I do NOT own The Big Valley nor any of the original Big Valley characters. Thanks to my Beat Reader, though all mistakes are my own.

End of the Rainbow

Chapter Twenty-Three

"Hey, good looking!" Patrick saw himself standing in a field watching Cat running towards him her arms stretched out. Before he could move, she was in his arms; he kissed her as if his life depended on it.

"He says my name is Nick." He smiled as he as pulled back just a little, though he kept a hold of his wife.

"I know," she answered as she gave him a smile and laughed, and then grew serious. "It be okay to let the name I gave you go. I know the kind of man you be, name makes no difference to me. And, dear," she ran her fingers down the side of his face, "it be okay to remember. You be not losin' me if you be rememberin' 'em. If you be not rememberin' on your own, 'tis okay to ask questions. You know," her eyes started twinkling, "you can always be talkin' to Pappy."

"Huh?" Patrick was startled to realize he knew the term, should know who it was, but he didn't. Before he could say anything though, he saw her slipping out of his arms. "Cat!"

"I'll be 'round as long as you be needin' me. Talk to Pappy!" Cat started fading from view.

"Cat!" Patrick sat straight up, perspiration rolling off his forehead and down his face. He looked around and wiped the perspiration off his face, taking a few minutes to remember where he was and why. He let out a slow breath and swung his legs off of the bed. Throwing his pants and shirt on, he slipped out of the bedroom and walked slowly down the hall.

He told himself he had no right to be wandering around the Barkleys' home in the middle of the night, but he couldn't stop himself. It was as if someone was pushing him to take the tour. He looked at everything from wall decorations to the carpet beneath his feet. "…orders…McCall…" "Going on nine years." His words, and Jarrod's, rang in his ears only to be followed by Cat's voice. "…more than that."

Patrick, who had his mind so much on the words ringing in his ears, about dropped when he turned a corner and practically bumped into Jarrod. "I'm sorry," he hurried to explain, sure the man was going to be furious at the fact that he was taking such liberties, "I couldn't sleep…"

Jarrod smiled and held up his hand. "Glad it wasn't an intruder I heard. As far as not being able to sleep goes, I've been there."

Patrick remembered what Heath had said down at the docks. He shook his head. "Heath told me about it. I don't know how you kept yourself from killing the man."

Jarrod stiffened and then relaxed. "If it weren't for my brothers, I would have." He knew Patrick would assume he meant Heath and Eugene, but he figured he could clarify that one later. "I know it's past midnight, but how about a game of pool?" He remembered many nights playing pool with Nick; it was one way to get his ornery brother to open up. Maybe, it just might work again.

Pool? In the middle of the night? Patrick might have refused, but it sounded like a good way to relax, and he needed to relax. Once they were by the table and playing, Patrick found himself feeling quite at home. As Patrick hit the ball in front of him, he said, "If I'm not careful, I'm sure McCall will want to do that to my head."

Jarrod's eyebrows rose. "Why is that?" he asked and hid his grin. He didn't want his brother to know he'd already heard about 'it'.

Patrick thought on the incident from earlier that day as he relayed the incident. 'What do you think you're doing being that careless?" Patrick had practically gotten into the face of one of the new hands and started bellowing when the man had inadvertently left a gate open and a few horses had almost gotten loose, along with not watching what he was doing thus knocking over a whole bushel full of peaches. "The Barkleys promised those horses to Mr. Simms and those peaches are worth more than…' "I never finished my sentence as McCall and Heath intervened. I don't know what got into me," he said as he waited for Jarrod to take his turn, "it's not like I give the orders around here anymore."

"Maybe, you should." Jarrod looked up at his brother and caught a quick glimpse of a man who, deep down inside, knew he'd had every right to be upset.

A part of Patrick bristled at the thought; another part was chomping at the bits to be in charge. "It's McCall's and Heath's place…" he started to object, only to find Jarrod interrupting, and shocking him by repeating, basically, Cat's words.

"It's not McCall's place to work side by side with Heath." Jarrod had, to a degree, 'had it' and partially went against his mother's wishes. "It's yours; that spot was made for you." He looked at Patrick, "Please, take over running the ranch. McCall won't hold it against you, I promise."

Patrick took his turn at the table and watched in delight as he put another ball into a pocket. He set the pool cue on the now empty table and walked to the window. Jarrod leaned against the desk and waited for his brother to speak. When he did, his voice was low as he remembered both his talk with Heath on the docks, along with the dream he'd just had. "I asked Heath who Nick was; he said it was my name."

Jarrod nodded and answered back just as quietly, "It is."

Again, thinking about his dream, he asked, "Who's Pappy?" He was confused as he knew he should know the term but, from the way the family talked, Mrs. Barkley's husband was dead.

Jarrod caught his breath and his eyes widened just a little. That was one question he hadn't seen coming. "Me," he answered slowly, "it's what the family has called me since our father was killed; it stuck."

Patrick looked at him in astonishment. In his dream, he'd recognized the term, but hadn't really thought it was connected to the Barkleys. Up to this point, he figured he was just an employee getting used to being on the ranch again. Now, for the first time, he began questioning that notion.