A/N I know Jim Barkley's wife was not name Caroline only, for this story, it is.

Chapter Four

Nick and Heath stood in Jim Barkley's living room looking at the two new residents of Jim's home. The young woman was looking at them and smiling politely, but her eyes held the look of someone who had been on the defensive far too long. On the other hand, the young boy didn't even attempt to look up or smile. He simply kept his head down and in the book he was reading. Nick and Heath could hear some of Jim's words ringing in their ears.

"There's been two additions to my household. You need to be told about them before we go inside." Jim looked at his nephews.

Need to? Nick and Heath glanced at each other, wondering what was coming. "So, tell us more." Nick folded his arms and waited.

"If you'll remember, Nick, your late Aunt Caroline had a younger sister, Patience." Jim stood on the steps leading up to the porch of his home. "When the Civil War broke out, we lost contact with her. Her husband, he," Jim sighed and shook his head, "from what Patience said, had joined the Confederate army. My sister-in-law wrote and said how it tore her world apart because she didn't agree with the decision, only she refused to leave him; said she was still his wife no matter what."

"He was killed in the war; I remember my parents writing and telling me about that." Nick paused and, with a bit of shock in his voice, admitted he'd never been told the man was fighting for the south.

"Yes, we learned that after the war was over." Jim put his hands in his pockets. He still couldn't believe what he'd learned from his niece once she and the boy she introduced as her son had showed up on his doorsteps. Jim looked at Heath and Nick. "Because we lost contact with Patience, we didn't know that Caroline's sister died towards the end of the war also, shortly after her husband was killed. We were told only one of her children; her oldest, a daughter named Ruth survived the war. We tried to find her; Ruth that is, but never could."

Nick and Heath look at Jim with questioning eyes. "One of the new additions is the oldest daughter?" Nick asked while Heath was asking the same thing silently to himself.

Jim nodded. "She says a friend talked her parents into taking her in, but that only lasted a couple of years." Jim straightened up and, throwing his shoulders back, snapped, "The father had a terrible temper and drank; his wife wasn't much better. One day the man was so drunk, he beat Ruth up rather badly. After that happened, Ruth says that, out of desperation, she got up in the middle of the night with just the clothes on her back, along with one coat heavy coat." The anger Jim felt towards any man that would do such a thing came out in his voice as he talked.

All three men were sickened at the thought, all three wanted to find the man and beat him senseless. Finally it was Nick that broke the silence. "How did she survive? Why didn't she come here sooner?"

"My brother in law and I had words the last time he was here." Jim sighed as he leaned against one of the pillars that stood along the edge of the porch. "Apparently he made it loud and clear that the family would get no help from me if they needed it; he was wrong, but he still made it clear as crystal to his family." He sighed. "Ruth says she married at a mere thirteen years old; married a man who made her think he loved her and would take care of her. Only, when she turned fifteen, the bum deserted her. She had a time of it providing for Timothy and finally decided, in spite of what her father had said to her family, to take a chance. She's been trying to work her way out here for the past few years. Just one thing after another got in her way. And, apparently, the few times she tried to write me, the money she had to pay for paper or wires would, somehow, wind up stolen or lost." He shook his head. "After that, she stuck to simply doing her best to keep her and Timothy alive, allowing others to think it she had been made a widow by the war. It wasn't hard to do since, from what she says; Timothy never knew his father and talks very little. Since they've come here, I've yet to hear the boy speak more than a dozen words, though she says he talks with whole sentences when it's just the two of them-even if he keeps it to just one sentence." He then went on to say how his niece had said she wished she hadn't felt it necessary to allow others to believe her ex-husband was dead, but many people looked down on anyone who was divorced.

"So," Heath, who had been watching Jim Barkley ever since the man had stepped out onto the porch and knew there, was something the man wasn't saying. "What else is there? What other reason made it so you wanted us down here?"

Heath and Nick looked at the young boy sitting on the couch with his nose in a book. Their hearts went out to the child as they saw the condition of his left leg; it was twisted quite badly and a crutch leaned against the couch next to him. Jim had explained that Timothy had broken his leg when he was five and that, lacking the money to get him proper medical care, the leg had healed crooked. Their uncle was right. There might not be anything Heath could do to fix the leg itself; but, maybe, he could still be of help to the boy…as the boy seemed to think having a bad leg meant he couldn't do anything of real value.

"This is Ruth Duncan, the niece I was telling you about." Jim gestured towards Ruth, who continued to smile politely, but still looked rather uneasy, and this," he pointed towards the young boy, "Is her son, Timothy."

"Nice to meet you," Ruth spoke up as her eyes turned to the young boy. "Timothy,"

The young boy looked up with a look of trepidation in his eyes; it made Nick and Heath wondering if Jim was right, and what the two were hiding. "Hi," the young boy said-to appease Ruth and her uncle.

"Same here," Nick and Heath both smiled back at Ruth before Jim offered to show them to their rooms, though both brothers took a glance towards Ruth. She sure was beautiful.