Man of Justice

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

Chapter Twenty-Five

It was almost noon when Tom, Jarrod and Jim rode into Chico. It seemed as if every eye in the small town was upon the three visitors. Tom was sure it was not only because they were strangers, but also because of his son's appearance. The whispers that could be heard up and down the street only cemented that fact into his head; it did the same for Jarrod and Jim. When they came to the café, Tom hesitated. Would the establishment serve them or would the owners ask them to leave. It was a concern he fast found out he would not have to worry about for the moment, as Jarrod refused to get off his horse when Tom and Jim dismounted theirs.

Jarrod remembered sitting around the table many times and eating with his family; he'd also not sat at a table and ate with "proper" utensils for close to fifteen months. Oh, he was sure he could pick up the tools and use them easily enough, yet he found himself unable to budge off his horse. As hungry as Tom was, he wasn't about to leave his son outside by himself. "You go grab a bit to eat, Jim. Grab us some sandwiches while you're at, please. We'll go and see if this small town has a boarding house, and then I'll take the horses to the livery stable." Tom remounted his horse, took the reins to Jim's horse, and started down the street with Jarrod following him.

He was relieved to see a two story home at the end of town with a sign that said "Williams' Boarding House". He dismounted his horse, tying it and Jim's horse to the nearby hitching post. "We need to get a room for the night, J…" Tom caught himself as he remembered both his promise and his vow, "…Man of Justice. Please, come with me."

Jarrod didn't want to go into the house anymore than he had the cafe, but he'd caught Tom's slip and heard him correct himself. His father had always been a man of honor; it seemed he still was. The least he could do was show him respect for that. He dismounted his horse, tied it to the same hitching post, meant only for the short term use of visitors, and followed Tom inside.

The Widow Williams was a tall, slender English woman who had little tolerance for a lot of things. Unfortunately, that included people who were not "the same" as she was. While the business side of her was insisting she serve both the older gentleman and the "heathen" next to him; the other side won. "His kind is not welcome here. He'll have to leave." She stiffened in revulsion as she looked upon Jarrod.

Tom's blood boiled. While he did not hit her with her fists, he let loose with his tongue. "First off, the Indians are just as good as the white man is, sometimes better and two, Man of Justice is my son! I just got him back! He stays with me!"

Jarrod didn't know if Tom, given the time, could make the woman see reason or not, nor did he intend to find out. Before his father could say anything and before the woman had time to react to Tom's words, Jarrod left the building. Tom cursed under his breath and went after his son. When he exited the house, Jarrod was standing by his horse talking to the animal… in Shoshone.

"Well, we slept out last night." Tom did his best to lighten the mood that the bigoted woman's words had created. "We can do it again. There's a river not far from here," He glanced towards the café, "suppose we ought to tell Jim we'll be down there." He smiled sadly, as he remounted his horse.

Jarrod stood, for a moment, looking from the boarding house to his father. He didn't know why, but he'd expected his father to get a room while he simply found someplace, maybe the stalls, to sleep. Yet, here the man was giving up what he would see as a comfortable bed to lie, yet again, to sleep upon the ground below his feet. Jarrod pulled himself up and onto the back of his horse and followed Tom down to the cafe, his concerns about returning to the white world growing due to the Widow Williams treatment of him.

When they reached the café, Jim was standing outside. He had a bag in his hands that held three sandwiches and some fruit. Repeating what he'd just said to his son, Tom handed Jim the reins to his horse. "I'm sure there's a nice camping spot."

Jim felt the same disgust Tom had. Because the waitress, one Mrs. O'Toole had told him about the boarding house, and the woman who ran it, he had feared this might happen; hence the reason for grabbing sandwiches for all of them. "Fine with me, I always preferred camping out to anything." Within seconds he was following Tom and Jarrod out of town and down to the creek. It didn't take long for them to find a spot to make camp once more.

Once they'd laid out their bedding, Tom handed out the sandwiches, insisted on blessing the food, adding a silent prayer of thanks and then began eating. Having accepted Jarrod, for now, could not answer any questions for him, Tom decided it might be a better idea to do the talking himself. After all, the more his oldest heard the language, the faster he'd be speaking it again…at least, that is what Tom hoped. "I wrote your mother and told her you were coming home. I'm sure she's told Nick by now and even Audra, though your sister is really too young to understand it all." Tom turned at looked at Jarrod; he wasn't surprised when he saw no emotion in the young man's eyes. He looked at Jim, who looked as helpless as Tom felt. "You have a new brother, name's Eugene. I think you're mother has given up on getting another girl." Tom smiled, then mused at the memory, when he'd jokingly suggested they try again, Victoria had kicked him out of the bedroom and locked the door. However, that part was something Tom saw no reason to disclose.

Jarrod wanted to say something, do something, anything to show his father he understood what he was saying, but his heart was still feeling empty and out of sorts. Jarrod was still very much conflicted in his emotions. He'd been put in a position where he had to choose between two homes and all of a sudden he found himself resenting it worse than ever. He stood up and headed for his blanket and then stopped. He might be feeling worse than confused, but he also knew the man Tom Barkley had to be just as frustrated as he was. Turning around slowly, Jarrod looked at Tom, really looked at him. It shook him to the core to see the same look of pain that was in the man's eyes that had resided in Straight Arrow's. He had promised his Shoshone father never to do that…be the cause of another man's pain if he could help it, yet he did not know what to do to help Tom's hurt. Digging hard to find the word he wanted, the one word he hoped would convey how what he was feeling, Jarrod finally pulled up the only one he could get to come up with. "S…or…ry," Jarrod turned back around and went to lie down. It might be noon, but he was tired.

Tom and Jim looked at each other shocked to hear the first English word out of Jarrod's mouth be an apology. Tom swore more than ever he would be patience with the boy and, someday, make sure he understood he had nothing to be sorry for.