Man of Justice

I do not own The Big Valley or any of the original Barkleys.

Chapter Thirteen

The moon sent down its light. The millions of tiny diamond like stars wrapped itself around a very frightened young lad. Jarrod would have tried to run away as he was not tied up, but two things stopped him. One, there were eight Modoc men surrounding him. Actually, six were lying down asleep, but two were awake. One was keeping an eye on him; the other kept an eye out for anyone who might follow them. The second was simple enough too; he had no clue to where they were or how to bet back to where he'd been. His captors had pushed their horses all day and gone across flat land, up and down hills and in every direction possible…and then some.

Now, Jarrod lay on top of a hill, under a blanket with only his arm as a pillow. His mind raced as fast as any train he'd ever seen body of water run down a river. He had gone out gathering wood for the Widow Miller when he heard the war cries of the Modoc men. He'd dropped the wood and ran, yelling as to warn the rest of the wagon train. Seeing Jarrod running, and hearing his warning, the men had grabbed their guns, the women and children had hid in the wagons, but Jarrod had never made it back to the camp. One minute he was running towards the Miller's wagon, and the next a Modoc brave had appeared from behind, leaned down from his horse, grabbed Jarrod around his waist and hauled him up on his horse. Two other Modoc braves, one on each side, suddenly arrived as they rode away from the wagon train, while the other Modoc did what they wanted to.

Since it had been just prior to breakfast when Jarrod had found himself taken by the Modoc men, he'd thought they'd stop and rest around noon, but no, the small group had stopped only long enough to take care of any personal business and to get dried meat out of the pouches they carried with them. They handed Jarrod some after they mounted their horses and started on their journey again.

"You should have fought them!" Jarrod chastised himself continually over the miles they must have covered in the past two days. He had to remind himself there were three of them and the one holding him had a pretty strong grip around his waist so a fight would have been useless. "What do you want from me?" he asked silently to himself as his mind turned back to Nick and his dreams. "How was I supposed to know the dreams were an actual warning?" He looked up at the sky and wondered if he'd ever see his father, mother, brother or sister again. He told himself he was too old but Jarrod found tears escaping and falling down the side of his cheeks. Jarrod had the Modoc men who took him with him… and he was all alone.

0000

Heath would have preferred to continue to stay where he was standing listening to Jarrod and Victoria tell the story, as would Nick, only McCall had slipped in the same entrance way they had used to enter the house and found them. They were needed outside. "You know, Heath," Nick looked at Heath as they finished fixing the mess one of the former ranch hands had made, "You can always go back in there," He nodded towards the house, "I don't have to tell you the story; after all it's second hand information."

Heath threw Nick a lopsided grin and shook his head, "Naw, you can pick the story back up. You might be a lot of things," Heath told him, "but you've got a heart of gold. I trust you to repeat only what you either know to be fact or to repeat what Jarrod's told you over the years without embellishing any of it. You're more than trustworthy, even with your interestin' habits." He gave Nick a wink and chuckled; his way of telling him he didn't think McCall's influence on him had been all that bad of a thing. Nick grinned and did as Heath had suggested, pick up the story from where they'd had to walk away from it.

Victoria stood in the front yard with the telegram that McCall had brought from town in her hands. The tears she'd cried when she'd read it had watered the ground below her feet. Their foreman had said nothing; what could he say. Straightening her shoulders, she looked at McCall. "Does Nick know?" She only asked because Nick, needing his mind taken off the fact that his father had gone after Jarrod, had gone into town with their foreman.

"No, Mrs. Barkly," McCall shifted his weight as he put a hand on his hip and the other one on the back of his neck, "After all, Mr. Kenyon gave it to me while the boy was talkin' with one of his friends. I thought you should see it first." Well, that and he didn't think it right that Tom's wife hear the news from what he was sure would be a hysterical ten year old boy.

Victoria looked at the telegram once more. WAGON TRAIN ATTACKED. FEW SURVIVORS. MODOC HAVE JARROD. JIM AND I SEARCHING. SENDING OTHER MEN HOME. TOM.

When she heard Nick's footsteps running towards them, Victoria slid the telegram into her skirt pocket. She knew her son needed to be told about his brother. The moment Nick was by her side, Victoria told McCall he could go back to work while she and Nick went inside.

The moment Victoria spoke to their foreman, Nick looked up at his mother. "Can't I just keep helping, McCall?"

Victoria gave her son 'the eye', since when did her children refer to adults merely by their last name. As if he could read her mind, Nick quickly defended himself and pointed to McCall. "He said to just call him McCall."

McCall shrugged his shoulders, "I've had folks callin' me McCall for as long as I can remember."

Victoria nodded, "All right, McCall it is, but no, Nick, you come in the house with me. Though," she said as she threw a glance McCall's way, "I will assume you will be nearby."

McCall smiled as he turned away, "Yes, Mrs. Barkley. I will be around." "I'll always be around for that boy." That last thought was spoken only to himself.

Victoria turned around and, with Nick following, went back inside the house. The moment his mother sat down and looked at him, Nick knew something was wrong. His mother never had a look in her eyes that yelled trouble. Afraid he'd done something wrong, Nick began going over the day's events…to see what it might be. Knowing full well what her son might be thinking, Victoria patted the seat beside her. "You have done nothing wrong, Nicolas, but I need to talk to you."

Nick stiffened as he heard his mother call him Nicolas; she never did that unless there was trouble, and if he hadn't done anything. If he hadn't done anything…his eyes began to widen as he thought on his father and Jarrod. "It's father and Jarrod! Isn't it? Something's wrong!" He stood up and bellowed without thinking.

Victoria, whose nerves were already on edge, did her best not to yell. "Nicolas Jonathon Barkley, you will not raise your voice in this house or to me!"

"Yes, mother." Nick knew better than to say anything else.

Victoria took a deep breath as she repeated her request and waited for Nick to oblige. Once he was seated, she continued.

"Your brother is missing." she didn't dare tell Nick that the Modoc had taken Jarrod quite yet. She hoped it would not be necessary. "Jim and your father are looking for him." She went on to explain it might be awhile before the two men came back.

Nick jumped to his feet. Hearing the news made him forget what his mother had just scolded him about. He bellowed again, "I knew this would happen! I just knew it!" Before she could stop him, Nick ran to the front door, opened it up and slammed it shut on his way out.