Chapter Eight

Jeremiah and La'akea, who had left Stockton and headed to the ranch, had taken a wrong turn and were surprised to find themselves in a wooded area with a lone grave. After climbing out of their small buggy, the couple had walked over to the headstone. Now they found themselves looking at the information engraved on the stone: THOMAS BARKLEY 1813-1870.

"A strange place to bury someone," La'akea turned her face to her husband and, thinking on all the information in the obituary, "You think they did it because it's where he was killed?"

"Probably," Jeremiah answered as he surprised his wife by pulling Tom's obituary out from his vest pocket. Unfolding the paper, he read word for word the story that was told. When he got to the part that talked about Tom's relations…he stopped.

La'akea gently took the paper and read out loud 'Tom Barkley was preceded in death by his parents, two sisters and a brother. He and Victoria lost their first home and their oldest son over thirty years ago. To this day, the reason for the boy's disappearance is unknown, though it's most likely due to the Indians that were credited with burning their first home. Tom Barkley is survived by his wife, Victoria Miller Barkley; his sons, Nicolas Jonathon Barkley and Eugene Barkley, along with a daughter Audra Maria Barkley. A brother, James Barkley, lives in Abbottsville, Nevada. A sister-in-law, Clara Miller Brennan, lives in Denver, Colorado.' She handed the paper back to her husband. "Are you going to show them this after all, along with the letter your aunt gave you?" She asked the question hoping her husband had not burned the letter as he'd threatened to do the night before-though, due to the various things he'd pointed out about the handwriting which were not right-she wondered if he had come to the definite conclusion the letter had indeed been forged and destroyed it.

Jeremiah folded the paper back up and slid it back into his vest pocket. "No, not even sure why I brought this thing along, should have gotten rid of it as well." He turned his attention to the headstone again, leaving La'akea with the answer to her unspoken question. After a minute of simply listening to the birds and feeling the gentle breeze blowing in the air, Jeremiah continued. "The mail we picked up in Stockton? The report from the Pinkerton Agency was among the mail, the one I asked them to get to me once I learned what my 'father' had done." When his wife looked at him as if to ask 'how did they know to send it here-as you hired them before we knew we were coming here', Jeremiah smiled, "I wired them and told them to send their findings concerning what was in the letter, along with anything they could tell me about the Barkleys, here the moment I knew we knew were coming to Stockton." He went on to say that that he had read it while she was getting a few items in the general store. He wasn't surprised when his wife looked at him as to say 'And?'. "Eighty percent of what was in the letter was a lie; only twenty percent was backed up by what Father wrote in his journal. Which means there's a ninety-nine percent chance I was right when I say my 'dear' aunt probably found out the truth and, for whatever reasons she had, actually wrote the letter and forged the signature as well. That or she had someone else do it." He took a deep breath and then added, "They say there is another brother, half-brother who joined the family last year."

If his aunt hadn't up and died shortly after giving Jeremiah the letter, La'akea would have wished she could have a few choice words with the woman and demanded some answers. As it was, she had heard the tone in her husband's voice-a tone she knew well. There was something more that he wasn't saying. "And?"

"He has blonde hair, blue eyes, name is Heath Thomson; he served in the war and spent the last seven months in Carterson." He turned and looked at his wife. He wasn't surprised by the shock in her eyes.

"The young boy you carried out of that horrible prison is your half-brother?" La'akea couldn't believe it. "He might recognize you even with all that extra hair."

"Not likely," Jeremiah sighed. "He was practically unconscious when I got him out of there, surprised he could even tell me his name. Once I got him to the nearest union army, I never saw him again. Never forgot him, but never saw him either." He went on to ask if she remembered the student he'd stepped in and helped the year before, when the young man was thinking of dropping out of school.

"Yeah, I remember….his teachers said his name was Gene. Why?"

"Try, Eugene….it seems like he belongs to this family as well." Jeremiah shook his head. "Don't worry about him though. I overheard the sheriff telling the postmaster the young man is back in Boston, studying. Won't be back for a number of months."

La'akea shook her head. "Are you going to tell me you've at least crossed paths with every one of your siblings and never knew it?"

Jeremiah shook his head. "Not unless I've met the daughter and didn't realize it, name Audra Barkley doesn't sound at all familiar. Now, before we lose track of the reason we came here in the first place, I suggest we figure out where we took a wrong turn and stop worrying about a past we can't change."

La'akea might have made some sort of reply only she heard the sound of a horse; it made her uncomfortable, not knowing the area they were in or who might be coming. Jeremiah must have felt the same way, as his hand went to his pistol. He was surprised to see a blonde haired rider come into view.

"You don't need that. Do you?" Heath, who had simply been riding-thinking about everything that Nick had told the family, shot the strangers in front of him a lop sided grin.

"No, guess not," Jeremiah slid the pistol back into its holster and introduced himself. "This is my wife. We were trying to find the Barkley ranch and took a wrong turn. Nick Barkley offered me a job." The moment the words were out of his mouth, and he saw the stranger stiffen, Jeremiah just knew who had found them. He grew uneasy…as did La'akea, neither one of them liked how Jeremiah was going to have to act around Heath, especially now since they realized who he really was.

For his part, Heath relaxed and assured the couple they could too. "Nick told us everything, you don't have to worry about me or what I might do."

Jeremiah's let out a slow breath and still apologized. "I just wish I knew how to thank you."

"Get Barrett to talk," Heath said as he asked if they knew they were going the wrong way. When they admitted they'd gotten lost, Heath chuckled and, pointing behind them, gave them instructions to the main house. "I'll follow at a distance, to make sure you don't go in the wrong direction."

"Thank you," Jeremiah helped his wife back into their buggy and then climbed in himself. As he turned their buggy around, he threw a wistful looking over his shoulder. It wouldn't have bothered Heath, as he assumed it was because the gentleman was still feeling bad about the way he'd have to treat Heath once they arrived at the main house, only for a split second-in spite of what Jeremiah had said to La'ake- Heath wasn't looking at a bearded, long haired man trying to get proof for some case the government had against a former general. No, for a lightning fast moment, Heath saw Jeremiah's eyes on a twenty-one year old young man who had-along with others-saved his and his comrades from a living nightmare. 'What a small world!' Heath thought as he started his horse down the road. 'I'll definitely help you-even if it means having to put up with seeing you with Barrett.'