Chapter Five

Heath woke to light streaming into his hotel suite window; his overindulged evening of alcohol throbbed through his head. He rolled slightly and came face to face with the large green eyes of Rosemary staring at him.

"I am not 'llowed to wake you up, Mam and Eugenie says. Just wait til you wake up. You up?"

It was hard for Heath to be grumpy at his niece and he gave her his lop-sided grin, "Yep I am, Rosie-Roo. Let me get dressed and I will be out in a minute."

"Yay," She clapped then immediately put her hand across her mouth, "Pappy is still asleep too."

Heath chuckled as he looked at his pocket watch, "It's fifteen after eight. Missed three hours of work already."

"No Unca Heath. We don't have to work today. Just be quiet, I think."

He laughed again, "Get on outta here, girl. I will be out in a while and we can go do something."

She giggled and ran out of the door giggling as she slammed it.

"Quiet, huh?" as he shook his head. He got out of bed in his Union suit and walked over to wash his face and put on his pants. He put on his shirt and vest. He went for his watch fob and the coins on the nightstand with his wallet. He stopped at the dresser and put the two bills in his vest pocket, "Hmmmm, thought there were three."

He looked under the bureau and around the room, "Well, dang, guess I spent it or more than likely lost it."

—&—-

Eugenie and Rosemary were dispatched to find the laundry after breakfast while Heath headed back to the jail. The maid carried a cloth bag of all their traveling clothes stiff from sweat and Jarrod's blood.

"After we all finish up, I will meet you two at the cafe bench; you and I will go for a ride—-something special," he promised the little girl.

She held up her pinkie and he joined his with hers, "Pinkie promise."

"Thank you all, " a tired Tessa told them as they left, "I am going to nap, too. It was a long night and Jarrod is still asleep."

Heath kissed his sister-in-law on the cheek, "Take care of yourself, please. Don't worry about Rosie. Uncle Heath will keep her entertained today."

—-&—

Heath sauntered over to the jail; the sheriff was expecting him.

"Our friend is awake. Asking for a lawyer. Wants to press charges against your brother."

"Don't make no sense. Can I see him?"

"Yes. I told him you'd be back. Said had no problem talking to you."

Heath and the sheriff walked back to the cell. He handed him his sidearm as he reached his area.

"Hey! Mr. Barkley wants to talk."

The sharply dressed dandy looked unkempt after a night in the cell. He still smelled of smoke and cheap whiskey. He stood up from the bunk and smoothed his trousers as he walked over."

"Yell, when you are ready to leave."

"Will do. Thanks, sheriff."

The two men eyed each other and made assumptions quickly about the other.

"Barkley? Stockton Barkley's?"

Heath nodded.

"How come your name ain't the same as your brother."

Heath cocked his head, "It is."

The man guffawed, "Don't believe it. You have to be running a scam with him. Stockton Barkleys are rich folk. They have no dealings with cheats and liars."

Heath swallowed and changed his tact, "Let's start over. What is your name? And what did my brother do to you?"

"Bill Johnson. William R Johnson, most recently of Denver. Of the Savannah Russells and Johnson's."

"Heath Barkley, most recently of Stockton. Of the Strawberry mines, Barkley's and Thomson's." He said in mocking sarcasm.

The man looked him over, "You don't look like a man that runs with Darby, how did he hook you?"

Heath burst out laughing, "Boy Howdy. Now it makes sense. My brother, Jarrod Barkley is a dead ringer for Jack. He's almost a real Barkley. Mother has probably put him in the will."

"Sir, I don't think you are funny. You are running a con. Takes one to know one. How did you know his name was Jack? I didn't mention it,"

"Because I know him. When my brother heals up, you will see. Jarrod is 'bout ten years older and a bit heavier than his lookalike. Has caused lots of uproars before."

Bill shook his head, "This is a lie. I would know Jack Darby anywhere. Hit him between the eyes yesterday at the hotel."

Heath just shook his head, "You will see. Can't win a puking contest with a buzzard."

"Hmpf."

"Anyhows, what did Jack do to you?"

"Ran off with my wife. Dorothy. They left with every penny I had. I spent 30 days in jail for indigence."

"Are you sure it was Jack who took your money?"

"Had to be. She was my wife. She wouldn't steal from her own husband. He flummoxed her or something."

"Well, I have met Dorothy and I didn't take her for someone with blinders on."

"Where did you see my wife?"

"Modesto but she is long gone. Took a payoff and took a train outta town."

"How do you know that?" the man said, a little defeated.

"Me and my brother delivered it to her. Not Jarrod. Another brother. She was promised money to shake up a political campaign. She did that all right. She had a vendetta against Jack."

The man sat down on the bunk, "That woman vexed me. So she went with Darby of her own free will?"

"Can't say for sure. I wasn't there. But the Dorothy I met, 'weren't no fainting violet, uh shrinking—-she had a mind of her own."

"Yes, she does."

Heath watched the man slump his shoulders and run his hands through his hair.

"How is your brother?"

"He will heal. Knowing him, he will want to talk to you. He's a lawyer and all. He gotta figure out the truth even if it kills him—-or blacks his eye."

"Well, tell him I am sorry."

"Will do. My brother is the kind of man who will accept it too."

Bill nodded.

"Ya ever had a woman get in yore head? Like you know it shoulda ended one way and it didn't. And it was your fault—"

Heath tipped his hat, "That I do—-will be talking to ya again and I will head over to talk to Jarrod. He will want to know about our little talk."

Bill nodded and turned his head to the wall. Heath called for the sheriff and headed out.

—-&—

Jarrod and Tessa were still asleep when he checked in on them. He backed out and went toward the cafe to keep his promise to Rosemary.

They were waiting on the bench. Rosemary was swinging her legs back and forth while Eugenie read the newspaper.

"Rosie Roo, ya ready? Eugenie, they are still asleep at the hotel. When they wake up, tell them we will be back by nap time."

Rosemary frowned at the mention of a nap.

Heath ruffled her curls, "For me too, little missy. Summer naps are the best way to beat the heat."

"Oh," she said, trying to decide if Uncle Heath was teasing her.

"I will, Mr. Heath. See you later, Rosemary. Mind your manners."

"Yes ma'am."

"Well little missy, what would you like to do in St John, Arizona?"

"Can we get sass'pariller? Candy? Ride a horsey? Take a walk? Find some flowers for Mam."

"That's a busy morning. Let's see what we can find."

They walked to the mercantile, bought a new book about ponies, and walked through the livery looking at the horses.

She petted some Spanish ponies stabled there by breeders passing through. Heath thought about the list of horses he and Nick talked about: ponies for James and Mary, breeding stallions for their corral, mare for Nellie—-and of course the elusive Isabella breeding line he had chased over the past few years.

They passed by a bakery and ordered some sweets to be taken to the hotel. Rosemary asked for chocolate cake so Heath added it to the order. They ate sandwiches at a little cafe and drank fresh lemonade.

Heath took a wrong turn out of the cafe busy listening to Rosemary's latest story.

"Look Unca Heath. Here's flowers for Mam."

He looked up at the picket fence covered with white climbing roses. His heart stopped. The gray frame house, the dirt street—-the orange dress, her slim arm on his. The gun battle played out in his head. He walked to the spot in the street and bent down. Only dirt remained.

He knelt there for several minutes until a wagon broke his sad reverie.

He stood up and turned back quickly to see Rosemary at the picket fence smelling the roses. A plump lady in a bright red apron came out of the house and walked with a laundry basket on her hip.

Heath walked back to his niece.

"Can I help you?" the lady pleasantly asked.

Heath spoke up, "No, just knew the man who lived here a few years back."

"You knew the sheriff? Good man, he was—but lost his way. Over a saloon girl, I heard."

"She was an actress on her way home."

"Oh," the lady looked at him strangely.

Rosemary interrupted, "Can I have a flower for my mother at the hotel?"

"Of course honey, the more you cut away, the more they grow. It's called pruning." as she took scissors out of her pocket.

"Puning?"

"Pruning. See that dark spot? If I cut it away, the good will take over. When you cut away used-up parts, it helps the rose make more beautiful flowers. Anything that's bad can actually make a better flower."

She and Rosemary cut quite a few white roses and she wrapped them in a wet rag from her bin.

"Tank, you so much. Mam will love them. Unca Heath, look here."

"You are so welcome. Sir, you have a delightful niece."

"I think so too. Rosemary is special."

Heath thought all the way back to the hotel about cutting out the bad so the good will take over,