Forget Me Not-by Buckaroo42
Chapter One
Jarrod entered the stately mansion, feeling welcomed by it’s familiarity. Dropping his bags inside the door, he made his way into the foyer and was greeted by a tiny scream, “Uncle Jarrod!”
Flying down the stairs came a little girl, her dress and curls awhirl as she launched herself into his arms from several feet away. Grabbing her in midair, Jarrod twirled her around before setting her down and kneeling in front of her. Grinning at her infectious smile, he tapped her nose and chuckled, “Well hello, sweetheart!”
Looking up at him, through long lashes and big hazel eyes, she asked excitedly, “Did ya bring me somethin’?”
Grabbing his chin, he raised his eyes skyward in thought, “Hmmm, that depends on whether or not you have sugars for me.”
Planting her hands on her hips, Jarrod smiled at her resemblance to her father. Looking up at him, she said accusingly, “Uncle Jarrod, you said bribry was alegal”
Jarrod laughed and slapped his thighs, “So I did, little one!” Picking her up in his arms, he balanced the four-year-old on his hip as he reached into his vest pocket to retrieve the bright blue hair ribbon. “How about I give this to you and you give me my sugars?”
Seeing the ribbon, her eyes widened with surprise and her tiny hands grasped it tightly. Her small arms latched onto his neck and he received a tiny hug from his overzealous niece, “Oh Uncle Jarrod, it is so beau…ti…ful! Thank you!”
Hugging her back, Jarrod smiled, “You are welcome little one.” It wasn’t often he got to see Lacy anymore and he enjoyed indulging her, despite her parents argument that he was spoiling her. She lifted herself higher in his arms and planted tiny kisses all over his face. Pulling back, she asked innocently, “Is that enough sugar for you Uncle Jarrod?”
Jarrod smiled, “It was perfect, Lacy” Putting her down, he told her, “Why don’t you go find Grandma and show her your ribbon?”
Lacy started to scamper away, then rushed back and hugged his legs. Tilting her head way back, she looked up and smiled, “Thanks Uncle Jarrod. You’re the best.”
Dropping his hand on her mass of curls he said, “So are you little one. Now, why don’t you go find Grandma and tell her I’m home.” He playfully patted her on the behind as he sent her off then turned and headed into his study. He missed not being around his niece all the time. He’d been around the first two and half years of her life, but since getting married he had found less and less time to make it to the ranch, choosing instead to live in San Francisco. Actually it was more Marilyn’s choice than his. His wife was uncomfortable away from the city and at the time he would have done anything to make her happy, so they made San Francisco their permanent residence.
Pouring himself of drink, he stood at his desk, looking over some of the paperwork that had accumulated in his absence. His visits to the ranch were few and far between, but he tried to get back at least once a month. At least when he was here instead of in San Francisco he could relax his guard and actually enjoy himself. He stood nursing his drink, leaning over the desk perusing the various pieces of paper when his mother entered.
Victoria’s greeting was enthusiastic, “Jarrod! How nice to see you.” Holding out her arms, Jarrod moved into her embrace and gave her a small kiss on the cheek. He acknowledged her look of inquiry by answering her unasked question. “Marilyn wasn’t feeling well. She decided to stay home.”
His mother placed a comforting hand on his arm and said worriedly, “Nothing serious I hope.”
Jarrod smiled for his mother’s sake, “I’m sure she’ll be fine,” he said, patting her hand as he moved to sit behind the desk. Dropping into his chair, he put his foot up and leaned back, clasping his hands in front of him. Victoria followed and leaned on the edge of the desk. Looking down at him, she said with concern, “You look tired.”
Staring absently, his mind wandered. He was tired. More tired than he remembered being in a long time, and it wasn’t from lack of sleep. Although, that was part of it. He was hoping a few days at the ranch would revitalize him, or at the very least give him some relief from the anxiety at home. His train of thought was broken by his mother’s voice. “Jarrod?”
Distracted, he looked up with a frown, “Hmmm?”
Victoria leaned forward and took his hand, “I said you look tired, dear.”
Squeezing her hand, he smiled to reassure her, “Nothing a few days rest won’t cure.” His eyes were still distant as he sat holding her hand.
“Will you be staying long this time?”
Jarrod shook his head and sighed, “No. Only a few days. I hate to leave Marilyn by herself for too long.” Jarrod didn’t point out that he was afraid to leave her for any length of time because of the shape she would be in when he got back. Ever since the loss of their son in childbirth six months ago she had begun drinking to ease her pain. He too had agonized over the loss of a son he would never have the chance to know, but Marilyn couldn’t seem to get past it. She was consumed with the loss and nothing he said or did could stop her downward spiral.
He hated leaving her alone, but he still had obligations to his family and to the ranch. He was doing his best to hide her problems from outsiders, but he was at his wits end as to what to do. Struggling to keep their marital problems private, he felt himself failing as a husband, but still tried to be there for his wife. Her attitude towards him was disconcerting, but he refused to give up on her, thinking that with time she would forgive herself for losing the baby. If that wasn’t bad enough, their hopes for any more children had died with the first. He tried being sympathetic, but she was no longer the woman he’d fallen in love with and he was beginning to dread spending the rest of his life with the hateful, bitter woman that she had become.
“You should get some rest. Nick can help you sort through all this when he returns this evening,” said Victoria, waving her hand over the mess on the desk. She was aware that Jarrod was having a hard time at home, putting aside his own grief to care for Marilyn. None of the family had seen her since the funeral and with each visit home Jarrod made excuses for her absence. His trips to Stockton were infrequent and Victoria couldn’t help but notice that he not only looked tired but he’d lost some weight as well. A private man by nature, she knew Jarrod would tell them no more than they needed to know regarding his wife, but even she wasn’t blind to the fact that something was eating away at him.
Jarrod eased himself out of his chair and laying his hands on her shoulders, kissed her forehead, “Thank you mother. I think I’ll do just that.” Victoria sighed as she watched him leave, his shoulders sagging wearily. Whatever was bothering Jarrod was obviously weighing heavy on his mind. Shaking her head sadly, she swept from the room in search of Silas. She may not be able to solve his problems but she could make sure that he ate well while he was here. Maybe a few of his favorites over the next few days would put some meat back on his lean frame.
***********
Jarrod returned to San Francisco a few days later feeling much better than when he’d left, but that changed as soon as he stepped over the threshold of his home and was immediately confronted by Marilyn.
“Where have you been?” she demanded. She stood in front of him, her hair in disarray and she was still dressed in her night clothes. This close, he could smell the alcohol on her breath and he wondered where she’d gotten it this time.
Grasping her arms, he pushed her back and took off his coat and tie as he addressed his drunken wife as nicely as he could muster, “I was in Stockton, Marilyn. I told you where I was going before I left.”
Her fingers latched onto his arm and her nails dug into flesh as she snarled, “You did not. I’ve been here all alone worried about where you were and then I find out you’re off gallivanting around the countryside.”
Grimacing in pain, he unclasped her fingers from his arm and held her wrist, noticing small drops of blood forming on his shirt where she’d broken the skin. He tried to ignore the pain she’d inflicted as he spoke to her tersely, “I was at the ranch, Marilyn.”
Struggling in his grasp, Marilyn resorted to pounding his chest with her free hand, as she whined loudly, “You never take me anywhere with you anymore. I hate you.”
Incredulous, he spoke more harshly then he intended, “You didn’t want to go! You never want to go. Don’t pin this on me Marilyn.”
Her blows became frantic and Jarrod flinched with each one as he tried to stop her attack. Frustrated, he grabbed her and wrapped his arms around her, effectively pinning her against his chest. She resisted his efforts and continued to squirm as she kicked at his shins unmercifully. Desperate and hurting, he sank to the floor and tried to calm her down, “Marilyn, please stop this!” As suddenly as her attack began it ended and Jarrod sat holding her as she broke down sobbing. Leaning over her shoulder he spoke sympathetically, “Shhhh...let’s get you to bed. The rest will do you some good.”
She continued to cry as he picked her up, “I’m sorry Jarrod. I’m so sorry. Please don’t tell anyone...I promise I’ll be better.” Her voice drifted as her eyes closed and Jarrod knew she was already asleep. Wincing in pain, he limped upstairs with his wife in his arms and gently placed her in her bed. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at her slumbering form. Her bed...he no longer even shared a bed with his own wife. That wasn’t what saddened him though. What saddened him was the fact that he no longer wanted to. Something deep inside of him still cared for the woman that lay before him, but her vindictive behavior was something he couldn’t reconcile with. On more than one occasion of late, he’d had to nurse his own wounds after one of her drunken incidents.
Shoulders heavy with frustration, he went to his own room and sprawled on the bed exhausted. Whatever benefit he had gained from his time at the ranch vanished in his struggles with Marilyn. He sighed heavily and wondered how things had gotten to this point. Each day was worse than the one before and he no longer wanted any part of it. All his efforts to help Marilyn had been for naught. Initially, he tried locking up the alcohol. When that hadn’t worked, he removed it from the premises. That only worked for a short time, before desperation drove Marilyn out of the house in search of her own source. Where she got it, he could never determine but short of locking her in her own house he didn’t know what else to do. He’d talked to her about getting help, but she refused to even admit she had a problem. Whenever he brought it up, she would invariably turn the tables and try to blame him for all her problems. He tried being sympathetic, he tried being understanding, he even suggested they go somewhere and try to resolve their problems. Marilyn no longer listened to anything he had to say...her only friend was the bottle. So, unless absolutely necessary, he tried to avoid her altogether, but living in the same house made even that difficult. For a brief time he considered moving out, but the words ‘through sickness and health’ haunted him. She was after all his wife, if only on paper, and he was morally obligated to her.
No...this was his problem and he would have to find some way of dealing with it, before she did something foolish. As much as he hated to admit it, Jarrod Barkley was embarrassed that his wife was an alcoholic and he felt he was somehow less of a man because he was powerless to stop it.
Chapter
Two
A month later Jarrod came home late from work, his mind distracted by recent weeks. For the past week he had been working late into the night trying to get ready for an upcoming trial and most of his time at home was spent sleeping. The only time he saw Marilyn was if he checked on her before leaving for work. He sighed with relief each morning when he found her sound asleep in her bed. Since his return from Stockton she had begun questioning his every move, suddenly curious about his whereabouts at every given moment of the day. Their conversations invariably ended in false accusations with her lashing out at him in anger. With his late hours and early mornings he’d managed to avoid her all week. He felt guilty for feeling the way he did about his own wife, but the bruises and scratches were more frequent and he was growing weary of fending off both her verbal and physical attacks with every encounter.
James, the house servant, met him at the door and took the coat that Jarrod had already shed. “Thank you, James.”
“Can I get you somethin’ to eat Mr. Barkley?”
“No thank you James. I had something earlier. I’m just going to drop this off in the study and go to bed.” Jarrod held up his briefcase.
“You need anything. You be lettin’ me know.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine. You can head to bed yourself.”
“Yes, Sir.” James wasted no time making himself scarce. Jarrod was always amazed at James ability to show up and disappear at just the right times. Shaking his head ruefully he headed to his study.
His mind on other things, he never saw his attacker as he entered his study. Just as he stepped into the room, he felt a staggering blow to the back of his head and the subsequent pain caused him to stumble forward. Fighting to stay on his feet, he reached back and gingerly felt his head as he turned towards his assailant. His bloody hand fell limply to his side as he stared in disbelief at Marilyn. She stood several feet away, a bloody fireplace poker clasped tightly in her grip. Her eyes were wild with hatred and Jarrod cautiously stepped away from her menacing posture, noticing warily that she still held the poker in threatening manner.
His heart was racing and he blinked back the haze that wanted to overtake him. He looked at his wife and couldn’t make sense of anything that was happening. He was well aware of her hatred and loathing towards him, but his brain couldn’t process what had just transpired. He looked down and noticed his blood-stained hand. He frowned in confusion and held it out for Marilyn to see as he asked in disbelief, “Why?”
Her laugh was almost hysterical as she slurred her response, “Why? You spend all night out with one of your whores and you have the nerve to ask me why!”
Jarrod watched her carefully as she ranted and could feel the blood from his head wound trickle down his neck. His head pounded in time to his heartbeat and he concentrated hard on staying alert, afraid if he dropped his guard she would advance on him. He was trying to edge closer to a nearby chair without alerting Marilyn, hoping to use it to support his wobbling legs. His head was swimming and nausea threatened but he pushed it aside, his eyes never leaving his deranged wife. Eyeing her warily, he spoke softly, “I was working Marilyn. I have a big court case I’ve been preparing for. There is no one but you, sweetheart. Please put the poker down and we’ll talk. Okay?”
His watched as his words had the desired affect and she slowly lowered the poker. It still hung limply in her hand, but Jarrod released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Taking a deep breath, he eased himself around the chair and sat down heavily as he continued to talk in soothing tones, afraid if he lost his temper at this point Marilyn might erupt again. “Why don’t you put that down and talk to me. We haven’t really talked in a long time.” As he spoke, he reached into his pocket and took out his handkerchief. Very carefully, he used it to try and stop the bleeding at the back of his head. He had no idea how bad the cut was, but he needed to stop the flow of blood before he passed out. He winced when the cloth touched the wound and he forced himself to apply the needed pressure. He sat holding it to his head as he looked at Marilyn. She was staring at him blankly, lost in her own little world, muttering incomprehensibly. Her state of mind shocked him and he shivered with fear. It was unnerving to realize he was suddenly very afraid of his own wife. He had let it go on far too long hoping she would snap out of the depressed state she was in. Obviously he had underestimated the seriousness of Marilyn’s condition.
Gathering his resolve, he spoke tenderly, “Marilyn? You need help sweetheart. Please let me help you. We’ll do whatever it takes, but you can’t go on like this.” Her features softened for only a second, and just as quickly he saw the anger return. Throwing the poker at him, she turned and stomped out of the room. Jarrod dodged the flying poker and sat there numbly watching the door. He leaned back in relief and felt his eyes closing. His eyes shot open and he sat up quickly, his breathing and heartbeat racing anxiously. Getting to his feet, he staggered to the door and grabbing it, hastily shut and locked it. Only then did he feel truly safe and his body began to betray him. His legs no longer had the strength to hold him up and he fell to his knees. Leaning his head into the closed door, his body sagged and he uttered, “Oh god!”
The whole ordeal left him shaking and he knew he needed to move, but all he wanted to do was rest. His mind began to drift and he was startled awake by a soft knock on the study door. Not knowing who was on the other side, Jarrod couldn’t stop his heart from racing as he jerked away from the door. Only when he heard the quiet voice of James did he begin breathing again. “Mr. Barkley? Is you okay in there?”
Using the door for support, Jarrod rose unsteadily to his feet. Leaning heavily into the door, he waited for the dizziness to pass. His head pounded with each heartbeat and closing his eyes, he swallowed several times to stop the rising nausea. Finally, he found his voice and spoke through the door, “Just a second, James.”
Moving in what seemed like slow motion, he fumbled with the lock before finally opening the door and letting James in. Hurrying inside, James closed the door and stared at his employer with wide eyes. “You be hurt Mr. Barkley.” Jarrod’s collar was soaked red with blood and James quickly led him back to the chair to sit down. Jarrod slumped forward and allowed James to look at the back of his head. James gently removed the handkerchief and Jarrod flinched as he tried to move away from the pain. James exclaimed quietly, “Now don’t you be movin’. You gonna be needin’ some stitchin’ on this, Mr. Barkley!”
Moving to the bar, James returned with a hand towel and placed it on the wound, causing Jarrod to wince. “I be sorry Mr. Barkley. You hold that there while I go for the doctor.” James helped Jarrod lean back and let the chair supply the necessary pressure. He looked at Jarrod with concern and sighed, then shook his head at situation. “I be right back.”
Jarrod had his eyes closed, and he opened them as James started to leave. His voice was quiet but firm as he spoke to James, “Lock the door on your way out James.”
“She be sleepin’ now Mr. Barkley.” James spoke matter-of-factly, leaving out any blame in his voice, but clearly sympathetic to his employer.
Frowning, Jarrod questioned his employee, “James?”
Stopping at the door, James turned and answered, “Yes, Sir.”
“How long have you known?”
James shrugged his shoulders. “Long time, Sir. Figured it weren’t none of my business.”
Jarrod looked at him and sighed, “I’m sorry you have to deal with her.” His eyes widened and he asked anxiously, “Has she ever...threatened you?”
Shaking his head, James reassured him, “No, sir. She don’t come outta her room much when you ain’t here. Long as she has what she need she don’t bother me.”
Sighing with relief, Jarrod relaxed. “You go get the doctor James. I’ll be fine.”
“Yes, Sir.” James bowed his head and hurried out of the room.
Jarrod sat waiting for the doctor, his head pounding miserably. He unbuttoned his vest and undid his tie, then stretched out his long legs as he slouched further into the chair. He tried to contemplate the night’s events but his mind wouldn’t hold on to any one thought for very long. All he knew for sure was that he was very, very tired.
Someone was shaking him, “Mr. Barkley.” Not realizing he fallen asleep, Jarrod was startled awake.
Sitting up quickly, he immediately regretted it and grabbed at the back of his head, forgetting he was injured. “Damn.” He slowly lifted his eyes and found James and the doctor looking at him with worried expressions.
The doctor reached forward and removed Jarrod’s hand as he spoke, “Better let me have a look at that Mr. Barkley.” Very carefully the doctor removed the towel. It was stuck in several places and Jarrod winced with every tug the doctor made.
“I’m Doctor Byers, by the way. Did you lose consciousness at any time Mr. Barkley?”
Jarrod had his head down and his voice was strained with pain as he spoke, “No.”
The doctor continued to work as he talked to his patient, “That’s a good sign. You have a pretty nasty cut back here. What happened?”
“A little altercation that got out of hand.” Jarrod wasn’t sure why he didn’t tell the doctor the truth. It wasn’t actually a lie anyway. Only thing was, it wasn’t really an altercation...it was a flat out attack. He’d had no chance to defend himself against Marilyn. She’d blindsided him and even if she hadn’t, he never would have expected such a brutal attack. As hard as he tried he couldn’t come to terms with her unconditional hatred towards him.
“You need some stitches, Mr. Barkley. I don’t want to give you anything for pain, it being a head wound and all. It is going to hurt some,” said Doctor Byers. He took up his needle and thread and hesitated, waiting for his patient to respond.
Jarrod waved off his concern, his voice was flat as he spoke, “Just get it over with.”
“You hold still and I’ll be as quick as I can.” Jarrod dropped his head down and let the doctor do his job. In no time at all he was stitched up and bandaged.
Closing his bag, the doctor looked at his weary patient. “You keep that clean. I’ll leave you some headache powders. You have a slight concussion so I expect you to get some rest. Don’t overdo it for a few days.”
Jarrod wasn’t really paying attention, so James answered for his employer, “I see to it, doctor.”
James led Doctor Byers out and Jarrod stayed sitting in his chair, shock over the whole affair settling into his mind. When James returned, Jarrod’s whole demeanor was one of despair. His expression was vacant, his eyes unfocused and James wasted no time getting Jarrod to his room. Settling him in bed, James shook his head sadly but made no comment. Turning down the lantern, he settled into a nearby chair to keep watch over his employer as he slept.
Chapter
Three
Jarrod stood outside the stage stop waiting to board. It would be another long journey. The ride out was bad enough, but both the temperature and humidity seemed to have gone up in the short time since his arrival a few days earlier. Dressed in ranch clothes, with his gun belt slung low on his hips he looked nothing like the lawyer of yesterday. He was glad he didn’t have to wear a suit for the trip home. Even this early in the morning he could feel the moisture in the air and he knew by midday the heat would be sweltering. His thumbs tucked into his vest, he watched a woman approach the stage in casual eastern finery. He sympathized with her. She was gonna be miserable by days end. As she walked by, Jarrod tipped his hat and spoke, “Ma’am.”
She held her head high ignoring his presence, but Jarrod saw her eyes dart his way as she walked past him. Hiding his grin, he moved toward the stage door and opened it for her. Removing his hat, he bowed graciously and once again addressed her, “Ma’am.” With his hat in hand, he motioned for her to enter before him. She eyed him warily and ignored his offered hand as she climbed into the stage. With a small shake of his head, Jarrod pushed his hat back on his head, boarded behind her and took the seat opposite. Up close she appeared to be in her mid to late twenties, much younger than his original estimate. Her hair was a dark brown and her eyes blue and Jarrod thought she might even pass for attractive if she could lose the serious expression. She ignored his perusal and he quickly averted his eyes, too much a gentleman to be caught leering at a young woman. The stage suddenly lurched forward and she was thrown off balance. Jarrod reached out to help her, but she hastily pulled away from his grasp and sat back up. Ignoring her look of contempt, Jarrod introduced himself with a tip his hat, “Jarrod Barkley ma’am.”
She eyed him with distain as she spoke tersely, “Mr. Barkley, I don’t wish to appear rude, but I am not interested in your advances. It would be best if you kept your comments to yourself during our journey together.”
With a slight nod of his head Jarrod responded in kind, “Not making advances ma’am, just being polite, seeing as we’ll be traveling together.” With a slight grin he added, “I’ll be sure and keep my comments to myself.” Leaning back, he crossed his arms over his chest and stretched out, careful to avoid Miss whatever her name was. Reaching up, he tipped his hat low over his eyes and with a small chuckle, shook his head. It was going to be a very long trip home. Seemed lately, women didn’t think too highly of him.
Showing up at work the morning after Marilyn’s attack, he was informed that the upcoming trial would be delayed due to some potentially bogus land deals in Arizona. Hence this trip to Yuma. He’d left the next morning in hopes of discovering information vital to the case, and had no chance to even talk to Marilyn. He felt bad leaving James to deal with her, but he’d had no choice in the matter. The four day stage ride did allow him a lot of time to think about his options and he felt much better by the time he reached Yuma. His first thought was to simply move out of the house, leaving Marilyn to fend for herself, but despite everything, he still felt responsible for her. She was after all still his wife and would remain so even if he made other living arrangements. His second option was to get her to talk to a doctor, but that had met with considerable resistance in the past. She refused to admit she had any sort of problem, therefore why did she need help. So he decided on the third option. Once he returned home, he was going to hire a qualified nurse to care for her, and free James from the task of looking after his wife. He was undecided on whether he was going to stay in the house or move out, but figured he still had four days to make a final decision. Four long, hot days by the looks of things.
The evening brought little relief from the heat and Jarrod was soaked in sweat by the time the stage stopped for the night. Glancing towards the setting sun as he exited the stage, he was glad to note it wouldn’t be long before the temperatures began to drop into the comfortable range. The humidity was still high, especially for this part of the country, and Jarrod figured they’d probably be getting some rain in the near future. While the rain might cool it down some, it would also worsen the road conditions, making for a very uncomfortable ride. They had two more days of traveling in the desert and stops would be fewer and farther between due to the lack of water. Looking at his fellow passenger as she stepped down from the stage, Jarrod wasn’t all too sure she was going to hold up. Her face was flushed with the heat and he watched her carefully as she walked into the station. As hot as he was, she had to be feeling stifled with all those petticoats and such. He followed her in and made sure she was seated before he returned to the pump for some cool water. The stationmaster was busy with the horses, so Jarrod filled the water bucket and took it back inside. Setting it on the table, he offered the heat exhausted woman a drink. “Here, you better get some water in you. You won’t do yourself any good if you pass out from the heat.”
She took the offered water and drank it down, then refilled it again as Jarrod looked around the small station. He wondered what she was going do when she realized she would be sleeping in the cabin with three men. Not for the first time, Jarrod wondered what she was doing traveling alone. Women of her obvious status didn’t usually travel across country by themselves. His thoughts were broken by her quiet voice, “Thank you...Mr. Barkley.”
“You’re welcome...” He left the statement open hoping she would supply him with a name. He was getting tired of thinking of her as just Miss whatever your name is.
“Madeline...Madeline Harcourt.” A small smile graced her face and Jarrod grinned with satisfaction.
Jarrod tipped his hat, “Miss Harcourt.” He hesitated a moment then asked her, “Not that it is any of my business, but where are you headed?”
Her serious expression returned and she retorted, “You’re right Mr. Barkley, it is none of your business.” She stood up and snapped at him, “If you would be so kind as to step outside, I would like to freshen up. Something you people out here might try now and then.”
Jarrod sighed at her attitude, but couldn’t hold his tongue at her rudeness. “I wouldn’t take too long Miss Harcourt. You’ve got three powerful hungry men that will be looking to eat soon.” He opened the door to leave then turned and added with a smirk, “Out here, we expect our woman to know how to cook and seeing as you’re the only woman available, you’ll be doing the cooking.” His words had the desired affect as Miss Harcourt stared at him in obvious disbelief. He walked out trying to hide his amusement. He’d been this route earlier in the week and anything was better than Joe, the stationmaster’s cooking. All he had to do was have a little talk with Joe about who was doing the cooking tonight and Miss Harcourt might not be so quick with that tongue of hers. Besides, her cooking couldn’t be any worse than Joe’s. Tonight would be the last decent meal they would get for the next two days. The stations along the rest of the desert route were unmanned, and rations would be limited to jerky and beans. Jarrod smiled ruefully at that thought, wondering how the high and mighty Madeline Harcourt would take to that.
*********
All three men sighed with contentment at Miss Madeline Harcourt’s cooking skills. Supper the previous night was the best stage meal any of them could remember and this morning was no different. Belly’s full of good food, Miss Harcourt could do no wrong and the men lavished her with praise and good manners. She remained tight lipped, but Jarrod could sense her warming slightly and he hoped it would last for at least some of their journey west. The sun’s rays were just peeking over the horizon, turning the cloud cover red, as they pulled out that morning. The predicted rain was coming down in a light drizzle, but no one complained. Anything was better then the oppressive heat of yesterday. All day they rode in the rain and even Charlie, the driver, commented on the fact that it was unusual for it to rain so much. Usually in the desert the rains came and went quickly, never lasting long. Night brought no change and by midmorning the following day, the rain was no longer soaking into the once dry ground. The road was becoming treacherous, and Charlie struggled to keep the horses moving through the thickening mud, when suddenly lightening dance across the sky, followed by a large clap of thunder. The horses bolted at the deafening noise and took off at a dead run, anxious to get away from the threat. The stage bounced with every rut and the passengers were helplessly thrown about inside. Jarrod fought for some sort of handhold as he reached over to help the terrified Miss Harcourt. She clasped onto his arm with a death grip, leaving him only one hand to grab for support. He yelled at her over the thunder and rattling stage, “Grab the window ledge!”
Her eyes were wide with fear and her face ghost white, she nodded and grabbed for the window. The only sounds coming from inside the stage were grunts of pain as they were slammed about, occasionally connecting with one of the walls or ceiling as the stage bucked up and down in its mad race down the road. The wild ride seemed to go on forever when the stage occupants heard Charlie’s frantic shout, “JUMP!!”
Jarrod wasted no time opening the door and pushing Miss Harcourt towards it as he told her, “Jump!”
Madeline looked terrified and she reached for any part of Jarrod she could get a hold of as he struggled to make her jump. Finally getting a hold of her wrists he pulled her hands away and moving towards the door, pushed her clear of the stage. Standing in the door he glanced upwards and was alarmed to note that Charlie was no longer driving the stage. Just as he turned to jump himself, the horses veered sharply to avoid a rock slide and instead came in contact with a large deadfall. The horses cleared it with a small jump but the stage wheels struck the tree with enough force to snap the harnesses holding the horses, setting them free. The sudden impact catapulted Jarrod skyward and he watched helplessly as the ground rushed up to meet him. His last conscious thoughts before he was slammed into the rocks was how much it was going to hurt, assuming of course he lived.
Chapter
Four
Madeline rolled for several feet over the soft, wet ground before coming to a stop. She was soaked and muddy, but seemed to be in one piece. Sitting up, she watched the stage hit the deadfall and begin a deadly roll just as Jarrod was thrown into the air. Everything seemed to go in slow motion as Jarrod’s airborne body began its downward descent. She watched in horror as the rolling stage followed his path only to settle in the same area she’d seen him land. From her vantage point, it was impossible to see if he’d managed to avoid being crushed by its weight. Forgetting her own needs, she got to her feet and cried out in pain when her right ankle came in contact with the ground. Regaining her breath, she tested the ankle and although it was painful it did bear her weight. Grimacing in pain, she righted herself and took a few tentative steps. Biting her lip, she kept from crying out, but her eyes filled with tears as she limped towards the wreckage. The rain was coming down harder and she struggled to see through the down pour. Her feet slipped in the mud, jarring her injured ankle and she stumbled to he knees, gasping in pain. Her curls clung to her face and she brushed them aside, trying to get a better view of what was around her. Only a few feet away she could make out a still form lying in the mud. Crawling her way forward, it became obvious by the odd angle of his neck, that Charlie hadn’t survived his fall from the stage. Sitting in the mud, her head ducked in silent prayer, Madeline let herself cry. It only lasted a few minutes, but she felt surprisingly better for it.
She got to her feet once more and carefully made her way through the mud towards where the stage lay. The mud bogged her down and she stumbled several times before she finally stood at the edge of the wreckage. Panting for air and caked in mud, she scanned the site for Mr. Barkley and was relieved to see him clear of the stage, not buried under it. Her limp more pronounced now, she stumbled over to his prone form amongst the rocks and debris. He lay unmoving and Madeline reached a trembling hand to his neck, fearful of what she would find. Her fingers found a slow and steady pulse and she sighed in relief. Swinging her head, she flicked the long dripping strands of hair from her face so she could see better. Looking down, she gently ran her hands over Jarrod’s frame trying to determine the extent of his injuries. As she probed his ribs, Jarrod moaned but never woke. The same happened when she touched his shoulder. Judging from his injuries, Madeline figured he must have landed on his left side.
The steady rainfall was a nuisance and her nerves were frayed from the wreck and subsequent events. She was wet and cold and just wanted to find someplace warm to curl up and sleep. For several long moments Madeline sat staring into the rain, contemplating her predicament, until she realized she was now shivering from the cold. Shaking herself from her self pity, she looked around and tried to come up with some sort of plan. The stage lay in a heap just a few feet away and it was then that she noticed it was for the most part in one piece. The wheels had been ripped away, and the carriage was a little worse for wear, but she decided that it would at least provide them some protection from the elements. The carriage sat on its roof, and Madeline sent a thank you skyward that the door was facing them. Turning back towards Jarrod, she knew she had to get him out of the rain but wasn’t sure how to proceed. He still lay unconscious and she wasn’t sure if moving him was such a good idea, but laying out in the rain certainly wasn’t going to do him any good either. The only problem was she wasn’t sure she could even drag him into the stage, even with his help, let alone by herself. With a sigh of resignation, she nudged Jarrod’s shoulder in an attempt to wake him.
“Mr. Barkley!” Madeline nudged him harder and spoke louder, “Mr. Barkley!”
Jarrod moaned, but made no effort to waken. Madeline hesitated, then shook him gently on his sore shoulder. The effect was immediate and she watched as Jarrod’s eyelids fluttered open and he moaned pitifully, “Stop!”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Barkley, but we need to get you out of the rain.” Madeline was shaking in earnest, both from the cold and the situation. Her voice was desperate as she pleaded with the injured man, “Please, Mr. Barkley...I need you to help.”
Jarrod tried to get his mind to concentrate on something besides the pain that was threatening to send him back into oblivion. Every little movement sent an explosion of pain through his body so he lay unblinking, unmoving trying to fight off the haze that would bring some relief. Jarrod took slow shallow breaths and listened to Miss Harcourt’s pleas, her voice stuttering from the cold as she tried to get through to him, “We need to... to get out of... of this rain. It’s only a few feet...Please.”
Jarrod took as deep a breath as he dared and squeezed his eyes tight against the pain as he tried to get his knees under him. The effort was an exhausting and painful torture before he was finally able to roll over onto his back. The rain suddenly felt good against his heated skin and he lay gasping for air, every breath sending a stabbing pain into his ribs. His face was clenched in pain and he forced his eyes open only to see Miss Harcourt hovering over him worriedly. Unsure at her sudden concern, he hesitated before reaching up his hand for help. Madeline quickly grabbed his outstretched arm and used her other hand to support his back as she helped him sit up. Jarrod couldn’t stop the moan of pain that escaped his mouth at the added pain the movement caused. The pain in his left shoulder was agonizing and his entire left side throbbed with every beat of his heart as he found himself sweating despite the rain. He dropped his head to his chest and would have drifted off but for Miss Harcourt’s pleas.
Madeline was shocked at his condition when he had rolled over. His shoulder was obviously dislocated and the left side of his face was scraped and swollen with deep purple bruises already forming. Judging from his labored breathing she suspected he had more than one broken or bruised ribs. “I’m sorry Mr. Barkley. Just a few feet backward and you’ll be in the stage. I’ll help you.” Madeline was suddenly thankful for the cold rain and it’s numbing properties. The time spent lying in the cold mud soaked to the skin had undoubtedly aided in keeping some of his pain hidden. Moving around so she was behind him, she grabbed him around the chest and pulled on him gently to get him moving. He tried to move his left leg to help, but his hip screamed at the attempt and he resorted to using just the right one. Jarrod bit down on his lip and used his good leg to scoot himself backwards. When they reached the edge of the stage door Jarrod looked back at the distance he would have to lift himself up to get into the carriage. Madeline was already inside ready to help in what would be very painful for his battered frame. She waited patiently for Jarrod to ready himself and whispered sympathetically, “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll try to help.”
Jarrod nodded and dropped his head. His body screamed in protest but he knew that sitting in the rain wasn’t going to get the job done, so he steeled himself against the pain and bracing his right hand against the door, tried to lever himself up into the carriage. He cried out unexpectedly at the pain and he felt Miss Harcourt reach under his arm and help him into the carriage. After what seemed an eternity he was finally inside and found himself being lowered to the floor where he gave up his struggle against the pain and let the darkness comfort him.
While Jarrod slept, Madeline went back outside and in the waning light, she sorted through the debris and gathered anything that might be remotely useful. Several trips later she managed to find blankets, food, water and even a small stockpile of medical supplies. She’d found both of hers and Mr. Barkley’s luggage and hoped that the clothes inside were dryer than the ones she wore. The blankets were only slightly damp, having been protected under the boot at the back of the stage. There wasn’t much food, but hopefully it would be enough to last them a couple of days. She’d found Charlie’s rifle and Mr. Barkley still had his pistol so she didn’t feel quite so vulnerable against the wild animals that might venture too close. Madeline couldn’t help but smile at that thought. Her father would be appalled to learn that she would handle a gun let alone actually know how to shoot one.
By the time she was finally back at the stage her ankle was throbbing unmercifully and Madeline winced when she had to put all her weight on it to get into the stage. Madeline got her own bag, rummaged through it and found a change of clothes, thankful they were relatively dry. Taking a moment to make sure Jarrod was still sleeping, Madeline stripped out of her wet clothes and quickly donned the dry ones. Finding Jarrod’s bag, she pulled out a change of dry clothes and wondered how she was going to get him into them. Moving to kneel beside Jarrod, Madeline sighed at the job ahead. Jarrod’s wet, muddy clothes clung to him and she knew that they would have to come off it he was ever going to get warm again. Even in dry clothes, Madeline still felt cold so she gathered her resolve and did what was necessary. It was a struggle without any cooperation from Jarrod, but she was thankful he never woke during the ordeal. Her short stint as a nurse allowed her to do what was necessary without thinking about the man beneath the clothes. Her mind focused on the patient, she surveyed his injuries with a clinical mind, but couldn’t stop the gasp at the multitude of bruises on his left side. His leg, from hip to knee was beginning to swell, but she was glad to note that nothing felt broken. His side was one huge bruise that covered him front to back, and Madeline used a spare petticoat to wrap his ribs. His dislocated left shoulder needed attention and she decided that it might be easier to fix it while he was unconscious. Madeline shook her head in frustration. Before she could fix his shoulder, she was going to have to do something about his wrist. It was swollen and bruised all the way up his forearm and down into his hand. As gently as she could, Madeline probed his arm and found the broken bone just above his wrist. Setting the arm down, she tore a few more strips from her petticoat and went outside to find some sticks to splint the arm once she set it. She’d seen it done, but had never actually done it herself.
Nervous, Madeline wiped the sweat from her brow and moved next to Jarrod. Contemplating for a moment, she decided that it might be easier to set the arm at the same time that she relocated his shoulder. Standing up, she reached down and gently grabbed his hand and pulled it upward. Jarrod moaned and stirred, but didn’t wake. Placing her foot in his armpit for support, Madeline pulled on his hand as hard as she could until she heard the distinctive pop of the shoulder realigning and felt the bone in his lower arm slide into place. Releasing the breath she didn’t realize she was holding, she carefully folded his arm across his chest and sank to the floor. Taking up the splints she bound his arm, then rigged a makeshift sling and hoped she’d set it right. Using the driest blanket, she covered Jarrod and began the task of cleaning up the cuts on his face. The days events were catching up with her and all she wanted to do was sleep, but she made sure Jarrod was taken care of before she would allow herself any rest. An hour after getting him into the stage she finally finished her duties. Sitting back against the wall, Madeline realized it was getting too dark to see much and she pulled Jarrod’s pistol from it’s holster and laid it in her lap. Closing her eyes, it wasn’t long before she drifted into sleep.
Chapter
Five
Sometime in the middle of the night Jarrod shifted in his sleep and groaned out loud at the pain that overtook him. Disoriented and hurting, he tried to sit up but his body refused to respond to his demands. Panicking at the inability to move, his breathing increased and with it came more pain. Madeline was quickly at his side issuing soft reassurances, “It’s okay Mr. Barkley. You need to calm down.”
Jarrod relaxed at the sound of her voice and muttered weakly, “Hurts.” He was bathed in sweat despite the cool night air and his shallow breaths were a testament to the pain he was in.
Madeline stroked his hair and spoke sympathetically, “I know, but if you lie still it won’t be as bad.” Rummaging around for something she returned to his side and spoke, “I have some medicine for the pain.” Jarrod didn’t say anything but she felt him nod against her hand. After giving him the laudanum, she sat for several minutes soothing him back into sleep. His body was slightly feverish and Madeline hoped it was just from the shock his body had gone through. She done her best to clean out the cuts in his face and she was prayed that infection wouldn’t set in. Several times that night he woke and Madeline was there to comfort him.
Morning dawned early, and Madeline was happy to see that his fever was gone. His chest rose and fell in short, shallow breaths as he slept. Pulling the blanket up over his bare shoulders, Madeline rose and made her way out of the stage. Her ankle still hurt, but putting weight on it wasn’t near as painful as the day before. Looking upward, Madeline noted the dark, heavy rain clouds that hung low in the sky and sighed. The thought of more rain did nothing to improve her already depressed spirits. The roads had been bad enough yesterday. With more rain, they may become impassible to any chance for an early rescue. It would be some time yet before the next manned station would worry enough to mount a search for the missing stage. The more rain that fell in the interim would make a search less likely.
Concentrating on her morning needs instead of the weather, Madeline went about her business and began looking for some way to get a fire started. The thought of cold beans and beef jerky didn’t sound very appealing to her already unsettled stomach. Mr. Barkley needed something warm and nourishing and Madeline was determined to prove herself capable of taking care of him, even out here in the middle of no man’s land. She spent the next hour rigging an overhang over the door using what was left of the canvas stage boot. It didn’t look like much, but it would keep the fire from going out when the rain came again. She also gathered as much wood as she could and placed it under the awning, hoping it would dry out a little and not get any wetter. Madeline was unfamiliar with the ways of the west, but she was grateful to whoever packed the rations. Inside the ration box was not only food, but also a coffee pot, a pan, dishes and matches. Getting the fire started wasn’t as hard as she thought it would be and in no time at all she had coffee and broth warming.
Adding some wood to the fire, Madeline froze when she heard a soft moan. Realizing it was Jarrod, she crawled inside the stage. He lay motionless, his face white and clenched in pain. His eyes were glazed over and his breathing was strained, and there was no mistaking the amount of pain he was in. He turned his head when Madeline entered and she dropped down beside him, her concern shown clearly on her face. Jarrod attempted to talk but his throat was too dry and he coughed to clear it. The pain that followed was agonizing and he wrapped his good arm around his damaged ribs as he tried to catch his breath. He struggled to get enough air and panic began to set in. Seeing the terror creep into his face, Madeline urged, “You need to calm down and take slow breaths.”
Jarrod was trying not to panic from the lack of air and instead concentrated on following her advice. She continued to encourage his efforts, “That’s it. Slow breaths. Try and relax.” He nodded weakly and closed his eyes as he took small breaths.
It was some time before he spoke hoarsely, “Water.”
Madeline got the canteen and lifted his head enough to allow him a drink, “Slowly Mr. Barkley. The last thing you need is to get sick.”
Jarrod took several small sips, the effort draining him. Laying his head back on the floor, he looked around the interior of the stage, suddenly remembering how he gotten here. Looking up at Madeline, he spoke sincerely, “Thank...you...for helping...me.”
Giving him a small smile, Madeline moved out of the stage as she spoke, “Do you think you could take some broth, Mr. Barkley? After you eat something I will give you some more laudanum. There isn’t much, but it might help for a little while.” Jarrod nodded but was surprised by the complete turnaround in the demeanor of the woman he’d spent days riding with. It must have showed in his face, for when Madeline returned she noticed his confusion and answered his unspoken question as she helped him with the broth. “I am not heartless Mr. Barkley. You needed help and I was the only one available.”
Jarrod inquired between sips, “Charlie?” He had to stop drinking the broth, afraid if he took anymore his sensitive stomach would rebel. He leaned back and waited for Madeline to answer him.
She shook her head sadly, “He didn’t make it.”
Jarrod closed his eyes and lay thinking of the man he’d come to know over the last week. He was like most drivers. Rough around the edges, but friendly to the travelers that rode his stage. Jarrod said a silent prayer for Charlie and thanked the powers that be that Miss Harcourt had a heart. He shifted on the floor and cried out at the pain, that slightest movement had caused. He closed his eyes tightly and clenched his fist against the agonizing pain. Miss Harcourt’s soft voice broke through his torment. “Take this Mr. Barkley, it will help.”
Jarrod opened his eyes and saw the spoonful of laudanum she held near his lips. He opened his mouth and took the medicine, hoping it would take affect soon. His face was covered in a sheen of perspiration and he sighed as Madeline wiped it away with a cool cloth. The pain eventually dropped to a dull throb and he opened his eyes to see Miss Harcourt watching him. He caught her eye and said sleepily, “Thank you.”
Taking the cloth, she folded it and let it rest on his forehead as she said tenderly, “Get some sleep Mr. Barkley.”
“Jarrod,” he corrected her, just before he drifted into a peaceful sleep.
*************
Jarrod woke in the early evening, groggy and sore. The screaming pain seemed to have dulled somewhat, leaving him with a throbbing ache along his entire left side. He knew his face must be swollen and he could only see out of his right eye, the left one being entirely swelled shut. For the first time since his crash to earth, he was able to survey his injuries with a semi-clear head. He lay with his eyes closed carefully testing his muscles. Every movement brought renewed pain but he found that he could move everything despite the pain. His arm seemed to be the only thing actually broken, with maybe the exception of a few ribs. It hurt to take any substantial breaths, but Miss Harcourt’s wrappings seemed to have helped alleviate some of the sharp pain associated with breathing.
As he tried to move the pain increased, but nature was making increasingly persistent demands on him. He needed to get outside and wasn’t real sure he could make the journey, but was too embarrassed to ask for help about such a delicate matter. Jarrod lifted up on his right elbow and inhaled sharply at the sudden onslaught of pain. He blinked rapidly and could feel the sweat trickling down his face as he struggled to sit up. His whole left side resisted moving but clenching his teeth, Jarrod was finally sitting up. Leaning heavily on his right hand, he tried to inch towards the door, but found his progress painstakingly slow. The sweat was running into his eyes, stinging them and making it difficult to see. So concentrated on making it to the door, he startled when Madeline made her presence known.
Her voice full of alarm, Madeline chastised him as she rushed to his aid, “What do you think you are doing? You are in no condition to be moving around.”
Despite the pain, Jarrod felt his face redden and he stuttered a response, “I need to...uh...go...outside.”
Madeline wrapped her arm around his back to help support him. She felt him trembling from his efforts and insisted, “You need to lie back down, Mr. Barkley.” She grasped his arm and tried to lift it from the floor, hoping to unbalance him enough to make him give into her demands.
Jarrod pulled from her grasp and looked at her sharply, angry with her for treating him like a child. Gritting his teeth, he emphasized firmly, “I need to go outside.” The two of them stared at each other, neither willing to back down. Jarrod glared at her and saw the precise moment when she realized what his problem was. Surprise graced her face for a fraction of a second, but Jarrod had to give her credit, she recovered quickly. Moving closer to help support him, Madeline spoke only briefly, trying to minimize his embarrassment, “Just to the door Mr. Barkley.”
Jarrod tried to concentrate on getting to the door rather than what he was going to do once he got there. Madeline’s limited experience at nursing had desensitized her to some degree, but she was doing the same thing as Jarrod. Trying not to think about it.
After a lot of effort on Jarrod’s part he sat at the edge of the door, panting from the pain and exertion. Madeline allowed him time to recover before she asked him hesitantly, “Do you need me to help?” Jarrod was shocked by her question, but he heard the compassion in her voice and knew, despite his embarrassment, that he was in no condition to do this on his own.
With a sigh of resignation he spoke awkwardly, “Can you help me stand...please?”
Jarrod was thankful she remained silent and simply positioned herself so she could help him. Jarrod draped his good arm across her shoulders and took as deep a breath as he dared then getting his good leg under him, tried to shift his weight upward. Madeline rose at the same time Jarrod stood and he leaned heavily into her. His whole frame shook and his face paled as he stood with his eyes tightly closed against the pain.
“Are you okay?” Madeline asked with concern. Jarrod stood with his head down, and nodded once, but she wasn’t convinced. He swayed a bit and his whole body was soaked in perspiration as he struggled to calm his breathing. Madeline was suddenly very worried he would collapse and she wouldn’t he able to support him. Leaning in closer, she tried to take more of his weight while he fought to remain upright. “Take your time and then we’ll move.” She spoke with such compassion, that Jarrod let her take more of his weight, thankful for the added support.
It was only a few moments before Jarrod felt the dizziness subside and he felt comfortable enough to release his hold on her. Leaning into the door jam, instead of her, Jarrod fumbled with the button on his pants, while Madeline discreetly looked away. Madeline returned her attention to Jarrod when she heard a loud sigh of frustration. He stood heavily against the wall, his good hand hanging limply at his side, and his head hung down in humiliation. With only one hand he was simply unable to work the buttons on his pants. Jarrod watched as Mr. Harcourt reached across and deftly unbuttoned the necessary buttons then turn away, allowing him privacy. She stayed close, unwilling to give up her caretaker status.
Jarrod was so relieved to finally get some relief he was able to forget the intimacy of what she had just done for him. The job done, the strain of standing was becoming too much and he was fearful he would fall if he didn’t get off his feet. Madeline helped him over to his ‘bed’ and got him settled. Pain was his only companion at this point and he was oblivious to much else. Without a word, she buttoned his pants, covered him with a blanket and had him take some more laudanum. Wiping his face with a cool rag, she patted his shoulder gently, “Get some sleep.” Still slightly embarrassed by the whole ordeal, Jarrod could only nod. Just before he drifted off, he wondered just what type of woman the real Miss Harcourt was and he found himself feeling guilty for the way he’d treated her earlier in their journey. He made a mental note to apologize the next time he woke up.
Chapter
Six
The rain came all day and all night, making everything around them a soggy mess. There was standing water everywhere, and Madeline felt as though she would never be dry again. The more it rained the more depressed she became. When the next day came and still the rain fell, Madeline knew that they would likely be stuck here for some time yet. Food was going to be a problem real soon. Jarrod wasn’t eating much, just some broth whenever he woke. Madeline was adamant he eat, and Jarrod didn’t have the strength to offer much resistance. He spent most of the time in a drug induced sleep. That would no longer be an option, since he’d used the last of the laudanum sometime in the middle of the night.
Madeline got a fire going and put some water on to boil, hoping Mr. Barkley might be able to take something more substantial than broth today. The water boiled and Madeline threw in some beans and went in search of something to season them with. All that time sneaking to the botanical gardens in search of knowledge might finally pay off. How her father hated for her to learn anything that wasn’t proper for a young lady. At the age of ten she didn’t understand that it wasn’t considered ladylike to want to learn about plants and animals. When her father finally realized what she was doing, he sat her down for a long talk about why men didn’t like a woman to be too educated. She listened and nodded but it didn’t really sink in. She just made sure her father never found out about her trips to the garden, the zoo, and god forbid, the library. Her insatiable curiosity and her father’s propriety were not an easy mixture, so Madeline decided quite young that what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. As she grew older and more independent, she finally realized what her father had meant, but by that time it didn’t matter to Madeline. She was content with her lot in life and found it easier to dissuade men away from her rather than have them try to mold her into the perfect woman.
The morning brought a small break in the clouds and Madeline hurried to find something for the beans before the rain started again. In no time at all she found some peppergrass, and then on the way back to camp stumbled across some wild onions. Both would improve the flavor of the trail beans. Happy with her finds, Madeline prepared both and dropped them in the pot of simmering beans. Checking on Jarrod first, Madeline cleaned herself up with some hot water and then poured a cup of coffee, thankful for the hot brew on such a damp morning.
Madeline was startled from her thoughts by Jarrod’s restlessness inside the stage. Once inside she could see he was in pain and sympathized with him. With no laudanum there was little she could do. He lay on his back, his good arm thrown over his face trying to hide the agony he was in. His right knee lifted and lowered repeatedly as he struggled to find a comfortable position. Madeline knelt beside him and spoke with concern, “Where does it hurt Mr. Barkley?”
Jarrod stilled, aware now that he had company. He was suffering and it was evident in his voice as he gasped, “My hip...”
Madeline lightly touched his shoulder to get his attention and spoke, “I’ll be right back.” Rummaging through her bag, she found a garment and ripped a large piece of flannel from it then stepped outside. In no time at all she returned and knelt at Jarrod’s side once again, “I’m going to roll you onto your good side. It’s going to hurt a bit, but it will take some pressure off that hip.” Jarrod nodded, and readied himself. Madeline reached her hands under his back and said, “Ready?”
“Uh huh,” muttered Jarrod through tight lips. His face clenched in pain, he cried out involuntarily as Madeline rolled him onto his right side. Everything screamed at the change in position and Jarrod forced himself to relax against the pain. Lying on his side seemed to help overall, but his left hip felt no better in this position than it had when he was lying flat on his back. He bit his lip and buried his face in his arm, anything to take his mind off the agony. He jumped when he felt a weight on his hip, then found himself sighing as a warmness crept into the area. His eyes closed, he felt the cool compress being lifted only to be replaced by another hot one. The pain was lessening and he finally allowed himself to completely relax.
“Does that feel better?” asked Madeline.
Jarrod whispered a heartfelt response, “Thank you.”
“Do you think you could eat something?”
Lifting his head he looked at her, with clear blue eyes, “I’ll try.”
Madeline smiled, “Good.” Easing herself up she added cheerfully, “I’ll be right back.”
She returned shortly, bringing a plate of beans with her. Setting it down, she helped him sit up. Madeline patiently waited for him to recover before setting the plate in his lap. It was difficult to eat and keep his balance but it was better than being spoon fed. Jarrod didn’t realize how hungry he was until he began eating. Halfway through he stopped and complimented Madeline, “These are very good.”
Madeline sat eating her own beans and had to swallow before she responded, “Thank you. I didn’t have much to work with out here.”
Jarrod took another bit and frowned, “I taste onion. Where did you find onions?”
Motioning outside with her spoon, she said, “I found some wild onions and some peppergrass. I figured anything would be better than eating plain beans.”
Jarrod grinned as he told her, “Good point. You are lucky you didn’t have to eat my beans.”
Madeline chuckled and continued eating. She kept Jarrod talking, hoping he wouldn’t realize he was eating. As his plate emptied she could see fatigue begin to set in. Taking his plate she helped him lie down and asked, “Do you want to try lying on your side?”
“If you can help me roll over, it did feel better.” Jarrod waited for her hands to reach under him and tried to help, but it was hard to flex the needed muscles without the added pain. He finally just let her take over and soon he was shifted onto his right side. Grimacing from the sudden pain that moving brought on, he closed his eyes tight and willed himself to relax. His breathing began to ease and it wasn’t long before he drifted into an exhausted sleep.
Madeline watched over him as he slept for several moments before gathering their plates and moving outside to clean them. Several times that day Jarrod woke in pain and Madeline was there each time with the hot compresses. It was the only thing she could think of to ease his pain now that the laudanum was gone. Between sessions she spent time writing in her journal and making small sketches of the local fauna. It killed time and took her mind off of the whole miserable situation. Looking out from her small shelter she watched the rain continue to fall and wondered if they’d even been reported missing yet.
Jarrod woke again near suppertime and after another round of hot compresses his hip felt better. Madeline made him eat more beans and he finished off supper with a hot cup of coffee. Leaning against the wall, it felt good to sit up for awhile. He couldn’t believe how much time he’d spent sleeping in the last three days and was starting to feel a little better each time he woke. If his hip didn’t hurt so bad every time he woke he would have been a little more inclined to get up and try moving around a bit. As it was, the few feet he’d scooted to sit against the wall was painful enough to remind him that he still needed time to heal.
Madeline was happy to see her patient looking more alert and relaxed. She watched him eat and suddenly realized she knew very little about the man she’d spent days taking care of. Setting down her plate she began questioning him, “So Mr. Barkley what do you do?”
Jarrod frowned at her question and asked, “Do?”
“For a living. What kind of job do you have?”
“I’m a lawyer.”
Jarrod smiled when Madeline eyed him curiously, “A lawyer? You don’t look like a lawyer.”
Looking down and his own bedraggled form, he chuckled, “Well, I usually dress up when I’m in court.”
Embarrassed, she tried to backpedal, “I just thought with the way you were dressed and the gun belt you were a cowboy or something.”
Letting her off the hook, Jarrod explained. “I like to travel in something more comfortable than a suit. As for the gun...this is untamed country out here. More often than not I wear a gun when I’m not actually in the courtroom.”
“Where are you from Mr. Barkley?”
“My family is from Stockton, but I live in San Francisco.”
Madeline brightened and exclaimed, “Really, I’m actually headed for San Francisco.”
“What brings you out west Miss Harcourt?” Jarrod kept his tone neutral, hoping she wouldn’t be put off by his questions.
Shrugging her shoulders, Madeline answered noncommittally, “Just a new start I guess.” Changing the subject, she asked, “Do you have a big family Mr. Barkley?”
Jarrod didn’t miss her redirection in the conversation, but decided not to push the issue, “It’s Jarrod. I have my mother, three younger brothers and a younger sister.”
Madeline looked surprised, “Really! I can’t imagine having a brother or sister.”
Her responses were making it hard for Jarrod not to lead her into telling him more, but he bit his tongue and elaborated, “Nick runs the ranch with my other brother Heath. Eugene was going to college at Berkley and my sister Audra helps out at the local orphanage when she’s not planning some big social event.” Madeline watched him as he spoke of his family and noticed the way he seemed to come alive as he described them. “Nick is loud and boisterous and often says what’s on his mind, but a more caring individual you will never meet. He feels strongly about family and will do anything to protect them. His wife Dora is just as strong-willed and the two of them make for some pretty lively conversation sometimes. They have a little girl, Lacy. She is the spitting image of her father, and they accuse me of spoiling her, which I deny of course.” Jarrod was happy to see that Miss Harcourt did know how to laugh and he continued. “My brother Heath is the opposite of Nick, in that he is sometimes too quiet. He gives as good as he gets though, and Nick is often on the receiving end of brother Heath’s quick wit. Mealtimes are seldom boring when the two of them begin bantering back and forth.”
Leaning back, Jarrod closed his eyes for a second, wishing he could be with his brothers instead of being stuck where he was. Not that the company was unpleasant, he would just rather be home. Madeline noticed the sudden change in Jarrod’s demeanor and decided it best to keep the conversation going, “And Eugene...what is he like?”
Jarrod opened his eyes and tilted his head in thought, “Eugene is growing into a fine young man. He spent his earlier years in college going from one thing to another before he finally settled on becoming a doctor. He is doing his residency out east now. I suspect we will see less and less of him, when he finishes. He likes it out in Boston and I think he has met a young lady that will keep him there when his residency finishes.”
“And Audra?”
Chuckling, Jarrod answered, “Audra is...Audra. I suppose all of us are to blame for spoiling her so, but she was the youngest and we all looked after her. She is a social butterfly, but is very conscientious about helping others. She is drawn to the underdog and spends a lot of her free time helping those less fortunate. Right now she is out east visiting Eugene and probably buying everything in sight.” Jarrod laughed at the thought. Madeline smiled at his description and he added, “Mother keeps a firm hand on Audra, but I fear it won’t be long before she too leaves the nest.”
Madeline thought how wonderful it would be to have such a loving family as the one he was describing and she told him, “It must be something to have such a big family.”
Jarrod couldn’t stop the lawyer in him this time and asked hesitantly, “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“No. I am an only child. It was just me and my father,” said Madeline. Jarrod chose to keep silent, hoping she would elaborate and she did. “My mother died when I was very young, so I had a freedom a lot of girls my age didn’t.” Madeline laughed, “My father hated that he couldn’t keep an eye on me all the time.”
Jarrod chuckled, and Madeline explained. “I wasn’t a bad child. In fact I was very well behaved and well mannered. I had to be. My father was a prominent doctor and he was a stickler for propriety. He was always preaching what good ladies do. The only problem was that his ideas and mine didn’t always see eye to eye.”
Madeline saw Jarrod’s curious look and she smiled, “My father didn’t think that women should be educated. In order for a woman to ever have any chance at a man she had to be meek and appear...unintelligent.” Even Jarrod’s skills at remaining expressionless couldn’t stop his look of shock.
Madeline was surprised by his reaction and asked, “Does that kind of attitude surprise you Mr. Barkley?”
“As a matter of fact it does. I know men that feel that way but I personally have never understood it.”
“Men tend to feel threatened if they think a woman is intelligent Mr. Barkley.”
Jarrod looked at her and said, “Well I’m sure that is the case more often then not Miss Harcourt, but there are men that would welcome an intelligent woman in their lives.”
Madeline actually laughed, “I haven’t actually met one so I wouldn’t know. My father lectured me for years on the subject and I had to sneak around him to simply appease my curiosity about things.” Her voice dropped and she said almost sadly, “He wouldn’t even allow me to read books.” Madeline wasn’t sure why she was telling him all this, maybe because he was the first person she’d met that didn’t feel as her father had.
“And yet you learned things despite all that.”
“I got very good at doing what I wanted and not letting my father know. He was a doctor and had to be gone a lot. My nanny was easy to manipulate and I learned early on how to get around her. I spent my days going places and learning anything and everything. My curiosity was insatiable and I always worried that I would get caught and it would all end. I crammed as much information as I could into the time I was allowed.”
“So your father being a doctor is where you learned how to help me.”
Madeline shook her head, “No. My father would never have allowed that. Ladies don’t work Mr. Barkley.” Jarrod noted her sarcasm and let her continue, “I volunteered at a hospital under a different name. It was a hospital I thought my father never frequented and he didn’t...for about six months. When he found out I’d been working there, I thought he might die of embarrassment. It was months before I worked up the courage to defy him again.” Madeline watched Jarrod’s amusement and added, “Don’t get me wrong Mr. Barkley, my father was a good man. He just had antiquated ideas on how a young lady should be raised. Despite everything, I did learn how to be a lady. I can set a fine table and socialize with the best of them.”
Jarrod smiled at the way she seemed to play down her standing in society. It was easier to see that side of her on those first few days on the stage, but the last few days had given him a different view of her. She was very down to earth and yes...very intelligent. She spoke with such animation that it was hard to believe he was talking to the same woman. As badly as he would have liked to continue their conversation, his hip was hurting again and he felt his eyes getting heavier and heavier.
Madeline saw him grimace when he shifted and she chastised herself for not being more considerate, “I’m sorry Mr. Barkley for carrying on so and here you are about to fall asleep on me.”
Jarrod let her help him lie down and he looked up at her as she got him settled, “Don’t you think you could call me Jarrod?”
Madeline shook her head, “It would go against my social upbringing Mr. Barkley. You see a lady never addresses a man by his given name.” Her tone left Jarrod wondering if she was playing or being sincere.
Jarrod answered sleepily, “Point taken, Miss Harcourt.”
“Get some sleep Mr. Barkley, I will be back in a minute with a compress for that hip.”
Closing his eyes, he winced as he spoke, “Thank you for being just who you are Miss Harcourt.”
Unused to such a compliment, Madeline stared at him for a brief moment, then quickly left so he wouldn’t see the moisture that gathered in her eyes.
Chapter
Seven
Nick rushed in the house and hollered, “MOTHER! HEATH!” Throwing his hat on the foyer table he stopped at the bottom of the stairs and was fixing to yell again when his mother interrupted him.
“Must you yell Nick?” Victoria chastised, knowing of course that Nick could no more stop yelling than he could stop breathing.
Nick turned towards his mother and held out the telegram in his gloved hand. “Jarrod’s stage is missing.” His solemn voice spoke of his concern for his older brother.
Victoria paled and her expression was one of shock as she spoke worriedly, “What do you mean missing?”
“James sent us this telegram saying Jarrod hasn’t returned from Yuma. He should have been back two days ago. I checked the stage line and they say they have a missing stage but the rain is keeping them from doing a search. The whole area is flooded and the roads are impassable.”
Nick watched his mother as he related the news. Her usually stoic nature gave way to concern for her oldest child. “What about Jarrod?”
Pulling her into his embrace, Nick spoke softly, “Don’t worry Mother. I’m taking Heath and we’re gonna head down that way and see what we can find out. It may not be passable to a wagon or stage but hopefully it’s not so bad we can’t make it on horseback. We’ll find him.”
Victoria let Nick comfort her for a moment before she decided on her own course of action, “I’ll go to San Francisco and see how Marilyn is doing. She is probably worried sick.”
“I’m sure she is Mother. James sent the telegram so she is probably out of her head with worry.”
Patting Nick’s chest, Victoria’s voice wavered a bit as she spoke, “I’ll go pack and you find Heath. I’ll be ready to leave whenever you are.”
Nick leaned down and kissed her forehead, “We’ll find him Mother. I promise.”
“I know you will, Son.”
********************************************
Victoria arrived in San Francisco later that evening having telegrammed ahead to announce her plans and let James know when she would be arriving. Nick and Heath were headed south to see if they could find out anything more about where Jarrod was. She hoped that the stage had bogged down somewhere and they were simply stranded, waiting for a break in the weather. It was decided that Victoria would try and talk Marilyn into returning to Stockton with her, so they could await any news there, thinking if Jarrod were in fact hurt it would be easier to care for him with the family around.
Victoria entered Jarrod’s home and was met by James, “Evenin’ Mrs. Barkley.”
Surrendering her bags, she returned the greeting, “Good evening James.” Victoria scanned the room and her eyes glanced up the staircase, “How is Marilyn doing?”
James hesitated just a brief second before answering, “She be asleep right now, ma’am.” He had informed Mrs. Jarrod that Mrs. Barkley would be arriving and he hoped she would at least make some attempt to make a good impression. Her only response had been to tell him she was going to bed. He felt awkward not knowing what to say to Mrs. Barkley and apprehensive about what Mrs. Jarrod would do when she woke in the morning. James decided the best course of action would be not to say anything but try to play interference for Mrs. Jarrod if the situation warranted it.
James addressed Victoria again, “I shows ya to your room, ma’am.”
“I know the way James. Could you bring me some tea? I think I’ll retire soon myself.”
“Yes, ma’am.” James bowed his head and left Victoria to find her way upstairs. He hated to think what tomorrow would bring.
************************
It was late in the evening and the dark night was punctuated with bright flashes of lightening and deafening thunder. The rain was pouring down, making the small confines of the stage seem claustrophobic. Both Jarrod and Madeline were startled by a lightening bolt that was close enough to illuminate the inside of the stage and the subsequent clap of thunder. Jarrod’s eyes were just quick enough to catch Madeline’s cowering form as she tried to make herself smaller in the corner near the door.
Leaning up on one elbow he asked worriedly, “Are you okay?” With no light to see, Jarrod had to rely on his sense of hearing to detect any disturbances in her voice so he listened intently for her answer.
Madeline stuttered slightly. “I’m fine.” She recovered quickly and sounded more in control as she assured him, “That one was just a little too close. I’m not normally bothered by thunderstorms, but then, I’m usually not so up close and personal with them.”
Jarrod smiled at her expression, “Do you want to talk for awhile? Sleep doesn’t seem to be an option right now.” As if on cue another streak of lightening flashed and the thunder shook the ground.
Chuckling, Madeline replied, “Talk is good!”
Trying to sit up, Jarrod grunted at the renewed pain in his hip and Madeline questioned him immediately, “Are you okay? Would you like a hot compress?”
“No. It just hurts when I move wrong. It’ll be fine in a minute.”
Madeline was already moving towards the door as she asked, “Are you sure? I can throw some wood on the coals and have some hot water in a few minutes.”
Jarrod bit back another groan as he made his way into a sitting position, not wanting to alert Miss Harcourt to the amount of pain he was in. “Thank you for the offer, but it’s feeling better already.” As good as it sounded, he couldn’t see anyone having to go out in this weather, even with the covered awning. He figured he’d be fine as long as he didn’t move too much. Looking towards the door, where he assumed she was sitting, Jarrod posed a question, “So...what do you plan on doing when you get to San Francisco?” Two days ago he never would have asked her such a straightforward question, but they had talked off and on since then and he no longer found her so reserved with her answers.
“I haven’t thought that far ahead. I’m hoping to find a job eventually.”
“What exactly are you looking for?”
Madeline shrugged in the darkness, “I don’t know...nursing perhaps. I enjoyed that when I was doing it. A librarian maybe.” She laughed, “They would probably end up firing me though. I doubt they want their employees reading all day.”
Jarrod grinned at the thought, and sobered as he asked her hesitantly, “What would you say if I offered you a nursing job?”
Frowning, Madeline drew out her response as if she were wary of his answer, “What do you mean?”
For several seconds the only sound that could be heard was the heavy pounding of rain on the rooftop while Jarrod tried to come up with a way to tell her about Marilyn. With a heavy sigh, he began to speak, “Do you wonder why I haven’t told you much about my wife, Miss Harcourt?”
“Well...I figured you had your reasons. Is she the reason you want to hire a nurse?”
“Very perceptive of you.” His tone was slightly condescending and he realized it immediately. “I apologize for that. You didn’t deserve that. I just have a difficult time talking about this. Up until this point, I’ve told no one of the problem.”
Madeline was very interested in what he had to say, but didn’t want to appear overly curious. Her manners were better than that. She thought about the man she’d gotten to know over the last few days and understood just how difficult it would be for him to tell her something so private. Another flash of lightening lit up the stage and she could see he had his leg drawn up with his hand resting on his knee. His face looked sad in the brief moment she saw him and her curiosity turned to compassion. He was obviously struggling to find a way to tell her about his wife. Madeline took the initiative and said sympathetically, “Perhaps if you start at the beginning Mr. Barkley.”
With another sigh, Jarrod began to relate the story to her, “A little over six months ago, my wife lost our first born in childbirth.” Madeline gasped at this news and Jarrod paused to compose himself. Just telling someone about it still brought the sadness that was associated with all that he had lost in that moment. “If that wasn’t bad enough, my wife was told that she would never carry another child. She was devastated by the news and I tried everything to console her. Nothing I did seemed to help. I thought if I gave her time she would get over the loss. If anything, time has only made the situation worse.” Jarrod stopped and Madeline waited patiently for him to continue, knowing he would tell her more when he was ready.
“She began drinking. At first it was just occasionally and she seemed calmer, so I thought she was beginning to heal. I didn’t realize that her occasional drinks had turned to excessiveness until I came home one day and found her drunk. I guess I thought that it was her way of dealing with the loss and she would eventually come around. When that didn’t seem to be the case, I locked up the alcohol and finally had it removed from the house. Nothing I did or said made a difference and she began to blame me for everything that had gone wrong.” Jarrod was glad that it was too dark for Miss Harcourt to see him as he spoke. It somehow made it easier to talk when he didn’t have to see her reactions to his words and he continued, “I’m not saying I’m blameless. I should have done something sooner maybe, before things got out of hand.”
“Got out of hand?”
“Her drinking became commonplace and I seldom saw her sober. I tried to talk to her. I even suggested we go for help but nothing seemed to work. Our talks usually consisted of false accusations and on more recent occasions she has become violent.”
“Violent, Mr. Barkley?”
Jarrod’s voice dropped and he admitted reluctantly, “She has attacked me on numerous occasions when the conversation didn’t go the way she wanted. Just before I left on this trip she attacked me with a fireplace poker. It required several stitches.”
Madeline spoke up, her own voice seemed sad as she stated, “The wound on the back of your head?”
Nodding solemnly, he answered, “Yes. I don’t want to leave my wife Miss Harcourt, but I would be less than honest if I didn’t say I was afraid to go home at night. I spent the whole way out here trying to decide what to do and I guess I thought if I hired a full time nurse she would have someone to care for her.”
Digesting the information, Madeline thought about the situation, then asked Jarrod what concerned her most, “Is she dangerous Mr. Barkley?”
Shaking his head in the dark, he said wistfully, “Only to me Miss Harcourt. My house servant assures me that she is most docile when I am not around.”
Madeline was surprised by this and wondered out loud, “So you don’t plan on going back to her?”
Jarrod became defensive, “I won’t divorce my wife if that is what you are asking. I think that she needs more time to come to terms with everything. I thought that maybe by hiring a nurse, she might have someone beside myself to talk to since I only seem to antagonize her. I can live somewhere else in the interim and hope that she comes around.”
“You still love her?” It wasn’t really a question, more of an observation and Madeline was surprised when Jarrod answered.
“I don’t know anymore. She is certainly not the woman I married. Marilyn harbors a deep seated hatred for me and I have a hard time reconciling with that. I don’t wish to appear heartless, but I no longer even see her as someone I want to be around if she can turn on me so easily.”
Jarrod’s voice spoke of sadness and bitterness at his wife’s condition. It was obvious to Madeline that here sat a man that had done everything possible to support his wife and she had returned his love with hatred and contempt. Admittedly, she was only getting one side of the story, but his concern for his wife seemed sincere despite how she had treated him. “Can I ask you something Mr. Barkley?”
“Um uh.” Jarrod seemed drained by his admission and Madeline was suddenly seemed unsure of herself. He noticed her silence and insisted politely, “Go ahead, Miss Harcourt. You can’t ask me anything I haven’t already asked myself?”
“Why didn’t you stop her from hurting you?”
Jarrod laughed, but it wasn’t a good laugh, “How Miss Harcourt? Beat her into submission.”
Madeline got very quiet as she said, “Some men would, Mr. Barkley.”
“I was raised not to hit women, Miss Harcourt, even if she does strike first. She is still my wife and I don’t wish her any harm, despite all she has done. Do you want the job or shall I keep looking?”
“Do you want me to take the job?”
“Yes I do.” Jarrod paused and then said sincerely, “I think you have the tenacity to put up with her and yet show her the compassion that might be her saving grace.”
“Then I will take the...”
Jarrod suddenly sat up straighter and hissed, “Shh...”
Madeline nervously looked all around her for whatever had alerted him but could see or hear nothing.
“Don’t move,” whispered Jarrod.
*************************
Chapter
Eight
As Jarrod spoke, Madeline suddenly heard a noise at the door. Her heart raced at the unknown and the hair on the back of her neck seemed to alert her to the danger that lurked close by. Jarrod seemed to be fumbling for something as Madeline sat stone still, trying to keep her fear from overtaking her. She wanted to ask Mr. Barkley what was happening, but her own terror kept her speechless. In that moment, lightening lit up the night and Madeline saw what had Jarrod so nervous.
Outside the door, not inches from Madeline’s outstretched legs, stood a large grey wolf. Reflex overruled Jarrod’s advice not to move and she drew her legs up and away from the threatening menace at her feet. In retrospect, she would have to admit it was a stupid thing to do, but fear dictated her actions at that particular moment. The moment her leg moved, the animal snarled and growled and Madeline froze again, but it was too late for that. In the next instant, the beast grabbed her ankle in its powerful jaws and Madeline screamed.
Ignoring his own pain, Jarrod reacted instantly and moved closer to the door, his gun at ready. He felt for Madeline’s writhing form on the floor and made sure she was down before he aimed and shot the wolf at close range. Not knowing if it was a killing shot, he was grateful when he heard the yelps of the injured animal as it scampered off into the night. Slipping the gun into his pants he asked Madeline anxiously, “Tell me where you’re hurt. I can’t see anything!”
“My ankle... He bit... my ankle,” cried Madeline, her voice was strained and shaky as she spoke.
“Okay...I’m just going to check it real quick and then I’m going to get the fire started so I can see better.” He gingerly reached out and was relieved when he quickly found her leg and was able to use his hands to find her injured ankle. It was bleeding, but not profusely so he remained calm, “Where are the rags you used for compresses?”
Madeline was crying from the pain and panic laced her voice as she sat up, grabbed Jarrod by the arm and pleaded frantically, “Don’t leave me!”
Covering the hand that grasped his arm, Jarrod tried to calm her, “It’s okay. I’m just going outside for a minute. I’ll be right back” He patted her hand and said gently, “I promise.” Releasing her hand, he swept his own hand across the floor, and found the cloth he was hoping for. Not wanting to startle Madeline any worse than she already was he held out the cloth and said softly, “Take this and hold it over your ankle. I don’t think he got you too badly, but we need to get it cleaned out.”
Madeline sniffled a few times, and tried to compose herself. She had never been so frightened in her life. Shocked at her reaction, she apologized meekly, “I’m sorry for falling apart like that.”
Jarrod smiled, thankful she seemed to have gotten over the initial shock. He was once again surprised by her tenacity. “There’s nothing to apologize for. It is a perfectly normal reaction. Besides, most women would still be hysterical so you’ve redeemed yourself.”
“Well that certainly makes me feel better.”
Smiling, Jarrod reassured her, “I’ll be right outside the door doing the fire and we’ll have that ankle cleaned up in no time.” Now that the danger was over, Jarrod was beginning to feel the effects of his quick actions. He had to bite his lip to stop the groan that threatened to escape as he moved to stand so he could get outside. He paused only briefly to let the dizziness pass before he stepped outside and lowered himself gingerly to the ground to start the fire. There were still a few coals beneath the ashes and he threw a few small sticks on to get the fire going. In no time at all, the fire gave off a comforting glow. The rain had diminished to a light drizzle and only a few distant lightening bolts danced across the sky. The air had a chill to it, no doubt made worse by the fact that he was sweating from his exertions. Jarrod hadn’t noticed the coolness inside the stage and he wished he’d thought to drape a shirt across his bare shoulders.
Madeline watched Jarrod by the light of the fire and was immediately contrite about not considering his injuries. He was moving slowly, his actions measured and she had no doubt he was in more pain. Her ankle burned from the bite, and it didn’t help that it was the one she’d twisted so painfully in the days before. Just today it had gotten to the point where she didn’t have to tread so carefully on it. It didn’t hurt so badly that she couldn’t at least help with tending to it. Shuffling across the floor, she found her bag and rummaged around, finally finding a bar of lilac soap. Scooting back to the door, she grabbed what was left of the medical supplies and pulled out a small bottle of liniment. As she sat waiting, Madeline removed the stocking covering her injured ankle and wiped away some of the blood with the damaged clothe. It appeared she’d been lucky, and only several puncture marks graced her ankle. No ragged cuts or heavy bleeding were a good sign.
Jarrod moved carefully into the stage and sat at Madeline’s feet so he could see how badly she’d been bitten. He too sighed in relief at how little damage had actually been done. Leaning out of the stage he lifted the pain of warm water inside and pulled the wet flannel out and began cleaning the area. Madeline flinched at his touch and he winced, “I’m sorry, but this needs to be cleaned.”
Madeline’s face was pale and she spoke through gritted teeth, “I know. There’s a bar of soap to help clean it. Liniment when you’re finished.” She pointed to the items she’d collected along with a couple scraps from her remaining petticoat. “Do what you have to do Mr. Barkley. Don’t mind me.”
Jarrod worked quickly, but Madeline’s other leg jiggled as he applied the liniment. She sucked in air through her teeth and hung her head down on her chest. He could tell she was crying and he grasped her foot in his hand to comfort her until the sting of the liniment went away. Her breathing returned to normal and she shyly wiped away the tears. Jarrod politely ignored the tears and started bandaging her ankle.
Madeline couldn’t help but notice that he had a gentle touch and his hands were smooth, like a doctor’s hands. Which made perfect sense if he were a lawyer. Madeline giggled when his hand brushed the bottom of her foot as he wrapped it neatly, which was a great feat considering he was working one handed.
Frowning, Jarrod looked at her and asked, “What is so funny?”
Madeline lifted one hand off the floor, while supporting herself with the other and waved off his question, “I’m ticklish is all.”
“Well, I’m glad you can find something to laugh about through all this,” grinned Jarrod. “You continue to amaze me.”
Blushing, Madeline dropped her head to hide her embarrassment and Jarrod smiled. “Okay. You are all finished up. Tomorrow we’ll clean and change those bandages. For now I think it’s time to get some sleep.”
Jarrod began to scoot away and Madeline grabbed his arm, stopping his progress. He looked at her hand curiously, caught the concern in her eyes and frowned, “What?”
Raising her eyebrows she asked, “How bad is the pain?”
Surprised at first, his shoulders dropped wearily, “I just need to rest. I’ll be fine.” He tried to move, but again her hand impeded his progress. This time her voice was unyielding, “I’m going to heat some more water. Why don’t you get comfortable and I’ll do your hip again.”
Jarrod shook his head, “But you’re hurt.”
“I’ll live. You said yourself it wasn’t that bad.”
With a tight smile Jarrod responded, “Throwing my words back at me. I’m a lawyer remember. We could debate this for hours.”
Madeline refused to back down. “And you would still be in pain. You’ll never get to sleep with it hurting like that. I can be every bit as stubborn as you, Mr. Barkley.” To prove her point she reached out and lightly touched his hip, causing Jarrod to gasp at the pain. She shook her head at his stubbornness and demanded, “Lay down!”
Jarrod couldn’t deny the pain he was in and muttered, “Yes, ma’am.” He eased himself to the floor and let go of the breath he was holding. Truth be told, his hip was protesting sharply against his earlier activity and the thought of the hot compress was very appealing. When Madeline placed it on his hip he couldn’t stop a sigh from escaping.
“Humph. This from a man that was fine,” said Madeline sarcastically.
“Point taken, Miss Harcourt,” resigned Jarrod. She replaced the compress twice and Jarrod was grateful for her care and concern. It had been a long time since he’d felt...cared for.
Both of them settled in for the second time that night and Jarrod thought she had fallen asleep when her quiet voice broke the silence, “Mr. Barkley?”
“Hmmm.”
“Thank you.”
“No, Miss Harcourt. Thank you. I don’t deserve the excellent care I’ve received considering the way I treated you at Apache Flats.”
Madeline chuckled softly, “No. You gave as good as you got that day Mr. Barkley. I’m sorry for the way I treated you as well. I just...just didn’t know you then. I was so used to expecting the worse from men, I didn’t stop to think that not all men might not be like my father.” She paused and then added shyly, “I have you to thank for that. You’ve shown me nothing but kindness.”
He told her sincerely, “You make it very easy...once you let someone in.”
“No, Mr. Barkley. I’ve let others in and none have shown me the understanding and kindness that you have.” Jarrod heard the sadness in her voice and he reached out in the darkness and found her hand. He squeezed it lightly and remained silent.
Madeline felt the tears fall down her cheeks and she whispered with a broken voice, “Thank you.”
*****************************
Victoria sat in Jarrod’s parlor eating the breakfast James had fixed for her. As James filled her coffee, she asked, “Is Marilyn coming down for breakfast, James?”
James shrugged, “Don’t rightly know, ma’am.”
It was then that Marilyn swept into the room. James looked surprised but said nothing as he went to fetch her some breakfast. Victoria caught James wide-eyed look and wondered what it was about, when Marilyn interrupted her thoughts, “Good morning Mother. I’m sorry I missed you last night.” Tears formed in her eyes as she added, “I’ve just been so worried about Jarrod.”
Victoria rose to comfort her daughter-in-law and was shocked by the change since the last time she’d seen her almost six months ago. She’d lost a lot of weight and seemed to have aged considerably in that time. Marilyn no longer had the joyful gleam in her eye that Victoria had been drawn to on their first meeting. Her face was thin, and her clothes hung loosely on her bony frame. Marilyn’s whole demeanor seemed harder than Victoria remembered, and her words lacked a certain amount of sincerity, despite the tears. “How are you doing, dear?”
More tears came as Marilyn spoke, “Oh Mother, it’s been so hard. I didn’t even know he’d gone on this trip until James told me.” Her frame shook as she buried her head in her hands, “He left without even telling me where he was going, and now...he’s missing.”
“I’m sure Jarrod is just fine. The stage was simply held up by the weather and he’s stranded somewhere,” said Victoria, her response almost automatic. Still shocked by Marilyn’s admission, she began to wonder just what it was that she wasn’t being told. Marilyn was indeed upset, but Victoria could hardly believe that Jarrod would be so callous as to leave her without word of where he was going. It was obvious that the two of them were having some problems, and Jarrod’s reluctance to talk about it was typical of his private nature. Whatever was going on was taking a toll on both of them. Victoria remembered the joy she had felt when Jarrod first introduced Marilyn to her. The happy couple complimented each other so nicely that people found it hard to believe they had only just met. Only recently did one see Jarrod without Marilyn by his side. She’d always been his biggest supporter and they seemed the perfect couple, but something had changed all that. Victoria thought about the loss of their child and wondered if that wasn’t what started it all. Losing a child was a difficult thing. She remembered the strain on her and Tom’s marriage and she sympathized with the two of them. Perhaps all they needed was more time to come to terms with it. Everybody had their own way of dealing with such a loss.
Victoria sat with Marilyn as they ate breakfast, neither one saying much. When James cleared away the meal, Victoria finally spoke up, “Marilyn, why don’t you come back to the ranch with me. Nick promised to send a telegram as soon as he found something out.”
“I don’t know if I should leave. What if someone sends word and I’m not here?” whined Marilyn.
“I sure James can manage and forward any news that might come here.” Victoria was puzzled by Marilyn’s reluctance to go to the ranch. What she didn’t realized was that Marilyn wasn’t worried so much about not being home for any news, but more concerned about how where she would get her next drink if she was around Victoria all the time. In the same instant, Marilyn recalled the amount of liquor the Barkley’s kept on hand and her mouth began to water. The nasty cough medicine she’d been using to satisfy the need didn’t sit well, but it was better than nothing. The thought of going a day without made drinking the alcohol-laced medicine more than worth while.
Victoria could have sworn she saw Marilyn smile slightly before she answered sweetly, “I suppose it would be easier if we were both in one place. It’s been ages since I’ve been to the ranch. Maybe the change will do me some good.”
“You do look a little peaked, dear. We’ll have you feeling better in no time.”
Marilyn stood and leaned over, giving Victoria a small peck on the cheek, “Thank you Mother. I’ll go get packed so we can get back to Stockton.” She wasted no time excusing herself and practically rushed upstairs. Entering her room, she locked the door and sat down on the bed. Opening the drawer in her nightstand, she pulled out the bottle and shakily lifted it to her mouth, taking several swallows. She closed her eyes and let the strong elixir work its way through her system. It had taken a conscious effort this morning to remain sober for Victoria’s benefit. The last thing she expected was to have her show up, let alone be invited back to the ranch. Marilyn had hoped to convince Victoria she was fine and be done with her, but this was actually going to work to her advantage.
**********************************
Nick and Heath traveled by stage as far as they could, then had to rent a couple of horses. Once they were in the area of the heavy rainfall they could understand the reluctance of the stage line to mount a search. The roads were treacherous at best and some had literally been washed away. They loaded up with supplies at Souse Springs and headed out again. The rain continued off and on, and both horse and man were exhausted at the end of the day. They’d passed Moore’s Station earlier so they knew they were getting close. The light was fading and despite their desire to continue on, it was pointless and dangerous to try traveling at night. Reluctantly they made camp and spent a wet and miserable night wondering what they would find tomorrow.
Chapter
Nine
Madeline rose as the sky began to lighten and the sun still hung below the horizon. It was almost cold and she moved as quickly as her ankle would allow and got a fire started. Judging by the amount of coals still glowing hot, she hadn’t gotten as much sleep as she’d hoped for. Sitting near the fire, she removed the bandage Jarrod had placed the night before and cleaned the area with a warm, soapy water. It was tender to touch, but it looked a healthy pink and Madeline sighed in relief. The last thing they needed was for her to take ill. Bandaging it, she replaced her stocking, but left off her boot, knowing it would hurt too much to have it rubbing her ankle.
Getting some fresh water, she started some coffee. It was all that was left of their rations, but it would have to do for now. Maybe she could get out and see what she could find to eat, but she wasn’t too familiar with what was edible in this part of the country. Only those things she was sure of did she even dare consider. They could go days without food, and they had plenty of water so they were in no danger of dying.
Madeline got them both some coffee and was just about to go inside when she suddenly heard something off in the distance. She listened carefully, then threw down the coffee and hurried inside to wake Jarrod. Shaking him awake, she said excitedly, “Mr. Barkley, wake up. Someone’s coming!”
Jarrod sat up and said anxiously, “What?”
“Someone’s coming!”
Grabbing his shirt, Jarrod slipped his good arm in and draped the rest over his bad shoulder. Madeline helped him stand and he hobbled to the door. Stepping outside, he leaned against the stage as he spoke to Madeline, “Hand me my gun, then stay inside.”
“But they are coming to help. Why do you need your gun?” argued Madeline.
“Please, just do as I say!” Jarrod’s tone and angry glare sent Madeline scurrying for his gun.
She shyly handed him the gun and he briefly hung his head in shame for having yelled at her. “I’m sorry. I just want you to stay in the stage until we know it’s safe. Okay?”
Madeline nodded and he gently pushed her behind him so she was hidden inside the stage. He then said softly, “Stay quiet.” The sound of horses got closer and closer as the two of them waited impatiently to see who would appear.
Four horses and two riders, near as Jarrod could tell. They were still a ways off. In the quiet of the desert morning the sound of their arrival had traveled a long distance. Not used to standing for so long, Jarrod felt his leg trembling from bearing all his weight. Shifting some of it on to his bad leg, he wiped the perspiration that formed on his forehead. He watched as the riders suddenly spurred their horses and rushed towards the wrecked stage. The closer they got the more sure he was that he knew the two riders that approached. When they were within a hundred yards, he turned and spoke to Madeline. “You can come out now!”
“Is it safe?”
Jarrod chuckled, “Yes, my brothers have found us.”
“Your brothers? I thought you said they lived in Stockton.” Madeline was clearly puzzled as to why they would be the ones to show up and not the people from the stage line.
Smiling, Jarrod swelled with pride for his family, “They do. If anyone could get through, they could.”
Madeline was awestruck at such loyalty, something she was unfamiliar with. “Wow,” then added, “Do you think they brought something to eat?”
Caught up in the excitement of being rescued, Jarrod laughed out loud, wrapped his arm around Madeline’s shoulder and planted a light kiss on her temple, “I’m sure they’ll have plenty to eat, if I know my brothers.” He released her with a smile, and Madeline ducked her head to hide the red she was sure was showing on her face. Flustered by his action, Madeline stood speechless as Jarrod tried to limp towards the road. She recovered from his kiss and rushed to help him. Stepping up beside him, she lifted his arm and moved underneath to support his weight.
Jarrod sighed, thankful for the assistance. “Thank you again, Miss Harcourt.”
Nick and Heath reined their horses as they approached the pair. Jarrod saw the look of shock on their faces, turned and asked Madeline, “Do I look that bad?”
Madeline shrugged and said light-heartedly, “I guess I’ve gotten used to it. You do look a little worse for wear.” Looking at him closely, she could see why his brothers were alarmed. Besides the obvious problem standing, his broken arm was now strapped securely to his chest, instead of being in a sling. With his shoulder as sore as it was, they’d wrapped his arm against his chest to keep the whole area restrained. It was awkward, but it did help relieve the pain in his shoulder. The most visible damage was the bruising on the left side of his face. Time had done little to improve the myriad of bruising that now ranged from green to purple. His eye had lost some of the swelling and he could see out of it, but it still looked pretty ghastly. She’d helped him shave yesterday, but already he sported a shadow. Where his shirt hung open, dark bruising peeked out of the rib strapping from chest to waist. She knew from her initial examination that it ran down most of his leg.
Both men dismounted and rushed in for a closer look. Nick took Jarrod’s chin in his hand and turned his face so he could access the damage. He whistled and said, “You look like hell, big brother.”
“Thanks Nick. Nice seeing you again too.”
Madeline backed off, leaving the three brothers a chance to reunite. Despite the teasing remark, she could see the concern on their faces. She watched as Nick pulled Jarrod into a tender embrace, the love between brothers clearly written in both men’s eyes. Heath greeted Jarrod with the same look and a lop-sided grin as he quickly took the place that Madeline had abandoned. “Ya look like you been ridin’ a bronc that didn’t want to be broke, big brother.”
“Truer words were never spoken, Heath,” chuckled Jarrod. He caught Madeline’s eye and he beckoned her back to the group, “Gentlemen, I want to introduce my savior.” He looked at her and then Nick and Heath. “Miss Harcourt, my brother’s Nick and Heath.”
Both men removed their hats and said together, “Ma’am.”
Madeline was taken by their politeness and returned the gesture, “It’s nice to meet you both. I’ve heard a lot about you.” They both looked at Jarrod with a somewhat worried expression and Madeline smiled, “Nothing but good things, I assure you.”
Nick was about to make a comment when Heath felt Jarrod leaning more heavily into him, and he interrupted, “Nick, I don’t think standin’ out here jawin’ is doin’ Jarrod here any good. Let’s get him settled, ‘fore you start tellin’ tall tales.”
This was the most exercise Jarrod had gotten since the crash and it was taking its toll on his battered frame. Nick quickly moved to Jarrod’s other side and grabbed his waistband as the two of them all but carried him back to the stage. Jarrod apologized to both of them as they settled him back in bed, “Sorry. I haven’t been up to walking the last few days. I guess it took more out of me than I expected.”
“Don’t you worry none, Jarrod. We’re just glad to see you safe.” Nick squeezed his shoulder and made his way back outside. Heath rested his hand lightly on Jarrod’s chest, and Jarrod could read the concern in his brother’s blue eyes. Reaching up Jarrod patted his hand and smiled.
Heath returned the smile, “Get ya some sleep big brother, while we figure out some way to get you outta here,”
“Heath?” whispered Jarrod. Heath stopped before ducking out the door
He moved back to Jarrod’s side and asked in his own quiet voice, “Yeah?”
“You might want to fix some breakfast. I know Miss Harcourt hasn’t eaten since yesterday.”
Heath was touched by Jarrod’s concern for the woman who’d helped him. He’d obviously learned enough about her to know she would never mention it and Heath gave him a lop-sided grin, “Consider it done, big brother. I’ll see that you get a plate.”
Jarrod was already drifting off as he muttered, “Sounds good.”
***************************
The next morning started off with a good breakfast and in no time they were packed up and ready to go. The rain had finally stopped some time in the middle of the night and for the first time in over a week, the sky was clear and bright. Nick and Heath had spent most of the day before rigging a comfortable travois for Jarrod. Madeline had explained that riding a horse would be out of the question with his hip. Both brothers gave Jarrod a thorough examination after Madeline told them what had happened. Nick and Heath were shocked as Madeline related his fall and subsequent injuries, suddenly very thankful for his luck and her assistance. Madeline gave Jarrod’s care over to his brothers, knowing they needed to feel useful, and close to him right now. She busied herself making meals and talking to Jarrod while they worked on the travois.
Jarrod tried to talk her into joining them in Stockton, but when Madeline found out that his wife Marilyn would be there, she pointed out privately that it might be better if she went on to San Francisco and got herself settled. Jarrod had spoken of Marilyn’s insane jealousy and Madeline had no desire to add fuel to the fire. He reluctantly agreed and promised he would contact her as soon as he returned to San Francisco.
And so they began the long journey home. Half way into the morning they had to stop and give Jarrod a breather from the incessant jarring. Baking in his own sweat, they managed to find some shade to cool him down, and Madeline took the time to put hot compresses on his aching hip. Jarrod remained silent, but one look in his eyes and it was easy to see the amount of pain he was in. The sun was hot and the humidity made doing anything uncomfortable. They had to stop several times to get Jarrod to drink, afraid that he would become dehydrated with the sweltering heat.
By late afternoon they’d managed to make it to Moore’s Station and everyone was exhausted from the heat. Jarrod was suffering too much to go on and they all decided here was as good as any to spend the night. Madeline found supplies inside the station and got busy making supper while Nick and Heath helped Jarrod from the travois. In too much pain to help, he let them carry him in to the only bed, where he fell into an exhausted sleep. Nick sat with him for a few minutes wondering if they’d forced the trip home too soon. Maybe they should have taken a few more days to let him heal. All of them were anxious to get home, Jarrod included, and the thought of staying one more night at the stage appealed to no one.
Nick joined Heath in the makeshift corral where he was feeding the horses and aired his thoughts, “You figure we shoulda tried movin’ him so soon?”
Heath was giving one of the horses a rubdown and he stopped to lean on the mount, “I don’t reckon he woulda stayed no matter what we thought Nick.”
Pacing outside the corral, Nick stopped and pounded on the fence, “And what the hell was he doing in Yuma?”
Heath shrugged, “Don’t rightly know.”
“Humph. He’s got some explaining to do, that’s for sure.”
“What do ya mean, Nick?” frowned Heath, wondering what Nick was talking about.
Nick ducked under the fence and started helping Heath with the horses as he answered in a hushed tone, “I heard him and Madeline talkin’ earlier. She said it would be better if she didn’t stay in Stockton and he said he’d contact her when he got to San Francisco. What the hell is that about?”
Heath raised an eyebrow, but wanted to give Jarrod the benefit of the doubt, “Could be anything Nick? He calls her Miss Harcourt, don’t sound to me like they got that familiar. Besides ain’t no way Jarrod would ever do anything to hurt Marilyn.”
Shaking his head, Nick spoke angrily, “He better not or he and I will be talkin’.”
Nick took his own marriage vows very serious and thought his brothers should do no less. Jarrod and Nick both had Heath to remind them that marriage was a sacred commitment and wasn’t to be taken lightly. Still, Nick couldn’t get the conversation between Jarrod and Madeline out of his head. Spoken in hushed tones he was sure there was more than he was seeing or hearing between the two of them. He vowed to keep a close eye on Miss Harcourt and see just what her intentions were.
Heath interrupted Nick’s thoughts, “I been thinkin’ about the train Nick. At the rate were goin’ it’s still gonna be at least two more days for we get to San Fernando. We need to rig some sorta shade for him or he’s gonna bake in this sun.”
They finished the horses and Nick slapped him on the back, “You just tell me what to do little brother.”
He stumbled forward from Nick’s exuberance and said sarcastically, “You can start by not trying to kill me.”
“Let’s go see what Miss Harcourt has cooked up fer dinner, then we can work on it when it cools down a bit.”
Heath gave him a lop-sided grin, “She sure can cook, can’t she?”
“Yep...Hey Heath, maybe you ought to warm up to her. Maybe she’ll take a shine to you.”
Blushing at Nick’s teasing, Heath shot back, “Maybe cookin’ skills was somethin’ you shoulda considered before you got married.”
Heath left Nick standing as he struggled to find a response, and laughed when Nick finally caught up with him and stuttered, “Now that was hittin’ below the belt little brother.” Then Nick slapped him in the chest and laughed, “Besides, Dora’s got other skills that are a lot more important than cookin’.”
Shaking his head, Heath told Nick disgustedly, “Too much information, Nick.” Both men laughed as they headed inside the station.
Madeline was just returning with another hot compress for Jarrod when they entered and she gingerly handed the hot rag to Heath. “If you’ll put that on his hip, I’ll get you gentlemen some supper.” Looking at Nick, she added worriedly, “Can you see if you can make him eat? He needs it to keep up his strength.”
“He’ll eat ma’am. I’ll see to it.” Nick’s tone gave no doubt that Jarrod would be eating his supper.
“Thank you. I’ll get your supper.” Madeline left the two of them to care for Jarrod while she filled their plates with some rabbit stew and biscuits. Having real supplies to work with made a big difference in the quality of their meal. While the station was unmanned, the stage regularly dropped off the standard supplies for travelers. The rabbit was an unfortunate wanderer across their path today and it was quickly skinned and gutted for the evening meal. With canned peaches, a little flour and sugar, she even managed to whip up a dessert.
The meal was well received and even Jarrod asked for seconds once they finally got him to eat something. The pain had relented some once he was no longer being bounced around and he was in much better spirits after supper. He still looked tired and worn and it wasn’t long before he fell asleep. Not long after Nick and Heath returned from fixing the travois, the rest of them found beds and went to sleep. Tomorrow would be much the same as today, and the earlier they started, the more traveling they could do before the heat became oppressive.
The
next two days were much the same and no one was more relieved to reach San
Fernando than Jarrod. Nick send a telegram home and
they all boarded the train, knowing home was only a few hours away.
Madeline embarked at San Francisco with promises to see a doctor and a telegram letting them know she was settled. Jarrod gave her the address of an excellent boarding house and Heath made sure she was on her way before he boarded the train with his brothers. The trip home was silent for the most part. Jarrod finally had some laudanum and was sleeping peacefully for the first time in four days. Arriving in Stockton, they helped their groggy, but happy brother from the train and took him to Dr. Merar’s office, at Victoria’s insistence. She’d met them at the train, leaving Marilyn at home to sleep. Victoria couldn’t help but wonder if Marilyn wasn’t getting too much sleep. She remembered her own struggle to come to terms with the death of her baby and all the time she wanted just to sleep so she wouldn’t have to think about it.
Dr. Merar looked Jarrod over and was surprised at the amount of bruising he had sustained and yet only had a broken arm. He plastered the arm, and set it in a sling. Despite the pain, limited mobility would help heal his shoulder. Jarrod’s hip caused him the most concern but he couldn’t feel any break as he poked and prodded the area. He knew a bruised bone could hurt as badly as a broken one and he suspected that Jarrod’s hip had taken the brunt of his fall. Not only was it badly bruised but the muscle was probably strained. Hopefully over time it would begin to show some improvement. Miss Harcourt’s hot compresses had been the best medicine and Dr. Merar suggested they continue that treatment instead of dosing him with laudanum. He did however dose Jarrod for the final trip to the ranch. There was no point in making him suffer needlessly over the rough roads.
Victoria took Dr. Merar aside while Nick and Heath put Jarrod in a much cushioned buckboard and asked him about Marilyn. Dr. Merar could only shake his head and assure Victoria that such behavior was common after such a loss. He did warn her to be alert to other signs that might indicate a bigger problem. Victoria assured him that she seemed fine for the most part, but preferred to sleep a lot. Dr. Merar told her not to worry that most women eventually came to terms with the loss and would begin to interact more with those around her. Unfortunately for Jarrod and those around him, Marilyn had become very good at hiding her drinking while at the ranch. Sleeping had simply become a way of hiding the effects of her nightly binges. With no one to aggravate her, she seemed content enough. That was about to change.
Chapter
Ten
When they finally made it home to the ranch, Jarrod was completely out of it. The laudanum had done its job and Nick and Heath had to carry him into the house. He was oblivious to everything. Marilyn rushed to meet them and cried out, “Oh my gosh, Jarrod! What’s wrong with him?”
Victoria pulled her back gently, “Marilyn, let the boys get him settled.” Heath and Nick went by with Jarrod between them and Marilyn gasped as she put a hand over her mouth. Victoria wrapped her arm around Marilyn and explained Jarrod’s condition, “The doctor gave him something for the ride home. It will be a while before he wakes again.” Following Nick and Heath up the stairs, Victoria continued to console her teary eyed daughter-in-law. She was glad that Dora had decided to keep Lacy from seeing Jarrod until he was feeling a little better and could talk to his niece. Lacy adored Jarrod and they all thought it might be easier for Lacy if Jarrod were awake to assure her he was okay.
They all ascended the stairs and Jarrod was soon settled in comfortable pants and sleeping soundly. Marilyn insisted on sitting with him, and the others respected her need to spend some time alone with her husband. Marilyn sniffled to Nick as he walked towards the door, “Could you close the door, Nick?”
“Sure.” Nick sympathized with Marilyn’s distress at seeing Jarrod so battered and bruised. He could only imagine how he would feel if it were Dora lying there and he suddenly needed to see his wife and little girl. Closing his hand on the door, he stopped and addressed his sister-in-law softly, “If you need anything, just holler.”
Marilyn wiped a tear and sniffed, “Thank you, Nick.”
Nick closed the door and strode downstairs in search of Dora. Not finding her inside, he stopped in the kitchen on the way out the back door and questioned Silas, “Is Dora outside, Silas?”
“Yessir, Mr. Nick. She be outside with Lacy.”
Nick grinned, “Thanks, Silas.” He went outside and stood under the rose-covered veranda watching Dora play with Lacy. Lacy was screaming with delight as her mother ran behind her reaching out now and then to tickle her. Nick chuckled at the sight and caught Lacy’s attention.
Her head shot up and she screeched, “DADDY!!” She tore across the yard towards him, her arms lifted high in the air. Stepping down into the yard, he dropped down on one knee, just as she launched herself into his arms. “I missed you, Daddy!”
Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, Nick hugged her back with equal abandon. “Hey, angel. I missed you too.” Lifting her in one arm, he held out the other to hug Dora as she stepped into his embrace. He cupped her neck, planted a soft kiss on her cheek as he held her head against his own and whispered, “I love you.”
Dora put her hand on his chest, and held it there as she looked into his hazel eyes. It wasn’t hard to see that the trip to find Jarrod had taken its toll on her big, tough cowboy. She asked worriedly in a very tender voice, “Are you okay?”
Nick nodded, but Dora wasn’t so easily convinced. She let it slide for now as Nick returned his attention to the squirming little girl on his arm.
“Daddy?” asked Lacy very seriously.
Nick frowned at her solemn tone, “What, angel?”
Her exuberance was gone and her lip quivered as she asked, “Is Uncle Jarrod okay?”
Nick could see the tears starting to form. He set her on the ground and knelt down on one knee in front of her. “Oh angel, he’s fine. He’s got some bruises but he’s gonna be okay.”
The tears were flowing freely and Lacy cried, “But no one would let me see him, Daddy!”
Nick pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped away tears as he said gently, “He’s tired, angel. He need’s lots of sleep so he can get better. I promise when he wakes up, you can go see him.”
Lacy sniffled, “Ya mean it, Daddy?”
He pulled her to his chest and smiled up at Dora, who was wiping tears of her own, “Cross my heart.”
Lacy stepped back, planted her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow at him, “And hope to die?”
Nick threw his head back and laughed along with Dora, “And hope to die, angel!” He grabbed her around the waist and threw her into the air, catching her deftly before settling her on his hip. Gathering Dora to his other side, he looked from one to the other and smiled, “Now how ‘bout my two best girls findin’ me somethin’ to eat. I’m starved.”
Lacy rolled her eyes skyward, “Tsk, you’re always starved Daddy!” Nick only laughed louder as the trio headed inside in search of something to eat.
*********************
Marilyn sat in the room with Jarrod and waited for Nick to leave. Rushing to the door, she leaned her ear against it and waited until the footsteps retreated before she found her satchel in the closet and pulled out a bottle of Barkley wine she’d pilfered from the cellar the previous day. Victoria and Dora had gone to town, and Silas was visiting a sick friend so Marilyn had the whole house to herself. She wasted no time gathering a bottle here and a bottle there to hide in the room. Pulling the cork on the bottle, she took a long swig and quickly put it back in its hiding place. Returning to Jarrod’s side, she waited impatiently for him to wake up. Reaching into her dress pocket, she pulled out a peppermint stick and took a bite. She smiled as it filled her mouth with a cooling freshness. Marilyn sneered to herself. She’d thought of everything. Yesterday, she had asked Victoria if she would pick up her favorite candy. She told her that it helped calm her upset stomach lately and Victoria was more than happy to do her bidding. The trip to town was Marilyn’s saving grace and she no longer worried about getting caught sneaking a drink or having the smell on her breath. To be on the safe side she did most of her drinking after the family went to bed.
The family tried to convince her to come to supper, but Marilyn refused, insisting she wanted to be with Jarrod when he woke. Dora brought her up a tray later, but food didn’t sound too appealing so she thanked her and said that she wasn’t feeling up to eating just yet. The whole family dropped by off and on that evening to sit with her and Jarrod as she waited for him to wake. She counted off the minutes until they all went to bed so they would leave her alone. They all assured her that Jarrod was simply exhausted from the trip and perhaps she should stretch out herself and get some sleep. Thinking they might leave her alone if they thought she was sleeping she finally relented and lay down beside her husband. Marilyn waited until she heard the house get quiet before she got up and began sipping the fine brandy she’d absconded. They had so much liquor in the house it was easy to find enough to keep her supplied for several days without anyone being the wiser.
Long into the night, Jarrod opened his eyes and realized it was already dark and he wondered how long he’d been asleep. He felt rested, but the pain in his hip was making itself known after hours in the same position. Falling asleep on his back just put more pressure on it and he needed to move. Turning his head towards the door to see if he was alone, he was surprised to see Marilyn sitting in the chair at his beside.
“Marilyn!”
“Jarrod,” returned Marilyn.
Jarrod wasn’t sure what to make of her response and spying the clock on his dresser he saw that it was almost two o’clock in the morning. “You should get some sleep. It’s late.”
Marilyn smiled unpleasantly, and Jarrod got an uneasy feeling as she spoke. “But I’ve been waiting for you to wake, dear.” The hair on the back of his neck stood up and he tried to shift himself away from her but the pain in his hip was too much and he sunk back down in the bed.
Marilyn rose to sit beside him on the bed, as she said with alarm, “Oh Jarrod, you poor thing. Where does it hurt?” She reached out with her hand and grabbed his hip in a firm grip and hissed, “Here!”
Jarrod cried out and arched his back in agony. He tried to free himself from her grasp and grab her hand, but she used her other hand to hold his hurt shoulder, effectively incapacitating him. Every move he made brought more pain as she squeezed his hip harder. He lay gasping for air, his face red and clenched in pain. The sweat beaded on his face and he was desperately trying to free himself as he literally shook from the torture Marilyn was inflicting. The more he struggled the more she seemed to delight in hurting him. He lay before her, his eyes glazed over with pain and he opened his mouth to cry out when he saw her lift her hand and bring it down full force on to his hip. The scream for help never escaped as he felt his world explode in pain and the darkness overtook him.
The sun was shining bright the next time he woke for he could feel the heat of the sun on his face. Afraid to open his eyes for fear of being alone with Marilyn again he was glad to hear his mother’s voice. “Marilyn you’ve been with him all night. Why don’t you go and get some rest. You look exhausted.”
Jarrod could hear Marilyn sigh loudly, “I don’t know. I hate to see him wake up and me not be here.” He thought to himself that he could think of nothing better than to see her gone forever.
“I’ll sit with him, dear. You need some sleep or you won’t do Jarrod or yourself any good.”
“I suppose. Don’t let me sleep too long, though. I need to be here for him.” Marilyn rose from her chair and leaned over the bed to kiss her husband. Jarrod felt the bed sink and he had to force himself not to flinch. When he felt her kiss his cheek, he couldn’t stop the repulsive shudder. Marilyn noticed too and she whispered into his ear. “Vengeance is mine.”
Jarrod lay perfectly still, his mind screaming at him to do something...anything, but he could think of nothing that would stop her. The shame of telling his family that his wife was crazy and tormenting him was more than his pride could handle. The only thought that prevailed this morning was the agony he felt when he tried to move. He tried to go back to sleep but the pain was too extreme and he waited several minutes to make sure that Marilyn was gone. Finally, in a voice weak with pain, he gasped, “Mother?”
Victoria rushed to his side and one look into his eyes she could see the amount of pain he was in. Putting a gentle hand on his chest she said worriedly, “I’ll be right back. I’m going to have Silas bring some hot water and we’ll but some compresses on that hip.” Jarrod closed his eyes and nodded wearily. Already he was bathed in sweat and he bit his lips to stop the cry that threatened to escape.
Leaving his side, Victoria rushed into the hall and ran into Nick, “Nick! Go sit with Jarrod, while I get some hot water.”
One look into her eyes and he knew she was upset. He grabbed her arms to stop her from leaving and asked sharply, “What is it Mother? What’s wrong?”
“He woke up in a lot of pain. Please, just go sit with him until I get back.”
Nick released his mother and hurried into Jarrod’s room. Nick found Jarrod trying to get onto his side and hurried to help. “Hold on Jarrod. Let me help you. Just relax and let me do it.” Nick knelt on one knee beside him and easily turned Jarrod onto his side. Jarrod’s good hand clenched the bed sheets, and he sucked air in sharply as he tried to relax. His breathing was ragged and Jarrod buried his head in his shoulder.
Nick could see the agony Jarrod was in and grabbed the hand that clasped the bed in his own big hand. Leaning over his brother’s trembling frame, Nick said gently, “Hang on Jarrod, Mother’ll be right back with some hot towels.” His heart broke as he watched tears fall across Jarrod’s nose and drop onto the sheets. Nick looked anxiously at the door and opened his mouth to yell when Silas suddenly entered with the hot water, followed by Victoria with a handful of towels. Nick leaned down and spoke softly to Jarrod, “Mother’s here, big brother. We’ll have ya feelin’ better in no time.” Jarrod’s only response was to squeeze his hand.
Heath rushed in and immediately set about helping Silas ring out the hot towels for Victoria to place on Jarrod’s hip. She sat beside her son and placed one hot towel after another until Jarrod final began to relax and she looked up at Heath and shook her head as he handed her another towel. “I think it’s finally worked.”
Shirt sleeves rolled up and his hands red from the hot water, Heath nodded, “How ya doing, big brother?”
Opening his eyes, Jarrod smiled weakly at him, embarrassed by all the attention, “Better.” His eyes shifted to his mother and then he lifted his head to look back at Nick. Sinking back into the bed, he spoke just above a whisper, “Thanks.”
His eyes started to drift shut and Nick released the hand he’d been holding and sighed, “Get ya some rest big brother.”
Alarmed at the thought of falling asleep, Jarrod’s eyes shot open and he shook his head. Realizing he was worrying his family with his reaction, he covered by saying, “Hungry.” Jarrod sighed inwardly when they all started laughing.
“Well you should be. Ya ain’t done nothin’ but sleep since ya got home,” laughed Nick.
“Uncle Jarrod?” All the heads in the room turned in unison at the little voice in the doorway.
Behind Lacy, stood her mother who shrugged innocently, “I couldn’t keep her away any longer.”
Nick stood and took his daughter’s hand and led her to her uncle’s bedside as he said in a fatherly tone, “You be careful. Your uncle ain’t up to no roughhousin’ yet.”
Lacy stood solemnly beside the bed and Jarrod reached out to take her hand, “Hello little one.”
Trying to hold back tears, Lacy asked “Are you gonna be okay, Uncle Jarrod?”
“I’m going to be just fine,” said Jarrod. Lacy didn’t look convinced so Jarrod looked at his brother’s, “Help me sit up.” Neither man argued, despite Victoria’s stern look. They each got on one side of him and slid Jarrod up so he could lean against the headboard as both Dora and Victoria reluctantly cushioned his perch with pillows. Jarrod grimaced with the change in position, but managed to smile down at Lacy as he patted the bed, “Climb up here.”
Lacy sat on the edge of the bed afraid to move for fear of hurting him and Jarrod finally reached out and pulled her to his side. Snuggling against his undamaged side, Lacy cried, “I was so worried you was hurt bad, Uncle Jarrod.”
Jarrod held her close and kissed the top of her head, “Shhhh. I’m okay. Just a little bruised. With you takin’ care of me, I’ll be better in no time.”
Lacy lifted her head and asked with surprise, “Ya mean it. I can stay with ya.”
“Of course you can. Who else am I gonna play checkers with?” Jarrod smiled as her little face lit up. She buried herself in his side and Jarrod flinched in pain. Dora and Nick both moved in quickly to relieve him of Lacy, but he waved them off.
Both uncle and niece seemed comforted by each other. Everyone left the two of them alone and when Silas arrived later with his breakfast, Jarrod happily shared it with the chattering four-year-old. Lacy spent most of the day, playing and talking with her uncle. When he laid down for a nap, she dutifully laid beside him and slept. She was very careful not to hurt him and she happily ‘nursed’ him all day long. When the pain got to be too much, Lacy diligently went to find someone to apply the hot towels as she held her uncle’s hand. Despite the pain, Jarrod couldn’t remember a having spent such a wonderful day with his niece. Marilyn made an appearance in the afternoon and gushed over him. Jarrod later made a move of his own, when both Victoria and Marilyn were in the room.
“Mother? I want you to make sure that Marilyn gets some sleep tonight. I don’t want her staying up all night like she did last night.”
Marilyn frowned at him, “Now Jarrod, you know I want to be here. Someone has to be here in case you wake up hurting. I would never forgive myself if you were here by yourself.”
Victoria fluffed his pillows and piped in just as Jarrod knew she would, “Marilyn don’t be silly. We can all take a shift, that way everyone can get some sleep.”
“I think you should get a full nights rest tonight, sweetheart. You didn’t sleep last night and you need your rest,” said Jarrod.
His eyes met Marilyn’s over his Mother’s shoulder and she was seething. Her face changed instantly, as she watched Victoria turn and speak to her. “Jarrod’s right, in no time at all he’ll be ready to go home and you’ll need your strength.”
Marilyn sighed, “I supposed you’re right, but it doesn’t feel right to leave his care to all of you.”
Victoria chuckled and reassured her, “Don’t fret Marilyn. You’ll have all day to coddle him.” Standing beside the bed, Victoria asked Jarrod, “Is there anything I can get you? I’m going to go down and see how supper is doing and I’ll send someone up with a tray.”
Jarrod began to panic as Marilyn sat beside him on the bed. Recovering quickly he said calmly, “I’m fine Mother. I think I’m going to rest for awhile.” Jarrod looked at Marilyn, “Why don’t you see if you can find Dora. I know you two haven’t gotten to gossip in a long time. You can bring me supper later if you like. There’s no point just sitting here watching me sleep.”
With her back to Victoria, Marilyn’s face was livid with anger, as she spoke to Jarrod sweetly, “Well if you’re sure. I’ll have Silas fix us both a tray and we can eat together.”
With a trademark charming smile, Jarrod responded, “That sounds wonderful.”
Marilyn leaned over and kissed his cheek again and whispered for his ears only, “You bastard!”
Jarrod smiled genuinely this time, “Have a nice time with Dora, sweetheart.”
Joining Victoria at the door, Marilyn chimed in before she left, “Are you sure you’ll be okay by yourself?”
“I’ll be fine.” Jarrod sighed in relief when she finally left. He’d been lucky today and he was under no illusion that his luck would hold out. His only hope was that she wouldn’t turn ugly until she felt she was truly alone and Jarrod was going to do everything in his power to see that it didn’t happen. With his family on guard at night and Lacy with him during the day, only a few hours were unaccountable.
What Jarrod didn’t realize was that Marilyn was totally
consumed with seeing him suffer and she would stop at nothing to see that his
life was destroyed. She had plans for
him and her cunning, deranged mind would make sure, that before she was done,
even his family would begin to doubt the integrity of one Jarrod Barkley.