A Place To Call Home

                                                                            

By:  Kenda

 

*This story is set several months prior to the aired episode:  Boots With My Father’s Name.  It also disregards the events depicted in the aired episode 40 Rifles.  However, I am using the character of Barrett from that episode - the hired hand that was so intent on giving Heath a hard time.  As well, in Palms Of Glory the show is set in 1876 with Tom Barkley having died in 1870.  When Heath arrives on the ranch in ‘Palms’ he says his mother has been dead a few months.  However, in the episode The Lost Treasure, Leah Thomson’s gravestone indicates she died in 1872.  There have been many discussions on various Big Valley websites regarding the errors the Big Valley writers made in regards to dates throughout the show’s four-year run.  Therefore I have taken the liberty in this story to fictionalize that Leah died in October of 1875, and that Heath arrived on the Barkley ranch in late January of 1876.

            

 

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     Heath opened his bedroom door and stepped into the wide hallway.  He crossed to the banister, silently observing the bustling activity below.  Silas scurried between the kitchen, dining room, parlor, and foyer.  The black man’s voice never raised above its normal, soft pitch as he gave directions to the four young women who had been hired from Stockton to help with the party.  Regardless, Heath could sense nervousness about Silas. He attributed the house servant’s uneasiness to the fact Silas felt it was his responsibility to see the night went off without a hitch. 

 

     Or maybe it wasn’t even that complicated.  Maybe it was that Silas, as one of the few black men within one hundred miles, still felt just as out of place in this home as Heath often did.  Maybe, even after the twenty-three years Silas had been employed by the Barkleys, he still felt the need to strive for perfection.  To prove he was worthy of the shelter Tom Barkley provided him when he’d arrived here as a runaway slave over two decades ago.

 

     Heath had been living with his father’s family for just three months now.  He couldn’t imagine twenty-three years into the future.  He was still pretty much taking things as they came, day by day.  He had a strong feeling that’s the way his brothers, sister, and Victoria were taking things, too.  It was funny.   Sometimes he felt like he’d lived on this ranch all his life, and sometimes he felt as out of place as a country bumpkin at a high society wedding. No doubt about it, the luxury the Barkleys lived in was far from anything he’d experienced in his twenty-four years on this earth.  The home Heath had grown up in could fit in Victoria Barkley’s foyer.  It had contained just one main room that served as both kitchen and living room, plus a tiny bedroom that Leah Thomson insisted Heath have despite the fact that as he grew older he tried to convince her it should be him sleeping on the cot beside the cook stove, not her. 

 

     Heath’s beginnings might have been humble, but he never thought of his mother and that little home without warmth kissing his heart first, and then deep, deep sorrow burrowing itself into his soul.  Their position in the world was hardly anything to brag about; nonetheless Leah kept her home and son spotlessly clean.  Or at least Heath was as spotlessly clean as any boy could be until he got out of his mother’s sight.  He rarely failed to come home dirty from a hard day at play, or scuffed up from a fight he’d gotten into because someone had referred to his mother as a whore or called him a bastard.  At those times Leah would shake her head and give her boy a stern lecture while gently dabbing the blood from his face.

 

     “Heath, you have to learn to turn away from the ignorant words of others and not let your temper get the best of you.  There will come a day when I won’t be here to patch you up.”

 

     Of course as a child, Heath could never imagine his mother not being there to patch him up.  Or to offer him comfort and guidance.  She had been his whole world, just like he had been hers.  Despite the hard life that rough mining town had brought Leah Thomson, Heath never fathomed her death would come just six months earlier at the young age of forty-five.  He had a lot of regrets about her passing.  So many that he didn’t allow himself to dwell on her final days, or how he had failed her.   If he could only have the last year of her life back.  If he’d only had then what he had now he could have provided for her in a way that far exceeded the few dollars he’d mailed to Strawberry each week since he’d left home at sixteen.  If he could have made his mother’s life easier possibly she would have had years and years left her. As Victoria Barkley came into view from below, Heath thought of what might have been and had to turn away. 

 

     Before the young man could escape unnoticed down the back stairs Audra swished through the hall in a sea of emerald taffeta. 

 

     “Oh, Heath, your tie,” she moaned with mock long-suffering.  “Here, let me fix it.”

 

     Heath stood still, lifting his chin and allowing his sister to undo the black string tie at his neck.  Her nimble fingers retied it into a neat, straight bow in a matter of seconds.

 

     “Really, I don’t know what you and Nick would do without me.  I just redid his tie not five minutes ago.  You’d think a couple of grown men who can lasso a wild stallion would be able to tie a respectable knot.”

 

     Audra fussed over Heath a few more seconds.  She straightened the lapels on the royal blue suit coat she’d helped him pick out at a men’s clothing store in Stockton, and brushed imaginary lint from his shoulders.  After all these years of being his own man Heath would have thought he’d be annoyed at his sister’s ministrations, but he’d found just the opposite was true.  Audra never failed to make him feel like an important member of this family.  Never failed to make him feel as though his place as her big brother was just as solid and long-standing as Jarrod’s and Nick’s places were.  And though he would never admit it to the nineteen year old, Heath enjoyed being taken care of by her. Had they grown up together he could easily imagine what great playmates they might have been. 

 

     Audra always seemed to sense what Heath was feeling, and tonight was no different.   It was as if she could read his mind and knew the prospect of this fancy party had him unnerved.  She took a step back and flashed him a confident smile while the musicians warmed up in a corner of the parlor.

 

     “There.”  She gave one final tug on the hem of his coat.  “Now I’ll be telling the truth when I say you’re the handsomest brother I’ve got.”

 

     The young woman crooked her arm, holding her elbow out to Heath.

 

     “You’d better not let Nick hear you say that,” Heath replied.

 

     Another voice joined the pair from behind.

 

     “And you’d better not let Jarrod hear you say it either, little lady.”

 

     There was laughter in Jarrod’s eyes as he joined his two blond siblings. But then it was rare for Heath not to see laughter in Jarrod’s eyes.  If Audra was the baby sister he’d dreamed of having as a little boy, then Jarrod was the big brother his imagination had formed.  Smart, worldly, kind, charming, and always ready with sound advice free for the taking.  Advice that was dispensed gently and tactfully, in that rich speaking voice that had swayed the opinion of many a jury.

 

     Audra held her other arm out for Jarrod. 

 

     “What I meant to say is, Heath’s the handsomest blond brother I have.  While you, Jarrod, are the handsomest brunette brother I possess.”

 

     Jarrod laughed.  “Then I must echo Heath’s words.  You’d better not let Nick hear you say that.”

 

     “Better not let Nick hear who say what?” Boomed from below.

 

     Arms linked, the trio descended to the foyer. 

 

     “Audra was just taking stock of her handsome brothers,”  Jarrod said.  “And your name, Nicholas, appears to be missing from her list.”

 

     Nick crossed his arms over his wide chest.  “Oh it does, does it?”

 

     “But then Audra didn’t mention Eugene either, so perhaps she wasn’t done announcing the many virtues of her siblings.”

 

     Audra rolled her eyes at Jarrod and Nick.  Heath knew this type of teasing went on between the three of them almost constantly.  Though he would have been able to keep up with their good natured banter had he chosen to, he generally remained quiet.  Heath wasn’t certain if his comments would be welcome in this playful routine that dated back to childhood.

 

     The blond man felt a tiny hand come to rest between his shoulder blades.  He turned to see Victoria join the group.

 

     “Perhaps if Audra was allowed to finish her thoughts they would go something like this.  Nick is the handsomest brother she has with hazel eyes--”

 

     “Well that’s not hard to come up with,” Nick snorted, “considering I’m the only brother she has with hazel eyes.”

 

     Victoria went on speaking as though she hadn’t been interrupted. 

 

     “And Eugene is the handsomest younger brother she has.”

 

     “Again, not a huge strain to the brain there.  She doesn’t have any younger brothers besides Gene.”

 

     “Did someone call me?”  Eugene asked as he entered from the dining room.

 

     “No,” Nick said.

 

     The young man, who was home from college for the party, looked from one sibling to the next. 

 

     “You know, ever since I was a little kid I always missed out on all the fun.  I thought that would change once I reached adulthood.”

 

     Nick snatched the carrot stick Gene was aiming for his mouth. 

 

     “Sorry, bucko, but you thought wrong.  We’re still havin’ fun that you’re missing out on.”

 

     “Hey!  Give that back to me!”  Gene jumped, swiping at the half eaten carrot stick Nick had pilfered.  “Mother, make him give it back to me.”

 

     Audra accosted Nick from behind.  She grabbed his wrists and tried to wrestle the carrot from him so she could toss it to Gene in an impromptu game of keep away.

 

     Victoria shook her head at her children’s nonsense.   She loved it when they were all home at the same time, even if they did feel the need to relive their youth when they were together.   She fought to keep the smile out of her voice as her adult offspring forced her to resurrect her role as mother.

 

     “Nick, give your brother back his carrot stick.  Gene, quit jumping in the house.  You’ll knock something over.  Audra, you stay out of the fray.  You’ll wrinkle your dress.  And, Jarrod, keep an eye on your brothers and sister for me tonight.  They’re bound to get into trouble if someone isn’t watching them.”

 

     Nick was still teasing Gene and Audra with the carrot stick, holding it just out of their reach, when the first guests began to arrive.  The dark headed man popped the vegetable in his mouth and while still chewing, assembled by the door with his family. 

 

     The Barkleys formed a receiving line as music filtered in from the other room.  Without conscious effort they stood in the order of their birth from oldest to youngest.  For the first time since he’d come to live with them Heath pondered the thought of being the middle child.  If he’d grown up in this family how would that experience have altered his personality?  The studious, even-tempered Jarrod was eight years his senior, then came the boisterous, head-strong Nick at four years older. Below Heath was the spunky Audra at five years younger and the cheerful Eugene at almost seven years Heath’s junior.  No doubt Nick would have been more of a playmate to him than Jarrod or Gene; which was amusing considering he and Nick still weren’t sure what to make of each other.  On some days they were one anothers best friend, and on other days they were bitter enemies.  That’s not how Heath wanted it per se, but he was a proud man who was used to doing things his own way.  He didn’t always take too kindly to Nick’s bossiness. He wondered if he would have been more accepting of it if he’d lived with these people since birth.  He’d always heard the middle child was the peacekeeper.  Having spoken up on behalf of all his siblings a time or two since he’d arrived here made Heath realize he had a good portion of that trait within his personality, but having grown up as an only child also meant he was fiercely independent and not accustomed to having a brother tell him what to do.  And telling Heath what to do was something Nick, as the head of the Barkley Ranch operations, seemed to relish at times.

 

     Before Heath could give this further consideration people began flocking in the front door.  He watched Victoria.  She was a smooth and gracious hostess who greeted every person with a warm handshake and equally warm smile.  If anyone in this household yet made him nervous, it was she.  Heath was still as uncertain of her motives as he had been the day she invited him to live in the mansion.  She’d never been anything but kind to him, even when he didn’t deserve that kindness, yet the fact that he was her husband’s bastard son was never going to change.  To put it bluntly, Tom Barkley had slept with Heath’s mother.  Regardless of the whys or wherefores, the man had stepped out on his marriage.  Plenty of people in this valley held Heath at fault for that, but if Victoria harbored such feelings she kept them well-hidden.  But then Heath kept a lot of his feelings hidden, too, so maybe he and Victoria were an even match as far as that went.

 

     Heath swayed from foot to foot, relieved each time a guest passed him without saying more than a, “How do you do?”  While he’d met some of these people during his three months here, there were a lot he didn’t know.  He supposed rumor of his existence had pretty well reached all ears by now, but even so, there were often moments of awkwardness when he was first introduced to people who were old friends of Tom Barkley.

 

     And speaking of old friends, the second the woman walked in the door Heath knew who she was.  Her portly body was stuffed into a maroon gown layered with black netting like a sausage is stuffed into its casing.  Her ample breasts made it look as though two ripe melons had been stashed in the bodice.  He wasn’t surprised to see the gaudy hat on her head.  If his mother were alive to see the woman she’d laugh and tell Heath the hat’s brim was big enough to carry a week’s worth of laundry.  And then there were the feathers.  An entire peacock must have been plucked naked in order to provide the colorful plume that stuck straight up in the air like an Indian’s headdress.

 

     Nick elbowed Heath.  The dark headed man leaned into his sibling and whispered, “Get a load of her.  And this is tame compared to some of the stuff I’ve seen her wear.”

    

Heath wanted to say, “Boy howdy, Nick, the stories I could tell you about some of the stuff I’ve seen her wear would knock your socks off.  And her bloomers are big enough to fit a circus elephant,” but he didn’t say that.  It would prompt too many questions Heath would rather not answer.

 

     Regardless of what Victoria Barkley thought of her guest’s attire she smiled and shook the woman’s hand. 

 

     “Constance.  How very nice to see you.  I’m so glad you could come.”

 

     The woman’s shrill voice drowned out both the music and the chatter of the other guests.

 

     “I must confess, Victoria, your party came close to having to go on without me.  I had one of my spells this afternoon and thought sure the Lord was calling me home just as plain as if I could hear His voice.  Why, I told John Peter he might as well summon the undertaker.  I was that certain of my demise.”

 

     Victoria’s eyes flicked to Jarrod.  She could tell he was biting his lower lip to keep from laughing.

 

     “Well, Constance, I’m happy to see you’ve made a full recovery.”  Victoria looked to her guest’s son.  “And John, I’m glad you found the time to bring your mother tonight.  I know how busy you must be running the ranch.”

 

     “Running the ranch my eye,” Nick whispered to Heath.  “He’s the laziest S.O.B. this side of the Mississippi.  What he knows about ranching you could put on a saddle horn.  His old man was the same way.  The only reason their operation succeeds is because of their money.  They’ve got the most hired hands of anyone in the valley and a helluva foreman who calls the shots.”

 

     Heath watched the lanky, milk-pale John nod in that superior way he’d possessed since he was a child.

 

     “Yes, yes.  Quite busy, Mrs. Barkley.  Quite so.”

 

     Jarrod smiled and kissed the back of the pudgy hand Constance offered him.

 

     “Mrs. Vanguard, you’re as lovely as ever.”

 

     “Oh, Jarrod, go on with you now.  You’ll make an old woman blush like a schoolgirl. You do have your father’s charm, there’s no two ways about it.”

 

     When the woman reached Nick he simply nodded.  The last thing he wanted to do was make any form of physical contact with the old biddy.

 

     “Mrs. Vanguard.  Nice to see you again.”

 

     Constance disliked the loud, ill-tempered Nick as much as he disliked her.

 

     “Nicholas.  Yes.  Good to see you, too.  And please, Nicholas, keep your cattle out of our stream.”

 

     “Out of your stream!  Lady, the only reason our cattle got to your stream in the first place is because you had a fence down that worthless son of yours is too lazy to--”

 

     “Nick.  Nick,” Jarrod soothed, while putting an arm around his brother.   “Come on now.  Calm down.   Tonight’s not the night for business discussions.”  The lawyer cocked an eyebrow at their rotund guest.  “Wouldn’t you agree, Mrs. Vanguard?”

 

     “I suppose not.  No, of course it isn’t, Jarrod.  You’re correct.  But, Nicholas, please. From now on make more of an effort to keep your animals on your own property.”

 

     If Nick had been able to produce steam Heath had no doubt it would be pouring out his ears.  The blond man could feel Audra’s body shaking.  She hid her face in his back as she tried to suppress her laughter.

 

     Jarrod alleviated the situation by ushering the woman forward.

 

     “I don’t think you’ve had the occasion to meet my younger brother Heath.  Heath, this is Mrs. Vanguard.  When her husband was living he and Father shared partnerships in several mines throughout the state.  Mrs. Vanguard, this is Heath.”

 

     Though Victoria was well aware tact was a foreign word to Constance Vanguard, she never imagined the woman could be so senseless.  Or so cruel.  Within seconds of Constance being introduced to Heath the matriarch of the Barkley family was wishing she’d never invited the woman.

 

     Constance looked Heath up and down as though she was expecting to see some outward sign that made him unworthy of living on the Barkley ranch.

 

     “Yes.  Yes, I’ve heard of you.  People like to talk, you know.  ‘Keith’ did you say his name was, Jarrod?”

 

     Heath felt his face begin to burn.  Did the woman think he was some half-retarded misfit who couldn’t even tell her his own

name?

 

     “Heath,” Jarrod repeated.

 

     “Heath.  Mmmm, now that is an unusual name.  Very unusual.  Certainly not a good Christian name like John Peter, or Jarrod, or Nicholas.  Even Eugene has Christian roots you know.   Why, I do believe I’ve only heard the name Heath one other time in my whole life.”  The woman looked at her son.  “John Peter, wasn’t Heath the name of that little bastard boy of our washerwoman’s when we lived in Strawberry?  Oh, you remember him, don’t you?  Why I used to sell the clothes you’d outgrown to her for the boy, and how did that little urchin repay us?  By beating you up.”

 

     “He didn’t beat me up, Mother.”

 

     “He most certainly did.  I recall you coming home all battered and crying your eyes out more than once.  Oh, but was your father angry with you.  He took his belt to your hide for being such a sissy each and every time it happened.  Don’t you remember that?  Father was furious that such ‘scrawny little white trash,’ as he phrased it, five years younger than you had whipped you.” 

 

     Jarrod did his best to move the woman along.  It seemed to Heath that everyone in the entire house was listening to her while staring at him.

 

     “Come with me, Mrs. Vanguard.  I’ll introduce you to some of the guests you haven’t met.”

 

     The woman wiggled her body out of Jarrod’s arms.  Her grey eyes remained fastened on Heath.

 

     “You’ve grown up to be quite a handsome man.  Who would have thought it?  Every time I saw you your feet were bare and your bangs were hanging in your eyes.  But then I don’t suppose your mother could afford to send you to the barber, or buy you shoes for that matter.  And speaking of your mother...what was her name again?  LeeAnn.  Yes, that was it.   LeeAnn.  My, but LeeAnn certainly could get the toughest stains out of clothes.  I don’t know how she did it, but I surely marveled at her ability.”

 

     Heath never thought about where he was, or that holding his tongue might be what a polite gentleman does when insulted while attending a lavish shindig. He wouldn’t stand by and let this woman defile his mother’s memory even if he was attending a party at the White House.  Heath’s jaw was so firmly set he’d later wonder how any words managed to come forth.

 

     “She got the stains out of your clothes by standing over a washboard until her back ached and her fingers bled.  She did it because she was never too proud to labor at an honest day’s work in order to feed her child.  She came to your house every day for six years and not once did you do anything but lecture her like some high and mighty priestess because of her ‘bastard,’ as you used to refer to me.”

 

     “Why I never--”

 

     “You did, too!”  Heath shouted.  “I wasn’t deaf and I wasn’t invisible!  You may have thought of me as ‘white trash’, but I was there with her.  I heard you.  And at night, long after she thought I was asleep, I’d hear her cry because of how hurt she was by the things you said.”

 

     Nick put a hand on his brother’s elbow.  “Heath, come on.  Let’s go outside for a few minutes.”

 

     The blond man shook himself free.  He gave Mrs. Vanguard a final glare.  “And her name wasn’t LeeAnn.  It was Leah.”

 

     Heath turned on one boot heel and stomped through the dining room.  Audra gathered up her gown, scampering after him.

 

     “Heath!  Heath, wait!”

 

     The Barkleys’ guests stood in uncomfortable silence. Even the musicians had quit playing.  The slam of the kitchen door echoed throughout the house and caused the windows to rattle in their panes.  

 

     Jarrod signaled the musicians to start again.  At the same time Silas sent the girls in from the dining room bearing trays of hors d’oeuvres.  Within seconds people returned to mingling with their neighbors, doing their best to act as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

 

     Mrs. Vanguard looked at Victoria.  “I apologize for the upset, Victoria.  I didn’t mean anything by it.  Why, everything I said was true.  I don’t understand why the boy got so upset.  But then, I suppose one must forgive his poor manners considering his roots and all.  And to think he’s Tom’s son.  Well, who would have ever imagined it?”

 

     Mrs. Vanguard moved toward the parlor, the balding John Peter trailing behind her.  He shook his head as he passed the Barkleys.

 

     “It’s hardly surprising.  He was a no-good mangy little scoundrel as a kid.  I can see not much has changed.  If I were you I wouldn’t allow Audra to be alone with him.  After all, with his kind...well, you just never know.”

 

     Nick lunged forward.  “Why you--”

 

     Jarrod thrust out a hand that landed square in the middle of his brother’s chest.  “Nick.  Just let it be for now.”

 

     “Jarrod--”

 

     The lawyer stepped closer to his brother.  “Nick, the Vanguards have made enough of a scene already.  Let it drop for tonight.”

 

     Nick’s eyes followed Constance and her son.  “I’ll tell you one thing.  As of right now those people are permanently off the Barkley guest list.”

 

     For the first time Victoria spoke.  “Yes, Nick, they are.” 

 

     And with those words Victoria forced herself to smile and turned to greet the next guest, all the while worrying about Heath.

 

 

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     “Heath!  Heath!”  Audra stopped and strained to see into the darkness.  The path lit by torch lamps meant to guide their guests from the front gate to the house was now behind her.  “Heath!”

 

     The young woman lifted her gown again and continued her search.  She bypassed the row of bunkhouses.  Lights shown from within, no doubt many of the hired hands were awake yet playing cards or shooting the bull over a shared a smoke. Nonetheless, Audra knew Heath wouldn’t have sought refuge within any of those walls.  A lot of the men were still unsure of him, their resentment over having to take orders from the newest Barkley evident in their snide remarks or downright defiance of him.  Sometimes their orneriness toward Heath made Audra want to spit at their feet.  If she’d been Nick she would have sent them all packing.  She even said as much to Jarrod one day when she saw Heath walking away from some of the hands in that restrained, proud manner he possessed.   One of the men snickered and cursed, “dumb bastard,” loud enough for everyone to hear.  Heath stopped for just a moment, but never turned around to confront the cowboy.  Within seconds he continued on his way as though nothing had been said.

 

     As Audra watched from the front veranda that afternoon she clenched her fists.  “Oh, sometimes I wish he’d lay right into them and let them all have what they deserve.  How can he just keep walking away from it?”

 

     A quiet voice from behind startled the nineteen year old.

 

     “Because I imagine he’s learned by now that beating someone up every time they say something nasty only gets you two things.  A black eye and sore fists.”

 

     Audra turned as Jarrod crossed the length of the porch.  “You saw?”

 

     “Yes.”

 

     “It happens a lot.”

 

     “I know.”

     “You do?”

 

     “Yes.  And before you ask, so does Nick.”

 

     “Jarrod Barkley, if you and Nick know this is happening how can you stand by and let it continue?”

 

     “Audra, this is going to be hard for you to hear, but Heath has to find his own way.”

 

     “What do you mean?”

 

     “He fought his way onto this ranch and into this family.  But just because we’ve come to accept him as brother, doesn’t mean everyone he encounters will accept him as a Barkley without making him prove himself to them first.  It might not be right, but nonetheless it’s true.  If Nick or I step in every time one of the hands refuses to do what Heath asks then Heath won’t learn how to deal with the situation and the men won’t learn how to respect him.”

     “What makes you so certain that by not stepping in you’re actually helping?”

 

     “A man has a lot of pride, Audra.  Heath more than most.  Believe me, honey, we’d be doing more harm than good to interfere.  I’ve got a feeling that ounce for ounce that blond brother of ours possesses more perseverance than any of the rest of us put together.  Trust me when I say he’ll survive this ‘initiation’ period and come out on top.”

 

     Audra turned from Jarrod and watched as Heath rode out of the barn on Charger.  When he was nothing but a speck in the distance she said,  “He’s still such a mystery to me.  He...there’s something very sweet and gentle about him.  Something very kind and loving.  But if you get too close to touching that part of his soul he pulls back, almost like a turtle retreating into its shell.  Have you ever noticed that?”

 

     “Yes, I’ve noticed it.  We all have.  Mother thinks he’s afraid of being hurt.”

 

     “Being hurt by us?  His family?”

 

     Jarrod shrugged his shoulders. “I imagine Heath’s been hurt by a lot of people in his life.  Whether or not we’re family probably makes little difference at this point.”  The lawyer kissed his sister’s forehead.  “Don’t you worry.  In time, Heath will settle in.”

 

     That conversation with Jarrod had taken place a month ago, and as far as Audra was concerned things hadn’t improved any.  Wasn’t tonight with Mrs. Vanguard a perfect example of the prejudice aimed at Heath by the people in this valley?  Though Constance Vanguard was known to be outspoken, Audra still couldn’t believe what had come streaming out of the woman’s mouth.  And in front of all their guests.  Poor Heath.  What a humiliating experience it must have been for him.

 

     A soft glow coming from a barn window drew Audra to the large structure.  The young woman opened one of the big doors just enough so she could slip in between the crack.  Her horse Ladino, or Lady as she’d long ago been nicknamed, whinnied from her stall. 

 

     If Heath heard Lady, or knew the sound she made meant Audra was now in the barn, he never indicated it.  He sat on a bale of hay in profile to his sister.  His jacket and tie were thrown over a stall door.  The sleeves of his white dress shirt had been rolled up to his elbows. 

 

     Audra traversed the long aisle.  She had no doubt her brother knew she was present.  The taffeta dress was too noisy to keep her presence a secret.  When Audra came to the hay bale she stopped and waited.  Heath didn’t look up at her, nor did he move to make room for her beside him.

 

     “Heath, I--”

 

     “Don’t say it.”

 

     “Don’t say what?”

 

     “Don’t tell me you’re sorry.”

 

     “But I am.”

 

     “For what?”

 

     “For Mrs. Vanguard.  For the things she said.  For--”

 

     “They were all true.  Every single one of them.  I was a bastard kid who didn’t wear shoes and whose mother couldn’t afford to get him a decent hair cut.”

 

     “Heath...”

 

     The man finally made eye contact with the teenager.  “Audra, that’s just the way it was.  No amount of your sympathies or apologies will change the facts.”

 

     “But--”

 

     Heath shot to his feet.  He turned his back on his sister, but not before she saw the set of his jaw and the storm in his eyes.  Audra hadn’t seen her father angry very often, but at that moment she saw Tom Barkley just as sure as if he was standing in front of her. 

 

     “Just go, Audra!  Get back to the party.”

 

     “I’d like you to come with me.”

 

     “Why?  So everyone can look and see if I’m wearin’ shoes?”

 

     “Heath Barkley, that was totally uncalled for and you know it!”

 

     Heath swiveled to face his sister.  “That’s easy for you to say!  You don’t know what it’s like to watch your mother count pennies at the kitchen table in the hopes that she has enough extra money to buy you a pair of shoes before cold weather sets in!  You don’t know what it’s like to hear your mother cry at night because she’s not sure where the next meal is coming from!  You don’t know what it’s like to hear your schoolmates call her a whore because Tom Barkley rode into town one night and left you as evidence of his visit!  You don’t know what it’s like, Audra, and you, with your fancy dresses, and fancy parties, and enough shoes to fill a closet bigger than the bedroom I grew up in, never will!”

 

     Audra’s hand flew to her mouth in an effort to stifle her sobs.  Heath had never been cruel to her before, never tried to make her feel as though she was at fault for the conditions of his childhood.  She thought he knew she was always the first one to come to his defense.  She thought he knew how much it pained her to be aware of all he’d grown up without.  She thought he knew how much she’d come to cherish him as ‘big brother’ in the few short months he’d been with them.  She thought he knew she loved and respected him just as much as she loved and respected Jarrod, Nick, and Eugene. 

 

     But evidently he didn’t.  He didn’t know any of those things, and even if he did his words were evidence of how little he cared.  Audra wanted to shout that at him, wanted to tell him how ungrateful he was, but her tears prevented her from doing anything other than racing from the barn with blind hurt.

 

     Heath turned, taking two steps toward his fleeing sister.  He stopped as he saw green taffeta sail through the open barn door.  He whirled around and slammed his fist into a wooden beam.  He never noticed the pain throbbing from his hand.  The pain in his heart overruled it.

    

              

 

BV    BV    BV    BV    BV    BV

 

 

 

     The party was in full swing when Silas approached Victoria. He’d waited until he could catch her alone then hurried to her side.  Over the sound of the violins he said softly,  “Mrs. Barkley, Miss Audra just ran in from outside.  She flew up the backstairs like the house was on fire.  She was crying so hard it’s a wonder she could see straight.  I thought you’d want to know, ma’am.”

 

     “Yes, Silas.  Thank you.”

 

     So as not to draw attention to herself by climbing the front staircase Victoria followed the black man into the kitchen.  If any of the guests took notice they’d assume she was consulting with Silas on some issue having to do with the party.

 

     Victoria lifted the hem of her midnight blue satin gown and trotted up the wooden stairs.  She knocked when she came to Audra’s closed bedroom door.

 

     “Audra?  Honey, it’s Mother.  Are you in there?”

 

     Audra didn’t have to answer.  Victoria could hear her weeping even through the thick oak barrier.

 

     The woman opened the door to find her only daughter sitting on the edge of her bed.  A steady stream of tears rolled down the girl’s face.   Victoria moved to sit by her side.

 

     “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

 

     “Noth...nothing.”

 

     “Audra, when I find you crying in your room on the night of a party I can hardly believe that nothing is wrong.”  Victoria smoothed the hair that had fallen loose of the clasp at the back of Audra’s head.  She had a strong suspicion she knew what the problem was.  She’d seen Audra chase after Heath.  That was one reason she herself hadn’t gone, and the reason she hadn’t sent Jarrod or Nick after him.  As long as one member of the family was with Heath the rest of them could put on their party faces and try to undo the damage Constance Vanguard had inflicted.  Besides, Victoria thought if anyone could offer Heath comfort it would be Audra.  She thought Heath might talk more freely about his feelings to his sister as opposed to any of his brothers.

 

     “Audra, what happened?  Where’s Heath?”

 

     “In...in the barn.”

 

     “Did you talk to him?”

 

     “I...I tried.”

 

     “And?”

     “He got angry.  He wouldn’t accept my sympathies over what Mrs. Vanguard said.  He...he basically said I didn’t understand what it was like to grow up like he had to.”

 

     The ever-practical Victoria arched an eyebrow.  “Well, do you?”

     “No.  No, I don’t.  But I wasn’t trying to patronize him, Mother.  I just...I just wanted him to know I care.  I just wanted him to know that when people say mean, spiteful things to him it hurts me, too.  That it hurts all of us.”

 

     “I suspect that deep inside Heath does know that, sweetheart.”

     “Then why won’t he let us reach out to him?  Why does he pull away just when he needs us the most?”

     “I don’t know.  Maybe because being a part of family, having three brothers and a sister, is new to him.  Maybe he doesn’t realize that when you’re a member of a family you share things that go far beyond the last piece of pie or conversation at the dinner table.”

 

     “I only wanted to help him.  I didn’t mean to make things worse.”

 

     “I know you didn’t.  And Heath knows that, too.  But in Heath’s defense you have to remember two things.”

     “What?”

     “First of all Constance insulted Heath’s mother.  That was an unforgivable thing for her to do.  And second of all she embarrassed him in front of our guests.  That was also unforgivable.  There’s nothing a man hates more than to be put on the spot by a woman.  Especially a man like Heath.”

     “Jarrod says Heath has a lot of pride.”

     “He does.  Whether he knows it or not he’s like your father in that respect.  Of course Jarrod, Nick, and Eugene possess large doses of the Barkley pride, as well.  But Heath...well sometimes Heath reminds me very much of your father as a young man.  The young man your father was when we first arrived in this valley with nothing but each other and Tom Barkley’s dream.”

 

     Audra looked at her mother with respect shining through her tears.  She reached out and pulled the tiny woman to her.