The Power Of A Mother's Love   

 

By: Kenda

 

(A Missing Scene From The Episode:  By Force And Violence)

 

 

 

    

Jarrod and Audra sat at the parlor table playing checkers.  The Grandfather clock in the foyer dinged nine times as Nick trotted down the stairs.

 

"Jarrod, I'm packed.  We can leave at day break."

 

Jarrod jumped two of his sister's checkers.  "As soon as I beat Audra at this game I'll pack, too.  Then I'm calling it a night."

 

Audra looked from Nick, who was poking at the logs in the fireplace, to Jarrod.  "Do you really think Mother and Heath are in any danger from that escaped prisoner?"

 

Nick placed the poker back in the rack.  He walked over and plopped himself in the chair across from his siblings.

 

"I doubt it.  Like Jarrod said at the supper table, Heath's more than capable of taking care of himself and Mother."

 

"He certainly is."  Jarrod smiled at his sister.  "Don't you worry, sweetie.  You know as well we do that Heath's done a little bit of everything in his life and seen a little bit of everything.  When it comes to facing adversity, there's no man I'd rather have at my side."

 

"Yeah, there's no need to worry," Nick echoed.  "It's just that with Mother and Heath up at the lodge and that escapee in the area...well it would be wise to let them know of the situation."
    

 

"You just want to get a jump on your fishing," Audra teased in an attempt to erase the frowns her brothers were trying to hide from her.  "Every spring when Mother opens the lodge you two are always looking for excuses to be the first ones to the trout stream."

 

"That we are," Jarrod agreed.  "Only this year Heath beat us to it.  He was the lucky dog who didn't have any pressing work when Mother decided it was time to head to the lodge."

 

"Oh, I could have found pressing work for him all right."  Nick leaned forward in his seat to study the checkerboard. "Trouble is, Mother wouldn't hear of it."

 

"That's because each year she rotates who she takes with her to open the lodge," Audra reminded her brothers.  "She likes the opportunity of spending some undivided time with each of her children.  Heath hasn't had his chance for that yet."

 

Jarrod smiled as the conversation continued.  Heath had become such a part of this family that no one even pointed out to Audra their half brother came to them by way of their father.  He was not their mother's biological child.  But then Victoria didn't treat him any differently than she treated her own offspring, and despite the fact Heath had been a grown man when he'd arrived on the ranch, she never hesitated to call him son.  And in turn, the love Heath had for the matriarch of the Barkley family was apparent to all of them.

 

With a wave of his index finger Nick pointed out to Audra all the places on the board where she was making mistakes.  She shot her brother a dirty look. 

 

"I hate it when you do that."

 

“Do what?”

 

"Sit in that chair when I'm in the middle of a game and tell me what moves to make.  Heath never does that."

 

"Oh, he doesn't, does he?  Well, missy, have you ever realized he just sits here and lets you make moves that are going to ultimately cost you the victory?  I would think you'd be grateful for my help."

 

"Well I'm not, thank you very much."

 

Jarrod jumped the last four of Audra's checkers, his game piece giving the wooden board a satisfied bang each time it pounded the surface.  With one hand and a smile he wiped the board clean.

 

"And thank you very much, little sister, for a most enjoyable match."

 

"Humph!"  Audra crossed her arms over her chest while Nick laughed.  "You're only thanking me because you won."

 

As he stood Jarrod leaned over and kissed Audra's cheek.  "Which I do quite often when I'm playing against you.  Heath, on the other hand, gives me a run for my money."

 

"Heath gives all of us a run for our money when it comes to playing checkers.  Or cards for that matter.  He never lost a game of cards to any of us last year at the lodge."

 

"Well, mark my words this year will be different."  Nick pushed himself out of his seat.  Like his older brother, he was going to bed.  "I plan on getting every dime back from him I lost last year and then some."

 

"Good luck."

 

"What's that supposed to mean, little miss?"

 

Jarrod smiled at his siblings and turned for the stairs.  "I'll let you two argue this one out alone.  Nick, I'll meet you down here at five.  We can eat, saddle our horses, and hit the trail."

 

"That's fine. I'll tell Silas what time we'll want breakfast.  Then I'm hittin' the sack, too."

 

"Maybe I should come with you," Audra said while putting the checkers back in their box.

 

Nick and Jarrod exchanged glances.  If there was an escaped killer on the loose near the lodge the last thing they wanted was to put their sister in peril.

 

"No," Jarrod shook his head.  "You stay here and finish that dress you're making for the spring ball.  If everything's okay with Mother and Heath, which I fully expect it will be, I'll be heading right back home.  I've got enough work at the office to keep me busy the rest of the week.  Then you and I will ride up there together on Saturday like we'd planned before this Tamarack situation came up."

 

Audra thought her brothers were being overly protective of her, but she'd sensed their concern ever since Jarrod had brought up the prison break at supper.  Out of respect for that she bowed to their wishes.

 

"All right. I'll stay here and sew even though as of right this moment I don't have anyone to attend the ball with."

 

"What happened to the latest suitor?"  Jarrod asked.

 

Nick bit back his smile.  "She was up half the night writing him a Dear John letter.  Or Dear Bill letter.  Or Dear Sam letter.  Or a Dear Whatever-His-Name-Was letter."

 

"David.  His name was David.  And it's not funny, Nick."

 

"I'm sure by the time the spring ball arrives someone else will be smitten with you, Miss Barkley," Jarrod assured.  "Which is all the more reason for you to stay home tomorrow."

 

"Why?"

 

"So you can go out on the prowl."

 

"Jarrod Barkley, I do not prowl for men."

 

"Whatever you say, baby sister.  And on that note I'll bid both of you good night."

 

"Night, Jarrod."

 

"Good night, Jarrod."

 

Nick headed for the kitchen.  Audra looked up from the book she was reading when he returned to the parlor.

 

"Did you find Silas?"

 

"Yeah.  He'll have breakfast ready for Jarrod and me at five.  What are my chances of seeing you at the table at that time of the morning?"    

 

"The same as your chances of beating Heath at cards."

 

"Hardy, har, har."

 

Audra chuckled at her brother's mock outrage.  "Good night, Nick."

 

"Good night."

 

"Give Mother and Heath a kiss for me when you see them."
    

 

"I'll give Mother a kiss for you.  As far as kissing Heath, you'll have to do that yourself."

 

Nick bent over Audra's chair and kissed her cheek while at the same time undoing the hair clasp on the back of her head.

 

"Nick!"

 

The dark headed man ran for the stairs laughing.  By the time Audra stood to give chase he was shutting the door to his room.

 

"Nicholas Barkley, you haven't changed since you were sixteen years old.  You tormented me then and you still torment me today."

 

Silas entered the parlor to make his final nightly round of the house.

 

"And you love every minute of it if I do say so myself, Miss Audra.  And Mr. Heath, why he teases you just as bad as Mr. Nick does."

 

"You're right, Silas, he does.  Oh why couldn't at least one of those boys have been my sister instead of my brother?"

 

"Now, Miss Audra, I really don't think you'd want it any other way.  Do you?"

 

Audra thought of all the attention and love that was showered on her by her position as the only girl amongst four brothers.  She had to admit, other than the times when they grew irrational over their desire to protect her, it was flattering to be fawned over by such handsome men even if they were her siblings.

 

Audra smiled as her eyes returned to the pages of her book.  "No, Silas, I don't suppose I'd want it any other way."

 

    

BV        BV       BV       BV        BV      BV

    

 

An hour had passed since the bounty hunters rode away.  Victoria Barkley looked up at the night sky and said a silent prayer for Wade Dixon.  The escaped convict helped her free Heath from beneath the tipped wagon.   

 

For whatever reason, after she'd heard his story she believed him innocent of the crime that sent him to Tamarack prison.  Call it woman's intuition, or better yet, mother's intuition.

 

They had no more than gotten Heath out of the mud pit he'd been mired in when the thunder of horses' hooves indicated riders approaching.  Dixon dived for a clump of bushes.  He'd concealed himself in the heavy foliage, his efforts aided by the moonless night. Victoria could almost feel the man holding his breath as she calmly answered the bounty hunters' questions.

 

Yes, she'd heard a rifle shot.

 

No, she didn't know how long ago.

 

Yes, that was her horse up in the woods.

 

No, she hadn't seen anyone in hours. And most certainly not an escaped prisoner.

 

She'd tried to delay the men in their search by enlisting their help in getting Heath back to the ranch.  It came as no surprise to Victoria when they refused.  A bounty hunter after his prey had only one thing on his mind.  Money.

 

Victoria smiled a little at the irony of it all.  She'd have paid the two men far more had they helped her with Heath than Dixon's dead body would garner them from the Tamarack prison authorities.

 

In the hour since the bounty hunters left and Wade Dixon limped off into the thick woods Victoria had built a fire and pulled two supply crates out of the mud.  One crate held the oil lantern, the other she leaned against using it to support her back.  

 

The only blanket she could find that wasn't saturated with muck was wrapped around Heath's shoulders.  She had him propped against her chest, the back of his muddy head resting on her collarbone.

 

She knew for certain his left leg was broken.  He'd also confessed to some cracked ribs when he couldn't help but cry out at her probing fingers.

 

He'd fallen into a fitful sleep thirty minutes earlier, but even so she could feel the shivers course through his body every few seconds.

 

Victoria pondered the logistics of getting Heath home.  She looked at the wagon buried on its side in the mud

 

If only I hadn't gotten in such a hurry to open the lodge.  It could have waited another week or so.  By then the roads would have been passable.  I should have never tried to take the wagon through that washout.  I should have known it would get stuck.  And when Heath asked me if I wanted him to take the reins I should have let him.

 

But that's not how it happened.  Victoria maintained control of the horses while Heath jumped down to push.  But something went terribly wrong.  The wagon broke free of its base.  Victoria flew from the seat, not sure what was happening until she landed on her hands and knees in three feet of mud.  When she turned around the sight that greeted her made her heart skip a beat.  The wagon bed, still loaded with supplies and gear, was laying on top of Heath.  She'd worked for an hour trying to free him out but to no avail.  There'd been no choice but to make him as comfortable as she could and leave to get help.  She'd kissed him on the mouth, promising she'd be back with Nick and some of the ranch hands.

 

Victoria Barkley never got as far as the ranch before she ran across Wade Dixon in the woods.  The ankle chain he wore told his story.  Or at least some of it.  The rest would come much later.  At the time all she wanted was help for Heath.  Dixon refused to come to her aid until the loaded rifle convinced him it would be in his best interest.  The shot the bounty hunters heard had come from Victoria's gun.  She'd blown the chain apart that was strung between the manacles fastened around his ankles.

 

Victoria’s thoughts returned to the present when a distant wolf bayed at the dark sky.  His eerie call roused Heath.

 

"Mother?" 

 

It was odd.  She wasn't the woman who had given birth to him, had only known him for two years, yet when he spoke that word in just that tone she knew exactly who he wanted.

 

"I'm right here, Heath."  

 

He shifted his body in her arms.  He sucked in a sharp breath at the blinding pain that shot up his leg and clamped on his chest like an anvil.

 

"Sweetheart, don't--"

 

"Move," he pushed out between clenched teeth.  "I'll remember that from now on."

 

She kissed his temple.  "That would be a wise idea."

 

Victoria tightened the blanket around Heath's quaking body.  She knew she should get his mud-drenched clothes off of him.  They were only making him colder.  But she had no idea how she'd remove his pants without hurting him, and no idea if he'd even let her.  Without scissors at her disposal it was a moot point anyway.  Unless...

 

"Heath?"  

 

"Yeah?"   

 

"Are you carrying a pocket knife?"

 

"Yes." Heath moved his head enough so he could see Victoria's face.  "In the right front pocket of my pants.  Why?"    

 

"Because I think I should get your pants and shirt off.  You're cold and those mud soaked clothes can't be helping any."

 

"I'm fine."

 

"Heath, you're shivering."

 

"I'm fine."

 

"Heath..."

 

"You can take my shirt off if you want, but my pants are staying on."

 

"Before Doctor Sheridan can set that leg they're going to have to come off."

 

"As long as Doctor Sheridan is the one who takes them off I'll have no problem with that."

 

"What about Jarrod or Nick?"

 

"I can live with either of those choices, too."

 

"But not me?"

 

"Not unless I'm in a coma."

 

"Heath Morgan Barkley, I diapered you..."

 

Victoria stopped there.  She'd gotten so used to thinking of Heath as one of her own children she'd almost said to him what she would have said to Jarrod, or Nick, or Eugene.

 

And Heath knew it.  He gave her a gentle smile. 

 

"No, you didn't."

 

Victoria kissed his temple again.  Her words were soft and tentative.

 

"You're right.  I didn't."

 

It was strange how times like this could focus in the pain of Tom's affair with Heath's mother so sharp and clear.  Heath sensed her disquiet.

 

He lifted his right hand until he came in contact with hers.  He squeezed gently.

 

"I'm sorry."

 

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Heath."

 

"Sometimes I think I do.  Other times I know I do."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

Heath shifted his head so he was staring straight ahead.

 

"If I had known you before I rode on the ranch  I never would have told you who I was."

 

"You mean told me you're Tom's son?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Why?"
    

 

"Because you're the last person on this earth I ever want to hurt.  But before...before I knew you, it didn't matter to me.  You were just a name.   A name that meant nothing because you were simply Tom Barkley's wife.  I never imagined you would become so much more than that."

 

"That's understandable.  I don't think any of us; you, me, Jarrod, Nick, Audra, or Eugene, could have imagined that first day how much a part of our family you would become."

 

"Why'd you do it?"

 

"Why'd I do what?"

 

"Ask me to stay."

 

Victoria thought a long time before answering. 

 

"Because I saw a lonely, heartbroken young man who, despite his anger and hate-filled words, was looking for a family.  Was looking for a place and people he could call his own.  I'll be honest with you, Heath, I didn't like you much that first day you arrived.  As a matter of fact I didn't like you at all."

 

Heath smiled at Victoria's forthrightness.  He hadn't wanted her to like him back then.  As a matter of fact, he wouldn’t have cared if all the Barkleys cursed the ground he walked on.  Or at least that's what he'd told himself the day he arrived on the ranch to claim his inheritance.

 

"But after a few days your attitude quickly improved.  Soon I began to see the real person underneath that bitter exterior.  And the real person was so kind and loving that it was hard not to love him back."

 

"And now you're sittin' here allowing a mud covered cowboy to use you as a pillow.  Who'd have ever thought it, huh?"

 

Victoria gave Heath’s shoulders a squeeze.  "Oh, I don't mind.  I think this mud-covered cowboy is pretty special.  Just as special as my other three cowboys and my cowgirl."

 

"You're too good to me. You always have been."

 

"I beg to differ with you on that point.  But then we've had this discussion in the past."

 

"Yes, we have," Heath acknowledged. "And since we always end up agreeing to disagree I guess it's foolish for us to talk about it again."

 

"I'll second that." 

 

Another shiver made Heath tremble within Victoria's embrace.  She    tightened her hold, trying to transfer more of her body heat to him.  While keeping one arm around Heath she leaned sideways and tossed another log on the fire. 

 

"When day break comes I'll have to leave for help."

 

"I know."

 

"I should be back by early afternoon.  Nick and I will bring a wagon and some men."

 

Heath could tell the woman needed his reassurance that her plan was the best one and that he'd be all right while she was gone.

 

"That's fine.  I'm won't be goin’ anywhere."   

 

"Unless we can get you on one of the horses," Victoria thought out loud.  "Do you think--"

 

"No, Mother.  It'll never work.  Even if you could help me mount a horse without hurting yourself, which I highly doubt, I’ll never be able to swing this leg over.  Don't worry.  I'll be okay here alone."

 

When Victoria didn't answer Heath turned his head again so he could see her face.

 

"What's wrong?  What's bothering you?"

 

"Nothing."

 

"You've been upset ever since those bounty hunters left."

 

"Upset?"

 

"You said you'd tell me about the man who helped you when you got me home.  Maybe you'd better tell me now."

 

"I'd rather you sleep."   

 

"I'd rather sleep, too, but that's not gonna happen."

 

"Is the pain that bad?"
    

 

"Let's put it this way, it smarts.  But I'll live."

 

"Of course you will."

 

Victoria ran a hand through Heath's hair.  The thick strands were brittle now, caked with dried mud and spiked from his head.

 

"I'll have to wash your hair for you after Doctor Sheridan takes care of that leg and those ribs.  That is, of course, if you'll let me."

 

"As long as I have some sort of pants on while you're doin’ it."

 

"I'm sure that can be arranged."

 

"Mother?  The man who helped you?"  

 

"You know, Heath, you're as tenacious as your father was."

 

"I reckon I've been accused of worse."

 

Victoria ignored the teasing in Heath's tone.  She sat a long time running her hand through his hair.  When she spoke her voice was soft and soothing.  For some reason her tone reminded Heath of when he was a little boy and his mother would tell him a story each night before he went to sleep.

 

"He was a young man about your age.  He said his name was Dixon.  Wade Dixon.  His mother left home when he was ten.  He woke up one morning and she was gone.  Her clothes were gone.  Her jewelry was gone.  Even her hairbrush was gone.  She'd left no note.  Nothing for him to remember her by.  When Wade asked his father where she was he'd been told he was to forget her.  To pretend she'd never existed.  Soon his father began leaving him with neighbors and disappearing for weeks at a time.  Wade never knew if his father was looking for his mother, or if he was running from the pain her leaving caused him, or simply running from the responsibilities of being both mother and father to a little boy."

 

Leah Thomson's face came to Heath's mind and he thought of himself at the age of ten.  At that time she was all he had in the entire world.  If he'd woken one day to find her gone he would have been devastated beyond anything words could convey.  When he spoke his voice was as quiet as Victoria's.

 

"It must have been very hard for him."

 

"No doubt it was.  I'm sure he spent many years wondering if she'd left because of him.  If he'd done something to upset her or make her angry.  I'm not sure if, even now, he understood that no woman who is a good mother would ever abandon her child no matter what that child did."

 

"So what happened?" 

 

"He grew up to be a gambler.  Like his father he roamed from town to town.  He didn't say so, but I'm sure his roaming was really a search for the woman who had left him so many years before.

 

"One day he was playing in a card game when he recognized the saloon girl.  She was his mother.  She denied knowing Wade even after he told her who he was.  Later that same day he had a fight with another man over a hand of cards.  He said he shot the man in self-defense.  That the man drew on him first.  Wade said his mother was the only witness.  When the sheriff questioned her about the shooting he said she lied.  He said she claimed he was guilty of murder even though she knew that wasn’t the truth."

 

"And you believed him."

 

"Yes, I believed him.  Don't ask me why or how.  Call it mother's intuition.  But for some reason I believed every word he said."

 

"Which was why you didn't turn him into those bounty hunters."

 

"Yes, that's why."

 

The pair fell into a lengthy silence, each privately reviewing Victoria's story.  It was Heath who finally spoke.