Chapter 5

After breakfast the next morning, after Nick and Heath had gone out to work, Jarrod spent about half an hour roaming around the parlor, picking objects up, looking at them as if he'd never seen them before. In truth, he found it hard to believe he had ever seen them before. They looked different now. He could see bits of color in a ceramic statuette that he'd never noticed before. He could see details around a picture frame. He could even see entire things – like the statuette of a horse or a small bronze of a Chinese woman – that he hadn't noticed before. He actually enjoyed what he was doing. It was like discovering treasure that had been buried right under his nose.

Victoria caught him at it and watched for several long minutes. What are you seeing in those things? You've seen them over and over, for years and years, and yet now it's like you're seeing something different. Are you? She didn't interrupt him, but abruptly he said, "I've never really looked at these before."

Victoria almost jumped.

Jarrod turned, holding a photo of the family in his hand, smiling softly. "I heard you come in."

"Like you heard the cougar yesterday?" Victoria asked, coming closer.

He didn't answer, but just looked at the photo. "When did we have this taken?"

Victoria looked at it. "Right after Heath arrived. He's turning 28 – I guess that makes it four years."

Jarrod pointed at Nick. "All this time, I thought he had worn a suit for this picture, but he's just in that leather vest of his."

"As I recall, we tried to talk him into wearing a suit like you and Heath did, but he was determined not to wear a jacket," Victoria said. "At least he wore a tie." Victoria looked at her son, at his blue eyes that now looked like they were seeing into forever. "What made you start to look at these things?"

"I don't know," Jarrod said. "Something."

"Like you and the cougar yesterday," Victoria tried again.

Jarrod put the photo down. "I don't know why I heard it. Something made me feel like I was off the road and could see it, hear it."

"You thought you belonged somewhere else," Victoria said.

"Ever since I had that spell when I was sick – that moment or two when I died – "

Victoria cringed when he put it that way.

" – I've been different. I shouldn't be here."

"Where should you be?"

"I don't know. Maybe up in the air and looking down and seeing and hearing everything. "

Victoria took his arm, rubbing it. "Darling, you were very sick. It's going to take you longer to recover than you think."

"Hmm," Jarrod said, but he didn't look at her at first. Then, unexpectedly, he leaned down to her and kissed her tenderly on the forehead. "I'm going to take a walk outside. I won't go far. It's a nice day."

Victoria nodded, and she silently cried. He was sweet, tranquil and thoughtful, but so off alone somewhere. So absent from himself. He knew it, too. No wonder he felt like he didn't belong here. "Just don't get out of sight of the house, all right?" she said, feeling like she was talking to him when he was five years old. Maybe that's what all this was like – like watching a very intelligent five-year-old discover the world again.

Jarrod nodded, squeezed her arm, and headed out the front door.

Victoria stood there for a moment, wiping her face with both hands. When she heard the door close behind him, she took a deep breath and decided to go to the kitchen. Silas was baking some fresh bread. She thought she would help.

XXXXXXXX

To the men who were working in the yard, the men who noticed Jarrod walking up the lane toward the gate, he just looked strange. Jarrod took walks with some frequency, but when he did, he usually looked like he was thinking about something in particular. He'd aim for someplace like the corral, stand there for a while intently, then at some point head back to the house with a resolute step as if he had solved a problem in his head. These days, though, it was more like there was nothing in his head. He wandered more. He stopped and stared at something more. He listened, he looked around him, and when he was ready, he wandered back to the house. That resolute step was gone. That intense thinking that solved problems was gone. It was more like he was just out there feeling, not thinking.

The men learned quickly to just leave him alone. The rumor that he had died for a minute when he was really sick spread around like wildfire, and it made the men who were less educated nervous. A lot of men looked at him like he was a ghost now. Some of the more intelligent men just smirked at that attitude, but they knew something was different about the lawyer, too. So, when he came out and wandered, they just kept an eye on him from a distance, in case he got himself into trouble. So far, he hadn't.

Only one or two men noticed when he stopped and picked something up out of the yard, near the gate. He looked it over carefully. It was small and fit into his shirt pocket, where he put it. He wandered some more, looking up, looking down, stopping to listen. Then, as was his usual habit these days, he wandered back toward the house and went inside.

As he stepped down into the foyer, he took the item he'd found by the gate out of his pocket and stopped, looking it over. He knew what it was. Victoria came in from the kitchen, having heard the door close, and saw him examining the little thing. "What's that?" she asked.

"Nick's lucky penny," Jarrod said, still looking at it.

"Where did you find it?"

"By the gate."

"I guess he must have dropped it. I hope he doesn't notice it today."

Jarrod looked up toward the ceiling. Victoria didn't have the slightest idea why he'd look up that way, so she looked, too. There was nothing there but the usual ceiling.

"Is there something else?" Victoria asked.

"Hmm," Jarrod said.

She touched his hand. "Jarrod – "

He finally looked at her. "Maybe I should take this on out to him."

"I'd rather you didn't go out there on your own," Victoria said.

"I'm all right," Jarrod said. "I didn't have any trouble riding yesterday. If Nick does miss this, it might make him nervous."

"Oh, I doubt that."

Jarrod looked up at the ceiling again, fingering the coin, then putting it back into his pocket. "I will take it out. I'd like to work for a couple hours."

Victoria didn't like the idea.

Jarrod smiled and kissed her on the forehead. "I won't carry a gun. I'll be fine."

She gave in. "Watch out for yourself," she said.

Jarrod had gone out walking without wearing a hat. He fetched it now from the hat rack in the hall, kissed his mother again on the way out the door, and was soon in the stable. He backed his horse carefully out of its stall, ran his hands over the soft, warm hide of the animal that had carried him so far through this life. After a fond pat on the neck, he saddled the horse, feeling the rough yet smooth cloth of the saddle blanket, the warmth of the leather saddle, the cool metal in the bridle. Before long he was mounted and on his way.

He didn't hurry, but he didn't dally, either. Again today the air was fresh and warm. He noticed the scent of something on the breeze and saw several different kinds of wildflowers in bloom. It was early summer. The land was awake and enjoying itself. He enjoyed it, too.

Before long he had caught up with the herd near the north ridge – just in time to see that he was too late. Nick was flat on his back near the chuck wagon, Heath kneeling beside him, a couple men gathered round. Another man was clearing equipment out of a buckboard. Jarrod rode up and dismounted.

Nick was moaning uncomfortably. Jarrod knelt down with Heath. Heath looked up at him and said, "His horse threw him. I don't think he broke anything, but his back is out again."

Jarrod didn't say anything, but he took Nick's lucky penny out of his shirt pocket and held it up in front of Nick's eyes. Nick stopped moaning, focused, and said, "Damn it all," as he took the good luck token from his older brother.

"Derwood," Heath said to one of the men beside him, "ride into town and get the doctor out to the house, will you?"

The foreman, McCall, was nearby. "Why don't you take Nick home, Heath? I'll keep an eye on things out here."

"I'll stay," Jarrod said.

Everyone looked at him, especially Nick and Heath. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Jarrod," Heath said. He didn't like the idea that Jarrod would be here without him and Nick.

Jarrod just nodded.

Nick grew too suspicious to hurt anymore. "Why? What's going on in that head of yours?"

"Nothing," Jarrod said. He looked around and nodded. "You're short handed. I need some fresh air."

Heath looked up at McCall. "Mac?"

"I'll look out for him," McCall said.

"I'd rather you didn't, Jarrod," Nick said. "You look like you're wandering around in the fog."

Jarrod stood up, saying only, "It'll be fine." Then he mounted up and went out to work.

Nick looked at Heath. "Maybe you'd better stay."

McCall said, "Maybe you'd better leave him alone."

Nick and Heath both looked at him, worried.

McCall said, "He's not gonna get over whatever it is that's ailing him if you two keep treating him like he's slow or something. You told me yesterday he had a better idea of what was going on that you did."

Nick and Heath had to admit that. Nick groaned again. "All right," he said. "Just remember, he isn't exactly himself these days."

McCall said, "He'll be fine."

"I'll get Nick home and be back out if I can," Heath said.

"Don't worry about it," McCall said and headed for his horse.

They worried anyway.