Chapter 4
Now that Heath was leaving, Victoria wasn't so sure about this quest of his to find his wayward brothers. When it was all theoretical, yes, she wanted to know what had happened to them. But now that Heath was packing up, ready to go back into town to catch the late train to Sacramento and then Placerville, she wasn't so sure.
"Will you wire me when you get to Placerville?" she asked him as he finished putting his things into his saddlebags.
"Yes, I will," Heath said. "No matter what I find." He got a look at the expression on her face, and he smiled and kissed her. "Don't go worrying about me. According to the sheriff, Nick doesn't get out of jail for a few more days."
Victoria chuckled, just a little. "I suspect you could hold your own in a battle with anyone, even Nick."
"Then what's worrying you?"
"The truth. The truth is worrying me."
"Do you want me to forget about going?"
She shook her head. "Not if you don't want to forget about it."
"I don't," Heath said. "Somehow, I don't think me finding my family is the only reason the Good Lord led me here, Mother. I think you've been saying a few prayers over the years, and now's the time to get them answered."
Victoria said, hesitantly, "If they want to come for a visit – maybe just a visit, maybe."
Heath smiled. "I won't even suggest a visit unless I think we can trust them, and taking them back for good is your decision, not mine."
Victoria smiled genuinely now and kissed his cheek. "Wire me no matter what you find."
Heath nodded. "I will."
XXXXX
It was the next morning when the train rolled into Placerville and Heath got off. He had been here before but it had been a long time ago and he couldn't remember where the jail was, but he found it without too much trouble. When he went inside, he found the sheriff sweeping the floor. Heath remembered seeing the man once before, though not really meeting him.
"Sheriff," he said in greeting, and the sheriff stopped sweeping. "My name is Heath Barkley. I think you have my brother in your jail."
The sheriff took an exasperated deep breath. "For three more days. You want to see him?"
Now that he was being asked, Heath felt a little shiver of uncertainty run down his back, but of course, he did want to meet the man in the sheriff's jail. He nodded.
The sheriff reached for Heath's gun and walked to the cellblock door. "Come on."
Heath gave up his gun, took a breath and went into the cellblock.
The dark-haired man in the cell was the only inmate. He was lying on the cot, one arm over his eyes. He had a scruffy beard, probably because he hadn't shaved since he'd been arrested. Nor had he been washing up very much – he smelled bad. Heath got his first lesson in what these older Barkley brothers had become. This Nick Barkley was nothing like the fine family in Stockton.
The sheriff kicked the cot through the bars, and Nick lifted his arm and looked up. "You got a visitor," the sheriff said and went out, leaving the cellblock door open.
Nick looked Heath over but did not get up. He just said, "Who are you?"
"My name is Heath Barkley," Heath said, pausing just a hair before he said "Barkley."
Nick sat up, looking more closely, more curiously. "Barkley? You kin of mine or something?"
Heath said, "I'm your half-brother."
A smile slowly spread across Nick's face as he understood. "Well, well," he said and stood up. He looked Heath up and down and said, "The old stud's wandering ways finally came home to roost, did they? I knew the old man had a bastard or two running around."
Heath let the "bastard" remark go by. "I live with your family in Stockton now."
"You do?" Nick laughed. "Well, you're one up on me. What do you want?"
"Just to talk."
"You've got a captive audience," Nick said and wandered to the window that overlooked the alley, seemingly ignoring this new relative of his.
Heath said, "Mother is fine, in case you're interested."
Nick looked over, grinning. "'Mother,' is it? You have moved in. How's the old man?"
"Dead," Heath said. "Six years ago in a fight with the railroad."
Nick actually looked sad for a moment. "At least he went the way he'd have wanted to go. How about the two little ones?"
"Not so little. Eugene runs the ranch. Audra helps Mother run everything else and she works with the orphanage in Stockton, too."
Nick nodded, looking even more wistful as he stared out into the alley. "They always were ambitious little ragamuffins. Do you hear anything from Jarrod?"
"Not a word. Mother says she hasn't heard from him since he left ten years ago. Do you know anything about him?"
Nick took a big breath. "Only that he was in San Francisco using another name a few years ago. Big Brother and I aren't on speaking terms, either."
"What the hell happened, Nick?" Heath found himself saying without even wanting or expecting to.
Nick glared at him. "That's none of your business."
Heath had to go with it now that he'd started with it. "Maybe it is. Mother isn't getting any younger. She's well, but she misses you."
Nick blurted out an unbelieving laugh. "Sure she does."
"She's a fine woman, Nick. Strong, sensible – she's taken me in like one of her own, and I suspect it's because you and Jarrod aren't around anymore."
"Well, then, enjoy yourself being the son she wished she had," Nick said and came closer to the bars again.
"What happened, Nick?" Heath asked again, into his face when Nick got to the bars.
Nick repeated, "That's none of your business."
"Make it my business," Heath said, more forcefully this time.
Nick raised eyebrows. "How the hell do I know you're even who you say you are, and why should I talk to you about anything? Get out."
Nick turned away, and Heath just said, "No."
Nick turned and looked back at him.
"I've been looking for my father and his people my whole life," Heath said. "I found them. They're good, and they're kind, and they welcomed me more than I ever deserved. I intend to give Mother what she wants most in this world – news about the sons she lost years ago. If by some miracle I can even bring them to her for a while, I will."
"Well, that will take a miracle, boy," Nick said.
Heath said, "You're in here for three more days. We're gonna talk some more. What name was Jarrod using the last you heard of him?"
Nick thought about it, and suddenly he looked interested. Heath suspected that Nick realized that this Heath might leave him alone if he had Jarrod to go after. Nick said, "I'm not sure I remember. Jim something. Brooks, Brooker, something like that. But you might have more luck if you describe him. Man had real black hair and real blue eyes. All the girls fawned over those blue eyes of his."
"What was he doing in San Francisco, do you know?"
"Some muckity-muck businessman, he was," Nick said. "Made something of himself by climbing all over everybody he could, probably, but I lost track of him. He got himself into something and disappeared again. I don't what name he might be using now. You'll have to go to San Francisco and find out."
Heath knew Nick was trying to get rid of him. He said, "I'll do that, but I'll be back before you get out of here. You and I are gonna talk some more, a lot more."
Nick glared at him again, but there was something different in his eyes now, some kind of respect. "You are one persistent character, you know that? Damn well must be a son of Tom Barkley."
Heath said, "I am," and he left.
Heath went straight to the telegraph office and sent a wire to Victoria. Talked to N. Going to SF to find J. Wire again later. Heath