Chapter Seven
Tessa excused herself to put Rosemary to nap in her sister's bed.
"Jarrod, would you mind coming with me?" with a look that brokered no opposition.
He frowned for a moment knowing she would ask him about his rudeness at the picnic with the artist and his wife. Jack arched an eyebrow at Jarrod's discomfort.
"Need to get this over with—Jack, pour me a double scotch. I will be back down soon."
She washed Rosemary's hands in the basin and dried them on the linens. The child immediately yawned and rolled over in the big brass bed.
Jarrod took Tessa's hand and took her into the sitting room, "I owe you an explanation."
"Not if you don't want to. I trust you, Jarrod. I just wanted to know if I did something to upset you. I want to please you, that's all."
"Oh no honey. Not at all." he sighed.
He reached over and kissed her, "Tessa, that couple has a very unsavory reputation."
"I thought he was a famous artist. His art was magnificent; you said so yourself." she frowned slightly confused.
"No—-not his occupation. The couple has been known to be uh, oh— unfaithful and for lack of a more proper word, libertine."
She bit her lip, "I don't know what that is."
He whispered into her ear. Her eyes grew wide, her cheeks flamed and her hand went to her mouth. She was mortified.
"Oh Jarrod. If I was a proper lady to swoon, I think I might."
"I didn't like the way he looked at you. And did you see the dried plants?"
"Herbs? Uh I think."
"Hasheesh. Her first husband wrote a tawdry book about it. From the hemp plant. Causes sensory pleasures. I have seen many men disappear into opium dens and lose themselves. She left him for Bierstadt. It was quite the scandal. He is a very talented artist but he is not accepted in proper circles."
"Do people smoke it?"
"Yes. Or chew it or ingest an oil."
"Oh."
Tessa's cheeks were flush with embarrassment; he cradled her in his arms. She buried her head in his chest.
"I am sorry, Jarrod. I didn't know. I just have always wanted to learn to paint."
He pulled her back and looked at her firmly, "You have nothing to apologize for. You were just being your kind and generous self. I am sorry even to explain such things to you and take away your innocence—-there is a very dark side of this world. But—-I would love for you to learn to paint. We will find a better tutor, I promise—-and you always please me. You couldn't please me more Tess."
"Jarrod, don't tell Zella. She will think me a child."
"I won't, my love."
—-&—-
She dried her tears and he went down to the almost empty cafe. He took his scotch with him. The serving ladies were busily beginning their supper meal; Zella and Jack were looking over the additions to the menu to post outside.
Jack grabbed the coffee pot and motioned them to a back table, "Been waiting all day, counselor brother. Am I out of the race?"
"Not necessarily."
Zella scowled but let Jack continue, "I am fine to drop out if I have to but I would rather not. I started this with the idea honestly of making money and cornering the market the way the last guy did. But the more I talk to folks, the more I think I can do. Drainage for the deluges in the winter and spring. Expanding the boardwalks to the train station. Town square fixing up. Maybe even a library. Want to make a donation?"
Jarrod looked at Jack with new eyes and nodded in appreciation.
Zella looked from Jarrod to Jack and back—-she twisted her mouth and swallowed down her words. She had promised her husband she would stay calm and not fly off the handle.
"I am open to ideas, brother."
"Brother, if you don't mind some mud being thrown at your new waistcoat, I think we can beat this Dorothy and Matthias Finn. And my friend, Phillip Archer. I have got some ideas."
"Will you be my campaign manager?"
"I am up for the challenge."
Jack turned to his wife, "Zella, what think you? We are in this together. Partners."
She smiled, "I am in. Deal away."
—&—-
Robert Danforth's assistant's stepbrother—sat in a local cafe with a copy of the rustling case and plea deal. It was all in the public record—- but all had not been released to the journalists looking for a story. Until today. Several underlined passages were passed across the table with an envelope of money. This was the first reporter that would accept the assignment. Several others were men of integrity and would not use sordid details against the family that brought the largest cattle theft ring in the state to justice. "It's not good business."The mainstream papers ran with stories of justice and restitution; of families staved off from ruin by courageous Barkleys. The story was selling well. Two dime novels planned on using the story for a plot.
All the San Francisco Chronicle had reported was the marriage of a Miss Contessa Knight of Knight's Ferry and Mr. Jarrod Barkley of Stockton. A small blurb was written about both families being original settlers to "our fair state."
"Name's Peter Doolin."
The man gave him a false name. Doolin knew but didn't care. The River Monarch was never far from his mind and anything to discredit Tom Barkley's family was a boon.
"This will be printed in Stockton. If it can get enough traction, the San Francisco papers will have to pick it up."
"That's all we ask."
"The Stockton Town Eagle. Remember the name. It will beat out the other two papers in town soon enough."
The man shook his head, paid for the meal, and headed out. He remembered his orders, "Get in, get out, little conversation and no clues to your identity." He did his job well.
(River Monarch and Doolin are out of timeline order in this story.)
"All the papers are calling the Barkleys heroes. Mine too unfortunately but this new tidbit will sully their reputation. I will have to go slow. Create some local chatter, first."
Doolin finished his meal, wiped his mouth, and grinned as he read the underlined portions over and over.
"Nice. And I pocketed a hundred dollars for something I would have done for free."
—-&—
Jarrod and Tessa ate their supper at Zella's. Rosemary loved being the center of attention of Unca Jack and Auntie Z. Jack excused himself to go run the gambling parlor as the Barkleys headed back to the hotel in the dark. They took the backways again to avoid the stares. Rosemary walked a few feet ahead in the alley under their watchful eye.
"Today is our two-month anniversary, Jarrod. Have you forgotten?"
"Not at all my love. I have plans to celebrate. The champagne should be chilled and remember, I have the key to the adjoining room for our daughter. " he winked.
She kissed his ear and nipped it with her teeth in the shadows. Jarrod inadvertently let out a moan.
Rosemary turned around and asked in concern, "Pappy, are you hurt?"
Tessa snickered.
"No Rosie, I am better than I have ever been and plan on the night getting much better."
Tessa's eyes grew big as Jarrod picked up the little girl.
He winked at her and her stomach dropped again.
"Oh Jarrod," she whispered to herself, "I am the luckiest woman in the world."