Chapter 2

It was the next week when Jarrod, Victoria and Audra rode into town together on the surrey. Jarrod and Victoria left Audra off at the orphanage so she could help the children with their reading lesson. Then, they went to the bank.

The bank manager was so pleased to be putting Jarrod's name on the private account his family had put his assets in when he was missing, that he almost wanted to frame the bank's copy and hang it on the wall. When Jarrod put his signature on the ranch's accounts, the bank manager nearly cried with happiness.

Jarrod had to laugh – and then he caught his breath when he saw how much was in his personal account. "I'm worth this much? I don't believe it."

Victoria said, "Believe it. You had a very successful law practice. You built it up over the years and became one of the most respected lawyers around. You were well known at the legislature, too – although they didn't always like the laws you were trying to get passed."

Jarrod shook his head. "I had no idea. I never dreamed – I just never even considered – "

The words wouldn't come. Victoria saw that he was truly shaken, by the bank account or by something more. She took him by the arm. "Don't worry. No one is expecting you to live up to the Jarrod Barkley who was. We all know you have to rebuild, and who this next Jarrod Barkley will be – he'll be mostly the man you choose him to be."

Jarrod looked very confused for a moment. He just stood there, looking at his bank statement, too stunned to speak.

Victoria led him out into the sunshine and they stopped together near the surrey. Jarrod put his bank statement into his pocket, taking a deep breath as he did.

"What are you thinking?" Victoria asked.

Jarrod didn't look at her as he said, "Right this moment I feel like I have no idea who I am. I mean, I'm clearly not Dakota anymore, but this Jarrod Barkley – the one who built up this bank account, the one you told me tried to get laws passed –" He shook his head.

"I'm sorry," Victoria said. "I didn't realize how much you were still hurting."

Jarrod looked at her. "Hurting isn't the right word. When I was Dakota – I was just lost. I had no sense at all of who I was or where I belonged. Over time, I made Dakota into someone who was actually a man who had some sense of being real, but now, I feel a bit lost again. I'm not Dakota anymore, but I'm not this Jarrod Barkley fellow either." He smiled an awkward smile. "Right this moment, I'm not really sure who I am."

Victoria squeezed his arm. "Keep looking at me."

Jarrod looked at her and did not look away.

"Don't let Jarrod Barkley intimidate you. Yes, you were that man who built up a successful law practice and worked with the legislature and yes, was even on a first name basis with the governor. But that was only part of who Jarrod Barkley was. Down deep, at the foundation, Jarrod Barkley was a fine man and a fine son, a man who could be trusted and a man his family loved. You're still that man."

Jarrod listened, but then he said, "Is he enough for you, or do you want the rest of him back, too? Are you sure you don't want me to go to court and see a trial so that this other Jarrod Barkley comes back to you too?"

"What I want doesn't matter," Victoria said. "You built that other Jarrod Barkley because that was who you wanted to be at the time, and we all encouraged you and supported you. That won't change. You are reinventing Jarrod Barkley now, and doing that is a unique opportunity that almost no one ever gets – to remake himself in the image he sees now. Please know that you're doing that with our love and support, and if you never set foot in a courtroom or the legislature again, it won't make any difference to your family. Rebuild Jarrod Barkley to your own liking – be a lawyer or a cowboy - and we will love you as much as we ever did."

Jarrod was nearly moved to tears. He took his mother into his arms and kissed the top of her head. "Thank you, Mother. I think that's what I needed to hear."

"I need to go to the mercantile," Victoria said. "Would you like to get a cup of coffee first?"

"No," Jarrod said. "I think I'd like to pay a quick visit to the courthouse."

Victoria was surprised. "Are you sure?"

"Just a visit to the office there, find out what's going on, nothing big. Just to get my feet wet, see if I like the temperature of the water." He smiled.

Victoria squeezed his arm, and in a few minutes, they walked into the courthouse door.

XXXXXXX

"Court will be in session again next Tuesday," the court clerk told them. "We've got an assault case coming to trial – jury trial, if you want to see the whole shebang, Mr. Barkley."

Jarrod took a deep breath to steady himself. He was still a bit unsettled from the visit to the bank – or was it because he was actually here in the courthouse again, right after that discussion with his mother? "I'll come in and see how things go," he said. "I have to ask – do I know you?"

The clerk smiled sympathetically. "Yes, sir, you do, but I understand you have some memory problems. We've known each other for five years, ever since I became the court clerk. My name is David Franks." He extended his hand.

Jarrod took it. "Thanks for bearing with me. I suppose I contributed a bit to your workload."

"Yes, there's a lot of paper around here with your signature," Franks said. "I don't know if you're ready to resume your practice, but it is awfully good to have you back."

"No, I'm not ready to resume my practice, but I'm glad to be back nonetheless. And I might see you next Tuesday."

Jarrod and Victoria left then. As soon as they were out of the courthouse, Victoria saw him visibly relax. "I'm sorry that made you so nervous."

Jarrod smiled. "Just a reaction. It kind of washed over me when we went through the door, maybe – I don't know. Maybe you were right and I'm letting the old Jarrod Barkley intimidate me. I can't say I'm sorry court's not in session today."

"Well, you have a few days to get used to the idea of seeing a trial. Would you like me to come with you?"

"If you don't mind, I think I'll talk to Nick and Heath about that, see if one of them will come with me – if I decide to come." Then he shook his head and let an embarrassed breath out. He smiled. "Oh, Mother, this reinventing Jarrod Barkley is a nerve-wracking task. My head is doing some fancy swimming today."

"Well," Victoria said, grasping at a few straws herself now, "New things make us nervous, and you've had nothing but new things thrown at you the past few weeks. Just try not to be nervous about being nervous."

Jarrod smiled at her. "You're a very wise lady, you know that? A very wise and a very lovely lady."

Victoria stopped, nearly choking.

"What is it?" Jarrod asked, alarmed. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," she said with a smile but actually began to tremble. "It's just – that's what you used to call me, 'Lovely Lady.' I thought I'd never hear you say it again."

Jarrod kissed her on the forehead to head off the tears, but a few escaped anyway. Jarrod wiped them away for her. "Well, now that I know about it, I'll say it more often, Lovely Lady. Have a cup of coffee with me?"

Victoria nodded. "The Stockton House café will be open."

XXXXX

After having coffee, Victoria and Jarrod went to the mercantile. There were no other customers there, and the clerk had plenty of time for them. Jarrod looked around idly while Victoria told the clerk why they were there. He went into the back, and soon he came out with a fine walnut box, about four by eight inches and three inches deep. Curious, Jarrod rejoined his mother and was there as the clerk opened the box for them.

"Wow," Jarrod said.

Victoria chuckled. "Pick it up. Tell me how it feels."

Jarrod took the beautiful bone-handled revolver out of its case and immediately checked to see it wasn't loaded. Then he felt it in his hand, felt the weight and the balance. It was a movement that was part second nature, part learned as Dakota bought his first handgun, the one Jarrod still carried. But this handgun – this was a much more finely-tuned instrument than that plain, wood-handled gun.

"You're not planning to carry this around, are you?" Jarrod asked.

Victoria laughed. "No, this is not for me. Nick has a birthday coming up. I ordered this a couple weeks ago."

"A company in San Francisco makes these," the clerk said. "They make beautiful handguns, nothing else. I don't get too many orders for the bone handle, though. What do you think?"

"It feels very comfortable in the hand," Jarrod said. "Kind of surprising, given that it's bone. Forty-five caliber?"

"Yes. What's that you're carrying?"

Jarrod put the bone-handled gun back in the box and took his own gun out of its holster. Quickly, he unloaded it and handed it to the clerk. "Nothing special. Cheapest thing I could find – I didn't have a lot of money at the time."

The clerk smiled. "I've heard you had quite a story to tell over the past year," the clerk said, felt Jarrod's gun in his hand, and then gave it back.

Jarrod reloaded his gun and put it back in its holster. "I've had a bit of a different life, that's for sure."

"Well, it's good to have you home again, Mr. Barkley. If you want to buy a better gun, make sure you come see me."

"I'll put it on my list of things to do," Jarrod said.

Jarrod nosed around the store some more as Victoria paid for the handgun and the clerk wrapped it in brown paper. "Thanks for going along with keeping this on the QT," she said quietly to the clerk.

"My pleasure," he said, just as quietly and nodded toward Jarrod, who was looking at a rain poncho.

Victoria noticed that Jarrod had become far more utilitarian over the last year. Even when they were buying clothes for him when he first came home, he was far more interested in the practical aspects of a wardrobe – how heavy-duty the cloth was for the price and so forth - than he was about the appearance of what he would wear. Now he was looking at a rain poncho, of all things, and he was looking at one that was not the best, but also not the worst fabric in the stack.

"I think I need one of these," Jarrod said. "How much?"

The clerk gave him the price.

Jarrod shrugged and looked at a cheaper one.

"Jarrod," Victoria said, "you can afford the better one."

Jarrod looked surprised, and then he remembered how much money was in his personal account. "I forgot," he said with a laugh, kind of glad he had forgotten, and then he brought the first poncho over to the clerk. "Wrap it up."

"Shall I start a running tab for you, Mr. Barkley? You can charge things and I'll bill you once a month."

Jarrod nodded. "I suppose so. If I'm going to reinvent Jarrod Barkley, I better put some of the original in there, too."