CHAPTER NINETEEN

Train Talk

Nick was exhausted. He hadn't slept well while on the drive, and he certainly hadn't slept well in the jail cell. And he wasn't finding the train any more relaxing. He glanced at Sam. "Think we're gettin' too old for this?"

Sam's easy smile appeared. "Not too old for a drive, but, yeah, too old for jail."

"Was that really your first time?"

"Yep. Really was." He shrugged. "I've always been pretty much a straight arrow. Never got into trouble." His smile disappeared. "My second-oldest brother was killed in a barfight. My brother next younger 'n me was killed in a gunfight." He shook his head. "I just never felt the need to prove my manliness by gettin' in trouble."

Nick's dimples teased his face. "I don't think I'm trying to prove my manliness. But if someone starts somethin', I intend on endin' it."

"I rarely go in bars or places where trouble is likely to start. Not too many brawls in church."

"There was one once at a church picnic." Nick laughed. "A couple of young punks started mouthin' at each other and exchangin' punches, and then their families got into it, and me and Jarrod just sat there and watched the entertainment. But then someone threw a meringue pie at somebody." He shook his head. "And that's when I got involved. I wasn't about to sit there and let 'em ruin all them good pies. 'Course, I was out-matched, but Jarrod and Carl Weaver came over to help me, and we got the two groups separated and the preacher man got 'em calmed down."

Nick's dimples covered his face. "The preacher said we were heaven-sent, but for me, the only heavenly thing I wanted was the pie. I really wanted some of that pie." He absently rubbed the knuckles on his right hand.

Sam watched him. "Your hand okay?"

"What?" Nick glanced at him, then realized he was rubbing his aching knuckles. He shrugged. "I should know better 'n to slug iron bars."

"You think you broke somethin'?"

"Nah. Just bruised 'em good." Nick moved his fingers to prove his point.

"You got a good knot on that middle knuckle. And they all look purple."

Nick shrugged.

"You know, Nick, the more I get to know you, the more impressed I am that you waited five months before punching Mulligan. I can't imagine how difficult that must've been for you."

"You're the only reason I managed it." Nick shook his head. "You stopped me twice. You gave me your mantra to keep me calm. But, yeah, I owe you for that."

Sam flashed his easy smile. "Well, I owe you too. I'd've never had the experience of spending the night in jail without your help."

Nick laughed. "I think you owe li'l brother for that, not me."

Sam shrugged. "Yeah, but if I hadn't met you, I never would've known Heath. So—"

"So you ain't gonna tell Jeannie I'm corruptin' you, are you?"

"She'll figure it out all on her own." He glanced out at the rapidly passing scenery as the sun lay low over the mountains. "By the way, Jeannie is over the moon with the house. I don't think I'll ever get her outta there."

"Good. You got everything you need?"

"More'n what we need. Who picked out that nursery furniture? Jeannie adores it!"

"Isabella did. We got a matching set for our new house."

"How's that comin'?" Sam asked.

"While we were in San Francisco, Isabella approved the designs from the architect. They should have someone out this coming week to survey the land and make sure it's okay for 'em to lay the foundation." Nick stretched his legs. "I'll be happy when we can move into it. I mean, I love my family, but it gets a little crowded sometimes. Especially since we all share the same bathroom upstairs."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Only one bathroom in that big house?"

"Two. One upstairs and a small one downstairs." He grinned. "We were the first people in the valley to have indoor plumbing at all. Everybody around town had to come and look at it."

"First time I ever seen indoor plumbing was in the house we're livin' in." His smile covered his face. "I don't think Jeannie has ever been happier." Sam looked up at the ceiling. "Let's see. That baby is gonna be four weeks old in two days." He smiled with a faraway look in his eyes.

Nick started to ask him why he was counting, then stopped and studied him. "How long after having a baby can you, uh, have relations?"

"Depends on how fast she heals and how hard the labor was. If she tears, then it could be two months or so." He shrugged. "But if she don't have no complications, usually four weeks." He glanced up at Nick, his grin covering his face. "And Jeannie didn't have no complications. Long labor, yeah, but the delivery wasn't that bad."

Nick laughed. "Guess you might need to have a day off this week."

"I wouldn't do that. You know that."

Nick shrugged. "It should be an easy week. We need all hands on deck on Monday since we were gone all last week, but then, you know, if you want some time off, we can arrange it."

"I'll be fine, Nick. I'm still new there and I need to set an example for the men."

"I've seen you work, Sam. You've already set an example for the men."

Sam shrugged. "I wonder how our boys did at school this week?"

James and Levi had started first grade on Monday. Nick had wanted to take Levi himself, but when he figured out he wouldn't be able to, Jarrod offered to drop them off on his way to the office. "I hope they got along okay," Nick said. "I guess we'll find out soon."

Neither Nick nor Sam wanted to think or talk about what was really bothering them—that being what was happening with Heath—so both tried to fill each minute of silence. Just when the pause in conversation became uncomfortable, Sam glanced at Nick. "Twice now you've stopped me from spankin' my boys. Was your father lenient with you?"

Nick grunted. "Hell, no. I can't tell you how many whippin's I got because I didn't know any better. Like one time when I was about the age of our boys, I overheard some of the ranch hands sayin' words I'd never heard before but I thought sounded grownup. Of course, that was the night the new pastor and his wife came to dinner. Father asked me what I did that day, and I used the colorful words I'd heard. He took me out to the barn and beat me half to death. I had no clue what I'd done wrong."

"Bet you didn't use those words again."

"If he would've simply explained to me what they meant and why we shouldn't say 'em, I wouldn't've used 'em again neither."

"You embarrassed him."

"Unintentionally, but yeah. Still, is that a reason to treat a small child that way?"

Sam considered.

Nick locked eyes with Sam. "I quit talking for a long time after that. Me—the one that never shuts up. I was scared to say anything—afraid I'd say another bad word without knowing it." He shivered. "And when I did talk, I stuttered."

Sam watched him. "I'm sorry, Nick."

"It took me a long time to get over that. Jarrod helped me a lot." Nick's eyebrows darted up. "And that wasn't the only time. I adored my father, but I was also scared of him. And, as I got into my teen years, I resented him. It seemed like I was gonna get beat whether I was trying to behave or not, so I just thought what the hell? Why even try? And then I intentionally started gettin' into trouble."

Sam frowned.

"Finally, Uncle Jim, my father's brother, came for a visit. He figured out what was goin' on. Or, probably more likely, Mother sent for him and told him what was goin' on. He had a talk with me, and then he had a talk with Father. Then Father and me talked, and he said he'd be more patient with me if I'd start behaving myself." Nick shrugged. "It took me a while to lose my attitude, but Father was much more patient 'n I thought he could be." He raised an eyebrow. "And I decided that if I ever had kids, I'd never treat 'em that way. I never wanted my kids to fear me. I never wanted 'em to hide things from me. I never wanted 'em to think it didn't make no difference if they behaved or not."

Nick looked out the window and watched the scenery. After several minutes, he looked back at Sam. "Can you imagine that if, as a new hand, you did something different than the way we do it, and I beat you half to death because you didn't know better? I mean, would that make you want to be a better person?"

Sam sighed. "No, it wouldn't."

"Then why treat a child that way?"

"Sometimes you have to get your point made quickly."

"Yeah, but it ain't necessary to beat a kid with a belt."

"I ain't never smacked my kids with anything other than my hand," Sam said.

"Good. Don't." Nick released a breath. "And don't never smack 'em unless they know they did somethin' wrong." After all these years, his anger towards the man he loved most could still boil out. He exhaled again. Like Mother always said, Tom Barkley was an imperfect man.

Sam grunted. "I told you I'm a pretty straight arrow. And the funny part? My parents were pretty relaxed with me. They were harsh with the older boys, but they let me and the younger ones get by with quite a bit." He raised an eyebrow. "Maybe there's somethin' to be said for sparin' the rod."

Nick tried to glare at him, but his dimples didn't cooperate. "You tryin' to say you turned out better 'n me cause your parents were easier on ya?"

Sam laughed. "Not better, just better behaved."

Silence again joined them. Nick's mind returned to what had kept him from resting. "I wonder what's going on with Heath."

"I don't know," Sam sighed deeply. "I've been praying for him."

"I get aggravated with Heath sometimes, but he's a good man."

Sam nodded. "I wish I had explained things to him instead of slugging him. And you know that ain't like me. I was just worried about Jeannie, and I didn't feel like I had the time to stand there and explain things to him that I thought he should already know." He shrugged. "I know it's my fault we got off to a rough start."

"He's had to fight to get the Barkley hands to take him seriously. I never had that problem 'cause I was always there. But the men weren't real happy about him comin' in from nowhere and tellin' 'em what to do." Nick scratched his cheek. "And I didn't help that out much. I wasn't happy about him bein' there, neither, and I didn't do a lot to help 'im fit in." He rubbed his shoulder. "He fired a man, and I immediately rehired him."

Sam frowned. "Why did you do that?"

Nick chewed his lip. "I shouldn't've. Jarrod chewed me out good for doing that. Then I got shot in the leg at the beginning of a drive and Heath had to take over. Part of me was hoping he'd fail, even though I didn't want the drive to fail. But he dealt with a lot of crap on that drive. By the time he came back, Heath had the respect of every man with him." He glanced out the train window. "Even I had to give him credit."

"You still havin' issues with him?"

"No." Nick gave a small smile. "Oh, we get into it every once in a while—as you well know—but there ain't no one else I'd trust more to have my back. He's saved me more'n once."

"I hope your lawyer brother can get him out of his trouble."

"Me, too." Nick shook his head. "Heath is always the one tellin' me to never throw the first punch. And now he went and done it. Just don't seem fair that the one time he does it, he gets in big trouble."

"Yeah, and Sweeny had it comin'."

Nick nodded. "I wasn't paying attention to what Sweeny was sayin' until I saw Heath tense up. I knew he was ready to explode, and that's when I heard the last sentence or two before Heath went at him."

"I've been prayin' for him, and I'll have Jeannie pray with me tonight."

"He might need every prayer he can get."

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