Tom Barkley drove his sons to school on Monday morning.  That event caused another eruption of Nick's temper.  The teen had been riding a horse to school from the first day he started when he was six years old.  Nick scowled as he helped his father ready the wagon.

 

     "You never took me to school on my first day."

 

     Tom looked across the horse he was harnessing.  

 

"That's because you didn't want me to.  You insisted on riding Ginger along side Jarrod."

 

     "Why can't Heath ride Ginger then and I'll ride Coco?"

 

     "That's how we'll do things tomorrow if Heath wants to.  But for today we're doing things my way."

 

     "Why?"

 

     "Nicholas--"

 

     "I'm just asking why."

 

     "You know perfectly well why.  This is Heath's first day at a school where he knows no one other than you.  I think it will be easier for him if together, you and I, introduce him to Miss Wellington and the other pupils."

 

     "I still don't understand why I have to be a part of this.  Why can't I go on ahead and meet up with my friends like I do any other morning?"

     Tom took a deep breath.  Jarrod had never given him these kinds of problems when he was Nick's age, nor did Tom recall ever giving his own father any back talk.  But Thor...well Thor had been another story and Nick was just like his uncle in more ways than one.

 

     "You have to be a part of this because whether you like it or not you're Heath's brother.  End of discussion."

 

     "Well, I don't like it.  I don't like being Heath's brother one teeny tiny bit."

 

     "Nick, I said end of discussion."

 

     "But--"

 

     "Nicholas, that's enough."

 

     Tom glared at his sullen teenager.  His gaze shifted when he caught sight of Victoria in the doorway of the barn.  Heath was with her carrying a new slate in one hand and the tin lunch bucket Jarrod had used in another.  By the look on Victoria's face Tom knew she and the boy had been privy to Nick's words.

 

     The rancher put on his best grin.  "There's my boy.  And don't you look just dandy on your first day of school."

 

     Heath didn't say anything as Tom swung him up onto the wagon seat.  Before Nick could escape to the back of the wagon Tom said, "Nick, you drive."

 

     Indecision hung heavy in the air.  There was nothing Nick liked more than driving a team of horses, yet his pride dictated that he wasn't allowed to find any enjoyment in this day.

 

     Tom didn't stand for further argument.  He climbed up on the seat next to Heath, leaving room for Nick to his left.  He leaned over with the reins in his hand. 

 

     "Nick, come on.  We need to get going."   

 

     Nick finally took the reins from his father and climbed up beside him.

 

Victoria patted her teenager's leg. "Have a good day." She smiled at Heath.  "You have a good day, too, Heath.  I'm sure you'll come home with all sorts of wonderful stories about your new school."

 

     Heath simply nodded his head.  Whatever he was feeling inside about this adventure he'd kept to himself.  He hadn't even allowed Tom to draw him into a conversation about attendance at Stockton's school no matter how many times Tom had tried to bring the subject up.

 

     Tom timed the trip so he and his sons would arrive at the schoolhouse before any other children were there.  Nick insisted on waiting in the schoolyard for his friends while Tom took Heath inside to introduce him to Miss Wellington. 

The father allowed his teenager this much.  He wasn’t in the mood for any more tension between himself and his son.

 

     Stockton's teacher was nineteen years old with hair the color of burnished copper and laughing Irish green eyes to match.  She barely reached Tom's chest in height, and had the fine bones of a filly.  This was her second year at Stockton's school and she was loved by all her pupils.  The little ones adored her because she made learning fun and was devoted to them and their well-being.  The older girls admired her and wanted to be just like her, while the older boys had crushes on this beautiful young woman who hailed from New York City.

 

     Tom was president of the school board and had been instrumental in bringing Kathleen Wellington to them.  He was pleased with her performance thus far and could only pray she wouldn't marry any time soon and leave them. 

 

     Miss Wellington turned from the blackboard when she heard footsteps on the wooden floor. 

 

     "Mr. Barkley."  The girl stepped out from behind her desk.  "How nice to see you.  And this must be Heath."

     Tom had spoken to the teacher the previous week.  Although he'd said no more than, "I'd like to enroll my eight year old son, Heath, to start school on Monday," gossip had already reached the young woman's ears in regards to Heath's sudden appearance.  That made no difference to Kathleen.  She loved her pupils and wasn't concerned with the circumstances that brought them to her.

 

     "Yes," Tom confirmed now.  "This is Heath.  Heath, this is Miss Wellington."

 

     Heath held his hand out to the teacher.  "How do you do, ma'am?"

     "I'm fine, Heath.  Thank you for asking.  Your father tells me the teacher at the Strawberry school said you’re advanced in your sums and reading."

 

     "Yes, ma'am."

 

     "That's excellent, Heath.  Positively excellent.  You'll be a big help to me with some of the younger pupils.  Would you like to be a tutor?"

     "I can be if you want me to.  I helped my friends, Tony and John, at the Strawberry school.  They didn't know how to read very well and they had problems with their sums.  Sometimes Mr. Evans would ask me to take them to the back of the room and work with them."

 

     "That's wonderful.  I can already tell you're the kind of boy I can rely on."  The teacher took Heath's hand, for the moment Tom was forgotten. 

 

     "Now this is where you'll sit.  Raleigh and Rhodes Manners will share this desk with you.  And over here is where we put our lunch buckets.  And the cloak room is right there, behind that door."

 

     Miss Wellington had Heath set his slate on his desk and put his lunch bucket on the shelf at the back of the room. 

 

     "Why don't you go outside until I ring the bell.  I see some of the other children are arriving.  I'm sure Nick will introduce you to them."

 

     Heath turned to look at Tom.  The man gave his son an encouraging smile.  "Go on and play until school starts.  You met Raleigh and Rhodes at church yesterday.  I know they'll be waiting for you.  I'll be back at the end of the day to pick you and Nick up."

     Heath gave his father a smile that didn't do a good job of covering his fear.  Tom could only imagine how scared he must be at the prospect of facing all those strange children.  The man walked over and bent down.

 

     "You'll be fine, Heath.  Why I bet by the end of the day you'll have made friends with every child in this school."

 

     Heath didn't tell his father what he was thinking.  So far he hadn't even been able to make friends with Nick.

 

     The boy turned and headed out the door.  The sounds of laughter and shouts drifted in to Tom and Miss Wellington until the door was closed behind Heath.

 

     "He'll be all right, Mr. Barkley," the young teacher assured.  "Entering a new school is difficult for any child.  But the records you brought me from Strawberry indicate Heath is a bright child who makes friends easily.  It won't take him long to fit in."

 

     “I’m sure it won’t.”  Tom tipped his hat to the woman.  "Thank you for taking the time to make him feel welcome.  If you have any problems I'll be here at three to pick the boys up."

     "Now don't you worry, I'm sure there won't be any problems.  Or at least not any I can't handle."

 

     Tom left without saying anything further to either of his sons.  Nick was playing stickball with a group of teenage boys while Heath watched.  Tom wished his eight year old would join the other boys his age who were playing hot potato in another section of the schoolyard, but decided not to interfere.  No doubt Miss Wellington was correct.  By the end of the day Heath would have more friends than he could count.

 

     Ten minutes after Tom left Miss Wellington stepped out on the porch with a bell in her hand.  She gave it six healthy rings.  In groups of twos and threes her pupils headed for the schoolhouse save for Heath.  He walked alone, lagging behind the four boys and three girls who were nearest his age.

 

     Nick turned when he heard footsteps pound from behind.   George Barnsworth joined Nick and his friends.

 

     "Hey, Barkley, is that mangy little pup walkin' ahead of us your father's bastard?"

     Franklin Manners glared at the bulky fifteen-year old.  "Shut up, George."

     George ignored the younger boy.  "How 'bout it, Barkley?  Whatta ya’ have to say on the subject?  Is the kid your father's mistake?"

 

     Heath turned around and looked at Nick.  Nick refused to meet his brother's eyes when he dropped his own to the ground and mumbled,  "Yeah.  Yeah, that's about the size of it."

 

     George gave Heath a shove as the older boys passed him. 

 

     "Bastard."

 

     The eight year old stood alone, watching his schoolmates trot up the steps.  Miss Wellington waved him over.

 

     "Come on, Heath!  It's time for school to start."

 

     She gave Heath's shoulder a squeeze when he walked by her.  She hadn't heard the exchange between George and Nick, but had observed it from afar.   She'd also observed the shove George had given Heath.  She didn't have to be close enough to hear George's words to be able to guess what was said.  Every school had a bully and George Barnsworth was Stockton's.  Whenever he thought she wasn't looking he pulled girls' pigtails, dropped frogs down dresses, slipped snakes into coat pockets, and put his foot in the aisle to trip a child who'd been called to the blackboard.  She generally broke up fights between him and Nick Barkley at least once every two weeks.  Though she had to be fair and punish both boys when these incidents occurred, she hated having to keep Nick after school.  She couldn't fault him for defending a younger boy George was picking on or coming to the honor of a girl whose skirts George was trying to peek under.  That's why she'd been shocked when Nick had allowed George to shove Heath.  At that moment she was certain she'd see a fist fight of violent proportions ensue.  But Nick simply headed for the schoolhouse as though nothing happened. 

 

     For now Miss Wellington filed the incident away in the back of her mind.  She led Heath to the bench seat he'd share with the Manners twins, then walked to the front of the class.  The young teacher opened her Bible and instructed everyone to stand.  They began the day by saying the 23rd Psalm. She watched Heath stand with his classmates, though his mouth didn't move throughout the entire recitation.  A lesser teacher might have called the child on his seeming defiance, but Miss Wellington didn't.

 

     After all, how could she discipline a little boy who was trying so hard not to cry?             

    

 

BV    BV    BV    BV    BV    BV   

       

               

     The next morning Heath and Nick rode to school on their horses.  Tom Barkley wasn't certain if that's what Heath really wanted to do.  He got the impression the boy was simply trying to please his fourteen-year old brother.

 

     "I can hitch up the wagon and we can ride into town together, Heath. Nick can go ahead on Coco if he prefers."

     "No, that's okay, Papa.  I can ride Ginger."

 

     Tom didn't debate the point further.  He thought it would be good for both boys if they traveled back and forth to school together.  Maybe some of Nick's animosity would recede if he was given the opportunity to get to know Heath on his own terms.

 

     Unbeknownst to Tom, Nick had no intention of getting to know Heath.  He dug his heals into Coco's sides and stayed thirty feet ahead of his brother throughout the entire trip to school.  The boys tied their horses to a hitching post under a shade tree.  Nick went and got a bucket of water from the well in order to fill the trough while Heath readied the feed pouches they'd brought along.  The horses were tended to in silence.  When the animals had been watered and the feed pouches attached to their halters the boys retrieved their books and lunch tins from their saddlebags. 

 

     George Barnsworth ran by them.  He knocked Heath in the back of the head with his fist while calling to Nick.

 

     "Hey, Barkley, come on!  Let's get a game of stickball going!  Leave the work to the kid!  After all, no one's gonna want to play with him anyway!"     

 

     Heath bent down to pick up his cowboy hat.  By the time he had it settled back on his head Nick was playing ball with the older boys. 

 

     George had fun at Heath's expense throughout the day.  The boy was tripped on his way to the blackboard, his lunch bucket was hidden and his horse untied.  Fortunately Ginger had been coming to Stockton's school since Jarrod was boy so didn't wander more than a few feet from Coco.

 

     At the end of that second day Heath passed George on his way down the schoolhouse steps.  The older boy matched strides with the younger.

 

     "So, kid, when Miss Wellington takes roll I hear her call you Heath Barkley.  But Barkley ain't your real name now, is it?  I hear tell your name is Heath Thomson.  And if it's Heath Thomson, how can you go around claimin' to be a Barkley?  'Course everyone knows the Barkleys got loads of money so maybe you're not as dumb as you look, huh?  As a matter of fact you might be one of the luckiest little bastards around.  On the other hand, I bet Mrs. Barkley ain't none too happy you showed up.   I hear tell she don't like you one bit.  Not that anyone can blame her.  You're living proof that her husband had himself some big time fun outside the sacred marital bed.  Whatta ya' got to say about that?"

 

     Heath kept his eyes on the ground as he walked toward Ginger.

 

     George back peddled in front of the eight year old and rammed a fist into his shoulder.

 

"What was that?  I didn't hear you."

 

     Again Heath made no reply.

    

"What's the problem?  Are you the family retard?  Man, wouldn't that be something.  Everyone's brags on Jarrod cause he's got more brains than just about anyone in Stockton, and Nick...well Nick ain't far behind Jarrod in the smarts department, that's for sure.  And everyone knows Tom Barkley ain't no dummy.  But I do say it looks like he got himself a dummy for a bastard son."

 

     George pushed Heath backwards.  The boy stumbled over his feet.  Before he could regain his balance he was pushed again.  Two more hard shoves landed him on his rear end in the dirt.

 

     A thick wad of spittle kicked up the dust by Heath's head.  George sneered down at the blond. 
     "You really are a retard, you know that?"

 

     It wasn't Nick who came to Heath's aid, but rather his new friends Raleigh and Rhodes.  Raleigh helped him to his feet while Rhodes collected Heath’s schoolbooks.  Nick made no comment about what he'd seen happen until he and Heath were stabling their horses at the Barkley ranch.  As the teenager was walking out of the barn he turned.

 

     "You're going to have to learn to take care of yourself against the likes of George Barnsworth, ‘cause if you think I'm gonna get in a fight for you you'd better think again."

 

     Heath watched his brother until Nick disappeared into the house.  The boy let out a heavy sigh, then finished currying Ginger. 

 

BV    BV    BV    BV    BV    BV   

 

           

 

     Two weeks after Heath started school Miss Wellington paid the Barkley ranch a visit on a Saturday afternoon.

     Silas motioned Victoria to stay seated as he passed through the parlor on the way to the door.  

 

     "Miss Wellington," the black man greeted.  "Won't you come in, ma’am?"

     Victoria set her book down on the coffee table and stood.  She met the young teacher    half way across the foyer floor, briefly clasping her hand. 

 

     "Miss Wellington.  How nice to see you."

 

     "It's nice to see you, too, Mrs. Barkley.  And I do apologize for dropping by without an invitation."

 

     "You never need an invitation to drop by my home and you know it."

 

     Victoria turned to Silas.  "Please put on some tea, Silas.  And bring a tray of cookies."

 

     "Yes, ma'am."

     "There's no need to go to any trouble on my behalf, Mrs. Barkley."

 

     "It's no trouble at all," Silas assured the woman for his mistress.

 

     Victoria led the teacher to the sofa. 

 

     "I hope I didn't come at a bad time."

 

     "No.  Not at all.  Audra is upstairs napping and Tom is in the study reading the latest Cattlemen’s Journal.  But if you're here to see the boys I'm afraid you've missed them.  Nick is tracking down strays with some of the hands and Heath is playing with Rhodes and Raleigh over at the Manners ranch."

 

     "Actually I'm glad to hear that.  I wanted to talk to you and Mr. Barkley alone."

 

     "Oh?"

 

     "Yes.  It's about Heath."

 

     "I see."  Victoria stood.  "Wait here just a moment please while I get my husband."

     "Of course."

 

     Within seconds Victoria returned with Tom.  He shook the teacher's hand then took a seat across from her.  Victoria helped Silas carry in the tea and cookies.  She played the part of hostess, seeing that everyone got a cup of tea and plate of sugar cookies.  The trio made small talk while they enjoyed the snack.  Tom waited until the teacher had finished her tea and refused seconds before broaching the reason behind her visit.

 

     "My wife tells me you wanted to speak to us about Heath."      

 

     "Yes, I did.  Though now that I'm here I...well I hope I'm not overstepping my bounds."

 

     "Overstepping your bounds?"

 

     "Yes.  By coming here to tell you what I've observed."

     Tom smiled in an attempt to put the young woman at ease.

 

"You're Heath's teacher.  It's your place to tell us, as his parents, what you've observed.  I hope he's not causing you any trouble."

"Heath?" 

    

Victoria heard the astonishment in the teacher's tone.

 

     "Oh my goodness no.  He's such a sweet child.  And just as smart as his school records from Strawberry indicate.   A little on the shy side, but I suppose that's normal considering he's come to a new school in the middle of the term."

 

     "He's a little on the shy side here at home, too," Tom said.  "But then I suppose that's normal considering we're new to him as well."

 

     "You can rest assured Heath's school work has been exemplary.  I don't believe you'll have reason to be concerned in that area."

     "Then where do we have reason to be concerned?"  Victoria asked.

     "I...I don't know if you have reason to be concerned at all.  However, as you know the well-being of my pupils is of the utmost importance to me.  So again, forgive me if I'm overstepping my bounds by coming here today."

 

     "You don't need to be forgiven for anything, Kathleen," Tom assured.  "Why don't you simply tell Victoria and me what's on your mind."

     The woman thought a long moment before speaking. 

 

"Perhaps I've been misleading when I say my concern is for Heath.  Actually, I've come to speak to you about Nick as well."

 

     "Nick?"

     "Yes.  As both of you know I've broken up several fights between Nick and George Barnsworth during my year and half at the school."

 

     Victoria tried not to smile.  "As have all the teachers prior to your arrival."

 

     "Yes...well...I know this is going to sound rather absurd, but what has me upset this time is the fact that Nick isn't fighting with George."

     Tom cocked his head.  "Pardon?"

     "Though I try hard to like all my pupils, I must admit George is a trail.  I'm told every school has a George Barnsworth.  A mean-spirited bully shall we say."

     "Yes," Tom nodded,  "if I recall my own school days correctly I would have to agree with that statement."

 

     "Therefore, it will probably come as no surprise to you that George has taken to picking on Heath.  He started the first day Heath was with us and he has yet to let up."

     "Picking on Heath how?"  Victoria asked.

 

     "Shoving him.  Tripping him.  Untying his horse.  Hiding his lunch bucket, things of that nature.  The frustrating part of it is I rarely see George do these things.  He's a sneaky boy who knows how to cause trouble on the sly.  Nonetheless, I have no doubt George is the instigator behind these pranks.  And I've heard him say some nasty things to Heath out on the school yard."

     "Nasty things?"  Tom asked.  "What kind of nasty things?"

     The teacher's eyes flicked to Victoria.  "Just...things."

     "Miss Wellington...Kathleen," Victoria smiled.  "You can repeat whatever it is you've heard.  You won't offend me or my husband by telling us what George has been saying to Heath."

 

     "He. . ."  Kathleen didn't know how to start.  After all, Heath was the product of Tom Barkley's affair.  How could she lay such a sensitive subject on the table in a diplomatic way?

 

     "Go ahead, Kathleen," Victoria urged.  "Tell us please.  We can't help Heath unless you do."

     The young woman nodded.  "George...he teases Heath about his parentage.  I've heard George call him the 'Barkley retard' and the 'Barkley mistake'.  Mind you this has never been done in the schoolhouse, but always before or after class out in the yard.  I have spoken to George about it but that only seems to make matters worse.  I've contemplated punishing him, but I'm afraid he'll only lash out more severely at Heath if I do."

 

     Tom shifted in his chair and set his cup on the coffee table.  "And where has Nick been when all this is going on?" 

 

     "Out on the schoolyard as well."

 

     "So he's heard and observed the same things you have."

     "Yes."

 

     "And that's why you've come to talk to us today," Tom said.  "You're upset because Nick isn't defending his brother's honor.  Because Nick is allowing George to have his say."

     "Yes.  Though I'm not blaming Nick.  Like I said, I can hardly punish Nick for not fighting with George.  I just find it...odd that he isn't."

 

     Tom chewed on his lower lip a long time.  He had no immediate solution to offer the teacher.  She seemed to sense as much and rose.

 

     "I've taken up enough of your Saturday afternoon.  I must be going.  I promised Mr. and Mrs. Harris I'd come for supper this evening."

     Tom stood and shook the teacher's hand.  "Thank you for coming all the way out here to speak with us.  I appreciate your insight."

 

     "You're welcome.  And I can assure you I'll keep an eye on George where Heath is concerned.  I try to look out for all my students, but with twenty-six that task isn't always as easy as I'd like it to be."

 

     "No, I'm sure it's not.  Which is exactly why Heath has an older brother who should be looking out for him."

     "Please don't come down too hard on Nick, Mr. Barkley.  Like I said, we can't really fault him for not getting into a fight.  I'm sure this situation has been difficult on him."  The teacher's face reddened as she realized her slip of the tongue.  "On all of you."

     Victoria stood and put an arm around the young woman's shoulders.

 

"Yes, it has been difficult for Nick no doubt.  And don't you worry; we don't blame him for anything.  Like my husband said, we appreciate you coming out here to talk to us.  Now why don't you pencil in dinner right here on the Barkley ranch for next Saturday night.  We'd love to have you come on a social visit.  Nick really enjoyed it the last time you were here.  I'm sure both he and Heath will want to engage you in a game of checkers while hearing all about life in New York City."

 

     "Thank you, Mrs. Barkley.  As always, you're too kind."

 

     Victoria led the teacher to the door.  When it had closed behind the woman she turned to see her husband staring into the fireplace.  She walked up beside him and snaked an arm around his waist.

 

     "What are you thinking?"

     "That my foolish actions have caused an eight year old boy an untold amount of pain.  That my foolish actions have caused a fourteen year old boy an untold amount of pain."  The man planted a light kiss in his wife's hair.  "And that my foolish actions have caused the woman I love an untold amount of pain."

     The couple stood together until Victoria heard a wail from above. 

 

     "It sounds like Audra's awake.  What are you going to say to Nick when he gets home?"

     "Nothing."

 

     "Nothing?"

     "I can't make him fight for Heath, Victoria.  As much as I hate to say this I can't make him love his little brother.  Those are things Nick will be drawn to do naturally in time, or they won't be.  I can't predict what the future holds for any of us.  And if anyone should be punished for this heartache it should be me."

     Without saying another word Tom walked away from his wife, his shoulders slumped in sorrow and defeat.  He entered his study and closed the door.  

 

     Victoria hesitated before climbing the stairs to Audra.  She wanted to offer her husband comfort, but had no idea what words to say that hadn't already been said many times since Heath arrived.

 

 

BV    BV    BV    BV    BV    BV   

 

            

 

     Heath had been with the Barkley family two months as Christmas approached.  He continued to excel in school, though his problems with George Barnsworth hadn’t ceased.  Yet Heath never spoke of the bully to Tom, nor how much it hurt him when Nick pretended not to hear George's teasing.

 

     Despite Victoria's best efforts Heath remained aloof in her presence.  She had been certain that by now he would have come to accept her as his surrogate mother.   Yet he never spoke to her unless she spoke to him first, and he never allowed himself to be in the house alone with her.

 

     Aside from Tom, Audra, and Silas, the only other members of the Barkley household Heath appeared to be comfortable with were Jarrod's dogs and their offspring.  Without fail he fed and watered the brood every morning and every evening.  If he wasn't playing with the puppies, or cleaning horse stalls, then he could be found in the tack room straightening and sweeping.    

 

     On December twenty-second Tom hitched up the buggy and went to town to meet Jarrod's train.  Silas and Victoria worked together in the kitchen cooking all Jarrod's favorite foods.  Nick lingered around the house and ranch yard, anxiously awaiting his older brother's arrival while Heath retreated to the barn without anyone noticing he was gone.

 

     At the first sight of the black buggy entering through the main gates Nick raced into the steamed filled kitchen. 

 

"They're coming, Mother!  They're coming!"

 

     Victoria scooped Audra up off the floor.  She was four steps behind Nick all the way to the front door.

 

     Jarrod had barely emerged from the buggy before he was thrown backwards by the force of Nick's body. 

 

     "Jarrod!  Jarrod!"

 

     "Easy there," Jarrod laughed while engulfing his younger brother in a bear hug.  When he finally got the teenager to loosen his grip he took a step back with his hands firmly grasping Nick’s upper arms.

 

     "Nicholas, you've grown a foot since I left for school.  I do believe you'll be taller than me when I come back again next summer."

 

     Before Nick could reply Victoria launched herself into the arms of her eldest child.

 

     "Jarrod!  Oh, sweetheart, it's so good to see you!  We've missed you so much!"

 

     "I've missed you, too, Mother."  The young man gave his mother a  kiss and long hug, then tweaked Audra's nose.  "And look how big this beautiful little doll has gotten."

 

     The baby held her arms out to her big brother.  She let Jarrod take her from their mother, laughing and shrieking as he lifted her high above his head.

 

     While Jarrod played with the little girl Tom asked,  "Where's Heath?"

     "I don't know."  Victoria looked at Nick.  "Was Heath in the house?"

 

     "No."

 

     Tom took a few steps from the buggy.  "He's probably in the barn."  The man cupped his hands over his mouth. 

 

"Heath!  Heath!"

 

     Just the hint of a blond head peered around a barn door.

 

     "Heath, come here please."

 

     Heath's steps were slow and tentative, eyes downcast, as if he wasn't sure how he'd be greeted by this 'new' brother.  Jarrod met him half way across the yard and held out his hand.

 

     "It's nice to finally get to meet you, Heath.  I've heard so much about you." 

 

     Heath's eyes never lifted from the toes of Jarrod's boots as he mumbled,  "Nice to meet you, too."

 

     Jarrod exchanged a smile with his father, then crouched down.  He placed two fingers under Heath's chin and gently urged the child to look at him.

 

     "There now.  That's better.  I couldn't see anything but the top of your head.  My, my, my, but don't you look like Grandpa Barkley."

 

     "I don't know.” Heath shrugged his shoulders.  “I haven't met him yet.  But maybe I kind of look like Audra."

 

     "As a matter of fact I was just thinking that same thing myself.  I can't wait to go back to school and tell my friends what a handsome young brother I have."  Jarrod stood and took Heath's hand in his.  "Father says you've been taking care of Chief and Cheyenne for me."

 

     "Yes.  And their puppies, too.  I hope that's all right."

 

     "It is, and I thank you for it."

 

     "I named the puppies, but if you don't like their names you can change them."

 

     "I'm sure I'll like them.  Why don't you show them to me while you tell me all about them."

     Heath kept his hand in Jarrod’s as he led the college man toward the barn.  He began describing the offspring of the animals Jarrod had bought from a fur trader the previous summer despite Tom’s good-natured protests that two sled dogs would be of little use on a cattle ranch.

 

     "First there's Shone,” Heath said.  “She's a girl and she's very sweet.  Then there's Wolf.  I named him that because he's always stealing food from his brothers and sisters.  The comes White Foot because he has four white paws, then Bear because he's fat and round and clumsy like a grizzly bear, then Little Maiden just because she's tiny and real pretty.  I gave all of them Indian names because of Chief and Cheyenne."

 

     "I couldn't have picked better names myself.  I can't wait to meet them."

 

     "I just finished feeding them and cleaning their pen.  I wanted them to look nice for you as a welcome home present."

 

     Jarrod gave Heath's hand a squeeze.  "That's very kind of you, Heath.  I appreciate your thoughtfulness."

 

     The conversation faded as the two entered the barn.  Tom turned and smiled at Victoria.

 

     "It looks like Jarrod has already made a life long friend."

 

     Though inside Victoria was hurting at Heath's instant attachment to Jarrod, she gave her husband a smile in return.  "Yes, it does.  But then that doesn't surprise me.  Jarrod has his father's gift when it comes to putting people at ease."

 

     Nick scowled as he reached into the back of the buggy and retrieved Jarrod's bags.  "I sure hope he doesn't plan to spend his entire vacation with Heath.  I was his brother first, you know."

     "Yes, Nick," Tom stated quietly, "we know.  And believe me, Jarrod knows that as well.  He has plenty of activities planned for just the two of you.  But please, allow him some time to get acquainted with Heath and Heath with him."

 

     At the word 'activities' Nick perked up.

 

     "Activities?  What kind of activities?"

 

     "Oh, I don't know.  He mentioned something about the two of you going to the dance in town next Saturday evening.  And he said he got an invitation to a New Year's Eve party at the Hansens' ranch that includes you."

 

     Jarrod had been courting Melinda Hansen before he went to college.  Nick was sweet on her youngest sister, Emily, who was in his class at school; though he was under the assumption his family was unaware of this last fact.

 

     "Yeah.  Yeah, I guess I would like to go to that party with Jarrod.  Does Heath have to come with us?"

     "No," Victoria shook her head.  "The party is for young adults only.  Franklin Manners was invited as well.  Your father and I have asked Mr. and Mrs. Manners to come here for the evening.  We'll have our own little party with Heath, the twins, and Audra."

 

     "Good."

 

     Nick trotted into the house with Jarrod's bags.  Tom put an arm around his wife and daughter. 

 

     "It's good to see Nick happy again.  I knew having Jarrod home would help settle him down."

 

     "Yes, Jarrod has that effect on people.  Which is exactly why he'll make an outstanding lawyer." 

 

     "I expect nothing less from him."  Tom kissed his wife's temple.  "But then he was raised by a wonderful mother.  All the credit for the man he's become belongs to you and you alone."

 

     "I wouldn't go quite that far, Tom Barkley."

     "Don't even bother to argue with me, lady, because it will do you not one ounce of good."

 

     "All right, if you put it that way I won't."  Victoria turned for the house.  "I need to help Silas finish the meal preparations.  Your job is to make sure all your sons are gathered around the table promptly at six p.m."

 

     "All my sons," Tom smiled.  "That sounds wonderful."

     With Christmas only three days away Victoria hoped things would remain wonderful throughout Jarrod's stay with them.  Not that she had any concerns about her oldest son, but Nick was so jealous of Heath, and if Heath took to Jarrod and started tagging along after him...Victoria gave her head a mental shake.  There was no use borrowing trouble. 

 

     Victoria watched as Tom disappeared into the barn.  Nick flew out the front door and headed in that direction as well.  The woman smiled to herself, wondering if she'd be able to keep track of four males throughout the next two weeks.  She turned to her daughter.

 

     "I do believe we'll have our work cut out for us, Audra."

 

 

BV    BV    BV    BV    BV    BV   

 

             

          

     For the first time since Heath had been with them supper was a merry event.  When Jarrod saw the platters of food that stretched from one end of the dining table to the other he declared his mother and Silas had already cooked the Christmas feast.  Jarrod's tales of college life kept everyone spellbound.  He had a way of telling a story that made you laugh long before the punch line arrived.

 

     When it came time for Heath to go to bed it was Jarrod who carried him up the stairs and read him a story.  Tom engaged Nick in a game of checkers until Jarrod returned. 

 

     Tom looked up as his eldest entered the parlor.

 

     "Heath asleep?"

     "Sure is.  He conked out half way through the book.  I'll have to finish reading it to him tomorrow evening." 

 

     It didn't surprise Victoria when Jarrod seemed to sense Nick was now in need of his undivided attention.  He clapped the fourteen year old on the back.

 

     "Come on, Nicholas.  Let's go see if there's any cake left out in the kitchen.  Then you and I and Father can play a few hands of cards before we call it a night."

 

     Victoria smiled at her oldest from where she sat rocking her youngest.  Jarrod pointed a finger at her. 

 

     "And I'd like to request a private audience with you tomorrow, madam."

 

     "I will grant you that request, kind sir, and look forward to your visit."

 

     Victoria remained in the rocking chair with Audra sleeping on her shoulder.  From her position she could see the card players at the dining room table.  She hated herself for the thought that flitted through her mind when Nick laughed and teased his father over the poor hand Tom had just played.

 

     This is just like how it used to be before Heath came to us.  Nick was so happy. 

 

     We...we were all so happy.

    

 

BV    BV    BV    BV    BV    BV   

              

    

     The family gathered together for breakfast the next morning.  Tom pushed his empty plate aside and looked at Jarrod.

 

     "What plans do you have for today?"

     "If you don't need my help with anything specific I thought I'd go riding with my brothers."

     Nick looked up from his eggs.  "Heath, too?"   

     Jarrod cocked a teasing eyebrow.  “I believe I said ‘my brothers’, Nick.  As in plural.  So yes, Heath is included, too.”

 

     “Aw, Jarrod, come on.  Why can’t it just be you and--

 

     Victoria cleared her throat and shot Nick a pointed look.  Tom’s eyes slid to Heath.  The youngster was staring down at his plate, the expression on his shadowed face saying he wished he wasn’t once again the source of conflict in his new home.

 

     Nick started over, attempting to present his case with a bit more diplomacy and tact.

 

     “What I mean is, Heath won’t be able to keep up with us. You know how poky Ginger is.”

     “Then Heath and I will ride double on Jingo.”

 

     “But I wanted to show you the new breeding stock Father and I bought in September.”

 

     “And you can’t show me that with Heath along?”

 

     “It’s not that.  It’s just that...well, it’s just that I thought you and I were going to spend some time together.”  Nick glared at the top of Heath’s head.  “Alone.”

 

     “We will.”  Jarrod took a sip of his coffee.  “As a matter of fact I was planning on you accompanying me into Stockton tonight.”

 

     “For what?”

     “Supper at the Cattlemen’s Hotel then a trip to the

General Store.”

 

     “The General Store?”

 

     “I need to finish my Christmas shopping.”

 

     “Oh. Oh...okay.  Yeah.  That sounds like fun.”

 

     Tom smiled.  “Good idea, Jarrod.  I’ll dare to go out on a limb and guess Nick hasn’t even begun his shopping yet.”

 

     The man wiped his mouth with a napkin.  He stood and kissed the top of Heath’s head as he passed. 

 

     “Have fun with your brothers today.”

 

     “Yes, sir.”

 

     He kissed Victoria on the mouth, then gave Audra’s jam covered cheek a peck.  When he came to Jarrod he squeezed the young man’s shoulders while saying quietly in one ear,  “Thank you.  You’re a lifesaver.”

 

     Nick’s hair got a thorough tousling next, then Tom was out the door. Victoria instructed Heath and Nick to help Silas clear the table. She sat and visited with Jarrod until the task was complete.  Nick kissed her right cheek and Jarrod her left as they passed on their way to the barn.  She didn’t get the opportunity to say goodbye to Heath.  He’d left the house while Nick and Jarrod had Victoria occupied.  That didn’t surprise the woman.  Heath was good at slinking by her unnoticed.

 

     Victoria shook Heath from her mind.  With only two days to go until Christmas she had an abundance of jobs to accomplish. She wiped off Audra’s hands and face, then plucked the baby from the highchair.

 

     “Come on, Mama’s girl.  Let’s get a head start on those cookies we need to bake.”

 

 

BV    BV    BV    BV    BV    BV

 

 

     Audra sat on the kitchen floor gurgling at her reflection in a tin pie plate.  Victoria smiled down at the content little girl while wiping a strand of hair out of her face.  She had just pulled a hot batch of cookies from the oven when she felt a pair of lips kiss her cheek.

 

     “Looks like I’m just in time to enjoy some Christmas cheer.”

 

     The woman smiled at her oldest son.  “That you are. Pour yourself a glass of milk and have a seat at the

table.”

 

     Jarrod did as his mother ordered.  She took three ginger bread men from the cooling rack and placed them on a plate.  She sat down next to her son, enjoying the opportunity to have time alone with him. The heady smells of cinnamon and nutmeg warmed the room, making it feel like Christmas had already arrived.  Or so Jarrod said in-between bites of his cookies.

 

     “Where are your brothers?”

 

     “Nick rode on to the upper pasture to help Father sort cattle.  Heath’s out in the barn taking care of Jingo - at his insistence of course.  He let me remove the saddle off for him, but he said he’d do the rest.”

 

     “He’s a hard working little boy, I’ll give him that.  I don’t believe there’s a lazy bone in that child’s body.”

 

     “Father said the same thing to me the day we rode home from the train station.”

 

     Audra crawled over and latched onto her mother’s dress. She pulled herself to her feet, then swayed back and forth on unsteady legs.  Victoria picked the baby up, setting Audra on her lap. Jarrod tore off part of a ginger bread man’s leg and handed it to his little sister.  Victoria watched the baby gum the treat for a moment then turned her attention back to her son.

 

     “Speaking of Nick and Heath, how was your ride?”

     “Great. It’s so good to be home.  I didn’t realize how much I missed the ranch until we were riding over all this wide open space.”

 

     “I’m glad to hear that.  It gives me hope that you’ll set up your law practice in Stockton when the time comes.”

 

     “I have a ways to go before I’m ready to set up a law practice.  But I don’t have any reason not to want to return home when my schooling is finished.”

 

     Victoria reached over and patted her son’s hand.  “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that.”

 

     Jarrod studied his mother over the rim of his glass.  He took a long swig of milk then set the glass aside.  He took his mother’s hand in his and squeezed.

 

     “Enough small talk.  How are you?”

 

      Victoria dipped her head, placing a kiss in Audra’s curls.  “Fine.”

 

     “Mother.”

 

     “What?”

 

     “When you answer me without making eye contact I’m led to conclude your ‘fine’ is less than an honest reply.”

 

     “You may be some years away from being a lawyer, Jarrod, but you already sound like one.”

 

     “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

 

     “That’s how it was intended.”

 

     “Mother.  Please.  The truth.  How are you with all...this?  How are you and Father?”

     “Your Father and I are weathering the storm.  Don’t worry, honey, our ship isn’t going to sink.”

 

     “You’re certain?”

 

     Victoria wormed her hand from Jarrod’s grasp.  She reached up and cupped the side of his face.

 

“I’m certain, Jarrod.”

 

 

     A soft smile touched the corners of Jarrod’s mouth. 

 

“You’re a remarkable woman, Mrs. Barkley.”

 

     “Not so remarkable really.  But you’re right about one thing.  I am a woman.  And a woman does what she has to in order to keep her family together.”

 

     Jarrod nodded.  He ate the remainder of his snack before speaking again.

 

     “That Heath sure is a likable little guy.  After Nick left us he kept up a steady stream of one-sided conversation our entire ride back here, pointing out this and that to me as though I’d been away a hundred years.”

 

     “Your father says he does the same when the two of them are alone together.”

 

     “It’s not that way when Nick’s around though, isn’t it?  Heath’s a completely different child then.  So reserved. So quiet.”

 

     “Nick’s having a difficult time adjusting to the situation.  He’s been very angry with your father.”

 

     “Yes. Father mentioned that. He said Nick’s jealous of Heath.”

 

     “Jealous of the attention Father gives Heath, yes.  Though in your father’s defense I must say he tries his best to give equal time to both the boys. He’s gone the extra mile with Nick on a number of occasions, but you know how your brother is when he gets angry.”

 

     “Nick’s got quite a temper,”  Jarrod agreed.  “He’s like Grandpa Ted and Uncle Thor in that regard.  And he can hold a grudge longer than anyone I’ve ever met.”

 

     Victoria shifted Audra in her arms.  The baby had fallen asleep.  Victoria repositioned her so the child’s head rested in the crook of her elbow.

 

     “That he can.  Truthfully, I thought by now Nick would have begun to form a friendship of sorts with Heath but that has yet to happen.”

 

     “Just like you can’t form a bond with him?”

     “Who told you that?”

 

     “No one.  But it’s quite apparent to anyone who observes the two of you, you and Heath, together.”

 

     Victoria sighed.  She was surprised to feel the lump well up in her throat.  She pushed her way around it.

 

     “He doesn’t like me.”

 

     “Heath?”

 

     “Yes.”

 

     “Has he told you that?”

     “He doesn’t have to.  He won’t have anything to do with me.  Or at least not any more than he has to.  He won’t speak to me unless I speak to him first, and then it’s only to reply ‘Yes, ma’am,’ or ‘No, ma’am.’  And heaven forbid if he were to be caught alone in the same room with me. The child must think he’ll fall over dead should that happen.”

 

     “Has Heath ever talked to Father about the reasons why he treats you that way?”

 

     “No.  To the best of my knowledge Heath doesn’t speak about me to anyone.  I don’t understand it, Jarrod. Even though Nick can be downright mean to him, Heath still makes an effort to extend friendship to Nick.  But not once, not one single time, has he shown any warmth toward me.”

 

     “Could that have something to do with his mother’s death?  Possibly he feels he’s being disloyal to her if he transfers his affection to you.”

 

     “Possibly.  Though to be honest with you Heath’s never projected any emotion close to affection toward me.  He’s very distant with me.  Even more reserved around me than he is around Nick.”

 

     Already the young lawyer, Jarrod’s brow furrowed in thought.  “Well, he could be--”

 

     Before Jarrod finished his sentence boot heels pounded through the parlor.  A young voice filled with excitement and joy sounded.

 

     “Mother!  Mother!”

 

     For a brief moment Jarrod saw his mother’s eyes shine with delight.  A smile split her face and she stood with the sleeping Audra in her arms.

 

     “Mother!  Mother!”

 

     Victoria was halfway across the kitchen floor when Heath entered. 

 

     “Moth--”  the boy came to a halt in the doorway.  He looked around, puzzlement etched on his face.  When he spotted the cookies cooling on the counter his eyes shifted to Victoria. And right before tears spilled from those eyes she saw disappointment, betrayal and sorrow. Jarrod stood, but before he got to his little brother the child turned and fled the room.

 

     Victoria started to follow the eight year old. Jarrod placed a restraining hand on her arm. 

 

     “Why don’t you put Audra in her crib while I go to Heath.”

 

     Victoria hesitated a minute before nodding. If Heath were her child she wouldn’t consider letting anyone else comfort him when he was crying.  But he wasn’t her child, and through his actions he continuously reminded her of that fact. 

 

     “Yes. Yes, you see to your brother and I’ll see to Audra.”

 

     Jarrod placed a kiss on the woman’s temple.  When he stepped back Victoria said, “You saw it too, didn’t you?  The disappointment in his eyes when he came face to face with me.  The same disappointment I always see in his eyes when he looks at me.”

 

     What Jarrod wanted to say was, ‘No, I didn’t see it.  What I saw was a little boy who’s devastated over the loss of his mother.  A little boy who doesn’t understand why he’s living in this house full of strangers.  But most importantly what I saw was the love shining from your eyes when you thought he was calling for you.  The love, and then the hurt when you realized it wasn’t you he wanted.’

 

     But Jarrod didn’t say any of those things because he knew his mother was already aware of them.  Had probably mulled them over a thousand times since Heath came to the Barkley ranch. 

 

     Jarrod walked out of the kitchen. Victoria trailed him with Audra in her arms.  Ten minutes later Victoria stepped out of the nursery just as Jarrod stepped from Heath’s room.  He closed the door behind himself and didn’t speak until he and his mother were in the parlor.

 

     “Did Heath tell you what upset him?”

 

     “No,” Jarrod shook his head.  “He wouldn’t say.  He wouldn’t talk to me at all.  He wouldn’t allow me to comfort him in any way.  There wasn’t much else I could do but tell him that I’d always be willing to listen if he ever wants to discuss whatever it is that’s hurting him.”

 

     “You couldn’t do anymore than that, Jarrod.”

 

     “I know.  But when my little brother is crying as though his heart is breaking what I had to offer doesn’t seem like much.”

 

     Victoria gave her son a sad smile.  “Now you know how I feel.”

 

     “Yes.”  Jarrod’s answer was quiet, thoughtful, and full of new respect. “Yes, Mother, I guess I do.”

                                      

 

BV    BV    BV    BV    BV    BV

 

              

          
     By nine o’clock on the morning of Christmas Eve the Barkley house was filled with smells that indicated the coming days would bring an abundance of food to the table.  Victoria and Silas popped pan after pan of popcorn for stringing while the Barkley men were out cutting down the tree. A twelve-foot tall evergreen was in a stand in the corner of the parlor by noon.  After lunch everyone gathered to decorate the massive beauty.

 

     Though Heath participated in stringing popcorn and cranberries, Victoria noticed he sat by himself on the floor in the far corner of the room.  Even coaxing from Tom couldn’t draw him closer to the family circle. His head remained bent over his task, his concentration seemingly focused on the job he was doing.

 

     The joy of the holidays and the fun of decorating the tree soon had the rest of the Barkleys reminiscing about past Christmases.  They laughed when Jarrod reminded them of the time the tree fell on Nick, when the then seven year old couldn’t resist sneaking down the stairs and poking around after Santa Claus had come to call. 

 

     “I’ll never forget being woken up at two in the morning to Nick’s scream,” Tom said with a twinkle in his eye.  “Mother and I thought he’d been sleepwalking and had fallen down the stairs.  Instead we found him pinned under the evergreen, his arms and legs flailing in six different directions.”

 

     Nick talked about the year his favorite uncle had been with them for the holidays.

 

     “When Uncle Thor visited us that year it was like having our very own Santa Claus right here in the house,”  Nick said.

 

     “Yes, it was,” Victoria agree. Her robust, sandy haired brother-in-law never spoke in anything less than a rumbling shout and loved to laugh until tears rolled down his cheeks.

 

     Tom looked at his two oldest sons.  “And I seem to recall a Christmas when two boys beat Santa Claus to his cookies.”

 

     “We couldn’t help it,” Nick grinned.  “Jarrod and I got hungry waiting for him to come.”

 

     It was only after an hour had passed and Heath walked over to fill his bowl with more popcorn that Victoria realized how left out he must feel.  He hadn’t said a word while his family had talked, but then he rarely did when they gathered as one. 

 

     “Heath,” Victoria said, “why don’t you share some memories with us about special Christmases you had.”

 

     The boy refused to meet Victoria’s eyes.

 

     “No, thank you.”

 

     Heath turned with his bowl and reseated himself in the corner.

 

     Tom looked from his wife to his youngest son.  What did the boy mean?  That he had no memories of past Christmases that he deemed special, or that he felt the memories he had of times spent with his mother were not welcome in this house, or was he simply being rude?

 

     “Heath?”

 

     The eight year old looked across the room at his father, his face a neutral mask.

 

     When the child didn’t break the heavy silence that prevailed Tom decided to let things drop.  He didn’t want the holiday ruined for the rest of his family.  If Heath chose to sit by himself and not participate when invited to, then so be it.

 

     “Nothing.”  Tom forced himself to smile.  “You go back to what you were doing.”

 

     Nick rolled his eyes at Jarrod and whispered,  “He ruins everything that’s supposed to be fun.”

 

     Victoria shot her fourteen year old a look that clearly said, “That’s enough, Nicholas.”

 

     Silas was the family’s saving grace.  Whether by accident or design he chose that moment to appear with a plate of fudge and a pitcher of milk.  If nothing else the refreshments diverted everyone’s attention for a little while. 

 

     It was late in the afternoon before the work on the tree was declared finished.  Victoria couldn’t wait until night came and the children were in bed.  She and Tom would light the candles on the evergreen then sit together by the fire and enjoy its beauty.  It had been five years since she had a youngster in her home that believed in Santa Claus. Not that Heath had talked to her about the jolly old elf, but she had seen him writing a letter to Santa at the dining room table one evening several weeks back.  She heard him ask Tom for a stamp later that night.  Tom had done his best to get Heath to turn the letter over to him to mail, but the boy refused.  He insisted he’d drop it off at the post office on his way to school, which was exactly what he did.  That left Tom and Victoria guessing as to what to put under the tree for him.  In the end they drew on their experience as parents of two sons and bought the kinds of things all eight-year old boys like.  A whittling knife, a wooden whistle, a set of jacks, a card game, a kite, and additional cars for Heath’s train were just some of what he’d find under the tree on Christmas morning.

 

     For the time being Victoria reminded her men they had to hurry through chores and then take turns in the bathtub.  For ten years now Tom and Victoria had hosted a cookout on Christmas Eve for the ranch hands and their families. A steer and two pigs had been roasting all day in the pits behind the barn.  By sundown tables would be piled high with food and drink.  At midnight everyone would join together to sing Silent Night, then the party would draw to a close.

 

BV    BV    BV    BV    BV    BV

              

 

     At quarter to one Christmas morning Jarrod walked into the house. He found his parents exactly where he knew he would, sitting together on the hearth of the fireplace.  The glow from the fire and the flickering flames of the tree’s candles were the only lights shining in the house.

 

     Tom smiled up at his oldest.  “Did the last of the party goers finally call it a night?”

     “Yes, and this party goer plans to do the same.  Are Nick and Heath in bed?”

 

     “Nick went up a few minutes ago,”  Tom said.  “I brought Heath in about eleven.  I found him asleep in the barn with Chief’s tribe.”

     “So that’s where he disappeared to.”

 

     “It would seem so.”

 

     Jarrod raised a questioning eyebrow, but his father chose not to elaborate.  With the gaggles of excited children running around during the party it had been a long time before anyone noted Heath’s absence.  The first Jarrod knew of the boy’s disappearance was when his father came up to him and Nick at ten-thirty and asked if they’d seen Heath.  Both young men shook their heads no, Jarrod offering to help look for his youngest brother.

 

     “No,” his father had replied.  “You boys continue with your fun.  I’ll find him.”

 

     When Tom was out of earshot Nick turned to Jarrod. 

 

“See.  What did I tell you?  That kid ruins every good time we’ve tried to have since he got here.”

     “Perhaps you should have a bit more sympathy for his plight, Brother Nick.  After all, this is his first Christmas without his mother, and the first with his new family.”
    

“You already sound like a lawyer, you know that?  Father’s sure getting his money’s worth outta your fancy schooling.”

    

That’s when Nick poked Jarrod in the stomach and took off running.  Jarrod raced after him, thoughts of Heath pushed from his mind as he plotted playful revenge against his fourteen-year old brother.

     Jarrod came back to the present when his mother said,  “Father found Heath so that’s all that matters.  We can hardly punish him for being in the barn, now can we?”

 

     Jarrod studied his parents a long moment.  He could tell the adjustment of a new child to their family was turning out to be as hard on them as it was on Heath.

 

     “No, I don’t think we can punish him for that,” was all Jarrod said.  He smiled and bent to kiss his mother on the forehead.  “Goodnight.”

 

     “Goodnight, Jarrod.”

 

     “Goodnight, son.”

 

     When he heard Jarrod’s bedroom door shut Tom pulled his wife close to his side.  He ran a hand through her hair and kissed her temple.

 

     “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Barkley.  And thank you.”

     “For what?”

 

     “For everything.  Standing beside me through good times and bad.  Weathering my mistakes.  Welcoming Heath to our family.  You’re my one-in-a-million gal.”

 

     Victoria made no reply to the compliments.  She had to admit that this year, more than any other, they were deserved.

 

     The couple stood and went to the study.  Presents were pulled from the huge locked closet across from Tom’s desk and carried to the parlor.  Victoria filled six stockings then hung them on the fireplace mantel while Tom piled gifts under the tree. 

 

     The couple sat enjoying their handiwork until the fire burned low. At two a.m. Victoria finally suggested they go to bed.  She almost added,  “No doubt Heath will have us up at the crack of dawn,” but somehow she knew that wasn’t true.  She couldn’t picture her subdued stepson flying down the stairs with joy to see what Santa had left him.

 

     As she and Tom walked hand in hand up the stairs Victoria offered a silent prayer heavenward.

 

     Please, Lord, just let today be free of upsets for all of us.  Just this one day of all days.

 

 

BV    BV    BV    BV    BV    BV

              

           

 

     Heath wasn’t sure what woke him.  He sat up in bed, confused for a moment as to how he got here.  The last thing he remembered was laying against Cheyenne’s soft side while her puppies clambered all over him. 

 

     The boy listened for other sounds in the household.  All was silent, leading him to believe the party had come to an end and everyone was asleep.  He rolled toward the nightstand by the side of his bed and opened a drawer.  He grabbed the gifts he’d been hiding for weeks and threw the covers back.  His flannel nightshirt swirled around his calves as he crept to the door.  He opened it without making a sound, then peered into the hallway. The door that led to his father’s room was shut, as was the one to Nick’s room and the nursery.  Jarrod’s room he couldn’t see from here, it was around the corner, but no lights shone from the lower story meaning Heath felt it safe to descend.

 

     The glow of the fireplace led the eight year old to the parlor. A wide grin split Heath’s face when he caught sight of the bulging stockings and the presents piled under the tree.  Santa Claus had come!  He’d really come again! 

 

     Santa hadn’t visited Heath in several years now.  The boy was glad to find out that this year of all years, Santa had put Heath back on his list.

 

     The boy stopped in front of the bright red stocking that had his name embroidered on it.  Santa must have brought the stocking with him.  Heath never had a stocking when he lived in Strawberry.

 

     The boy quaked with anticipation.  He absently laid the gifts he carried under the tree, then stood and parted the branches.  He craned his head, looking left and right.  He circled the tree, even squeezing behind it where it brushed up against the wall.  He looked, and looked, and looked, then thought, The kitchen!  That’s where he’d leave my present.  In the kitchen ‘cause we always had so much fun in our kitchen at home. 

 

     Heath thought of the gingerbread cookies his mother used to bake and how their aroma made their little house in Strawberry smell so good. Just like the kitchen in this house had smelled the other day when he thought his mother had come back to him.

 

     The boy ran into the cold, dark room.  He navigated without the aid of light, feeling every chair.  He moved to the cook stove, then to the wall that held the cabinets.  When Heath finally determined there was no one present but himself he caught his lower lip between his teeth to keep from crying out his anguish.  He fled through the dining room, parlor, and out into the foyer.  When he came to the stairs he forced his steps to slow.  He had to get back to his room as quietly as he’d left it.  He didn’t want to face these people he lived with now.  He couldn’t bear to see the sorrow on his father’s face, or the pity on Jarrod’s, or the anger on Nick’s.  And her...well her, the one he called ‘ma’am’, he didn’t want to see at all.

 

     Once again Heath laid alone in his room and cried like he had done many a night since arriving on the Barkley ranch.

 

BV    BV    BV    BV    BV    BV

 

            

 

     Victoria was correct in her assumption that it wouldn’t be Heath waking them at dawn.  Yet neither had she imagined it would be her oldest son leading the charge for the Christmas tree.

 

     Ever since he was a little boy Jarrod had been so in-tune to the feelings of those around him.  Therefore his instincts must have told him if this Christmas was going to be a joyful one, it was up to him to start it off on the right note. 

 

     Jarrod roused Nick from his bed at six that morning.  The fourteen year old did some good natured grumbling which prompted a brief pillow fight, but he was soon pulling on a pair of socks, pants and a shirt.  Jarrod dragged Nick along to the nursery where baby Audra was sitting up in her crib playing with a rag doll.  She smiled and held her arms out to her big brother. 

 

     “Pee u,” Nick held his nose.  “Take her to Mother.”

 

     “I think we can give Mother a little break from diaper duty on this day of all days.”

 

     “Maybe you can, but don’t count me in on that idea.”

 

     Jarrod carried the baby to the table his mother used for diaper changing and dressing.  “I’ll handle the diaper, you find her a dress and some socks.”

 

     Nick was willing to do that much for his baby sister.  In ten minutes time the little girl was clean, dressed, and had a fresh ribbon in her hair though admittedly the green bow tilted farther to the left than it should have.

 

     Jarrod passed Audra to Nick as he hurried to Heath’s room.  He opened the door with a big grin on his face and boomed,  “Merry Christmas. . .”

 

     Jarrod’s words faltered as he walked into the room.  Heath was hardly the picture of excitement like Jarrod remembered himself and Nick being at the age of eight on Christmas morning.  The blond boy was dressed for the day and sitting by the window.  His forlorn gaze never left the ranch yard below. 

 

     “Heath?”

 

     Heath turned as if this was the first he was aware of his siblings.

 

     “Come on,” Jarrod urged.  “We’re going down to see what Santa left for everyone.”

 

     Jarrod didn’t allow the morose boy anymore time to brood.  He swept Heath from his chair and swung him to his shoulders.  Jarrod followed Nick out of the room, ducking under the doorway so Heath wouldn’t hit his head. 

 

     Jarrod backtracked down the hall just long enough to pound on his parents’ bedroom door.

 

     “Merry Christmas, Father!  Merry Christmas, Mother!”

 

     Nick’s voiced echoed the same sentiments.

 

     Jarrod added,  “Heath and Audra say Merry Christmas as well.”

 

     Victoria was belting her robe when she opened the door.  She smiled at the sight before her.  A fully dressed Audra smiling from Nick’s hip, Nick and Jarrod standing together looking so handsome and grownup, and a somber Heath perched on Jarrod’s shoulders whether he wanted to be there or not. 

 

     Tom was slipping into his robe when he joined his family.  “Go on then, Jarrod.  Let’s get this Christmas Day started.”

 

     Jarrod bounded down the stairs, calling, “Hang on, Heath!”  Nick followed with the laughing Audra who squealed with delight at all the commotion.

 

     The boys went right for their stockings.  Tom took Heath off Jarrod’s shoulders while Victoria took Audra from Nick.  Nuts, oranges, and chocolate candies spilled out of the boys’ stockings while Audra received a rattle, a teething ring, and a new cloth doll.  Jarrod and Nick dug further, Nick finding dime novels by his favorite western author while Jarrod found a bottle of aftershave and a pocket dictionary. 

 

     Heath let Tom guide him through his stocking, only reaching for more treasures when he was prompted to do so by his father.  If the gifts brought Heath any excitement Tom was hard-pressed to discern it from the boy’s reserved demeanor.

 

     The man did his best to cover Heath’s behavior.  When all the stockings were empty he clapped his hands and said, “Okay, everyone!  Gather around in a circle by the tree.”

 

     Tom took Heath by the hand and led him to the evergreen.  Jarrod sat next to Heath with Nick on the other side of him.  Victoria sat between her husband and Nick, Audra on her lap.

 

     Tom picked up the first present.  He read the writing on the tissue paper.  “This says it’s for Heath from Papa and Victoria.”

 

     Heath took the gift and opened it.  Without comment he studied the wooden car that would hook on the back of his train engine.  He finally lifted his eyes to his father.

 

     “Thank you, Papa.”

 

     Tom patted his back.  “You’re welcome, son.  That was from Victoria, too.”

 

     Heath knew what his father meant by that last comment.  He glanced across the room, barely making eye contact with his stepmother.

 

     “Thank you, ma’am.”

 

     “You’re welcome, Heath.”

 

     Tom continued to pass out gifts one by one until everyone had a pile of open presents surrounding them.  Audra sat in the middle of the floor now, ignoring her new dolls and the jack-in-the-box to instead play with the discarded wrapping paper.

 

     Tom watched his family for a moment.  He smiled at his sparkling baby girl, his eyes then shifted to his older sons.  Nick was sighting the new rifle he’d gotten while Jarrod poured over a set of law textbooks Victoria had ordered for him from Boston.  Heath was the only one who showed little interest in his gifts, though he had said thank you after he’d opened each one.

 

     The family patriarch reached under the tree one last time.  He found gifts from Nick and Jarrod to himself and Victoria, and gifts from them to each other, Heath, and Audra.  Whether or not Nick would have purchased Heath a gift without Tom’s prompting the man didn’t know, nonetheless the purchase had been made at some point in recent days and that was all Tom cared about.

 

     Victoria opened the first box Tom handed her.  Her eyes grew wide with shock. 

 

     “Jarrod...oh, Jarrod, it’s beautiful.”

 

     The woman held up a slate gray cameo broach for all to see.

 

“Honey, you shouldn’t have.  The money you must have spent.” 

 

     Jarrod rose and stepped over Audra.  He bent and kissed his mother’s cheek.

 

“You’re worth every penny.”

 

     Her gift from Nick was a jar of colored bath salts and a bottle of her favorite perfume.

 

     “Why, thank you, Nick.  Thank you.  This was so thoughtful of you.  And to think you even know what my favorite perfume is.”

 

     Nick blushed and shrugged his shoulders.  “It was nothing.  But when you’re ready to use those things...on a night when Father takes you out to dinner maybe, I’ll watch Audra.”

 

     Tom looked at Nick mouthing, “And Heath, too.”

     “And Heath.  I’ll stay here and watch Audra and Heath so you and Father can go out to dinner.  Maybe even take the train to San Francisco and see a play.”

 

     “That’s a wonderful idea, Nick.  When Audra’s a little older I’ll take you up on it.  Thank you, son.”

 

     While Victoria helped Audra open the gifts Jarrod and Nick had given her no one noticed Heath scoot back toward the tree.  His hand encountered two presents he slipped into the back pocket of his pants.  By the time Tom was opening his gifts Heath was seated next to him once again.

 

     The man was surprised to find a present wrapped in brown paper with his name printed on it.

 

     “To Papa,” he read, “From Heath.”

 

     Tom smiled down at his blond son while he opened the gift.  His jaw dropped as he hands rubbed over the soft leather of the wallet.

 

     “Heath, this is nice.  Very nice.  But wherever did you get the money to buy it?”

     The weekly allowance Tom paid Heath for doing chores around the ranch wouldn’t have purchased a wallet this expensive.

 

     “I made it.”

 

     “You made it?”

 

     “Yes.  After school and on weekends when I was in the tack room.  Phillip gave me the leather.  He said they were scraps no one would ever use.”

 

     Tom turned the wallet over to see the word ‘Papa’ burnished on the other side.  He watched as Jarrod and Nick opened wallets with their names burnished in the leather as well.

 

     “Where did you ever learn tannery?”

 

     “From Mr. Overmeier in Strawberry.  He was the tanner.  I cleaned his shop for him whenever he asked me to.”

 

     Jarrod expressed his pleasure at Heath’s craftsmanship, and even Nick was forced to admit this new little brother was constantly full of surprises.  For the first time since Heath had arrived he spoke to the boy in a civil tongue. 

 

     “Thanks, Heath.  Thanks a lot.”

 

     Victoria opened the gift addressed to Audra from Heath.  A leather necklace strung with colored wooden beads was just the right length to tie around her chubby neck.

 

     “Where did you get the beads?”  Tom asked.

 

     “Miss Wellington got them for me.  She traded me two week’s worth of blackboard cleaning for them ‘cause I told her I don’t take charity.”

 

     Tom laughed and pulled his son to his chest.  “You’re quite the little businessman, aren’t you.”

 

     “And I made Silas a belt.  I’ll give it to him after breakfast.”

 

     “That was very thoughtful of you, to remember Silas like that.”

 

     “He’s my friend,” Heath said in return.

 

     Tom looked under the tree one last time.  When he didn’t see anything for Victoria from Heath he wasn’t sure if he should question the boy or not.  He caught his wife’s eye and saw her shake her head no.  He swore he saw tears swimming behind her gaze, but she turned away before he could ascertain that fact.  Victoria distracted the family by picking up Audra and announcing, “Silas is putting breakfast on the table.  Let’s leave our gifts for the time being and eat.”

 

BV    BV    BV    BV    BV    BV

 

    

  The Barkley family attended church services at noon that day, then returned home to the Christmas feast Silas had awaiting them.  Friends and neighbors popped in throughout the afternoon and early evening.  By ten o’clock that night the Barkleys were settling into their respective beds.  Even Nick went without a fuss, the long day taking its toll on him as well.

 

     Tom turned on his side and snuggled against his wife. 

 

“Victoria, I’m sorry.”

 

     “Sorry for what?”

 

     “For not making certain Heath had a gift for you.  I never gave it a thought that he would buy...or make rather, any of us presents this year.  I assumed he wasn’t comfortable enough with us yet so I didn’t broach the subject with him.”

 

     “It’s okay. Heath has the right to give gifts to whomever he chooses.”

 

     “But he doesn’t have the right to leave you out.  That’s not the way we do things around here.”

 

     “Let it be for now.  Please.”

 

     “But--”

 

     “Tom, this situation is no different than what you said a while back about Nick.”

 

     “About Nick?”

 

     “Regarding George Barnsworth and how he picks on Heath.  You said you couldn’t make Nick fight for Heath, nor love him either.  Well, you can’t make Heath love me.  To quote you, he’ll be drawn to do that in time, or he won’t be.  None of us can predict what the future holds.”

     Tom made no reply to his wife.  As much as he hated it when she found occasion to use his words against him, he had to admit they were appropriate given the current situation.

 

     Victoria said no more and Tom fell asleep holding her.  She didn’t allow her tears to flow until she felt his soft snores against her back.

 

 

BV    BV    BV    BV    BV    BV

              

      

 

     The next two weeks flew by.  New Year’s Eve took Jarrod and Nick to the party at the Hansen ranch and brought the Manners family to the Barkleys’ homestead.

 

     Somehow Jarrod found the time to give equally of himself to everyone.  He worked alongside his father, took trips to town with Nick, went horseback riding with his mother, played with Audra, and walked with Heath beside the river that cut through the Barkley property when the boy took Chief’s puppies out for their daily romp.

 

     Everyone hated to see Jarrod return to school, but the day came when they had no choice but to wave goodbye.  Nick helped Tom secure Jarrod’s luggage to the back of the buggy.  One of the ranch hands was driving Tom and Jarrod into Stockton.  Tom was taking the train to San Francisco with his oldest son.  He had business to conduct in the city for several days and decided this would be a good opportunity to get it taken care of.

 

     It wasn’t unusual for Heath to disappear whenever Tom went to town.  Therefore, Victoria wasn’t concerned when she didn’t see him after the buggy pulled out of the main gates.  She knew he never wandered too far, but always seemed to find something to occupy his time on the Barkley acreage.

 

     Nick flew into the dining room at five minutes after six that evening.  He slid into his chair.

 

     “Sorry I’m late, Mother.”

 

     Victoria leaned sideways with her napkin and wiped at a smudge of dirt on her son’s face. 

 

     “It looks like you’ve been busy.”

 

     “Some horses broke out of the east corral.  I was helping Randall and Paul repair the fencing.”

 

     “Your father will be pleased to know he can leave the ranch in your capable hands.”

 

     Victoria saw Nick’s chest swell with pride at the compliment, though he simply shrugged his shoulders in reply to her words.  The woman reached out and slapped at one of Nick’s hands.   

 

     “Nick, put that roll down.  You know we don’t begin eating until everyone is seated.”  The woman craned her head toward the foyer where Nick had entered from.  “And speaking of everyone being seated, where’s Heath?”

     “I don’t know.”

 

     “You didn’t see him on your way in?”

     “No.”

 

     “That’s odd.  He’s never late for a meal.”

 

     “That’s for sure,” Nick snorted.  “The kid’s like a cuckoo clock when it comes to being fed.”

 

     “Nick.”

 

     “What?  No one’s around to hear me.  Well, no one but Audra that is and she’s not going to tell anyone, are you Audra?”

 

     The baby gurgled at her big brother as though she’d understood every word he said.  Nick reached over and moved her blocks around on her high chair tray.

 

     Victoria stood and went to the dining room windows. 

 

“When was the last time you saw Heath today?”

     “I don’t know.  I guess when Father and Jarrod left.”

    

“That was the last time I saw him, too.”

 

     Silas entered carrying a platter of ham.  Victoria turned.

 

     “Silas, have you seen Heath this afternoon?”

     “No, ma’am.  Least ways not since you were all gathered outside saying goodbye to Mr. Jarrod.”

     Victoria turned back to the windows as Silas exited the room.

 

     “It’s getting dark,” the woman said to her son.  “It’s not like Heath to stay out after dark.  And it’s especially not like him to be late for supper.”

 

     “Do you want me to go out and see if he’s in the barn?”

     The woman turned to her son.  She could tell by the look on his face that he’d rather be eating.  She appreciated him taking a mature stance for once where his younger brother was concerned.

 

     “Yes, Nick.  Please do that.  And if he’s not there look in the other buildings as well.  And check with the men in the bunkhouses, too.”

 

     “I will.”

 

     This time Victoria didn’t admonish Nick when he reclaimed his dinner roll on his way out the door.  On impulse she took Audra out of the high chair and called to Silas.

 

     “Yes, ma’am?”

     “I’m going to check upstairs just to make certain Heath isn’t hiding somewhere on us.  Would you please look in all the rooms down here.”

     “Yes, Mrs. Barkley.  I’ll do that right now.  But don’t you worry none.  It’ll probably turn out like Christmas Eve.  Mr. Heath is probably curled up in some corner somewhere sound asleep.”

     Victoria nodded as she and Audra headed for the stairs.

 

     Silas is right.  I’m worrying for nothing.  Heath has probably fallen asleep somewhere, or is outside feeding Jarrod’s dogs and has lost track of time.

 

              

BV    BV    BV    BV    BV    BV

              

 

    

     An hour later Victoria knew she now had reason to be concerned.  The search of the house proved futile, as did Nick’s search of the out buildings.  The fourteen year old was getting some men together to ride the ranch looking for Heath when horse’s hooves pounded from the west.  Nick strained to see into the darkness.

 

     “Whoa,” the man said as he reined his horse to a stop next to Nick.

 

     “Heath!”  Nick cried.  “Where have you been?  It’s after seven o’clock and you’ve got everyone goin’ out of their minds with worry.”

 

     The ranch hand swung down off his horse, then lifted the soaking wet Heath out of the saddle. 

 

     “I found him walking home from the river, Nick.  He said he fell in.”

 

     “Fell in!  Why you little...you know the river’s off limits unless an adult is with you.”

 

     Nick looked up at the man who had brought his brother home.  “Thanks, Art.”

 

     “No problem.”  The cowboy tousled Heath’s wet hair.  “And you stay away from that river, young fella’.”

 

     Nick grabbed a handful of his brother’s shirt and propelled the child toward the house.  “Boy, are you gonna get it.  Mother’s gonna tan your hide for this stunt.  First you disappear without telling anyone where you’re goin’, then you practically get yourself drowned in the river.  You have yet to see Victoria Barkley’s temper, but I have a feeling you’ll be well acquainted with it before you’re sent to bed.”

 

     Even if Heath had wanted to make a reply he couldn’t have.  The air temperature was fifty degrees and the cold water of the river hadn’t felt any warmer than that.  His teeth were chattering and his limbs stiff as ice.

 

     Nick was shouting before he even opened the door.

 

     “Mother!  Mother!  Mother, look who Art brought home!”

 

     Victoria rushed down the stairs from the nursery.

 

     “Heath!  Heath, where have you...Heath, what happened?  My Lord, you’re soaking wet.”

 

     “He fell in the river.”

 

     “In the river?  What was he doing down there?”

 

     “I don’t know.  Art found him walking home a little while ago.”

 

     Victoria shuddered as she thought of the wild, rushing river that cut a wide path through the Barkley property.  It was as beautiful as it was deadly.  Only on the calmest of summer days could it be used for a swim.  In winter, when it was filled with snow run-offs from the mountains it was swollen and angry.  As angry as Victoria was right now when she thought of what could have been had Heath somehow not gotten himself to safety.

 

     “Heath, you know you’re not supposed to be near that river unless an adult is with you!  What in the world made you go down there?”  The woman cupped the child’s chin and raised his head so he was forced to make eye contact with her.

 

     “Heath?  Heath, answer me.”

 

     When it became apparent the boy was going to make no reply Victoria shook her head in both anger and disgust. 

 

     “Go upstairs and get changed out of those wet clothes.”  The woman turned to her house servant as he entered from the kitchen to see what the commotion was about.  “Silas, please help him.  Get him in bed while I warm up some soup.”

     “Yes, ma’am.”  Silas put a hand on Heath’s cold back.  “Come on, Mr. Heath.  Let’s get you warmed up.”

 

     Heath watched Victoria with wary eyes when she entered his room thirty minutes later.  He was dressed in a clean nightshirt and tucked in bed with two extra quilts spread over him.  He wouldn’t meet Victoria’s gaze as he sipped at the chicken soup.   At least she wasn’t trying to make conversation.  She was so angry with him she simply sat perched on the edge of his mattress waiting for him to finish his meal.

 

     When Victoria got up to leave she realized it was Tom who had always tucked Heath into bed for the night.  She knew little of what their nighttime routine contained.  She never gave it a thought when she leaned forward to kiss the boy’s forehead.  She would have made this gesture to any of her children no matter how upset she was with them. 

 

     Heath cowered into his pillows when he saw Victoria moving toward him.  She stopped in mid-motion; his blatant dislike of her made the woman feel as though someone had taken a slice from her heart.

 

     She stood with the soup bowl in her hand.  She leaned over the oil lamp and blew out the wick, plunging the room into darkness.

 

     “Good night, Heath.”

 

     The boy didn’t answer Victoria, but then she didn’t expect him to.

            

BV    BV    BV    BV    BV    BV

 

             

    

     Victoria sat in the parlor staring into the fireplace.  The flames offered no answers to the questions churning in her mind.

 

     She wondered what had lured Heath to the river.  Though he generally disappeared when Tom wasn’t around, he’d never before been disobedient and wandered somewhere he’d been told he wasn’t supposed to be.

 

     And his dislike of her.  He’d been with them over two months now and nothing had changed.  They hadn’t even begun to form the slightest of friendships, let alone forge a mother/child relationship.  While some women in Victoria’s position might have looked upon Heath’s silence as a blessing, she knew in his case actions did speak louder than words.  The most recent example of that was the Christmas gifts that had been given to everyone but her.  Why even Silas received a gift, but there had been nothing for her and no mention as to why not.  Well, Victoria knew the why nots.  The boy hated her.  He resented her for being the woman whose role it now was to take his mother’s place. 

 

     Maybe Tom needs to take him back to Strawberry.  I thought we were doing the right thing by bringing Heath here, but now I see I was wrong.  Heath hates me, he has no desire to get to know me, or allow me to get to know him.  And then there’s Nick.  We shouldn’t have expected him to accept this boy as brother.  It’s not fair that this has altered Tom and Nick’s relationship.  All for a little boy who doesn’t want to be here in the first place. 

 

     Heath and Audra were sleeping, and Silas had retired to his quarters for the night.  Nick was out in the tack room mending a saddle meaning Victoria had the main floor to herself.  She sat in the parlor until the clock chimed ten times.  She thought of going outside and telling Nick it was time for him to get ready for bed, then decided he might as well enjoy his last few days of school vacation.  Besides, he’d been such a help tonight.  So calm and levelheaded when organizing the men to search for Heath.  So confident that Heath would be found when he patted Victoria’s arm and said,  “Don’t worry, Mother.  Everything’s going to be all right.  I’ll find him, I promise.”

 

     Yes, Heath had been found and with plenty of help from his guardian angel everything had indeed, been all right.  But what would tomorrow bring?  And the day after that?  Would the child eventually run away?  Had he been trying to do just that this evening when he fell in the river?  And what heartache would it bring Tom if the boy disappeared at some point in the future and was never found?  Would Tom ever be able to forgive himself for the mistakes that were made the night Heath was created?

 

     Victoria stood and crossed to the fireplace.  She wished she knew what opinions she was going to express to her husband when he returned from San Francisco.  Should Heath remain at the Barkley ranch, or be returned to Rachel?

 

Perhaps that decision was best left up to the eight year old.  But would Tom even be willing to consider such a thing?  And if he wasn’t, what price might they pay for keeping Heath with them?  What price might Heath pay for staying with them?  

 

     With a heavy heart Victoria removed the poker from its rack and rolled the logs.  She left the fire burning low, knowing Nick would take care of it when he came in.

 

     The woman lifted her skirts and climbed the stairs.  She placed her hand on the knob of Heath’s bedroom door, her intention to silently enter the room one last time to make certain he wasn’t suffering any ill effects from his swim.  She paused a moment and cocked her head.  There it was again.  A muffled, gasping sound like someone was crying.  Crying but didn’t want to be heard.

 

     Victoria opened Heath’s door and took two steps into the room.  The lights from the hallway gave her all she needed to see by.  Heath lay curled in a ball with his back to her.  His body shook as he sobbed into his pillows.

 

     “Heath?”  The woman rushed to the bed.  “Heath?  Honey, are you all right?  Do you feel sick?”

 

     Victoria sat on the edge of the mattress.  Heath curled up even tighter when he felt her come to rest beside him.  She ignored his movement and placed her open palm on his forehead.  When she couldn’t detect a fever she ran her hand down to his cheek.  With her own children she’d often found this was a good gauge of how high their temperatures were. 

 

     Heath’s skin felt a little warm to Victoria, but she wasn’t certain if that was a sign of illness or if it was from the exertion of crying.  His face was wet with tears.  He sputtered and gulped, trying to stop their flow, but the weeping seemed to continue on its own accord.

 

     “Heath, can you tell me what’s wrong?”

 

     When Victoria got no answer she kept her voice quiet and soothing when probing again.

 

     “Are you sick?”

     Still no answer.

 

     “Heath, please.  I’m worried about you, sweetheart.  If nothing else please tell me if you’re not feeling well.”

 

     Finally Victoria saw him nod against his pillow.

 

     “Does that mean you’re all right?”

 

     His voice came out soft and nasally.  “Yes, ma’am.”

 

     “You don’t have a tummy ache?”

 

     “No, ma’am.”

     “How about a headache?”

 

     “No, ma’am.”

     “Are you too warm or too cold?”

     “No, ma’am.”

     Victoria put a smile in her voice when she asked her last question.

 

     “Have you grown another arm or leg?  Or perhaps another set of toes?  Or an extra ear?”

     “No, ma’am.”

 

     “Well then, young man, I’d say you survived your swim unscathed.”

 

     It wasn’t until after she’d brushed Heath’s hair off his forehead that Victoria realized he’d allowed her to touch him.  She pulled a hankie out of her dress pocket and wiped the tears from the side of his face that was visible to her.  She held the white linen to his nose and encouraged him to sit up.

 

     “Here, sweetheart.  Blow.”

 

     Heath rose on an elbow and did as instructed.  Victoria folded the hankie and returned it to her pocket.  She sat in silence with the boy for a moment, trying to decide how to proceed with this very fragile thread that suddenly existed between them.  She kept her voice soft and gentle.

 

     “Would you tell me why you were crying, honey?”

 

     Heath leaned against his pillows but turned his head away.  Nonetheless, his movement couldn’t hide the tears she saw well up in his eyes again.

 

     “Heath?”

 

     When Victoria got no reply she absently fingered the quilts that lay across the boy’s chest. 

 

     “You know, when my children are upset it upsets me, too.  It hurts me to find you crying in here all by yourself.  Sometimes when something bothers us so much that it makes us cry it helps to have a friend to talk to.”

 

     Heath thought a long moment before confessing,

 

     “Rachel used to talk to me when I cried after my mother died.”

 

     “Rachel was a good friend then, wasn’t she?”

 

     “Uh, huh.  And Hannah, too.”

 

     “Yes, and Hannah, too.  I’m glad to hear you had such good friends.  I know when we have to move away from our friends it can make us very sad.  Are you crying because you miss Rachel and Hannah?”

 

     “No.”

     “I see.  Well, maybe you’re crying because you had to say goodbye to Jarrod today.  Saying goodbye to Jarrod made me sad.”

 

     “I didn’t want Jarrod to go either.  I like him a lot.”

 

     Victoria smiled.  “Everyone likes Jarrod a lot.  He’s a good brother, don’t you think?”

 

     “Yes.”

 

     “So is that why you’re crying?  Because Jarrod had to leave us to return to school?”

     “No.”

 

     Victoria thought further, trying to remember what it was like to be eight years old.  Trying to put herself in Heath’s place.  She pondered bringing up the subject of his mother, but thought it was best to follow his lead in that area.  She looked around the room, her eyes traveling to the vast hallway beyond.  This house must seem so enormous to Heath after the home he was used to living in with his mother.  Tom had told her it had one room that served as both kitchen and living room, and one tiny bedroom barely bigger than a closet where Heath slept, while Leah slept on a cot near the stove.

 

     Victoria could easily imagine how frightening it must be for Heath to sleep in this big room all by himself.  She wondered why she’d never thought of this before.  On the other hand, how could she have?  Prior to this moment she’d always gotten the impression Heath didn’t want her in the room with him.

 

     “Heath, were you crying because you’re scared?”

 

     Victoria’s question prompted a fresh flow of tears. 

 

     “Sweetheart, what is it that’s frightening you so?”

 

     When the boy didn’t answer Victoria prompted,  “Heath?”

     “Papa...Papa’s gone.”

 

     “You’re scared because Papa went with Jarrod?”

 

     Heath nodded his head.

 

     “There’s no need to be scared, honey.  Papa will be back.  Remember when he left today he told you he’d see you on Saturday.”

 

     The boy’s answer came in a hiccupped sob. 

 

“I...I...I...know.”

    

“Papa will be back on Saturday, and in the meantime I’m here with you and Nick and Audra.”

 

     “But...but...but...you’ll send me away...away to some place...some place where Papa will never find me.”

 

     “I’ll do what?”

 

     “Send...send...me...away.”

 

     “Who told you that?”

 

     “My...my...Uncle Matt.”

 

     “Your Uncle Matt?  When did he tell you that?”

 

     “The day I lef...left Strawberry.  Uncle Matt wanted me to stay with him and Aunt Martha.  He told me to tell Papa I wanted to stay in Strawberry.  Only I didn’t want

to.  Well...maybe I did a little because I love Rachel and Hannah.  But Uncle Matt is mean.  Especially when he drinks whiskey.  And Aunt Martha...well Hannah says she’s not right in the head and it’s true.  She looks at people funny and laughs for no reason at all.  Sometimes she even wears her clothes backwards, or forgets to put on her shoes, or wears her nigh gown to the general store.  I didn’t want to live with her and Uncle Matt.  If I couldn’t stay with Rachel and Hannah then I wanted to come with Papa ‘cause I already liked him.”

 

     “Exactly where is it your Uncle Matt told you I’d send you?”

 

     Heath finally made eye contact with his step mother.  Though Victoria could tell he was frightened, she could also tell he was ready to face the fears that had haunted him since the first day he came to the Barkley ranch. 

 

     “He said you’d hate me because I’m not your boy.  That you’d hate me ‘cause I’m just your husband’s bastard.  He said the first time Papa went away for more than a few hours you’d send me to an orphanage where Papa would never find me.”

 

     Victoria was getting a good idea as to just what kind of a man Matthew Thomson was.  She had a strong suspicion he’d filled Heath’s head with even more lies than had just been revealed.

 

     “What other things did your uncle tell you about me?”

 

     “That...that...” tears threatened to cut off Heath’s voice.

 

     Victoria stroked his cheek with the back of her hand. 

 

“Honey, don’t cry.  There’s nothing to be afraid of.  Your Uncle Matt has told you a lot of things that aren’t true.  Things that have been scaring you and have prevented you and me from becoming friends. Now why don’t you tell me everything else your uncle said.”

 

     It took Heath a moment to find his voice. 

 

“He said even if you didn’t send me away you’d beat me.  That I wouldn’t even have to do anything wrong and you’d take a strap to me.  He said you wouldn’t want me in your house ‘cause I’m not one of your kids.  That you’d just as soon put me out with the garbage than to have to look at me.”

 

     “Is that why you don’t like me to touch you, and why you don’t like to talk to me?  It that why you disappear every time Papa goes to town? Because you’re afraid I’ll beat you?  Is that why you wandered down to the river tonight?”

 

     The boy dropped his eyes.

 

     “Heath?”

 

     Victoria saw him give a skittish nod of his head. 

 

     “Heath, look at me please.”

 

     The eight year old reluctantly lifted his head.  He was shocked to see tears rolling down his stepmother’s face.

 

     “Sweetheart, I would never, never send you away.  Not to an orphanage, not anywhere.  This is your home now.  You live here with your father and your brothers and your sister.  You have just as much right to be here as anyone else in this family.  And I do want you in this house.  Don’t you think for one minute that I don’t.  As far as me taking a strap to you...well, have you ever seen me take a strap to anyone?”

 

     “No.  But Nick said you were going to tan my hide tonight.”

 

     “Nick knows perfectly well that I have never struck any child in this household.  Unfortunately, when Nick gets angry he tends to stretch the truth.”

 

     “Nick’s angry with me a lot.  I want to be his friend, but he doesn’t like me much.”

 

     “Nick hasn’t given himself time to get to know you, Heath.  Which is his fault, not yours.”

 

     “He thinks I took Papa away from him.  I never meant to.  I always try to make sure Papa spends more time with Nick than with me because Nick needs him more than I do.  I love Papa, but I got along okay for eight years without knowing him so if it makes Nick mad ‘cause he has to share Papa with me then I won’t mind if Papa ignores me.  Besides, Uncle Matt already told me that my brothers and sister wouldn’t want me here either ‘cause I’m the bastard kid.”

 

     Victoria kept her seething anger for Matt Thomson from showing on her face or in her voice. 

 

     “Heath, we need to discuss several issues.  First of all, it’s very generous of you to say you’d allow Papa to ignore you if that act would make Nick happy, but let me assure you Papa won’t be ignoring any of his children.  Just like Jarrod had to learn to share Papa when Nick was born, Nick will now have to learn to share Papa with you.  Such is the way of families long before any of us came into this world.

 

     “And as far as your uncle saying you’re a bastard...I don’t like that word.  It’s a stupid word.  It’s a stupid word that just means your Uncle Matt isn’t a very smart man.”

 

     “No.  It means that I don’t have a father.  Other people in Strawberry used to call me that sometimes, too.  I even fought some kids in school who used to call me that.”

 

     “But you do have a father, Heath.  Everyone has a father.  None of us could be born without one.  Granted, not all of us grow up living with our fathers, but I don’t care who the person is, he or she has a father.   So see, you aren’t a bastard.”

 

     Heath mulled over Victoria’s words before nodding his agreement to the logic behind them.  She sat stroking a hand through his golden hair, allowing him time to contemplate their conversation.  When he spoke again she had to strain to hear the little voice that was pitched just above a whisper.

 

     “Sometimes I cry because I’m scared...and sometimes I cry because I miss my mother.”

 

     And with that the floodgate broke.  Sobs wracked the boy’s body as he cried for the woman he had loved so much and tried so hard to take care of.  

 

     Victoria wrapped Heath in her arms.  He buried his face in the hollow between her neck and shoulder, weeping so heavily Victoria could soon feel his wet tears dampening the material of her dress.

 

     The woman rocked back and forth in gentle rhythm.  One hand cupped the back of Heath’s head while the other rubbed up and down the curve of his bony spine. 

 

     “I know, sweetie.  I know it hurts.  I know how much you loved her and how much you miss her.   I know,” Victoria soothed.  “I know.”

 

     Heath pushed words out between his sobs.

 

     “I’ve tried...tried to be good.  I’ve tried to wish her here.  I thought...I thought maybe...maybe if I...if I didn’t cause anyone...anyone any trouble that...that...God...God would give her...give her back to me.   I even asked Santa Claus to bring her.  I didn’t...I didn’t ask for anything else.  Nothing.  Just my mother.  But then I woke up...woke up on Christmas and went downstairs to look for her and...and she wasn’t here.  That’s when I knew...when I knew she wasn’t ever coming back.  Never.  No matter how good I am...or how hard I pray...or how much I wish.  I’ll never see her again, will I?”

 

     It broke Victoria’s heart to have to tell this child the truth.  Despite the fact that her husband had slept with Leah Thomson, Victoria wished she had the power to bring Heath’s mother back to him.

 

     “I’m so sorry, Heath, but no.  No.  You won’t ever see your mother again.  Or at least not for a long, long time until you’re a very old man and God calls you home to heaven.  But in the years between now and then you’ll have the memories of your mother to carry in your heart.”

 

     “I just want...I just want to hug her one last time.  I just want to tell her I love her again.  She was so...so sick when I told her that day.  That last day that she was...was alive.  So sick that I don’t think she heard me.”

 

     “Oh, honey, she heard you.  She heard you.”

 

     “How do you...how do you know?”

 

     Victoria’s lips brushed the top of Heath’s head. 

 

“Because a mother always hears her child’s voice no matter what.”

 

     Heath clung to Victoria and cried a long time that night.  She suspected every memory he had of his mother was coming alive within his mind.  She also suspected he was taking the first steps toward saying goodbye to a life he could never have again, and to a cherished woman he would never see again. 

 

     When Heath’s tears stopped he was content to remain folded within Victoria’s embrace.  He didn’t say anymore, and neither did she.  She simply held him, stroking his hair and rubbing his back until she could tell he’d fallen asleep.

 

     The woman eased Heath to his pillows without waking him.  She sat beside him a while longer, then stood and made sure he was well covered.  She leaned down and placed a light kiss in the middle of his forehead.  As she walked out of the room she could only hope tonight was the beginning of a new day for both of them.

 

     Victoria closed Heath’s door, then turned to face Nick.  She’d heard him come up the stairs shortly after she’d entered Heath’s room.  The entire time she was with Heath she was well aware that Nick was standing outside the open door eavesdropping.

 

     Nick ducked his head while swiping at his eyes.  No matter.  Victoria had seen the tears brimming there.

 

     Her voice was quiet but firm when she spoke to her fourteen year old.

 

     “I imagine you now have a better understanding of what your brother is going through, and why this adjustment is just as difficult for him as it is for you.  For as much as he needs a mother, he also needs a friend.  At some point very soon I hope you decide to be that friend.  If you don’t, then someday he’ll look elsewhere for someone he can turn to, admire, work beside, and have fun with.  My woman’s intuition tells me you’ll live to regret it if that’s what you allow to happen.  I have a feeling that little boy in there is just itching to make someone the best friend you could ever hope to have.”

 

     Nick’s reply was unsteady and tight.  “Yeah.  Yeah, I...I get that feeling, too.”

 

     The young man accepted his mother’s kiss on the cheek.

 

     “Good night, Nick.”

 

     “Good night.”

 

 

BV    BV    BV    BV    BV    BV

 

 

           

    

                 

     Victoria, Audra, and Heath were already at the breakfast table the next morning when Nick entered the room.  Heath’s eyes slid sideways when Nick took the chair next to him rather than the one across the table from him. 

 

     “Good morning, Mother!”  Nick boomed with sunshine in his voice.  His greeting to Heath was no less exuberant.  “Morning, Heath!”

 

     Victoria smiled.  “Good morning.”

 

     Heath’s “morning,” was full of wary caution, as though he wasn’t sure what Nick’s motives were.

 

     Victoria saw Heath’s eyes widen when Nick spoke of the day he had planned.   There wasn’t one thing on Nick’s list that didn’t include Heath’s participation.

 

     “If it’s okay with you, Mother, Heath and I will inspect that north fence line Father asked me to check.  Then we’ll ride to the line shack and drop supplies off to Bill and Jack.  I’ll have Silas pack us a lunch.  We’ll eat in the orange grove, then look over the trees.  After that we have a little errand to run.”

 

     “An errand?”  Victoria questioned.

 

     “Yeah.  Me and Heath need to pay a visit to George Barnsworth.  We have some business to take care of with him.”

     “Business?”

 

     Nick looked at Heath and smiled.  “We need to let him know that there’s just some things you can’t get away with sayin’ to a Barkley.”

 

     “I see.  Well, that does sound like important business.  You boys take care of it in whatever way you see fit.”

 

     Nick’s smile was transferred to his mother.  “I thought you’d say that.”

 

     Nick shoveled his eggs in his mouth then gulped his orange juice in three swallows.  He tousled Heath’s hair as he stood.

 

     “Come on, little brother.  Day’s a wastin’.”

 

     Victoria smiled to herself when Heath jumped from his chair and ran after Nick with open devotion written all over his young face.  She turned to Audra who was smiling as well, as though she knew exactly what was transpiring in her household. 

 

     Victoria dabbed at her daughter’s mouth with a napkin. 

 

“Audra, I do believe your brothers are on their way to becoming life-long friends.”

 

     The woman turned and looked out the window.  She watched as one dark head and one blond head disappeared together into the barn.  She had a feeling this was a scene she’d watch over and over again for many years to come.

 

BV    BV    BV    BV    BV    BV

              

 

     Victoria looked up when she heard the front door shut.  She was in Tom’s office balancing the books as she did every month.  Audra was spending the morning with Phillip’s wife so Victoria could go about her work uninterrupted.

 

     The woman smiled when she saw Heath peer around the corner.

 

     “I thought you and Nick were already off doing all those things Nick said needed tending to.”

 

     “Not yet.”  Heath approached the desk without hesitation, his hands clasped behind his back. “Nick’s helping some of the men fix one of the corral fences.  The new stallion broke a board on it this morning.  I got our horses ready so now I’m just waiting for him.”

     “I’m sure he’ll be along in a few minutes.”

     “Yeah, he will.”  Heath dropped his eyes.  “I...I have something for you.”

 

     “For me?”

 

     Heath produced two wrapped packages from behind his back.  “I was gonna give these to you for Christmas, but...”

 

     Victoria moved out from behind the desk and led Heath over to the sofa.  She sat down next to him and took the presents he handed her.

     “But what, Heath?”

 

     The boy shrugged.

 

“They’re not fancy like the pin Jarrod bought you.  And they don’t smell nice like the perfume Nick bought you.  After I saw what they gave you I didn’t think the presents I had for you were good enough.  But I didn’t have the money to buy you anything from a store.  I send all the money I earn working for Papa to Rachel and Hannah.”

 

     “You do?  Does Papa know that?”

 

     “I don’t think so.  I mean, I never told him.  He said I could do whatever I want with my money.”

     “He’s right, you can.  And I think it’s very generous of you to send your allowance to Rachel and Hannah.”

 

     “They need it.  I have so much now and they both have to work real hard to make a living.  I promised my mother I’d always take care of Rachel and Hannah ‘cause they always took care of us.”

 

     “You have a very loving spirit, Heath, and don’t you ever let anyone tell you differently.  When Papa gets back from San Francisco you talk to him about what you’ve been doing.  I think he’ll come up with another plan to assist Rachel and Hannah in such a way that you won’t have to give up the allowance you work so hard for.”

     “Okay.  But I don’t take charity.”

 

     “I know that,” Victoria smiled.  “And so does Papa.  I’m sure the two of you can negotiate a deal that will allow you to better provide for Rachel and Hannah over and above what you’ve already been sending them.”

 

     The woman looked down at the gifts in her lap.  “Do you want me to open these now?”

 

     “I guess.  But you might not like them.”

 

     “I’m sure I’ll love them.”

 

     Heath looked doubtful as Victoria unwrapped the first gift.  The necklace was just like the one Heath had given Audra.  Colorful wooden beads were strung on a soft string of leather that tied at the back of her neck.  Victoria immediately put the necklace on.

 

     “It’s beautiful, honey.  And it’s just the right length.”

 

     “Miss Wellington tried it on for me so I knew just where to cut the strings.”  Heath bit his lower lip.  “I...I made one for my mother, too...but...but I know now she won’t be able to have it so I’m going to send it to Rachel.  I’ll make one for Hannah, too, so she doesn’t feel bad.”

 

     Victoria couldn’t speak around the lump in her throat.  Her hat was off to Leah Thomson.  What a special little boy she had raised.

 

     “I’m sure Rachel and Hannah will be thrilled with their necklaces.  When you get them done you and I and Papa will drive to Strawberry so you can deliver them personally.”

 

     “Really?  Can we?  Can I really go back for a visit?”

     “I don’t see why not.”

 

     “I’d like that.  Can Nick and Audra come, too?  And Jarrod if he’s home?”

 

     “Certainly.  The whole family will go.”

 

     “That will be great.  Rachel loves company.  She makes the most delicious pies.  If she knows we’re coming she’ll cook all day.”

 

     “That alone makes the trip sound worth it to me.”

 

     “Me, too.”

 

     Victoria unwrapped the second gift.  A brown leather purse appeared from the folds of the paper.  It was trimmed with beaded tassels and closed on top with a drawstring making Victoria think of what she’d seen Indian women carry.  Victoria knew hours of craftsmanship had gone into making the gift.

 

     “Oh, Heath, it’s beautiful.  Absolutely beautiful.”

 

     Heath beamed as he said, “Turn it over.”

 

     Victoria did as she was told.  She saw the names of her children burnished deep in the purse’s underside.  She ran her fingers over the letters that formed Jarrod, then the ones that spelled Nick, then the ones that said Audra.  She looked at the boy sitting next to her.

 

     “This is a wonderful gift, Heath.  But I think you have a little more work to do before it’s complete.”

 

     Heath studied the bag, not certain what he’d missed.  Ever seam was sewn shut and every bead strung tight.  When he looked up at Victoria with open puzzlement she gave him a gentle smile.

 

     “You forgot a name, sweetheart.”

 

     “I did?”

 

     “Yes.  You forgot Heath.”

 

     Heath studied his stepmother, then threw himself forward and wrapped his arms around her waist.  Victoria held him close while running a hand over the back of his head.  She didn’t tell him that by August there would be yet another name to add.  She already knew she was in the early stages of pregnancy, but hadn’t told Tom their family was going to be blessed with yet another child. 

 

     The woman smiled as she thought of her husband. 

 

     Maybe Tom will finally get to make use of that name he’s so fond of after all.  Eugene.  I can’t say it’s one I’d pick out, but he let me veto it when we finally settled on Jarrod, and then again when we eventually came to agree upon Nicholas.  It’s a good thing Audra was a girl because we never did choose a boy’s name for her.  Once again Tom was trying to sell me on Eugene.  I suppose I should give in to him this time if another little boy is added to our family.

 

     Victoria turned her attention back to the boy in her arms.  She heard Heath’s muffled,  “My mother used to call me that all the time.”

 

     “Call you what?  Sweetheart?”

 

     “Yes.”

     Victoria gently disengaged Heath’s arms from her waist.  When she could look into his eyes she said,  “Perhaps it’s time we discuss what you want to call me.  I don’t think, after these beautiful gifts, that I want to hear you calling me ma’am any longer.  It sounds a bit too formal in my opinion.”

 

     “I suppose.”

 

     “Would you like to call me Victoria now like Papa suggested on the first day you came here?”

 

     Heath thought a moment, then shook his head.  “My mother said you shouldn’t call adults by their first names.  It’s disrespectful.”

 

     “Your mother was correct about that.  I’ve taught your brothers the same thing.  Nonetheless, I think this a special situation, don’t you?  Perhaps we can overlook the rules this one time.”

 

     “I don’t know,” Heath mused aloud.  “I’m not sure it would be right.”

 

Granted, he called Rachel and Hannah by their first names but that was different.  They’d been his mother’s best friends and Heath had known them for as long as he could remember. 

 

 

     Victoria patted the child’s knee.  “I’ll tell you what, you think it over for a few days and I’ll do the same.  Maybe between the two of us we can come up with something that will make us both happy.”

 

     “All right.”  Heath glanced out the big windows and saw Nick leading Coco and Ginger from the barn.  “Nick’s ready.  I’d better go.”

 

     The woman stood and walked with Heath to the doorway of the study.  “Have a good day.  And thank you again for the gifts, Heath.  I couldn’t love them any more had they come from the most expensive store in New York City.”

 

     “Really?”

 

     “Really.”

 

     “I’m glad.”

 

     Victoria watched the boy race for the door.  She marveled at the transformation that had taken place in less than twenty-four hours. 

 

     The woman headed back to her work.  She almost fell over when accosted from behind by two arms that encircled her waist.  She turned around to see a familiar golden head buried in her skirts.

 

     “I decided,” Heath said.

 

     “Decided what?”

 

     “If you’re going to call me sweetheart...”

 

     “Yes?”

 

     “Then I’d like to call you mother.”

     Victoria crouched down so she could give Heath a proper hug.  She kissed his cheek then pressed her face against his.  She didn’t have to voice her approval to him, when he felt her tears against his skin he knew he had made her happy.

 

     When Victoria finally pulled away from Heath she cupped his face in her hands and placed a final kiss on his forehead.  “I’m so lucky, Heath.  I’m so very lucky.  I have four beautiful children named Jarrod, Nick, Heath, and Audra.  Each and every one of those children fills my heart with joy.”

 

     Victoria released the smiling boy, then turned him toward the door and gave him a playful whack on the behind.

 

     “Go on with you now so I can get my work done.  Have a fun day with Nick.”

 

     “I will.”  Heath ran from the room, only to appear again seconds later.  “Oh, I need to ask you one more thing.”

 

     “Yes?”

 

     “Do you promise you won’t tan our hides if we give George Barnsworth what he has coming?”

     Victoria saw the twinkle in Heath’s eye and knew she was being teased.  

 

     “Let’s put it this way, son, what I don’t know I can’t dish out punishments for, right?”

 

     “Right.”

 

     Heath whirled away with a smile.  Victoria heard his boot heels pound across the foyer, then the slam of the front door.  Until this moment she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed having a little boy in the house. 

 

     Victoria crossed to the windows and watched Heath race across the yard. 

 

     “Come on, Nick, we gotta go!  Boy howdy, but this will be great!  Mother says she won’t even tan our hides for giving George Barnsworth what he deserves!”

 

     Victoria laughed while cocking an eyebrow.  “Boy howdy?  Now there’s an expression I haven’t heard before.”

 

     And somehow, deep inside her soul, Victoria Barkley knew that was one expression she’d come to grow fond of over the many years that were to follow. 

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

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