching him how to rope, and throw cattle, how to ride a cutting horse, how to keep records-and THAT was fun because I had to teach him how to read first. Give the kid credit…he spent hours learning these things. He put in the time and effort too, and I was delighted when he started borrowing books out of the library.
Then I walk in after spending four days and nights shoring up the levee and Jarrod was back. The moment he saw me he started riding me about how Lenny had "taught himself" to read and write and wasn't I just a little ashamed of myself for not being kinder to the boy? I was so mad I had to stomp outta there before I hit him. Naturally everybody just figured I was being a bad sport.
Jarrod thinks everything runs on honey. He likes being the good guy, and I can reckon that. But he doesn't know what it's like to run a ranch with 40 something employees all of whom, at one time or another, think they can do a better job than you can.
It would be nice to be the one-man crusade to redeem the damned. But I can't do that and run the cattle, and the vineyard and the orchards and balance the books and keep the ranch in repair and do long range planning for the breeding stock and and and and… I have to kick backsides and fire people who don't do their job.
Maybe I am a bully; maybe I should be more patient and understanding. But, sometimes I think that Jarrod, as much as he enjoys being the nice guy, might find it harder to be the voice of kindness if his horse was shoeless, his saddle was dirty, the barn roof was leaking and the cattle were falling dead in the fields while the foreman coddles the ranch hands and serves them breakfast in bed.
"I wanted to kill him."
"You refrained?" Doc asked.
"It took a considerable effort."
"You see? And you thought you had no self control"
Despite his still simmering irritation. Nick smiled, then grimaced as his hand spasmed painfully. He pulled a glove off and started massaging it.
"Hand bothering you, huh?" Doc observed.
'It does that when I get mad." Nick explained.
"Have you been doing any exercises to try to solve it?"
"I spend about a half an hour before bed practicing roping and shooting."
Doc thought about it for a moment. "Maybe you're being to specialized…repetitious. You need to try other activities that require fine motor control with your hands and practice that."
"Like what"
"Well, do you have any hobbies you've always wanted to take up?"
Nick started to say no, then paused. "I used to want to take up fly fishing. I can fish but I never learned fly fishing."
"An excellent hobby; I learned from my father."
" Yeah, My father knew how to fly fish, too. He taught Jarrod. I was always too impatient at the time."
"Maybe Jarrod could teach you. You could have brother time together."
"Naw." Nick scuffed his boot tips into the ground, watching little puffs of dust rise up. "If I ask him to teach me now, sooner or later he's gonna say 'I told ya so' or bring up his latest hire or something something something, ya know?"
"You're certain about that?"
"Absolutely! He just- You don't know what Jarrod can be like. Everyone is always talking about how reasonable he is, and how soft spoken and logical he is and nobody realizes just how hard headed he can like that time he defended that Jeffers boy. He wouldn't listen to reason; he wouldn't take advice. He just dug his heels in and wouldn't budge! He can be so stubborn!"
Nick narrowed his eyes at the physician, who seemed to be scratching his chin vigorously.
"You're thinking that the mule is complaining about the donkey's long ears, aren't you?" Nick demanded.
"Um..Yep." Doc grinned.
"All right. All right so we're both stubborn, usually at the same time. That doesn't change the fact that he WILL say 'I told you so,' When he does I'm either gonna get mad and hit him and everyone will be mad at me. Or I'll be so busy trying NOT to hit him that I won't be able to pay attention to the fishing lesson and I won't learn anything. And I'll STILL be mad at him. What's so funny?" Much to Nick's annoyance, Doc Martin had started laughing.
" You are. No wonder you're going to have a lousy time. You have the whole day planned out, right to when you're going to lose your temper."
Nick just glared at him. Doc Martin had an annoying habit of being right.
"Look, do you really want to learn fly fishing?"
Nick shoved his irritation aside and considered the question.
"Yes."
Doc smiled. "Times awasting."
"Light. Light. Light movements…just barely touching the water, and you have to drop it in the exact same place each time."
Nick cast the line again and winced at the loud splash. "Sorry." He mumbled.
"Try slowing down." Doc Martin suggested. "You're casting too fast and with too much force. Slow down, work on your accuracy. In fly fishing speed doesn't matter."
Nick nodded and changed his pace, concentrating on dropping the fly in the exact same spot.
"Better." Doc nodded approvingly, and cast his own line with breathtaking ease.
Flick…drop. Flick…drop. Nick waited for impatience to throw his developing rhythm off, but surprisingly that never happened. There was something soothing, comforting about the careful beat and the delicate touch fly fishing required and Nick found himself relaxing as his mind drifted lazily along. Maybe this was why the Doc was always so peaceful, and remembered something he had been wanting to ask.
"You don't like Jarrod much, do you?" Had he not been so relaxed, he would have been surprised at how casually he awaited the answer.
"Nope." The Doc dropped the fly neatly into the water. "Does that bother you?"
Nick thought a moment.
"Nope." He decided. "It probably should."
"Why?"
"Well…Love me, love my brother, I guess. Up until now, every friend I had likes Jarrod; admires him anyway. I mean, that's how it is with brothers, isn't it?"
"Really?" The Doc seemed interested. "So, all of Jarrod's friends are people who like you, right?"
"Right." Nick's mind flitted over some of his brother's friends, uncomfortably remembering an introduction Jarrod had made at a party in San Francisco. Jarrod's friend, a well dressed, chilly man had nodded politely at the introduction as Jarrod walked away.
"So, Nicholas. Jarrod tells me you're responsible for the ranch?"
Nick nodded.
"So, I suppose you spend you days outsmarting cows, correct?"
Nick still remembered the stinging snickers that followed.
The fishing line faltered and he concentrated on regaining the rhythm.
One…two…three…four…
That was better; the remembered humiliation faded away and he relaxed into task before him.
"No, not all of them. Most of them are polite; or at least they won't insult me in front of Jarrod. "
"Huh." Doc pulled the line out of the water and started changing out the fly. "Did you ever tell Jarrod when his friends insult you?"
"No." That was another thing to learn from the Doc, how to tie all those different flies. "Why should I? I mean, they're his friends, it's not like he needs my permission to…Oh, I see whatcha mean."
Doc resumed casting and Nick decided to try casting a little farther. He overshot the spot just a little and corrected his aim.
"Why don't you like Jarrod? None of my business, of course, but.."
Doc considered his answer carefully. He was very much like Jarrod in that respect.
"I don't like righteous men."
"What?" That had to be the damndest answer Nick had ever heard. "You mean you don't like him because he's honest?"
"No, by righteous I mean.." Doc trailed off for a moment "How can I put this? Your brother has many virtues. He's honest. He's compassionate. He's smart. But he works very hard at being righteous. He decides on a course action that he feels is just, or that he feels will uncover the truth, and then he pursues it without always considering if it's fair to inflict HIS goals on the people around him. His actions can result in very real pain for the people around him, but he is so focused on the righteousness of his cause that he decides the price is worth it, even if that price is being paid by someone else."
"I'm not sure I understand." He wasn't being honest, Nick had thought the same thing more than once, but was astonished at hearing someone else say it.
"The Mayville court martial business. Jarrod was so convinced he was doing the right thing he decided that your mother, your sister, you, Heath…everyone at the ranch would take part in it. He decided this without consulting any members of the family, and then was genuinely surprised that people were hurt and angry. Didn't you tell me he volunteered Heath for some investigation at a prison that almost got Heath killed?"
"Yep." Nick scowled. He still got angry at that one.
"That's what I mean. Because his intentions are good, he assumes that all of his actions are too and that it's alright to drag everyone around him in as well. It's a careless way to treat the people he loves. That's the main thing. " The Doc gazed at Nick with a blank expression. "I suppose you could list a few minor irritants."
"Well, of course." Nick said. "He's my brother. We've been irritating each other for years." He cast moodily for a few minutes before bursting out. "I think he thinks I'm dumb."
"We discussed that already, though. Is Nick Barkley dumb?"
"No," Nick admitted. "He does dumb things sometimes."
"Who doesn't?" Doc retorted. "I'm guessing if you thought about it you might be able to come up with a few instances of Jarrod doing something dumb."
"This whole 'hire a convict' thing is pretty dumb. I don't think he has any idea of just how hard it is to fit in a new hand who doesn't want to fit in. What's worse he doesn't believe me when I tell him…he thinks I'm exaggerating."
"So, what should Nick do?"
Nick paused. It was somehow easier to think clearly when he stepped back and considered 'Nick Barkley' as a separate person. It somehow put a buffer of sorts between whatever he was angry about and himself, let him clear his head and think without getting all tied up in knots.
"Find a way to show Jarrod instead of just telling Jarrod." He decided.
"How's your hand feel?"
Nick flexed them briefly, surprised when they didn't cramp painfully.
"Better."
"Good." Doc Martin reeled in his line. "You keep practicing for another 15 minutes or so. Tomorrow I'll bring in a metronome to help you with the rhythm."
And with that he was gone.