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Part One
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By Kellie L.
Setup: Time frame is concurrent with the show. Heath has been living with the Barkleys for two months. In order to make Nick's rank as a lieutenant more believable I have bumped his age up by two years. Jarrod is 32, Nick is 30, Heath is 24 and Audra is 19. Eugene does not exist. For the full story of the State Fair follow the link to The Barkley Library on my home page. Look for Keesha under authors, I promise you won't regret it. A special thank you to Keesha for permission to refer to her wonderful story.
She still couldn't believe her son could hurt his family so deeply. Had she failed in his upbringing somehow? No, he had been raised better than to do such a thing. He had been taught right and wrong and had an excellent example to follow in his parents. So what went wrong? With her son dead and buried she knew that answer would never come. She had been able to read the hurt through the words in her daughter-in-law's letter and knew her grandchildren would be just as hurt and feel just as betrayed by what their father had done. She knew that she would be welcome but maybe she should let them know she was coming. Yes, at the next stop she would send a wire and give them forewarning. And the poor innocent victim....no, she couldn't, wouldn't think about it. It would only cause her to start crying again.
Looking for something, anything to distract her thoughts she noticed a young man approaching the stage. Good, she thought, I will have some company during this leg of my journey. Hopefully the boy will be talkative. Just the thing I need to keep my mind from what I will be facing when I arrive at my destination.
As the young man climbed into the stage she eyed him closely. He was a handsome young fellow in a rugged way with sandy blond hair and light blue eyes. She liked him immediately. She had met many people in her life and was a good judge of character. His eyes told her he was a trustworthy, courageous and honest young man. His hands and tanned complexion told her he was an outdoorsman and hard worker. Well, no time like the present to make an introduction. He had settled in the seat directly across from her. When he finally glanced up she smiled at him.
"Hello, young man, my name is Katherine but everyone calls me Kate." She smiled to herself when he mumbled a response.
"I'm Heath." Nothing more and his lowered eyes and blushing face added some very important details about his character: he was quiet natured, bashful and uncomfortable around strangers and, most assuredly, would not be talkative. That was all right with Kate. After all, her own beloved husband, God rest his soul, had been just the same. She knew how to deal with the quiet ones and felt sure she would be able to get him to open up a little.
With a loud "Get up there" and a crack of the whip the stage lurched into motion. Heath was grateful the lady had fallen into silence. One look was all it took to let him know she wouldn't remain silent but at least for now she was giving him his space. She was a beautiful woman with silver hair, slate blue eyes and a warm, friendly smile. She exuded the same self-confidence and determination that he saw in his stepmother. She was probably in her mid to late 70s but looked much younger. Her figure was still trim, her skin radiant and her eyes lively and vibrant. At first look she appeared delicate and fragile but Heath had been raised by three women like her and instinctively knew she would be formidable in any situation and had known hardship and hard work in her life. She was definitely not a woman who would quietly sit in the corner and say "Yes, dear, whatever you wish." Settling back he pulled his hat low so the brim blocked out some of the light and waited for the inevitable conversation he knew was to come. Boy howdy, this trip was going to be long and arduous. He had no idea how correct his premonition would prove to be.
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Boy howdy, this lady was good. Here he was expecting her to start a conversation and finding instead that he was on the verge of taking that step himself. They had been traveling for nearly an hour and she had said not a word since introducing herself at the beginning of their journey. Heath had never been around anyone who could resist the urge to try and make him talk for such a long period of time. He was always the holdout but not this time.
"Have you been traveling for long, Ma'am?" Kate fought to keep the smile from her face. This was exactly how she had managed to get her husband to talk during their first meeting many, many years ago. Well, no one could say that she couldn't be silent when called upon and she definitely didn't lack in good ole mule headed stubbornness.
"Yes, I have. This little trip started in Virginia. It is my first trip across the country. Should have done it long ago but I can't avoid it now. I have some very important family business to attend to. And, please, call me Kate. Ma'am makes it sound like I'm an old woman." Heath blushed in shame until he saw the teasing smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
He said no more and Kate took his conversational opening as an invitation to continue the verbal communication.
"And what about you? Is this a long or short trip for you?"
"Short. I was checking on the condition of a mine owned by my family. I'm headed ho....back now." Kate was puzzled by his hesitation. She was positive he was going to say home but for some reason changed his mind. She sensed this would be a sensitive topic for the boy and, since she wasn't well enough acquainted with him, chose to let it drop. For now, anyway.
"So where is your family?" At least that phrasing would tell her where he lived without using the word home.
"Stockton, Ma'am. Umm...I mean Mrs. Kate." She chuckled softly. The boy has been brought up right. He's uncomfortable calling me by my first name. I guess Mrs. Kate is as close as he can bring himself to it. Actually she liked the ring it had coming from his soft spoken voice.
"My destination is also Stockton. Maybe we can spend a little time together while I'm there. Have dinner together maybe."
"Yeah, maybe." He was mumbling again. She had pushed just a little too far. It had been so long since she had to play this particular game and she was a little rusty. She hadn't lost him completely and wisely she decided to let the conversation lapse until he regained some of the ease he had been feeling earlier.
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Heath was relieved. This lady had an amazing way of sensing his feelings and her suggestion of spending time together had caused him to feel nervous and she knew it. He still didn't enjoy the company of others, preferring the quiet and solitude of a loner's life. Really he wouldn't mind being with others so much if it weren't for the constant gabbing. Because of his lack of education he felt like a backward and ignorant country boy when those around him were discussing certain issues and topics. He really didn't want to be alone in the world anymore but just wished he could experience the comfort and support from the presence of others without having to communicate with them verbally.
This lady seemed to have picked up on that and was willing to let him be near her without a steady stream of conversation. He was beginning to feel comfortable again. Maybe in a little bit he would ask her some more questions. She intrigued him and for some unknown reason he felt a connection to her and wanted to learn more about her life.
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Ten minutes passed. The trip was going smoothly when suddenly the driver's body tumbled to the ground. Heath only had a few seconds to realize that he hadn't heard a gunshot. The man's body hitting the ground had spooked the team and now they bolted. Heath opened the door and prepared to attempt to make it to the driver's seat. A gentle hand firmly gripped his arm. He looked to see the concern in her eyes.
"Be careful, Heath." He smiled, nodded his head and began his dangerous mission.
It was tricky but he successfully made it to the driver's seat. Of all the rotten luck, the reins had fallen and were now dragging on the ground. His only chance to stop the team lie in his ability to make the leap onto the back of one of them. He closed his eyes, said a prayer and, opening his eyes, jumped. He felt a moment of joy as he landed squarely on the back of one of the horses. His elation was to be brief, though. No sooner than he grabbed the reins to pull the team in than the animal he was on stumbled. His body was catapulted forward and flew nearly thirty feet before landing. The horse's stumble started a chain reaction. The horse next to him was pulled down also and in the rolling, jumbled tangle the stage was overturned. Heath, however, was unaware of what was happening. He had lost consciousness immediately upon striking the ground.
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Heath's eyes opened slowly. His head was throbbing, his heart pounding and his whole body screamed in pain. Yet through all of this the hand tenderly caressing his cheek and the gentle, comforting voice cooing his name calmed him. Gradually the blurred figure before him became distinguishable as his vision cleared. Kate smiled in relief to see his eyes open and the spark of recognition in them. She really did like this boy and he had her terribly worried there for a while. Spotting the bruise on her cheekbone he gently touched it with his fingertips and silently questioned with his eyes.
"Oh, it's nothing, Heath. Just a bump from the stage turning over." Heath turned his head to see the stage lying on its side and both horses lying on the ground.
"The horses?"
"One was killed outright. I had to put the other one down. Hope you don't mind but I had to use your gun."
"No, I don't mind. It wouldn't have been right to let the animal suffer. What about the driver?"
"Dead. He must have suffered a heart attack. I managed to gather enough rocks to cover his body properly. Burial would have been better but under the circumstances I did the best I could with what I had." He was right: for all of her class this lady was not afraid of hard work or getting her hands dirty.
"How long have I been out?"
"Several hours and I'll have you know, young man, that it is not nice or wise to frighten an old lady so." Heath grunted in pain as he struggled to sit up. Kate firmly pressed her hands against his shoulders, pushing him back down.
"You're not going anywhere just yet. With the horse and the driver I haven't had time to check you over. Just lie still and I'll get this over with quickly." Her hands roamed expertly and rapidly from head to toe, pausing over areas that elicited groans or where she detected possible injuries. Normally Heath would refuse to allow a strange woman to examine his body but her words and expression left no doubt that she not only expected to but also WOULD be obeyed. Besides, her grandmotherly demeanor set him at ease and, surprisingly, he failed to experience any embarrassment. True enough she finished quickly.
"Well, darling, considering the distance you traveled to land on this spot you got off lucky. Your left forearm is broken, you have several broken ribs, and a nasty cut on your head. Nothing I can't patch up for you, although I suspect you will be mighty sore all over for a few days."
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She was something else. After a brief trip to the stage she had returned with a petticoat from her luggage, a canteen of water, two slats of wood broken off from some part of the stage, a strand of hair from the tail of a horse and a small wooden box.
Wasting no time she tore the petticoat into four pieces. She used the largest one to bound his ribs then helped him over to a tree. Once he was sitting down leaning against the tree she began the task of setting his broken arm. With one good yank she aligned the bone and, tucking it under her arm to maintain traction, she rapidly used the wooden slats and another piece of the petticoat to splint it in place. A third piece of cloth was fashioned into a sling.
Opening the box she retrieved a sewing needle and threaded the horsehair through the eye. After cleaning the cut on the side of his head with water she closed it with stitches. Using the last and smallest remnant of the petticoat she securely bound the head wound.
She now had a fire roaring and him warmly wrapped in a blanket. Just before he drifted off to sleep Heath thought he couldn't have been more fortunate than if there had been a doctor on the stage with him.
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Heath's discomfort awoke him in the early morning hours. It was still dark but the glow cast by the fire showed Kate sitting beside him. She was bright eyed and alert. For all the previous day had demanded of her she had retained all of her class and dignity. He closed his eyes as her hand descended to rest momentarily on his forehead. When the hand was removed he opened them again. Smiling she rearranged his blanket.
"Just a slight fever, not surprising at all. How are you feeling? Any nausea or blurred vision?" Heath started to shake his head but quickly decided that was a bad idea. With her assistance he rose to a seated position.
"No, just a whopping headache and I ache all over." She snuggled the blanket tightly around his body to prevent him from becoming chilled. He looked into her twinkling eyes. They were always dancing with emotion and so full of life.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course." Heath paused, cleared his throat and finally forged ahead.
"Where did you learn how to take care of injuries? I mean it seems to me like you have quite a bit of experience." Her lilting laughter cheered him. Her voice was brimming with joyful memories as she answered.
"Well, I raised two mischievous and rowdy boys who always managed to come home with bumps and scrapes. Even my husband had his share of misadventures." The joy left her voice. It became harsh and cold while her expression took on a far away look.
"Most of my experience is courtesy of the war, however. In Virginia there were battles raging all around us. On several occasions they occurred right in our front yard. Oh, those poor boys. There were always more wounded soldiers than there were medical personnel to tend them. So I did what I could to help. Johnny rebs or blue bellies, it didn't matter to me. As far as I was concerned each one of them was little more than a frightened child who needed a mother's attention. In the beginning I had no idea how to properly care for the more severe injuries, all I could offer them was a mother's love, touch and compassion. Sadly, I was exposed to so many grievous injuries that in time I became quite skilled in treating them. War is such an ugly and useless waste of life."
It took several moments for her thoughts to leave that awful time and return to the present. She was surprised to see the young man beside her lost in his own memories and shocked by his haunted, pained expression. Softly she laid a hand on his arm and whispered his name.
"Heath?" Slowly his eyes cleared.
"I know. I hated the battlefield. I hated seeing friends die. But most of all I hated killing other men. There was only one man I would have enjoyed killing. The commander of Carterson prison had made it personal for me." Kate was stunned.
"Oh, Heath. How old are you, dear? Surely you were too young to have fought."
"I'm twenty-four. I was twelve when I joined. They didn't care. I was just another pair of hands to hold and fire a rifle. I spent seven months in Carterson, celebrated my thirteenth birthday in that hell hole shortly before the war ended." Remembering the raised scars she had felt on his back when she examined him earlier she again placed her hand over the welts. She felt his muscles tense and his entire body stiffen.
"And these scars? You received them at Carterson?"
"Yes."
"May I take a look?" Unable to speak he simply nodded his head. As she removed the blanket and his shirt his mind was racing. Why had he agreed to let her see his back? He had not let anyone, not his Mother or even his newly found brothers, see his bare back since the day he had walked away from the army hospital eleven years ago. Yet here he was allowing a practical stranger to do so. What was it about this lady that made him feel comfortable enough to open up and let her view a painful and private part of his past?
With his back exposed he leaned forward slightly. She gasped at the sight but before he could cover the evidence of his shame she laid a hand over the scars. Gently and with overwhelming love and sorrow she rubbed her hand over his entire back.
He now knew why he had wanted her to take a look: like the soldiers she had tended, deep down he had been nothing more than a frightened child who needed a mother. But, unlike those soldiers, he had been denied a mother's touch and compassion when he needed it most. He began to sob uncontrollably. Without a word she covered him with the blanket, pulled him into her embrace and let him cry out all of the hate and shame that had been poisoning his mind, body and spirit. Heath held her tightly, knowing if he let go of her healing embrace too soon he might be lost forever.
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When Heath's eyes next opened he was still wrapped in Kate's arms. For the first time in many years he felt as if he might finally have a chance to live a normal life free of old demons and fears brought by war. And he owed it all to this marvelous lady.
Glancing up into her face he discovered she was wide-awake and still looked as refreshed as if she had put in a good night's rest, which she hadn't. Could she be human? Maybe she was just an angel who would disappear the instant he took his eyes from her. Smiling he forced the thought from his mind.
"Good morning, Mrs. Kate."
"And good morning to you, handsome." Blushing Heath looked for anything to cover how awkward her comment made him feel. What he found was nothing more than a disguise to hide his embarrassment but a sensible one. Heath nodded toward the two dead horses.
"We had better move on. Before long the air around here will become awful unpleasant." Kate understood what Heath was referring to but she was also concerned for his health.
"Yes, it won't be much longer before we will start to notice an odor but I'm not sure you are ready for any long walks just yet." Heath patted her hand.
"I'll be fine. We only need to walk about a mile or two then we can pick a spot we like and wait for the next stage to come through." Kate wasn't pleased but she knew two things: he was correct about needing to move to a place where they wouldn't be choked by the odor of decay and he was too stubborn for her to change his mind.
"All right, Heath, but this will NOT be a forced march. We will take regular and lengthy rest stops. I'm too old and you're injured so we will be sensible in how we go about this, understood?" Receiving only a nod and no argument she began gathering some items they would need.
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With the constant breaks it took them nearly three hours to cover a mile and a half. Deciding they had traveled far enough they chose to make their camp under a grove of trees near a stream. They would have a source of fresh water handy in this spot, ample shade and there was plenty of small game to be seen.
Heath had been annoyed with the number of items Kate had insisted upon bringing with them but as he watched her now he was impressed with her foresight and her knowledge of how to set up a camp.
Laying the tarp that had been used to cover the luggage on the ground she trudged into the woods and returned with five sturdy tree branches. She pulled a knife out of her little bundle of treasures and trimmed two of the branches to a length of about three feet and another two about four feet, whittling one end of each to a sharp point. The knife must have belonged to the stage driver. Seeing she intended to erect a lean-to Heath moved to help, which gained an immediate response from her. Once again she placed her hand on his forehead and, frowning, slid the hand down to temporarily lie against his cheek.
"Just as I suspected, our little walk has elevated your temperature. I want you to sit down and rest right now, young man. I can handle this myself." Heath enjoyed being on this lady's good side and feared incurring her wrath so, reluctantly, he obeyed.
She had definitely done this before. With a thick, solid stick of wood from her bundle she pounded the four-foot branches into the ground using the length of the tarp for a measurement. Moving the tarp she then pounded the three-foot branches into the ground using the width of the tarp for measurement this time. They were placed about three feet directly behind the first two she had set and together they formed the four corners of the lean-to.
With the frame now constructed she laid the tarp over the branches. It was a perfect fit with the back and sides draping down to the ground and the front slightly higher than the back to allow for runoff of any possible rain. Heath was duly impressed but knew the hardest part of a lean-to was to figure an effective way to keep the cover from blowing off in the wind. He shouldn't have doubted her skills or creativity.
Next she withdrew four strands of horsehair from her precious bundle of goodies and a thick sewing needle. Threading one hair she began passing it through the tarp and weaving it around the branch that made up the right front support of their lean-to. She did the same with the other three corners. When she was finished she had the tarp solidly tied to all four corner posts.
Taking the last tree branch she began to cut it into one-foot sections. She then whittled one end of each piece to a point to form eight crudely made but very functional stakes. She pounded two on each side of their shelter and four along the back, passing through the material of the tarp and driving them deep into the ground. Now completed the lean-to was approximately six feet in length and three feet in width. Straightening her back Kate wiped her hands and looked at Heath.
"So, what do you think?" Heath laughed and shook his head.
"I think it would take the winds of a hurricane to tear that shelter apart. You are some lady, Mrs. Kate." This time it was Kate who blushed in embarrassment.
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Not only was Kate skilled at building a campsite but she was also an excellent shot, forager and cook. She returned from her hunting trip with a nice sized rabbit, some wild onions, polk leaves, mushrooms and blackberries. Soon they were dining on succulent rabbit meat saturated with the flavor of onions and a wonderful tasting concoction of fried onions, polk and mushrooms. For dessert they enjoyed the blackberries.
With full bellies they settled under the lean-to for the night. Before sleep could overtake their exhausted bodies Kate protectively wrapped her arms around the young man she was becoming so fond of and asked a question.
"Heath, do you know when the next stage will be passing by?"
"That stage line only makes this trip once a week so five more days. Unless someone was expecting you at the next stop I doubt anyone will be concerned enough by our failure to arrive to come looking. Lots of times there are no passengers for this route so it is common for there to be a week or even two without the stage passing through the next town. Why do you ask?" She brushed a hand through his hair and absentmindedly placed a kiss on his temple.
"Oh, no reason. I was just curious. Now close your eyes and get some sleep." As Heath's breathing became slow and even with the onset of sleep Kate still lay awake. There was a reason, all right. Although she enjoyed being with this boy and the matter she needed to confront would still be there when she arrived Kate desperately wanted to see her family, one member in particular.
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Kate spent the following day battling to control Heath's fluctuating temperature. She knew it had been too early for the boy to exert himself and now he was paying for it dearly.
All morning she fussed and pleaded but he adamantly refused to allow her to try what she wanted. By late afternoon, however, he was so miserable and ached so bad with his fever that he finally gave in to her wishes.
He used his last remaining ounce of strength to walk to the stream bank where he collapsed in exhaustion. Without her assistance he wouldn't have been able to make it even that short distance. Kate immediately began to tug his clothing off. Heath was too weak to be of much help. He closed his eyes. Why am I so upset? She was married and raised two sons. She nursed wounded soldiers. The male body holds no mysteries or surprises for this lady. Gradually the logic behind these thoughts erased his embarrassment and discomfort.
When his clothing was finally removed together they eased his body into the water. Kate lay on the embankment on her side and supported his head with one hand while continuously wetting his forehead and face with the other.
The cool water worked its magic and an hour later she dried him off, helped him return to the lean-to and bundled his body in a blanket. With his permission she left him unclothed in case his temperature were to rise again and another submersion would be required. Luckily her plan did the trick and the fever remained under control until the following morning when his temperature returned to normal and stayed there.
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The next three days flew by quickly. Kate shared stories of her childhood in Virginia, her meeting, courtship and marriage to "my darling, Robert" and of her sons Ty and Jaime.
Heath happily recounted tales of his Mother, Aunt Rachel and Hannah with such clarity and detail that Kate could vividly picture each woman in her mind's eye. He went on and on about his Mother. The tone of his voice and softness in his eyes conveyed the devotion, love and admiration he carried for the woman who had given him birth.
With an eerily sad and regretful quality to his voice he told of leaving home at twelve years of age to ease the burden he believed his presence had caused his Mother. And how he now realized his absence had been more of a burden on her than his presence had ever been and his remorse for adding to her pain by running away. He shared his utter devastation when she had passed away four years ago.
Haltingly he told her of the horrors of life in a prisoner of war camp. The filthy conditions, the cramping hunger pains of starvation, the fighting amongst the prisoners for a morsel of food or a parcel of dirt to sleep upon, the terror in a young boy's heart caused by dying screams echoing through the night, the biting sting of the whip and the excruciating pain as boots, clubs and fists rained down to thud against his body.
"What about your Father, Heath? You haven't mentioned him." She noticed how he tensed and his jaw line set in anger.
"I never knew him."
"Did he die when you were young?" Heath ran the hand of his uninjured arm through his hair and shook his head.
"No. He and my Mother weren't....were never married. I don't know if he was even aware I existed." With growing uneasiness she watched his hands clench into white knuckled fists. "Even if he wasn't it doesn't matter. He slept with her and never bothered to check if he had left her with a child. The life of a bastard is a living hell, especially growing up in a small place like Strawberry. The fights at school became so frequent that it was strongly suggested to my Mother that I be kept at home. I was only seven years old and for all intents and purposes my formal education was over."
"By the time I was eight I was working full time at three jobs to help make ends meet. No kid should have to worry about where his next meal is coming from. Many nights I went to bed with a gnawing hunger in my belly and a black eye or split lip from defending my Mother's honor. Because of my Father my Mother was ostracized and I was robbed of my childhood. For that I can never forgive him."
Kate had moved away from Heath and was now standing with her back to him. The disgrace of it all sickened her. How could she face him now without showing the shame she felt?
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Kate was visibly shaken. Heath must be the one. What would the odds be that another young man living in Stockton had been born and raised out of wedlock and was now part of a family wealthy enough to own a mine? Her worst fears were true: her son's sin had brought unspeakable heartache, suffering and pain to an innocent child. As the mother of this boy's father she believed herself to be partly responsible and tears of shame and remorse rolled down her cheeks. Silently she cursed the ignorance and hatefulness that had caused people to verbally and physically torment her youngest grandson.
Yes, my grandson. This boy carries my blood and will pass it on to his own children one day. He's a part of me and I'm a part of him. I've never come to love someone so quickly as I have this young man and now I know why. While her heart was breaking for all the hardships he had suffered it was also swelling with pride. No woman could ask for a finer grandchild. He was physically and morally strong, intelligent despite his lack of education, handsome, kind, thoughtful and compassionate. My son, despite your failure where this boy is concerned he has grown into a man to be proud of.
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Heath had experienced this before after revealing his heritage to others but it cut deeply to have Kate shun him. He had thought she would understand and that he could trust her with his innermost secrets. He felt the all too familiar vise clamping tighter and tighter on his chest. She wouldn't even face him now.
"I'm sorry, Ma'am. The last thing you needed to hear was that you have spent nearly a week in the company of someone little better than trash. But I want you to know that my Mother was not a whore. She was a good woman who fell in love with the wrong man. Nothing more, nothing less." Kate spun around. The hurt and despair in his voice pained her. Tightly clutching the beautifully carved wooden box to her chest and with tears in her eyes she tried to explain.
"Heath, I would never..."
"You don't have to say anything. You have the right to hate me because of what I am." That did it, now she was angry. Heath had turned to walk away.
"HEATH BARKLEY!" He froze and slowly turned back around.
"How do you know my last name? I never told you." She approached until she was standing just inches from him and laid a hand on his cheek.
"Please, sit down and let me have my say." Stunned and confused he did as she requested. Sitting down beside him she placed the small box on her lap and grasped his right hand with both of hers. She gazed intensely into his eyes.
"First I want you to understand that I have no ill thoughts toward your Mother. Only a fine, upstanding woman would keep and raise a child in her situation. I can only imagine the courage it took for her to defiantly face the prejudices of an entire town. I have nothing but admiration for the woman who brought you up and taught you how to be the gentleman you have become. I want you to know that I am not the type of small-minded person who would blame someone for the circumstances of his birth. Circumstances over which he had no control. And no one, absolutely no one, has the right to hate you simply because you were born out of wedlock."
"Then why did you turn away from me?" Kate sighed deeply, took a well-worn letter from her box and, regaining her hold, squeezed his hand tightly.
"I was trying to collect my thoughts. It may seem as if I'm straying off course here but bear with me. The family business I need to attend to concerns this letter. I received it nearly one month ago from my daughter-in-law. Over twenty years ago her husband, my son Ty, was unfaithful to their wedding vows. The affair produced a male child. Only recently did he discover who his father was and revealed himself to his father's family." Heath began to tremble and she sensed that if she released her grip on his hand he would bolt.
"I am angry by how my son's thoughtlessness has hurt his wife and children, especially the son left to face a cruel world without his father. A world made more cruel because of his father's absence." Heath's face was a mask of pain, insecurity and confusion. With the palm of his right hand resting in the palm of her left one she began to reassuringly rub its top with her other hand.
"I feel unbelievably guilty, after all I am the woman who raised Ty and apparently I failed in his upbringing. I believe it is my responsibility to help my daughter-in-law and my grandchildren, ALL of my grandchildren, through the healing process. That is the reason I am making this trip to Stockton. But most of all I wanted to meet the grandson I never knew existed until this letter arrived." The trembling had ceased but his breathing had become shallow and rapid. Positive he would no longer run away she reached up, took his face in her hands and lifted his head until their eyes met.
"I never dreamed I would meet him during a stagecoach ride. Or that he would be such an outstanding and magnificent young man. Heath, my precious grandson, you are so much more than I wished for. I am proud to call you my grandson and will proclaim it to everyone with my head held high."
"But how can it be? You said your son's name was Ty. My Father's name was Tom."
"Yes, I know. Ty stood for Thomas Yancy and Jaime was my nickname for James."
"So it's true, you are my Grandmother?" With tears glistening in her eyes she was only able to manage a whisper.
"Yes."
The classy old lady and the young cowboy who until a few short days ago had merely been strangers on a stage held each other tight, forming and cementing the bond between a gentle and loving grandmother and a devoted and caring grandson which would last for the rest of their lives and beyond.
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Fortunately the stage arrived early the next morning and picked up the two stranded and bedraggled passengers. Kate could tell how painful the bumpy ride was for Heath's broken ribs. She knew he would be more comfortable lying down but there were already four other passengers aboard, leaving no room. She had felt helpless as she listened to his soft moans and watched the pinched expression that accompanied each jarring jolt.
At Kate's dogged insistence Heath hesitantly agreed to be seen by the town doctor at their next stop. While nervously waiting to be called into the examination room he tensely explained to her about his unease where physicians were concerned. He had always been fairly healthy and what few injuries and illnesses he had as a youngster had been easily handled by his mother. His only experiences with doctors occurred after his release from Carterson and had led to the revelation of his mother's terminal illness, leaving him with the feeling that doctors were mainly bringers of bad news. When the doctor indicated he was ready Heath clasped his grandmother's hand. With her encouragement he rose and followed her toward the exam room. The doctor was still standing in the doorway.
"I'm Dr. William Ford. And your names?" Heath's thoughts were currently consumed by his dread of what was to come so Kate answered for them both.
"I'm Kate Barkley and this young man is Heath Barkley, my grandson."
"Pleasure to meet you both. My wife will gladly provide you with refreshments while I check Heath over, Mrs. Barkley." Heath's grip tightened on her hand.
"I'm afraid a doctor visit is not very high on Heath's list of favorite activities. I think he will be more comfortable if I stay." Heath finally regained his voice and confirmed his grandmother's statement with one word.
"Definitely." Dr. Ford smiled as he noticed the young man before him breaking out in a sweat. Stepping aside, he gestured toward the room's interior.
"As you wish." He immediately began questioning Heath upon closing the door.
"Please take a seat on the exam table. Now, tell me exactly how you were injured." Heath recounted the accident, his subsequent flight through the air and the injuries he had sustained. Dr. Ford listened closely then nodded his head.
"Go ahead and remove your shirt. Any injuries or pain in your lower extremities, hips or pelvis?"
"No."
"No need for you to remove your pants, then." Helping Heath strip off his shirt Kate watched his reddening face and marveled at her youngest grandson's extreme modesty. Even just the mention and thought of being totally undressed in the presence of others deeply embarrassed him.
After removing the bandaging Dr. Ford placed his stethoscope on the left side of Heath's back and had him breathe deeply and hold it. Sliding the stethoscope down about two inches he repeated the process. He noticed the scars on Heath's back and glanced at Kate. She shook her head and was grateful he chose to let it drop. The same procedure was performed on the right side and on both sides of Heath's chest. Next he palpated the ribs causing Heath to stiffen and squint his eyes in pain. He still had a firm grasp on Kate's hand as she lovingly rubbed his shoulder. Dr. Ford related his findings as he began to securely bind the ribs with a roll of bandage and tape.
"Your lungs sound fine. No wheezing or rattling, which is excellent news. The bandaging and tape I'm using is sturdier than what I took off so it will provide better support. Now let's take a look at that arm." Quickly and efficiently he removed the splint while Kate supported the fracture site. He was amazed by the precision with which Kate had set the arm. All swelling was gone mainly due to the repeated soakings in the stream Kate had suggested. Thirty minutes later Heath's broken arm was safely encased within a plaster cast and supported by a sling.
Lastly the doctor examined and removed the stitches on the head wound. After cleaning and disinfecting the site he dressed and bandaged it.
"Any loss of consciousness?" He directed this question to Kate.
"Yes, he was unconscious for several hours."
"The truth, Heath, any dizziness, nausea, blurred vision or headaches?"
"No nausea and my vision was only blurry when I first woke up after the accident. I had been dizzy and had headaches but not in the last two days."
"Sounds like a concussion. I suggest taking it easy for several more days." Heath eagerly reached for his shirt but the doctor placed a restraining hand on his forearm.
"Hold it, young man. I know you want out of here but I'm not done yet." Gently he pushed Heath back. "Lie down flat. Relax, just relax." Dr. Ford examined Heath's belly, pelvis and legs.
"They're okay, Doc. I told you."
"I know but let's just say I won't feel right letting you leave here until you are completely checked out." Heath sighed and resignedly endured the rest of Dr. Ford's ministrations. When finished he gave Heath and Kate instructions for continued care of the injuries. Heath paid him and, along with his grandmother, thanked the doctor for his services. As he was leaving Heath thought that maybe doctors were all right after all.
That night in bed Dr. Ford commented to his wife about the special relationship the grandmother and grandson seemed to share. He admired the trust the young man had showed in his grandmother and her patience and understanding for his situation. He wondered aloud if the lady had actually raised the boy. He would have found it hard to believe and been shocked to discover that the two had only just met.
Kate and Heath each secured a room at the hotel, cleaned up and ate together in the hotel's dining room. Retiring to their rooms for the night they fell asleep knowing tomorrow they would begin the last leg of their journey to Stockton. One was feeling excitement and the other was feeling apprehension.
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Sitting bolt-upright Heath was once again suffering from the tortures of a rough road. With no other passengers for company Kate saw no reason or need for her grandson to tolerate such discomfort. Heath allowed her to ease him onto his back with his head resting on her lap. The last portion of their trip would take the entire day and they would not arrive in Stockton much earlier than 6:00 p.m. To pass the time Kate wanted to learn more about Heath's life. While finger brushing his soft blond hair she urged him to share stories of his childhood.
He gave detailed descriptions of his first three jobs. Because of his love for horses he had liked working as a livery stable boy and at a nearby ranch but hated working odd jobs at his uncle's hotel. His mother knew and approved of the first two but was unaware of the third. Leah Thomson and her brother never spoke, making it easy for him to hide from her the fact he was working for the man. His uncle was brutal and heavy handed but paid him fairly well and he needed the money to help his mother. If she had known he was working at the hotel she would have put an immediate end to it. She had already forbidden him from taking a job at the mine. Kate was heartbroken as she listened. His childhood had been filled with so much strife and hardship. Surely he had some pleasant memories to accompany the bad.
"Heath, what is your favorite memory from when you were a child?" His brow furrowed momentarily then gradually a smile brightened his face.
"I always looked forward to Christmas and Thanksgiving. Mama couldn't afford presents or fancy food but she would always take those two days off. We would spend the whole day together talking, playing games, laughing and hugging. Having my Mama all to myself was the only gift I ever received or needed. But I would have to say my favorite is the time we went to the state fair."
"Tell me about it. What made it so special?"
"We were so poor but Mama set aside some money and we rode to the fair in a wagon with several other people. I was eight years old at the time and was bustin' with excitement. I planned to see and do everything possible in the three days we would be there. When we finally arrived I was in such a hurry to start my adventure that I caused Mama to trip and sprain her ankle. By the time I helped her up and to a nearby bench seat it was already starting to swell. She could barely walk and I just knew my trip to the fair was over before it had even begun but Mama gave me some money and told me to go enjoy the fair. Her only request was that I check in with her throughout the day. Mama understood what that trip meant to me and wasn't going to let anything ruin it. She was really something special." Heath grew quiet as memories of his mother flooded his mind.
"She sounds like such a wonderful woman. I wish I could have met her." Heath peered intently into Kate's eyes and realized she wasn't just saying that to pacify him. She really meant it.
"Yeah, she was. She knew me better than anybody. What I was feeling and thinking, my fears and what hopes and plans I had for the future. Nobody has ever understood me so well, until now that is." Kate knew Heath felt awkward saying this but instead of breaking eye contact he stared at her deeply, conveying his love and gratefulness for her with his sky blue eyes. She gently caressed his cheek as joyful tears rolled down her own. With a slight shake of his head he continued his story.
"Anyway, I headed for the horse corral first off. A lot of people were already looking at the horses. It was so crowded I had to push my way to the front. There was a man with his two sons right by the fence and I nudged the younger son trying to get close enough to see the horses myself. He was around thirteen or fourteen years old with dark brown hair. What I remember most about him, though, were his hazel eyes and at that moment they were glaring at me with open hostility. We didn't like each other very much at that first meeting but eventually we became friends. Heck, I can still hear him calling me a little horse turd for pushing him and his father getting on to him for saying it."
"Our second meeting started off as bad as the first one ended. I was really hungry but everything seemed so expensive. I noticed a sign up for the pie-eating contest. I didn't care about winning, I just figured it would be a good, honest way to get a free meal so I signed up. Lo and behold if the kid sitting next to me wasn't the same one from the corral. His expression convinced me it would be in my best interest to give him plenty of room so I did. By the time I finished my third pie I was full but stubborn pride and the fact he was still going strong made me dive into a fourth pie. When time was up some other kid was announced the winner by eating seven pies. The kid next to me said it was no wonder he won since he had a mouth like a bullfrog. I started laughing so hard that I barely had time to run behind a tree before throwing up. He was actually concerned enough to follow and check on me but I was embarrassed to be caught throwing up so when his father called him and he looked away I ran off."
"We ran into each other one more time that day at the pig catching contest. The idea was to catch a pig and drag it over to the judges to be weighed. Whoever caught the biggest pig would win ten dollars. Somehow we picked the same pig and before all was said and done we teamed together to get the animal over to the judges. There was some protest but in the end we were declared the winners and split the ten dollars."
"The second day I headed straight to the corrals. Hardly anyone was there that early so I climbed on the fence and watched the horses. Four older boys walked up and decided to entertain themselves by picking on a little kid. Before long I was curled on the ground trying to protect myself when suddenly someone began pulling them off me. After the other boys took off I was finally able to see who had helped me. It was that same boy from the day before. He was the first person other than Mama, Rachel or Hannah who cared enough to defend and fight for me. It was a strange feeling, almost like having a big brother protecting me."
"The next morning he let me ride the horse his father had bought him and asked me to watch him compete in the shooting contest. I thought he was the luckiest boy in the world; he had a father who loved him, knew how to fight and had his own horse and rifle. He wasn't just my friend but my hero. We competed together in the three legged and wheelbarrow races and he coached me to win my wrestling match. I took home several ribbons and still have them to this day. His father even asked me to be on their team in the family tug of war and we won. I recall how good it felt to have a man pat my back and call me son, especially since the only time a man had ever touched me it was to give me a beating. And no man had ever called me son."
"But what made that trip so special was being able to have fun with another kid. Since he didn't know about my history he judged me solely on my character and for the first time I felt my own self worth simply because someone liked what they saw inside of me."
"On the way home my Mama asked me if I had enjoyed myself. I told her it was the best time I ever had and that I would never forget it. I never have forgotten either, except for that kid's name. I guess it wasn't all that important to me at the time and now it escapes me." Many parts of Heath's tale were familiar to Kate. She had first learned of them sixteen years ago while reading a letter written by another grandson. The gentle, soothing feel of her hand touching his cheek and hair lulled Heath to sleep while she relished a very special memory shared by an even more special grandchild.
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Heath awoke shortly before they arrived in Stockton. Kate noticed how tense he became and decided to explore a topic she had set aside over a week ago.
"Heath, our first day on the stage you started to say you were headed home. I would like to know why you cut yourself off before completing the word home."
"Hard to explain. I really want it to be my home. Jarrod and Audra are great. Nick, however, hates me. I'm always on edge, waiting for him to strike. And Mrs. Barkley...well, she seems nice enough and acts like she wants to welcome me into the family but I suspect it's all for show. After all, how can any woman learn to accept her husband's bastard son? No one is that good, kind or gracious. Even if she is sincere, how can I betray my Mama like that?"
"Oh, Heath, you are so wrong about Victoria. She is unbelievably forthright with her thoughts and emotions. I promise you that her offer is not only sincere but also heartfelt. As for my dear Nicholas, he has always been hot headed and stubborn as a mule but he always eventually comes around. You just leave him to me and I will straighten him out. As for betraying your Mother you will have to listen to your heart for that answer." As they pulled into Stockton and stepped off the stage Heath was unsure what to make of her last statement and doubted anyone could make Nick change his mind about how he felt toward his new brother. He figured her efforts would at least keep his brother preoccupied, sparing him some of Nick's wrath. That alone made it worthwhile to him.
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CLICK LINK BELOW FOR PART TWO
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