Chapter 8

Over dinner and on the train to Placerville the next day, Heath and Jarrod talked endlessly. Heath was rather amazed at how easily Jarrod seemed to be opening up. It certainly wasn't what he expected out the man Victoria had described. It was clear the drugs had destroyed the young Jarrod thoroughly, but the older Jarrod had managed to create a new man after the drugs. Heath found his admiration for his oldest brother growing – but with it the urge to take him home to Victoria. She needed to see that he was not lost forever, even if he could never come back into the family.

Which he was still resisting. "No, Heath, I don't think so," he said after they had left the train at Placerville and were walking to the jail. "There's just too much water that's gone under the bridge. I don't think we can fix things."

"That's not what I'm asking, Jarrod," Heath said. "I just want Mother to see that you're not lost anymore and that you've become the man she wanted you to be."

Jarrod raised an eyebrow. "You know, Heath – once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic. And once a drug addict, always a drug addict. Every day is the day I could fall off the edge again."

"Somehow I don't think you will," Heath said.

"But neither one of us knows for sure, do we? I wouldn't want to let her see a cured son when he doesn't really exist. If I fell again, it would be harder on her than if she had never seen me at all."

They paused at the door to the sheriff's office. Heath held onto the knob but didn't turn it. "No, Jarrod, you're wrong. What would be harder on her is thinking that shame is keeping you from going to her now that you've gotten yourself back together again."

Jarrod's gaze lowered. Heath could tell he was thinking seriously about that.

"What if Nick wants to go home and see her? Would you be willing to go with him?" Heath asked.

Jarrod laughed. "If Nick is willing to go, I might fall over dead from a heart attack."

"Would you be willing to go with him?" Heath repeated.

Jarrod hesitated and finally said, "Let's see what he has to say. And let's see what I have to say, because right now, I'm not really sure what's going to come out of my mouth."

Heath knew something he said was getting to his older brother. He smiled. He opened the door, and they went in.

The sheriff was posting wanted posters on his wall. He looked over when he heard them come in – and he looked amazed to see that Heath had somebody else with him. He had heard Heath and Nick talking about another brother – was this him? "We want to see Nick," Heath said.

The sheriff nodded toward the cellblock door. "It's open."

Heath gave up his gun, and he and Jarrod went in. They found Nick pretty much the same as Heath had found him a couple days earlier – lying on the bunk, hair and beard scruffy, smelling like he should have had a bath a month ago. He didn't budge when they came in.

"Good God," Jarrod said at the sight of him.

Nick looked up, and then got up. He came to the bars, eyeing his older brother carefully. An amused look came over his face. "Well, I never thought I'd see you again," he said. "My big brother Jarrod. My big long-lost brother Jarrod. Where the hell have you been?"

"San Francisco and Sacramento," Jarrod said. "Heath told me where you've been. How many incarcerations does this make?"

Nick looked at Heath. "'Incarcerations.' Brother Jarrod hasn't lost his flair for words. Well, I gotta hand it to you, Heath. You got him here. Now what?"

Jarrod said, "You know, this new brother of ours has his own way with words. He's talked me into some things that until this very moment, I didn't think I could ever be talked into."

Heath smiled. Jarrod was really considering going home with him. He'd really gotten through to his oldest brother. Now, what about the middle man?

"It might be a good idea if you and I caught up on things," Jarrod said to Nick.

"You said you already know where I've been. Jail!"

"I'm amazed you're not in San Quentin."

"I'm amazed you're not dead."

Heath backed up a little bit. "I think I'm gonna leave you two to hammer out some things alone. Jarrod, I'll be at the café across the street. Just come on over when you're through."

Heath turned and walked out, closing the cellblock door behind him. Nick went back to his cot and lay down on it again. "Talk away, big brother. Tell me what you've been up to all these years."

There was a stool nearby that Jarrod pulled up. He sat down on it and rested his feet up against the bars of the cell where Nick lay. He pushed his hat back, saying, "Mostly running a freight business. And beating a drug and alcohol habit."

Nick quickly sat up, looking at Jarrod squarely, but it was a moment or two before he said, "Well, I figured it had to be something like that. I just never thought I'd hear you admit it."

"What's your excuse?" Jarrod asked.

Nick shrugged. "No excuse. I'm just a bad egg."

"Nick, you always were hot headed, but not the kind to go from one assault charge to another for years," Jarrod said. "I've confessed my nasty habits. Why don't you confess yours?"

"To an alcoholic and a drug addict? Why would I do that?"

"Maybe because I'm the one who'll listen," Jarrod said.

Nick laughed, an ugly laugh that wasn't funny. "I've gotten along fine without you for years, Jarrod. I don't need you now."

"This is 'fine'?" Jarrod asked, letting his gaze wander over the jail cell. "You know how long it took me to get a grip on my addictions, Nick?"

"I don't know, and I don't care," Nick said and lay back down.

"Until three years ago, I used laudanum or opium every chance I got and I drank whenever I pleased and however much I pleased. Then I got a doctor who helped me ease off those poisons without getting as murderous as every other time I tried to get along without them. Took me two years to stop using, and I still live with the withdrawal effects now and then. But I'm off of everything."

"Bully for you," Nick said.

"If I can get off all that stuff, why can't you come to terms with Mayville?"

Nick sat up again. "Mayville? What makes you think anything of what I am has to do with Mayville?"

"Because we grew up together and I know you," Jarrod said, lowering his legs and leaning forward toward his brother. "I know what happened at Mayville. I never for a minute believed you had anything to do with it, but that's what you thought everybody was thinking, wasn't it? You've always believed that everyone, in the family and outside it, figured you had something to do with killing all those innocent people."

"You're full of it, Jarrod," Nick said and lay back down again.

"Am I? It's amazing how clearly you can think when you don't have drugs and liquor on the brain, Nick. It came to me about a year ago, when I was off everything and I happened to see an article in the Sacramento paper about Mayville. That's what was bothering you when we got home after the war."

"Shut up, Jarrod," Nick said.

"Then I knew. You were still carrying guilt around, after all these years, but me being an alcohol and drug addled fool, I was never there to help you figure that out."

Nick looked at Jarrod sharply. He understood, Jarrod was accepting some responsibility for Nick's life going sour. For a moment that made Nick livid, but then it brought back something else. It brought back the memory of an older brother who told him when they were kids that he would always look out for him. Jarrod didn't live up to that. "Why didn't you come looking for me when you got the light on in your messed-up attic?"

"I couldn't," Jarrod said. "That's how I know you've been feeling guilty for Mayville. I've been feeling guilty that I couldn't come to you and help you because I was such a shamed idiot I couldn't face you. Besides, I thought you were still at home and I couldn't go there. Now – maybe I can help you by using what happened to me."

Nick was starting to get irritated. He got up and leaned toward his brother. "Since when did you get to be the voice of moral authority, you who beat up little kids every chance you got?"

"Recovering addicts go straight for the moral high ground, Nick. Live with it."

Nick turned away in a huff and went for the window that overlooked the alley. He was surprised to see Heath out there, smoking a cigarette that he could smell from here, and it smelled awful. "Do you believe that kid really is our brother?"

Jarrod was surprised at the sudden change of subject, and how sincere Nick sounded about wanting his opinion. "Yeah, I do. Just look at him, Nick. He looks more like Father than either you or I do."

"I can't imagine Mother just taking him in like that."

"I can."

Nick looked back at his older brother.

Jarrod shrugged. "Heath tells me Eugene has been running the ranch since Father died. He was only 11 years old when he took over, Nick. He's had McCall, but he still needs help. You and I failed him. Heath came along, and he's coming through for him. Of course Mother would take him in."

Nick looked ornery again. "Well, just what do you propose we do about this? Go home with this Heath kid and beg for forgiveness? I'm not one for getting down on my knees."

"That's where the moral high ground is, Nick," Jarrod said, standing up. "You get out of here tomorrow, don't you?"

"Noon," Nick said.

"Get a bath and a shave and a haircut, and then, yeah, let's go to Stockton with Heath."

"You may be reformed, but I'm not."

"I can help you with that, if you'll talk to me. Even Heath has his demons from the war."

"Heath?! He's a kid!"

"A kid who joined the army at 13 and spent a lot of time in a prison camp," Jarrod said.

"I didn't know that," Nick said.

"We're not the only ones who came home in trouble, Nick. We're just the ones who couldn't get over it. You and me and Heath, we can talk tonight, maybe get Mayville out in the open finally."

"Do you think for one minute they'll take us back?"

Jarrod shrugged. "I don't know. Does it really matter if they do or they don't? We've still got lives to live. I have a wife in Sacramento. I'm not likely to be going back to Stockton to stay, whether they want us or not."

Nick's eyebrows went up. Jarrod was married!

"You have a hole you've dug for yourself to get out of," Jarrod said. "Maybe it doesn't matter if they take us back. Maybe we can find some way to take each other back, be the boys we were before that damned war took us away."

Nick's gaze fell to the floor. He was hearing that older brother of his who more than once promised to take care of him, all those years ago, before that damned war took them away. It was nice, it was comforting to hear that Jarrod again. Until this moment, Nick didn't realize how much he missed him. "Maybe," he said and looked up again.

Jarrod smiled.