Jarrod didn't get home until after 8:00 that evening, by which time the family had all eaten. Victoria rose as soon as she heard the big door open and met him in the front foyer. He was tired and hungry and very dirty. She gave him a quick hug and then made a face at his trail dust on her gold gown. He laughed at her gently before becoming serious.

"How's our guest?"

"He's better I think, not a great deal better but the infection is draining and he's been sleeping all day." She wanted to tell him about the conversation with the boy when she had realized who he was, but she could see how tired Jarrod was.

"Go and wash. I'll warm some supper for you and have it in the kitchen."

"Thank you, lovely lady." She could see by the smile that didn't quite make it to his eyes that he had something he didn't want to tell her.

"Hurry, Jarrod."

As he headed up the stairs Audra and Nick called out a greeting from the sitting room, which he returned without looking in at them. At the top of the stairs, he hesitated outside the guest room door. He did want to wash, but after the long ride home thinking about fathers and brothers, he very much wanted to look at this new brother again, to see him as a brother.

He opened the door as quietly as he could, remained in the hall and just looked into the room. There was a lamp on the table at the head of the bed, turned low. Its uncertain light didn't extend far into the room. He couldn't see the boy's face, only his shape in the shadow of the headboard. Even so, he stood there for a minute, just looking at the shape in the bed and tried to understand what he felt.

At the beginning of the ride home, there had been anger, anger at this boy for disrupting their lives, anger at his father on his mother's behalf and then on his own behalf. Later he had felt a sorrow, for lost illusions of parental perfection he guessed. Sad that his father had slept with this unknown woman, sad that he had left her, apparently without a backward glance, to raise his son, and sorrow for the life she and the boy had endured. Near the end of his ride though, he had begun to feel anticipation about this boy. Now he found he felt a sort of excitement, an eagerness such as he felt before the cross-examination in an important case, a little anxiety about how the testimony would progress but primarily an excitement about the event to come. He was excited about this new brother, about the prospect of knowing this new member of their family, of watching this person become part of his family. He closed the door quietly, a small smile on his face. This was going to be all right, this was going to be just fine.

Mother was true to her word and had a warm plate of roast duck and potatoes for him when he got to the kitchen, along with a tall glass of whiskey. She put the plate before him and then sat down across from him at the kitchen table.

"You eat and I'll tell you my story." She smiled at him. "I know you're tired and we need to talk to Audra and Nick yet tonight."

He nodded, his mouth already full of food. God, yes, Nick.

"I spoke to the boy today. Oh, nothing specific. I went up to change his bandage. He'd been sleeping. I stood there looking at him and suddenly I just knew. I recognized your father in his face. I remembered what your father looked like when we married. I'm not saying he's some magical twin to your father, because he's not, but he certainly has the look of him." Her eyes shone.

Jarrod couldn't remember when he had last seen her so happy, perhaps the day of Audra's 17th birthday party two years ago this coming June. That had been such a great party, all had been well in the valley, no railroad problem even on the horizon. He remembered his father taking Audra out for the first dance, and his mother dancing with him, her face glowing with happiness. She had that look about her now and he thought he understood and shared at least some of it.

"He said he was going. That he was sorry he had come." She had tears in her eyes again and quickly wiped at them with her finger. "I told him I was glad he had come, and Jarrod, I am. I am so glad he came here." She was still amazed at her own feeling at the joy this boy had given her, where she would have expected to feel only heartache.

Jarrod said nothing but continued to eat his supper while he thought about what his mother had said and about the way he had felt on the way home.

Victoria smiled across the table at this eldest son. Nick and Audra had taken to calling him Pappy when he was a teenager, laughed at his serious ways. While Victoria loved all of her children, her eldest son was special to her and she so valued that seriousness, that gravity he had. They could talk in ways she could not with Nick and Audra, who were so volatile and dramatic. Jarrod's quiet, rational view of the world was more of a match for her own, while the impetuosity and drama of Nick and Audra were so like Tom.

Much as she had loved her husband sometimes, she had just enjoyed a quiet evening, sitting, talking with Jarrod, considering all sides of issues where the others would take such a partisan position on everything. She was especially thankful for his wisdom this night and knew she would be very glad of his support later dealing with Nick.

"I believe he is my brother," Jarrod said as he wiped his mouth with his napkin and set it beside his now empty plate. "I spoke to a friend of his mother and she named Father immediately. The boy's mother died last month, that's when he found out who his father was. His mother had never told him."

"Did your father know, about the child?" He had known that this would to be as hard for her as it had been for him. This betrayal of the child was perhaps even more severe than the betrayal of his mother.

"I don't know. Apparently there was no contact between them after he left. He never returned to Strawberry." He paused, but needed to tell her everything. "They were very poor."

His mother rose from the table, picked up his plate and silverware and walked away toward the sink with them. She put them down and then stood there with her back to him, her hands braced on the side of the counter. "How could he have just left them like that?"

"I'm sure he didn't know. The woman I spoke with, her name was Rachel Caulfield, indicated that the boy's mother would not have told Father, that she would not have sought any help from him, that she was very proud." Jarrod made all of the excuses for his father that he had made for him on the ride back from Strawberry. But all the excuses denied the main issue and he knew his mother was much too honest and wise to miss the hole in his defense.

"Yes, and why didn't he ask?" Jarrod could only nod. He had asked himself this question a hundred times in the last day and knew he would ask it many times more. Why indeed?

"So, what do we do now?" Jarrod asked. His mother turned and faced him, her arms crossed in front, her hands holding tightly to her arms.

"He's a Barkley. He has as much of a right to what that means as any of you."

He smiled at his mother; she made him so proud.

"First we need to speak to Nick and Audra and then…"

"I hear someone talking about me. What's going on in here?" Nick came into the kitchen and immediately the room seemed much smaller.