CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
When Pappy Speaks
Saturday, Nick paced the Stockton railroad terminal. The train from Roseville was late. He checked his pocket watch again. It was almost ten minutes late. Nick paced. He had things to do.
And then the whistle blew. Nick still paced. He would be so glad to have his brothers home. It had been what? Seven or eight months since he and Heath were home at the same time? He'd missed working side by side with his brother. Although he was a little worried about how Sam and Heath would get along. Nick scowled. He'd knock their heads together if he had to. He wasn't going to put up with any dissention.
The thunderous sound of the approaching train dispelled the peacefulness of the quiet lunch crowd. The whistle blew again. Nick stepped back and tried to guess which car they were in. Knowing Jarrod, they had traveled first class, which was usually the first car after the engine or the last car before the caboose.
Nick stood on the platform, where he could see both ends of the train. Heath climbed down the stairs of the first car, looking around for Nick.
Nick ran over to the car. Heath's arm was wrapped and in a sling. "Why the sling?" Nick asked.
"Ask Jarrod." Heath jumped off the last step and reached up to hold Margaret's arm as she came down.
Nick scowled at him, stepped in front of his brother, lifted Margaret, and set her down on the ground. "That's how you do it," he said to his younger brother.
"I only got one arm!" Heath protested.
"Nick, grab this," Jarrod said from the car. He turned a large chest sideways and pushed it down the stairs.
Nick grabbed it and set it aside. He went back and Jarrod tossed a couple of carpetbags to him, then another large chest.
"I think that's all," Jarrod said, jumping off the train.
"Why is Heath wearing a sling?" Nick asked Jarrod.
"Because little brother can't seem to remember he's not supposed to be using that arm. So Pappy decided wearing a sling would help him remember."
Nick cast a glance at Heath, who scowled in return. Nick grinned. "Glad he listens to Pappy."
"When Pappy speaks, he listens." Jarrod smirked. "Just like you do."
"Keep on thinking that." Nick stared at the pile of luggage. "I brought the surrey, but I don't think it will all fit in there."
"That's okay. I'll rent a horse." Jarrod lifted the second chest.
Nick picked up the first chest. "Shove that luggage on top," he said.
"I'll get 'em," Heath stated. He tucked one under his arm and carried the other by the handle. Margaret took hold of his elbow covered by the sling.
They loaded the bags in the surrey, fitting both the chests in the front seat—one on the floorboard and one on the seat—and the carpetbags in the back with Heath and Margaret.
"See you at home," Nick called to Jarrod.
Jarrod tipped his hat and headed to the livery.
XXXXX
Jarrod passed them along the way and met them on the front porch.
Victoria welcomed Margaret with a hug.
"Mother," Heath said, "This is Margaret Reynolds. Margaret, this is my stepmother, Victoria Barkley."
"So glad to meet you," Victoria said. "Congratulations on your upcoming wedding."
"Thank you." Margaret smiled. "It truly is a pleasure to meet you."
Victoria grabbed Heath and hugged him tightly. "I think you'd better come in and tell me what's going on."
She also hugged Jarrod, then followed the family into the library.
Nick walked in the door last. "Isabella!" he bellowed.
She didn't answer.
"Nick, would you put Margaret's luggage upstairs?"
"Of course!" Nick answered. He glanced at Victoria and then at Heath.
"Put them in my room," Heath stated.
"I assigned Margaret the guest room next to Audra," Victoria said firmly.
"Mother, may I speak with you a moment?" Heath asked.
"Go ahead." She made no move to grant privacy.
Heath caught Nick's eye, then glanced at Margaret.
Nick nodded and took Margaret by the elbow. "Come on into the library, Margaret, and I'll show you around," he said, and Margaret went with him.
"Mother, I need to sleep in the same room as Margaret."
"No, you do not need to. You want to."
"Mother, please." Heath glanced at Jarrod, his eyes begging Jarrod to help present his case. "I need to make sure no one gets to her."
"She will be perfectly safe here." Victoria squared her shoulders.
"JR thought so at his house, too." Heath closed his eyes. "I can't sleep if I can't watch over her."
"Mother," Jarrod said, "Heath has proven to be a perfect gentleman. He's not trying to take advantage of Margaret. He simply wants to protect her."
"I will not set a precedent that an unmarried couple sleeping in the same room is an acceptable practice in this house."
"Margaret's father had no objection," Jarrod stated.
"Well, I do, and it's not happening in this house."
Jarrod placed a hand on Heath's arm. "Please wait in the library."
Heath nodded and hurried out of the foyer.
"Mother, please come in and sit down with me," Jarrod said, motioning to the parlor.
"There is nothing to discuss."
"Yes, Mother, there is. Please." He took her elbow and led her to the parlor.
Victoria sat next to the fireplace and glared at Jarrod. "Are you going to tell me I'm not the owner of this house?"
"No," Jarrod answered. "You already know that." Nick was the actual owner of the house. His mother was well aware of that, but she was also aware her children would not go against her wishes. "I want to explain to you why this is critical to Heath's well-being."
She scowled. "Seriously, Jarrod?"
"Seriously. Heath's nerves are shot. He's been through hell and back this past week. And not just once. He's been jailed, believing he could be hung, then held for malicious assault. He's had to tolerate JR's stupidity while trying to protect Margaret." Jarrod continued listing all the trauma that had happened in just the past week. "Now, do you want to know why that boy is out of his mind with worry? Why his nerves are shot? Why he feels like he has to watch Margaret every minute? He loves her, Mother. He absolutely adores her. He isn't going to do anything he shouldn't—he just needs to know she's safe. Can't you understand that?"
Victoria considered his words. "You know I don't like it."
Jarrod smiled indulgently at his mother. "You know—"
"I know. I don't have to like it." Victoria sighed. "I just—I mean, what will people think?"
"When have you ever cared what people think?"
"I care what my children think. What kind of example is that setting for Audra?"
"Audra is old enough to understand the extenuating circumstances." Jarrod scowled. "And if she isn't, I'll be happy to explain it to her."
Victoria searched Jarrod's face. "You really think it's that important?"
"Yes, Mother, I do. Heath will not get a moment's sleep if he isn't where he can protect Margaret. And he needs sleep to heal and prevent infection. I think it's not only important, but critical to his well-being."
Victoria nodded. "Very well, then."
Jarrod released his breath. "Thank you, Mother."
"Thank you for looking out for your brother."
"It's one of the things I do best." Jarrod smiled. "At least, most of the time." He followed his mother into the library.
"Nick," Victoria said, "Would you mind helping Jarrod put Margaret's luggage in Heath's room?"
Three sets of eyes went to Victoria, then to Jarrod.
Jarrod winked at Heath, who gave him his crooked half-smile.
Nick wordlessly carried the larger chest upstairs. Jarrod followed him with the second chest. Once in Heath's room, Nick swung around and faced Jarrod. "How the hell did you pull that one off?"
Jarrod shrugged. "You have to know who you're debating and what's important to him—or her, in this case—and then you present your case with that in mind."
"So, what was important to Mother?"
"Heath's well-being."
Nick shook his head. "I always knew you were the silver-tongued devil, but that just beats all. I think we need to start calling you the solid gold-tongued devil."
Jarrod chuckled and slapped Nick's shoulder. "Brother Nick, I think it's close enough to dinner time now that we can have a pre-dinner drink."
"Did I miss lunch?"
"I think we all did. Let's see if Silas has some sandwiches hidden somewhere."
XXXXX