Chapter 9
Jarrod spent the next day finishing the will he had mentioned and writing another one from scratch. He wondered, when he started, what getting back into legal matters would do to this feeling like he wasn't where he belonged. He even wondered, as he pulled out his own will and thought about reviewing it, what that would do, but it really didn't really do anything. It was like looking at someone else's will, not his own. No matter. He got the work done, he did it properly. For now, that was all that mattered.
At dinner, he abruptly said, "I want to go into the office tomorrow."
Victoria, Heath and Audra looked at each other, surprised. "Do you feel like getting back to work?" Victoria asked.
"I need to see what's there," Jarrod said, and left it at that.
Audra said, "I'm going in to spend the morning at the orphanage. We can ride in together."
Jarrod nodded and said, "Hmm."
"Wonderful," Audra said. "It'll be nice to have the company. Perhaps we can even have lunch together."
Jarrod nodded and said, "Hmm," again. But he stared into his coffee as he did it, and it was a long set of heartbeats before he said, "I haven't been to Cattlemen's in a while."
Audra perked up. "Then Cattlemen's it is!"
But he was quiet over lunch, saying little after ordering for both of them. Audra tried to draw him out. "Was there much work waiting for you at your office?"
"Wills I still need to write, and a couple of easements," Jarrod said.
"Has your secretary been in?"
"She looked after the mail for me."
"The children at the orphanage have a new part-time teacher. Rose Bray is coming in twice a week."
"Hmm."
Audra lost interest in trying to think up new things to say after a while. She just eyed her brother, noticing that he really didn't seem sullen, just uninterested. Finally, she said, "I'm sorry I'm not better company."
Jarrod looked up. "You're beautiful company," he said. "I'm just still a bit off kilter."
"We haven't really talked about it, you and I," Audra said.
Jarrod said, "I still haven't gotten myself back from being sick, that's all."
"We thought we'd lost you. Sometimes it still feels like we have."
Jarrod gave a sigh and reached for her hand. For the first time, he felt a bit frustrated with this person he had become. He didn't like making Audra upset. "I'm still here. I just need time to come around, that's all."
"How can I help?"
He smiled. "I know it doesn't seem like I'm listening when you tell everyone how your day went, but I am. Maybe I seem distracted, but I don't think I am. I know what's going on."
Audra smiled. It was the most he'd said to her in weeks. "Maybe better than anyone does, so Heath says. He says you're noticing things the rest of us are missing."
Jarrod nodded. "I just feel out of place a little."
"Like you should be somewhere else," Audra said. "Like you don't belong with us anymore."
"It's not that I don't belong with you," Jarrod said. "It's just that I don't belong wherever it is that I am. It'll pass, or I'll cope, so the doctor says."
Audra was a little surprised. "You really aren't worried, are you?"
"No, I'm not," Jarrod said. "I'm just a little foggy, that's all."
"That must be pleasant – to have no worries."
Jarrod smiled. "It is."
"Now I think I'm jealous."
Jarrod laughed. It was the first time Audra had seen him laugh since he'd been sick. Maybe he was coming around, healing or coping.
When they left the Cattlemen's, they decided to head home. Audra was finished at the orphanage, and Jarrod had his briefcase loaded with work he could do at home. Jarrod helped his sister up into the buggy they had come to town in, and then he climbed in to drive. And then he stopped, staring.
"What is it?" Audra asked.
"That man over by the barber shop," Jarrod said. "The left-handed one with the light colored hat. How do we know him?"
Audra looked. There was a young man coming out of the barber shop, fitting Jarrod's description. "I never saw him before. Have you?"
"Yes," Jarrod said. He kept looking, until the young man noticed he was being stared at. He turned and walked away, keeping them from seeing his face anymore.
"Maybe you'll think of where you know him from later," Audra suggested.
"Hmm," Jarrod said, scowling after the man. He felt uneasy, suspicious, but he gave the horse the reins and they headed on home. Something was trying to get into his mind, but he was still foggy. It wouldn't penetrate the fog.
They didn't talk much on the way. Audra could tell Jarrod was distracted again – or maybe not distracted. Maybe he was trying to think of where he had seen the man before, or maybe just off in his own world again. In any event, Audra didn't want to disturb him, so she kept her words to herself. When they got home, Jarrod handed the buggy off to a stable hand and helped Audra down. He grabbed his briefcase out of the buggy and followed Audra into the house.
"Well, did you have a productive morning?" Victoria asked, coming toward them from the parlor.
"Oh, yes," Audra said. "The children are all fine."
Jarrod didn't speak. He was still thinking, trying to remember. It was frustrating that he didn't remember. He hadn't felt frustrated since before he was sick. He didn't like the feeling.
Audra said, "I think I'll go freshen up," and she headed upstairs.
Victoria touched Jarrod's arm, drawing his attention. "And how was your morning, darling? Did you do what you needed to do?"
He nodded. "I picked up the work I need to do yet. I'll do it here."
Victoria didn't like his frown. "Is anything wrong?"
"I saw someone in town," Jarrod said. "A young man. I knew him from somewhere. I just can't think of where."
"It'll probably come to you when you're not thinking about it," Victoria said.
"Hmm," Jarrod said, and realized she was right. He was trying too hard to remember. He put his briefcase down by the stairway, then headed for the refreshment table. He poured himself some scotch, then took it to the fireplace and stared into the glass, leaning against the mantle. It was tough not to think about it, but he closed his eyes for a moment and just tried to let things be.
Maybe he was thinking about something specific this time, not just wandering off to wherever it was he thought he belonged now, but Victoria still didn't like it. Before he was ill, if he went off into his thoughts like this, he would come out of them if she spoke to him, but lately all she would get was that "Hmm." She tried anyway. "What was it about him that looked familiar?" she asked.
He didn't answer.
"Jarrod? What was it?"
"Hmm," he said, and then after a few more heartbeats, a few more scowls, he said, "the left-handedness. The color of his hat. I've seen him before, not – "
He suddenly stopped. Victoria said, "Jarrod? Have you remembered?"
Jarrod turned. "He was with the rustlers the other day. He's the one who shot McCall."
"Are you sure?" Victoria asked.
Jarrod put his glass down on the coffee table, saying, "I'm sure," and he headed for the hall. When he came out, he had his gun and he headed for the front door.
"Where are you going?" Victoria said, going after him.
"I need to get back to town."
"Jarrod, why don't you wait for Heath?"
"It'll take too long," Jarrod said.
"Jarrod!" Victoria called, but he was already out the door.