CHAPTER SEVEN

Eugene's in Trouble

Monday, November 19, 1877

Jarrod had planned to write Caroline. He had eventually opened her letter, which was sweet and kind but not presumptuous. And he actually did write to her—four different times—but each letter ended up in the fire.

A week passed, during which Jarrod mostly recovered from his cough, and Silas, although still not entirely well, was back to work part time. Victoria and JR continued to exchange letters, and she invited him to Thanksgiving dinner.

On Monday, November 19, Jarrod sat in his Stockton office, trying to stay busy. Caroline had not written again, and Jarrod's guilt weighed heavily on him. He tried again to concentrate on his work, but it was no use. He wasn't going to think straight until he wrote to Caroline and cleared his conscience. The problem was, he didn't know what to say to her. With a sigh, he gathered up his files, stuffed them in his briefcase, and stepped out of his inner office.

"Going out?" Genevieve, his secretary, asked.

"I'm going to work from home the rest of the day," Jarrod stated, "And I'm not sure I'll be in the office tomorrow. If anything comes up, send someone out to the house." Something told him to reschedule his Wednesday appointment, but he couldn't think of a reason for the feeling, so he just shrugged and left.

Jarrod checked his watch. It wasn't even noon yet. He stopped by the post office and picked up the mail. Most of it was for him, and most of that was business. But one envelope caught his attention. It was from the Dean of Students, Berkeley University. Jarrod ripped it open right there in the post office.

Dear Mr. Jarrod Barkley:

We regret to inform you that your ward, Eugene Barkley, has been expelled from our university as of Thursday, November 15, 1877. He may not re-enroll for this semester. To enroll in future semesters, you and your ward will need to meet with the enrollment committee. If you have any questions, please feel free to contact me.

Dr. James Morrison, Dean of Students

University of California, Berkeley

Thursday? Expelled on Thursday? This was Monday, and the boy had not found his way home as of yet. So where was he? And why had he been expelled?

Jarrod frowned and went directly to the telegraph office. He sent a telegram to Dr. Morrison requesting a meeting for first thing Tuesday morning. Then he went to the railroad depot and purchased a first-class ticket for the evening train to San Francisco and sent another telegram to his houseman letting him know he'd be arriving on the late train. Finally, Jarrod stopped back by his office and asked Genevieve to cancel his appointments for the rest of the week.

It wasn't until Jarrod pocketed the letter and his train ticket and headed home that his anger hit. What the hell had the kid done and where the hell was he?

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Tuesday, November 20, 1877

At 7:30 the next morning, Jarrod sat in Dean Morrison's office, waiting to see the man. He hadn't told his mother or siblings that Eugene had been expelled or that he was missing. He'd only told them he was going to San Francisco for an emergency work situation. But someone had to be aware of his real purpose in case Eugene appeared at home. So, he'd confided in the only person he could rely on to keep his secret, not come after him, and be aware when Eugene arrived—Silas. And Silas had promised to telegraph him if he heard any news.

Finally, the dean's secretary led Jarrod into the inner office.

Dr. Morrison stood and offered his hand to Jarrod. "Thank you for coming, Mr. Barkley."

Jarrod nodded. "Thank you for seeing me."

"I assume you're here about Eugene's expulsion?"

"Yes, sir."

"I am greatly disappointed in your brother. He was proving to be one of our best scholars."

"What happened?" Jarrod didn't have a hair-trigger temper like Nick. It took him a while to get angry. But his anger could grow too strong, especially if it built up over time. And he was already nearing the twenty-one-hour mark, and he hoped he could calm down before he found his brother.

"I assume it was a prank, but it's not something we can tolerate."

"What, specifically, happened?" Jarrod asked.

"I assume you haven't spoken to Eugene?"

"No, sir."

Dr. Morrison took a long breath and exhaled just as slowly. "Two of our female students in the women's dormitory reported that a young man broke into their room and stole some of their intimate apparel."

Jarrod frowned. Eugene was no angel by any means, but he couldn't imagine Eugene doing that.

"A student reported seeing a young man enter Eugene's dormitory room with the apparel." The dean cleared his throat. "The reporting student said he could not clearly see the man, but he assumed it was Henry Midcaff, Eugene's dormmate. I sent a resident assistant to Midcaff and your brother's room; he asked permission to search the room. Midcaff and Eugene were both there and agreed. The aide found the garments in Mr. Midcaff's dresser. When the assistant asked Mr. Midcaff how they got there, he said he had no idea."

Jarrod nodded.

"I then had a meeting with Mr. Midcaff and explained the expulsion policy. He continued to proclaim his innocence—and, frankly, the boy appeared to be telling the truth. Shortly after my meeting with Mr. Midcaff, Eugene came to my office and said he had stolen the items because he'd lost a bet with a friend who didn't attend this university, and that he fully intended to return the apparel to the victims."

Jarrod scratched his head. Surely, Eugene was smarter than that. Surely. And why would he put them in Henry's dresser?

"So, I explained to Eugene that he would be expelled. He said he understood and signed the papers." The dean handed a manila folder to Jarrod.

Jarrod opened the folder and saw the confession, written in Eugene's handwriting, as well as the expulsion notice also signed by Eugene. He read the full notice, which stated that Eugene was to have his personal belongings out of his dorm room within three days. He leaned forward. "Is there anything else I need to know?"

The dean shrugged. "That's really all I know."

Jarrod glanced through the rest of the material. He found a page with handwritten notes. Hiram Hickman, room 235 of the men's dorm, was listed as the witness. He reviewed the rest of the page, which listed the victims as Mary Margaret Johnson and Martha Littleton in room 126 of the women's dorm. He stored that information in his mind. "Do you have any other information about the situation?"

"Everything I know is in that folder. I will state, though, that your brother was very polite and cooperative."

Jarrod stood. "Thank you, Dr. Morrison." He offered his hand. "I'm sure we'll be in touch."

The dean warmly shook Jarrod's hand and nodded. "Anytime, Mr. Barkley. Anytime."

Jarrod left the dean's office and decided he'd go to Eugene's dorm room to see if the boy just happened to still be there. This entire situation reminded him of a few years back—not long after his father had died. Eugene had started acting out at school—getting into fights, not paying attention, misbehaving in as many ways as he could. The teacher sent notes home. Their mother was still battling her own grief, and Jarrod had been appointed as Eugene and Audra's legal guardian. And, until the day they received the letter stating that if one more misbehavior occurred Eugene would be suspended from the school, Jarrod thought being a legal guardian was just a continuation of being a big brother. Oh, he knew the law and he knew the responsibility he had, but it never occurred to him that he'd have to step up and, instead of just being a big brother, take a parental role.

And now here it was, all these years later, and he was again being called on to act as a parent. And, dammit, Eugene was old enough to know better.

As he walked to the dormitory, his anger again grew. This time, Eugene was going to feel Pappy's wrath. And if he thought Jarrod was going to pay for him to return to Berkeley next semester, he had another think coming. The kid obviously had some growing up to do before he was ready for college, so he could just work on the ranch for a year. Yes, one full year. That should make him glad enough to be allowed to go to school that he wouldn't do something so stupid again.

Jarrod realized his fists were tight as he approached Eugene's dorm. He made himself relax them, although his anger continued to boil. Jarrod pounded on the door.

He heard sounds of movement inside the room, and then the door tentatively opened. A young man about the size of Eugene stood there. "Yes, sir?"

"I'm Jarrod Barkley. I'm looking for my brother Eugene." Jarrod shoved his foot in the door so the boy couldn't close it.

"Eugene isn't here." The boy's clothes were tattered and patched—and not of good quality to begin with.

"May I come in, please?" Jarrod's tone made it clear it was an order and not a request.

"Yes, sir." The boy opened the door fully and stepped back.

Jarrod walked in and looked around. Unless he was under the bed, Eugene wasn't there. However, his clothing and dress shoes were in plain sight. "I assume you are Henry Midcaff?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you know where Eugene is?"

The boy hesitated for just a second. "No, sir."

The hesitation spoke volumes. "I believe you do know where he is." Jarrod swung around, the fire in his eyes aimed at Henry. "Now, tell me."

"I'm sorry, sir, but I do not know where he is right now."

The tacked on "right now" told Jarrod everything he needed to know. "Well, let me ask you this. If you were looking for Eugene right now, where would you look?"

Henry swallowed hard and looked like he wanted to be anywhere except where he was. "I, I can't tell you that, sir."

"Maybe I didn't introduce myself as thoroughly as I should've," Jarrod said, squaring back his shoulders and working hard to keep his tone even. "My name is Jarrod Barkley, and I am Eugene's legal guardian. I am responsible for Eugene until his eighteenth birthday, and withholding information about his whereabouts could put you in legal jeopardy."

The boy's hands trembled.

Jarrod's did as well—but from anger instead of fear. He pecked on Henry's shoulder. "I am asking you one more time, where is my brother?"

"I honestly don't know for sure, but I'd look for him at the pub across the street. They have cheap sandwiches and he likes to study there."

Jarrod took off his hat and nodded at the boy. "I will go there now. If I don't find him, I will be back—and I strongly recommend you be here when I return."

"Y-yes, sir."

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