A Heart Filled With Joy

 

By:  Kenda

 

    *An Alternate Universe story regarding how Heath came to live on the Barkley Ranch.    

 

********

    

     Victoria Barkley strolled through the parlor with Audra on her hip.  The nine-month old baby caught sight of her father in the foyer.  She smiled a toothless grin and cooed; reaching for the man who was reading the mail the ranch foreman had brought back from town.

 

     The golden haired girl shrieked when her father didn't take his eyes off the letter he was reading for the third time.  She kicked her legs, arching and bucking from her mother's side.

 

     "Tom," Victoria scolded in a light tone, "your baby girl wants your attention."

 

     Victoria saw her husband swallow hard.  When he turned to look at her his face was as white as the petticoats underneath their daughter's dress.  But more than his pale features it was his eyes that caught Victoria's attention.  Blue eyes filled with regret, pain, devastation, and fear.  She'd seen him like this only one other time throughout their married life.  That day almost two decades in the past now, when he told her their firstborn child, eight- month old Thomas Alton Barkley Jr., had died from the measles.

 

     Remembering that heart-wrenching day, and associating her husband's current demeanor with that event caused the woman's voice to quiver.

 

     “Tom?  Tom, what is it?  Is Jarrod all right?  Is that letter from him?"

     Jarrod had been born ten months after Tommy's death.  He was eighteen now and had started college in San Francisco two months earlier. 

 

     "Tom?"

     "No."  The man's voice was so soft Victoria had to strain to hear him.  "No, it's not from Jarrod.  It has nothing to do with Jarrod.  Please...I...Victoria, I have to talk to you.  Please put Audra down for her nap and meet me in the study.  Tell Silas...tell him we're not to be disturbed no matter the reason."

 

     "But, Tom, what is it?  What's--"

     There was an odd note of defeat to the man's voice.

 

     "Just do as I ask, Victoria.  Please.  I'll explain...I’ll explain when we're alone."

 

     Was it Victoria's imagination, or did her husband's shoulders slump just a little as he turned and walked to his study, the letter hanging limply in his hand?

 

     Audra gave a grunt of indignation over being ignored by her father.   Victoria kissed her pale head. 

 

"There, there, baby girl.  Don't you fret.  Papa will be his old self again by the time you wake up."

 

     Thirty minutes later Victoria made her way to the study.  She'd changed Audra's diaper, nursed her, rocked her to sleep, then laid her in the crib.   Like Tom had requested, Victoria found Silas and told him she and Mr. Barkley weren't to be disturbed.  She asked the black man to keep an ear out for the baby, though Victoria was certain the discussion Tom wanted to have with her would draw to a close long before Audra woke up.

    

Victoria entered the massive room Tom used as his office.  The man was sitting at his desk staring out the big windows that faced the front of the ranch.  The whiskey decanter sat in front of him half empty.  He poured another shot down his throat. 

 

     "Shut the door, please."

 

     Victoria did as her husband requested.  He stood and led her to one of two overstuffed chairs angled in front of the fireplace.  A silence filled the room that was so long and so uncomfortable it reminded Victoria of their first date back when she was sixteen and he was a shy young man of twenty.  The bold teenage girl had given way to a bold thirty-nine year old woman.  In some homes a woman would be chastised by her husband for speaking before being spoken to.  But those rules didn't apply to Victoria Barkley’s household.

 

     "Tom?  What's going on?  What's got you so upset?"

 

     The man leaned forward in his chair.  He cast his gaze upon the oak floorboards.  He kneaded his forehead, then ran his hand through his dark short beard and across his mustache. 

 

     "I...Victoria, you have to believe me when I tell you I love you with all my heart and soul.  I fell head over heels for you on our first date."  Tom lifted his head, his blue eyes boring into his wife's.  "You know that don't you?  You know I love you more than life itself."

 

     "Yes, Tom.  I know that.  I've never doubted it for a moment.  Haven't doubted it through twenty-one years of marriage."

 

     Tom reached over and took his wife's hand.  Tears swam in his eyes when he squeezed it.  "You are still my beautiful Victoria.  You always will be." 

 

     "Tom...please.  You're scaring me.  Tell me what's wrong, sweetheart."

     The man released his wife's hand and stood.  He walked over to the windows. 

 

     "Nine years ago I spent a few months in Strawberry setting up our mining interests there.  Do you remember that?"

     "Certainly.  It was the one and only time you were away on business for more than two weeks.  Jarrod was nine, Nick just a little guy of five.  They both missed you terribly.  As did I."

 

     The man smiled a moment thinking of his handsome sons.  Jarrod was a grown man now and studying law.  The spitting image of Tom Barkley minus the beard, many were fond of saying.  A son any father would be proud of.  Intelligent. Thoughtful. A skilled debater; and rabid in his interest for politics.  Jarrod was going far in this life.  Tom Barkley had no doubt his oldest son would someday be a well-known, well-respected man.

 

     Then there was fourteen-year-old Nick.  Dark and brooding, hot tempered, impetuous and playful.  He looked like Victoria's father yet had his Grandpa Barkley's personality.   Already he was a crackerjack shot with a rifle and had an eye for horses that made him the envy of men three times his age.  Like his older brother, Nick was a smart young man, but didn't care too much for applying that intelligence to his schoolwork.  Instead he wanted to run the Barkley ranch along side the father he worshipped.  The only way Tom was able to keep his teenage son in Stockton's schoolhouse was by telling Nick he couldn't be a full partner in the ranch operations until he earned his graduation certificate.   

 

     "I love our boys so much, Victoria.  They’re the light of my life.  And little Audra.  The baby girl we hadn't expected.  She's my joy.  You know that, don't you?"

     "Yes, Tom, I know that.  But you were talking about your trip to Strawberry.  Does the letter you received today have something to do with our mines there?  Is there a financial problem of some sort we need to discuss?"

 

     "There's a problem, yes.  But it's not financial in nature."  The man heaved a sigh and continued to stare out the window with his back to his wife.  "When I came home from Strawberry all those years ago my right arm was in  a sling.  I'd been shot."

 

     Victoria wasn't sure what her husband wanted her to say.  Yes, he'd been shot by a vengeful man who wanted to own the mines Tom purchased.  Not only had Tom taken a bullet in his right shoulder, but he'd also been shot in his right side just below his ribcage.  That was part of the reason he'd been gone so long; and part of the reason why Victoria had paced the floor at night when three weeks went by without any word from him.

 

     "I told you then that a friend offered me shelter, tended to my wounds, and helped me get back on my feet."

 

     "Yes, you did."

 

     "You never asked me who that friend was."

 

     "Well...no.  I guess I didn't.  I was so relieved when you rode in that day, and the boys were elated and climbing all over you, and then when I saw the sling and saw how pale and thin you were...well with all the other questions that came to mind it just never occurred to me to make any inquiries about your friend.  I assumed he was a man you did mining business with."

 

     “My friend...” Tom turned to face his wife.  "My friend, Victoria, my friend wasn't a man.  My friend was a woman.  A woman name Leah Thomson."

 

     Before she even asked the question Victoria had suspicion she knew the answer.  Her heart thumped in her chest, her throat suddenly as dry as an Alabama cotton field.

 

     "What are you saying?"

 

     "I...I don't know what made me do it.  She saved my life.  She came upon me in that alley and somehow managed to get me to my feet.  We stumbled along, me more unconscious than not, until we arrived to her home.  I would have bled to death had she not found me.  Strawberry had no doctor back then.  She took care of me.  Tended to me until I was well enough to travel."

 

     "And you had to find some way to repay her for her kindness.  Is that what you're telling me, Tom Barkley?"

     "It wasn't like that.  Honestly it wasn't.  I don't...I was out of it for over a week.  Loopy from the pain.  My mind wasn't clear.  I know that's not an excuse.  And I'm not asking you to excuse what I did."

 

     "Did she know you were married?"

     “No.”  Tom shook his head.  "No.  I never told her.  At least not then."

     "Not then?  What do you mean?  Have you seen this woman again?"

     "No.  Never.  Not since the day I rode out of there.  But after I returned home and was healed I...I wrote her a letter."

 

     Victoria stood.  She paced in front of the fireplace. 

 

     "So you wrote her a letter and what?  Professed your love, but told her it would create too much of a scandal if you left your wife and sons?"

     Tom crossed the floor in three strides.  He grabbed Victoria by the shoulders, his eyes pleading with her.

 

     "Victoria, no.  No, it wasn't like that."

 

     "Then maybe you'd better tell me what it was like."

 

     "I told her it was mistake on my part.  That I was married to a woman I loved very, very much.  That I was the father of two young sons I adored.  I told her I was sorry.  So very sorry for leading her to believe anything but that.  I told her our...our time together wasn't her fault, but rather mine.  I thanked her for being so kind hearted and for helping me, a complete stranger.  I told her I wanted her to forget me and go forward with her life.  To find a good man who would love her as much as I love you."

 

     Tom dropped his hands and walked over to his desk. 

 

"Here.  Here's the letter I wrote her.  It's part of what came in the mail.  Read it for yourself."

    

Victoria took the letter her husband handed her.  It was dog-eared, the writing faded and smudged, as though it had been read, and cried over, many times since the day it arrived. 

 

     The words on the paper were almost identical to the ones Tom had just spoken.  When Victoria had read it through to the end she handed it back to him.   

 

     "You said this is part of what came in the mail.  What else came?"

 

     "This was folded inside another letter addressed to me.  It was written by a close friend of Leah's.  A woman by the name of Rachel Caufield.  I met her when I was staying with...staying in Strawberry.  She was quite a bit older than Leah, and was as much of a mother to her as she was a friend. 

 

     "I see.  And why did Rachel feel the need to write you?"

 

     Tom tried to put his arm around Victoria only to have her shrug his hand off her shoulder.

 

     "Victoria, please.  Let's sit back down here together."

 

     The woman would not allow her husband to lead her to the chairs.  She made him sit alone and in silence for several minutes before finally joining him.  She perched stiffly on the edge of her seat, when Tom tried to take her hand she yanked it away.

 

     "Don't!"

 

     "Victoria--"

     "Tell me why this Rachel felt the need to write you and enclose that letter."

     "She enclosed the letter as proof, I suppose, of her newfound knowledge of my relationship with Leah."

 

     "Newfound?"

     "Yes.  She mentions in her letter that she suspected we had an..."

 

     "Go ahead, Tom, say it.  An affair.  You had an affair."

 

     "It wasn't like that."

 

     "Oh it wasn't, was it?  Well, I don't know what else you'd call it.  You can sugar coat it any way you please, but as Mr. Shakespeare was fond of saying, a rose by any other name is still a rose."

 

     "Okay then, an affair.  Rachel suspected Leah and I had engaged in an affair.  Nonetheless, that wasn't confirmed until the day Leah...the day Leah passed away."

 

     "Passed away?"

     "Yes.  Rachel said she got sick last winter.  From what she says in her letter I would guess Leah had some sort of cancer in her internal organs."

 

     "If you haven't seen or had contact with this...with Leah, since you left Strawberry nine years ago, what would make Rachel write you about her death?"

     Tom reached for his wife's hand again.  This time she let him take it. The man had to clear his throat before he could speak.  And even then it was hard for him to get the words out.

 

     "It seems as though there's a child.  A boy eight years old.  Rachel says...she said Leah told her on her death bed that the boy is mine."

     A horse whinnied and the sound of a man’s shout drifted in through the open window before Victoria spoke again. 

 

     "A child,” she repeated, her voice devoid of emotion as though she was in shock.  “An eight year old child.”

 

     "Would you like to read the letter?  It's on my desk.   Maybe...maybe it will help to--"

 

     Victoria jumped to her feet as tears streamed down her face.

 

     "No, Tom, it won't help!  Nothing will help me right now."

 

     "Victoria, please.  Please listen to--"

 

     The woman eluded her husband's grasp.  She threw the study door open and fled the room, Tom at her heels.

 

     "Victoria!  Victoria, wait!  Please, sweetheart, we have to talk!"

 

     The sobbing woman charged up the stairs, flying by Nick who had just come from putting his schoolbooks in his room.

 

     "Mother?  Mother, what's--"

     Before Nick could finish his question he heard the door to his parents' room slam shut.  Audra gave a startled cry from the nursery.

 

     Nick looked at Tom.  In all his fourteen years he'd never seen his father so upset.  So flustered.  Nor had he ever seen his mother cry before.

 

     "Silas!"  Tom yelled.  "Silas!"

 

     The black man trotted in from the kitchen.

 

     "Please see to Audra.   Mrs. Barkley...Mrs. Barkley isn't feeling well.   See if Phillip's wife will watch the baby for a few hours for me."

 

     Phillip was the Barkleys’ ranch foreman.  He and his wife lived in a two story frame farmhouse by the barn. 

 

     "Yes, Mr. Barkley.  I'll do that."

 

     Nick watched as Silas disappeared into the nursery.  He turned back to his father.

 

     "Father, what's wrong?  Why was Mother crying?  Is she sick?  Has something bad happened?"

 

     Tom hesitated before answering his son.  Would he be making a mistake to tell Nick what had occurred all those years ago in Strawberry?  Yet hiding it from him would be unfair.  Hard work on the Barkley ranch had caused Nick to grow up fast.  He was mature for his age.  Intelligent and fair minded.  Hiding the truth from him would be a disservice to the boy.  Eventually Nick would find out.  The last thing Tom wanted was this type of news to come to his sons by way of anyone but him.

 

     "Father?"

     "No, Nick, your mother isn't sick."

     "But you just told Silas--"

 

     "Never mind what I told Silas.  This is private.  Private family business.  Come into the study with me, please.  I need to talk to you."

     Twenty minutes later another bedroom door slammed in

the Barkley house. 

 

     So much for Nick and his fair mindedness.

 

     That night Tom Barkley ate supper alone.  He couldn't get Nick to come out of his room, and as far as Victoria went he didn't even try. 

 

     Tom was finally forced to face his wife at nine o'clock that evening when the hungry Audra was fussing to be nursed.  Victoria wouldn't speak to him as she went about seeing to the baby's needs.  She was gone a long time when she left to put Audra in her crib.  Tom began to wonder if she was coming back, or if she'd chosen to sleep in one of the other bedrooms.

 

     The rancher was sitting in the rocking chair in the corner of the master bedroom when his wife finally returned.  He watched as she sat at her dressing table and brushed her dark hair out in front of the mirror. 

 

     "I wish I knew how to make this right with you," he said quietly.

 

     "I wish you did, too."  Victoria gave her hair three more strokes then set the brush aside.  She turned to face her husband.  "You talked to Nick?"

     "Yes."

 

     "What did you tell him?"

     "The same thing I told you.  The truth."

 

     "Has he been out of his room at all this evening?"

     "No.  He wouldn't come down for dinner, and he refused the tray I had Silas bring up to him."

 

     "I'll talk to him in the morning."

     "What are you going to tell him?"

     "I don't know, Tom.  I just...I don't know."

 

     "Are you going to leave me?"

     "You'd deserve it if I did.  You'd deserve it if I walked out of here tomorrow with Nick and Audra.  You know that, don't you?"

     "Yes.  I know that.  I shattered your trust in me.  I...that's why I never told you about Leah.  I wanted to.  So many times I wanted to come clean and tell you the truth.  But I knew how angry you'd be.  More importantly I knew how hurt you'd be.  It was a mistake on my part.  A horrible mistake.  A terrible lapse in judgment.  I just...I just thought if we could get through the rest of our lives without you ever having to know then you wouldn't be hurt by my foolishness."

 

     "But we can't run from our mistakes, Tom.  Or lie to hide them.  Isn't that what you always tell your sons?"

     "It is."

     Victoria looked into her husband's eyes.  "Have there been others?"

     "Other women you mean?"

     "Yes."

 

     The man shot out of the chair and dropped to his knees in front of his wife.  He grasped her hands in his.  She could feel the calluses from the hours and hours of hard work it took to build this ranch into what it was today.

 

     "No, Victoria.  No.  Never.  And there never will be.  You're my one true love.  You have to believe me."

 

     Victoria hadn't seen tears run down Tom Barkley's face since the day they buried baby Tommy nearly twenty years ago.

 

     "I'm so afraid you'll leave me.  I can't live without you.  I love you so much.  And my...my stupidity has hurt you so.  Has shattered all that we had."

 

     Victoria brought a trembling hand up and ran it through her husband's hair.

 

     "It hasn't shattered all that we had, Tom.  But it's shattered an important part of it."

 

     The couple clung to each other then and cried together.  Long after their tears dried they remained locked in a firm embrace.  Tom didn't make any move toward the bed until his wife took him by the hand and led him there.  He blew out the lamp, then climbed in beside her fully clothed.  He put an arm around her waist and pulled her close.  Victoria felt Tom’s tears trickle down her neck as he cried silently into her hair.

 

     Victoria lay awake that night long after her husband fell into a fitful sleep.  It was after midnight when she reached for her robe at the end of the bed.  She put her feet in her slippers and silently exited the room.  She picked an oil lamp up off a hall table and lit it before entering the nursery.

 

     The woman stood over her baby daughter.  The child was asleep on her stomach; her thumb firmly encased in her little mouth.  Pale yellow curls ringed her round head like a custom-made cap.  Victoria envied Audra her innocence.  The little girl would never have to be aware of her father's indiscretions if they chose not to tell her.

 

     Victoria ran the back of her hand over a chubby cheek. 

 

"Oh my sweet baby daughter, how would I ever get through this pain without you?  The Lord must have known what he was doing when he surprised me with your presence in my womb."

    

Victoria stopped in Nick's room next.  He was asleep, too, but his mother saw the dried tears on his face. 

 

     "My Nick," she whispered.  "Already so strong and brave at fourteen.  Already so quick to hide your pain from those around you.  Already so quick to be a man.  But you learned today that being a man means you pay a price for your wisdom.  Oh, Nicky, how I wish I could have protected you from the knowledge you now have.  How I wish your father could have stayed on the pedestal where you have always placed him at the end of each day.  How I wish you hadn't been forced to see your hero tumble from his perch."

 

     Victoria bent and placed a light kiss on Nick's temple.  She left the room as quietly as she'd entered.  She made her way down the stairs to Tom's study.  His desktop had been cleared, but she knew where he would have put those letters.  She set her lamp down, opened his middle drawer and pulled the letters out.  She reread the first one he'd written to Leah Thomson nine years earlier.  Once again Victoria needed to see for herself that he really had spoken of his enormous love for her, and that he voiced his regret and pain to Leah at initiating the affair.

 

     The next letter was harder to read.  It took her a long time to have the courage to unfold it.  She pulled her lamp closer to the paper.

    

     Dear Mr. Barkley,

 

           I don't know if you'll remember me or not, but my name is Rachel Caufield.  I was a good friend of Leah Thomson.

 

           Leah passed away on August 20th.  She became ill last winter and only got worse as the months progressed.  She grew so thin there was nothing to her but skin and bones by the time the good Lord took her. She had so much pain in her stomach that she couldn't eat. 

 

          I am writing to tell you I found a letter from you amongst Leah's personal papers.  I have enclosed it.  I am also writing to tell you Leah left behind an eight-year old son.  Leah never told me who the boy's father was until her last day on this earth.  Shortly before she died she said you are his father, Mr. Barkley, though to tell you the truth I had suspected that from the moment nine years ago when she told me she was pregnant.  As you will recall, Leah was every bit a lady.  She had never been with a man before you, sir, nor was she ever with one in all the days since you left.

 

           Heath Morgan Thomson, as the child is known, is as sweet as any eight-year old boy can be.  He was his mother's joy and she loved him with all her heart, as he loved her.  Leah entrusted Heath's care to me and our friend Hannah.  I love Heath as if he were my own child. Hannah feels the same way.  But neither of us are young women and I have always believed that a boy needs the influence of a father in his life if he's going to grow up to be a decent man.

 

           Leah has no other living relatives but her brother Matt.  He and his wife live here in Strawberry and have been after me to let them raise Heath.  Leah would not have wanted that, Mr. Barkley.  Matthew Thomson is a nasty, dishonest man.  Heath will have a hard life if he's ever forced to live with his Uncle Matt.  Forgive me for speaking ill of the man, but I know what he wants.  He has always been lazy and shiftless.  He will no doubt put Heath to work in the mines before the boy reaches his twelfth birthday, and then demand the boy's salary from him.  Mark my words, the only reason Matt wants that child is so he can live off him.

 

           If I do not hear from you I will not bother you again, nor make trouble for you.  Leah wouldn't have wanted it that way.  I will do my best to raise Heath and keep him out of Matt Thomson's home.  I know you have a wife and at least two sons.  Maybe by now you have more children so Heath would not be so important to you.  However, I cannot end this letter without telling you what a loving, intelligent child he is and how any father would be proud to call him son, just as his mother was proud to call him son.  His little heart has been broken since Leah's death.  I think he feels very alone.

 

Sincerely,

Rachel Caufield

 

 

     Victoria paid no attention when the Grandfather clock in the foyer struck one a.m.  At one-fifteen her husband stuck his head in the study.

 

     "Victoria?"

     She looked up when he entered the room.  His blood shot eyes and rumpled clothes reflected the troubles on his mind.

 

     "Sweetheart, what are you doing down here by yourself at this time of the morning?"

     "I had to read Rachel's letter."

 

     "I see."

 

     "What are you going to do about the child, Tom?"

     "I was planning on discussing that with you in a few days.  It's not a matter of what I'm going to do with him, it's a matter of what we decide to do together."

 

     "There's no matter of deciding.  You must go to Strawberry and get him.  He'll live here with us."

 

     Tom walked over and perched a hip on the corner of his desk.

 

     "I wasn't going to ask you to do that, Victoria.  I can make regular visits to Strawberry to see him.  I can give Rachel money to provide for him.  All the money she needs and then some.  Later, when he's older, I'll send him to the college of his choice.  Perhaps then he can visit us here and get to know his brothers and sister."

 

     "But that's not what you really want to do, is it."

 

     "It's not a matter of what I want to do.  It's a matter of what's easiest on you and the children."

     "Tom, life is never easy.  There are always bumps in the road.  If Heath comes here to live with us now Audra will never know the difference.  And as far as Jarrod and Nick go...well, like I said life is never easy.  Never without its disappointments and heartaches.  Perhaps it's time they learn that."

     "I think Nick learned it today."

 

     "I think he did, too." 

 

     Victoria folded the letters and returned them to Tom's desk drawer.  She stood and crossed to the windows where she stared out at the full moon.  She felt her husband walk up behind her.

 

     "I know what kind of a town Strawberry is because I've been in mining towns with you before," Victoria said.  "For the most part they're filled with rough men who put little value on education.  Men like this Matt Thomson Rachel speaks of in her letter. We have so much to offer that little boy.  It would be a shame if any opportunities bypassed him simply because we didn't have the courage to stand up and do what's right.  Simply because we tried to save face by hiding him fifty miles away."

 

     The woman turned and looked into her husband's eyes. 

 

"It's not his fault, Tom.  It's not that little boy's fault that he was born."

 

     "I know.  And not for one moment have I thought it is.  Believe me, I know whose fault it is."

    

"He has no one now except two old ladies who were his mother's friends, and one uncle that doesn't sound like he's fit to own a dog let alone raise a child.  You have to bring Heath here.  He deserves to be a part of this family.  He deserves to know his father, his brothers, and his baby sister."

    

"Yes, he does.  But what about you?  One way or the other you'll be forced to become mother to a child who isn't yours.  To a child who...a child who might break your heart every time you look at him."

Victoria gave her husband a soft smile.  "No child of yours could ever break my heart."  She laid a hand on Tom's chest.  "He's just a little boy of eight years old.  A little boy whose mother has died.  He must be so scared, Tom.  So afraid of what the future holds for him."

"I've thought of that, too."
    

"What else have you thought of?"
    

"Pardon me?"
    

"I've told you what I think we must do for Heath.  What do you think?"
    

"The exact same things.  If you ask me not to bring him here I won't.  I've already told you the other options I've considered in terms of providing for him and getting to know him.  But I'll admit that's not what I want to do.  My heart has been breaking for that child ever since the letter arrived.  I feel so guilty.  Guilty for his sake.  Guilty for yours.  I just...I wish Leah would have told me long ago.  I don't know what I would have done had I known any sooner, but maybe it would have been easier on all of us if this had come up when Jarrod and Nick were too young to understand the whys and wherefores."

 

     "Possibly.  But there's no use in wondering what might have been."  Victoria paused.  "Tom, I have one question I need to ask you before you make arrangements for Heath to come here."

 

     "Yes?"

 

     "Are you sure...absolutely sure this child is yours?"

     Tom thought back to the first night he'd made love to Leah Thomson.  He wasn't going to tell his wife in so many words that the woman had been a virgin, but when he nodded his head she understood what he meant.  He couldn't explain further as to how he was so certain that Rachel was telling the truth when she said Leah hadn't been with another man after Tom left Strawberry, he just instinctively knew it was fact.  Granted, the love affair had been a short one, but there was a goodness about Leah, a pureness that was hard to define with the spoken word.

 

     "All right then," Victoria stated.  "Heath must be brought here as soon as possible.  There's simply no choice in the matter."

 

     "I want to go see Jarrod first.  I need to talk to him.  I want him to read the letters just as you have.  I'll go to town tomorrow, buy a ticket for Friday evening's train, and wire Jarrod to let him know I'll be arriving in San Francisco on Saturday morning."

 

     "Did you offer to let Nick read the letters?"

 

     "No.  I pondered it, but he's only fourteen.  I wasn't certain if they’re something he should be privy to."

 

     "He needs to read them, Tom.  They might help him understand."

 

     "I don't think anything's going to help Nick understand right at the moment.  He's not speaking to me."

     "It will take him time to mend.  He's suffered a big blow.  After all, you’re his idol."

     "I was his idol, you mean."

      "No, that's not what I mean.  You'll always be Nick's idol.  But he's learned one of his first lessons on the road to adulthood."

     "And what lesson is that?"

     "Even idols are human.  They make mistakes.  They disappoint us.  They don't always live up to our expectations and it's not fair of us to ask them to."

     Tears filled Tom's eyes.  "I never wanted to disappoint my son.  To fall short of his expectations."

 

     "I know you didn't, but you're not perfect, Tom.  No man is.  Maybe it's time Nick learned that."

 

     "I wish he didn't have to.  At least not yet."

 

     "I wish he didn't have to, either.  But such is the way of the world.  I don't believe God thrusts things like this upon us for no reason."