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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
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2012-04-19
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8,530
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4/4
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No Place That Far

Summary:

A 'what if' story based on "The Murdered Party". What if Jarrod hadn't turned around at the end of the episode and just continued going up the stairs?

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Notes:

I don't own The Big Valley and make no money from this.

Chapter Text

The lights were shining through the windows as Jarrod slowly rode up to the house. They held the promise of warmth, of family and of home but the lawyer wasn't sure if any of those would be offered to him that night. He'd remained in town as long as he could without actually staying over in the hope that the rest of the family would have long since gone to bed. He sighed. Apparently, the Barkley luck was still shunning him.

Holding off facing his family for as long as possible, Jarrod took Jingo to the barn and unsaddled him. He curried the sorrel until his coat shone in the light of the lantern and took extra care in making sure his mount was bedded down comfortably for the night as he added hay to the manger and fresh water to the bucket hanging on the side of the stall. With one final pat on Jingo's shoulder, Jarrod turned to his gear. Usually Ciego took care of the tack, but brushing off the blanket and wiping down the leather as he checked over the seams and stitching helped him put off the inevitable for that much longer. Finally, there was nothing left for him to do and he reluctantly retrieved his brown leather case from the saddlebag and slowly made his way to the front door.

The lawyer stood on the porch with his hand hesitating over the handle for a moment before he took a deep breath and entered. He closed the door behind him, stepped down into the foyer and then stopped when he saw the family sitting in the parlour. Audra was working on a needlepoint sampler and Victoria was playing a game of chess with Heath. Nick, who never could sit still for too long, was pushing the logs in the fireplace around with a poker.

Jarrod slowly crossed the foyer and placed his hat carefully on the small table. No one said anything, not one word of greeting; they didn't even glance up from their tasks. Jarrod's stomach tightened painfully, the feeling even stronger than the gut-wrenching he had when Korby Kyles practically shouted his guilt for the whole courtroom to hear earlier that day. He'd expected this reaction, which was why he took so long to come home, but to see his family's condemnation so blatantly was more than Jarrod could bear at the moment. He turned without a word and quietly headed up the stairs to the sanctuary of his room.

He threw the folder down on the dresser with a loud slap and took out the bottle of scotch he kept upstairs. Pouring himself a generous amount, Jarrod tossed it back before splashing more into the glass. He carried it over to the leather-upholstered chair by the fireplace and set the glass down before removing his jacket and vest, tugging off his tie and throwing the items across the bed rather than neatly hanging them in the wardrobe as was his custom. Maybe he should have just stayed over in town, but he'd come home with a faint hope that his family might have forgiven him, a hope that he now knew was in vain. Jarrod sank into the chair and leaned back as he closed his eyes as the images from earlier that day ate at his thoughts as they had for the past several hours.

The doubt growing in Heath's eyes while he was on the witness stand as Jarrod brutally ripped apart his testimony.

The sadness and disappointment on the rest of the family's faces when Jarrod finished his cross-examination of his new brother and possibly hurting Heath's hard-earned credibility as Tom Barkley's son at the same time

The smirk on Korby's face during the entire proceeding, turning to sheer unadulterated rage when the train engineer, Bingham, positively identified Kyles as the man he saw stabbing Col. Ashby by the bright light of the locomotive.

The remembered horror and dismay on his mother's face as Nick wrestled down the fleeing Korby ripped at the lawyer and he took another gulp of his scotch. It wasn't as if he hadn't defended guilty clients whom he thought were innocent before; it was one of the hazards of being a lawyer, after all. But how could he have believed that Heath would ever make a statement that could result in a death sentence unless he was completely sure? Jarrod knew Heath wouldn't do something like that, but he'd represented Kyles anyway, his conviction that everyone, even someone like Korby Kyles, deserved fair representation overshadowing his faith in his brother.

Jarrod started to take another drink before he realized the glass was empty. He rose to his feet and went to pour another and then just picked up the bottle to take the whole thing over to his seat. He was already starting to feel the effects of the strong liquor on his empty stomach and welcomed the oblivion that would hopefully follow a few more glasses.

"Not much of a big brother, was I, Heath?" he said softly. He held his glass up in a mock toast and watched the lamplight flicker in its amber depths. "Here's to you, brother Heath. You're a damn sight better man than I am." Jarrod drank that shot down before refilling his glass again.

*

Audra set down her needlepoint as they heard Jarrod's door click shut. The family exchanged guilty glances and Nick set the fireplace poker back in its place.

"Reckon one of us should tell Jarrod supper's waiting?" Heath asked as he looked to the top of the stairs.

"Yeah, I'll go," Nick volunteered. "I guess Pappy's beating himself up over this more than we ever could."

Victoria put a cautioning hand on her son's arm and wished they had greeted Jarrod differently, not even sure now why they all felt the need to make him feel more guilty before telling him he'd been forgiven. "I think we should let him be. I'm not sure Jarrod wants any company right now. You've seen him after he's lost a big case or defended the wrong person before. He always needs time by himself for a bit afterwards. Let's just go have dinner and I'll let him know that we've left something in the kitchen for him."

She tapped on Jarrod's door after they all went up, ready to put the day behind them and start the new one afresh. Not hearing a reply, she debated whether to go in or not and decided he was likely already asleep. Knowing her eldest son's need for privacy, Victoria went on to her room instead, knowing she'd see Jarrod in the morning.

*

In spite of the amount of alcohol he'd consumed, restful sleep eluded Jarrod. He continued to see the disappointment in his mother's eyes in his dreams and the looks of betrayal on the faces of his siblings. Finally sitting up in bed, Jarrod looked at the hands of the clock, slightly illuminated by the faint light coming through the window. Ten minutes to four. Jarrod scrubbed his face with his hand and knew there wasn't much chance of just rolling over and going back to sleep, especially not with the dull pounding behind his eyes and queasy roiling of his stomach.

Jarrod dragged himself slowly out of bed. He still didn't feel like facing the family; the silent rejection of the night before was enough to tell him how they felt. As he dressed for the day, he tried to think about how much work he had waiting for him in town and debated whether it was enough to keep him busy and away from the house until he felt like dealing with the colossal mistake he'd made.

Then he thought about his office in San Francisco. There was a train leaving just after five and he likely had enough business to keep him in the city for a good week or so. That should give plenty of time to come up with ways to make amends for the way he'd treated the family. A box of Ghirardelli's chocolates for his mother, perhaps, some of those cigars Nick liked so much, and maybe a pair or two of new gloves for the ever-practical Heath. He would do what he could to secure more donations for the new orphanage his sister was so passionate about and see if he could acquire the land from Mrs. Ashby himself, anonymously or through a third party if he had to. Jarrod knew he couldn't buy his family's forgiveness, but it could make a start.

Shaking off the feeling that he was running away, Jarrod quickly packed his bag. He'd make sure to leave word with the stationmaster to tell the family where he was so they wouldn't worry and quietly slipped out of the house before anyone else woke.