Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

By Any Other Name	By : cowgirl65 Category: 1 through F > The Big Valley Views: 2469 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I in no way own The Big Valley, the characters or situations from the show. I make no money from writing this, just the personal satisfaction of (hopefully!) entertaining those who love the show as much as I do.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
A massive storm had swept through the San Joaquin Valley, leaving a swath of destruction in its wake. They didn’t think it was the right moment for their announcement, so Heather decided to stay back in San Francisco while Jarrod rushed home. Now Jarrod stared ruefully at the damage in the grand house. The fury of the storm had shattered one of the French doors and the bombardment of wind and rain had wreaked havoc on the corner of the library. Soggy paper was strewn across the big desk and there was a definite warp in the oak surface from the water damage. He sighed.

“Well, at least the billiard table is okay,” Nick said as he strode into the room. He and Carrie had cut their honeymoon short so Nick could help with the cleanup.

“And at least I have copies of all the important documents in my office in town,” Jarrod added. “Let’s see if there’s anything salvageable in here.” He tugged on one of the desk drawers, but it didn’t budge. “Hey, Nick, give me a hand over here.”

Both brothers grabbed the wooden handle and pulled hard. The drawer came unstuck and part of the bottom flew off to land on the floor. A piece of paper fluttered down to land beside it. Nick looked at the broken drawer curiously as Jarrod picked up the envelope.

“Huh. This drawer had a false bottom,” he observed. “You know anything about that, Jarrod?”

Jarrod shook his head. “No. But this is addressed to Mother, in Father’s handwriting.”

“What is addressed to me?”

Both men turned to find Victoria standing in the doorway.

“A letter in a secret compartment in the desk,” Jarrod said as he handed it to her.

Victoria got a far away look in her eyes as she gazed at her name on the front and then opened the flap and took out the single sheet of paper. She started reading and suddenly her hand flew to her mouth and she grew pale.

“Mother, what is it?” Nick asked as he went to her. He guided her to sit on the settee after she handed the letter to Jarrod.

Jarrod took it. “It’s dated the day before he died.”

“Read it, Jarrod,” Victoria requested in a shaky voice.   “To all of us.”

Jarrod did as she requested and started reading the letter out loud.

“ ‘Dearest Victoria,

I am writing this letter in the hope that it gives me the courage to speak with you in person. I am not perfect and have never pretended to be, but what I must say is worse than the failings of an ordinary man.

I first must assure you that I love you and that my love has never wavered. It is with a heavy heart that I admit to you my sin and hope by some miracle you will find it in your heart to forgive me.

You may remember eighteen years ago when I was lost for a time. I had been bushwhacked and beaten and left for dead. I only later regained my memory to know who I was and come home to you.

What I didn’t tell you is that during my convalescence, I was taken in by a young woman who not only shared her home with me, but her bed as well’…”

Jarrod stopped and looked at his mother. Nick put his arm around her and there were tears on her face, but she motioned for him to go on.

“ ‘I recently made a trip back to Strawberry, to clarify the location of some of the holdings I had sold. I was informed by a friend of Leah’s that she had conceived a child, my daughter that she decided to raise on her own, a daughter I knew nothing about.

I am putting this on paper, my dearest Victoria, so there is proof of Heather Thomson’s paternity’…”

Jarrod’s voice faltered. The name written on the paper seared into his mind. Heather Thomson. The name of the woman who’d just agreed to marry him. The woman who had all of his heart and had given herself to him completely. Jarrod’s knees started to give out and he gripped the edge of the desk to steady himself.

Jarrod didn’t notice when Nick took the paper from his nerveless fingers and finished reading it.   He tried to deny it, tried to find some fault with the logic that was telling him the woman he loved was his sister. But the pieces fit too well; the time, the place, the name. Even Heather’s blonde hair and blue eyes that he had to acknowledge were Tom Barkley’s.

He was in love with his half-sister. And they shared more than that; they had shared each other in the most intimate way a man and woman could.

Jarrod started to feel sick. The room started to spin and he barely heard Nick’s question, “Jarrod, are you okay?”

Jarrod shook his head to clear it and tried to get a hold of himself. He couldn’t do this now. He couldn’t fall apart in front of his mother and brother, especially when they needed him. “I’m all right,” he heard himself say. “Just got a little dizzy, I guess I didn’t eat enough for breakfast this morning.”

Taking his explanation at face value, Nick shook the paper in front of Jarrod’s face. “So what are we going to do about this?” he demanded.

“I’ll tell you what we are going to do,” Victoria said calmly. Both men looked to their mother, whose face held determination overlying the hint of sadness. “We are going to honour your father’s wishes. He was killed before he could tell anyone, but it’s clear he wanted…” She paused to regain her composure. “It’s clear he wanted his daughter, your sister, to be a part of this family and to have the name she’s entitled to.”

Jarrod closed his eyes to mask his dismay when she said ‘your sister’.

“Mother,” Nick started to protest but she forestalled him with an upraised hand.

“No, Nick, we will do what’s right.” Victoria turned to Jarrod. “Jarrod, I’m sure you can use your contacts to find her.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard, Mother,” he said bitterly.

He did want to give Heather the Barkley name, just not like this. The image of the two of them, standing in front of the family and pledging their eternal love and devotion hit him again and Jarrod held on tightly to the pieces of his world that threatened to crumble into ruin. “I’ll head into town,” he said, using all the courtroom poise he could muster. “If I locate her, I’ll go talk to her in person.” He reached for the paper Nick held and was relieved to see his hand wasn’t shaking. “I’ll need this.”

“Jarrod,” Victoria said with concern, “you’re not feeling well. Maybe Nick should start…”

“NO!” Jarrod snapped, a little louder than he intended. He took a deep breath. “I’m fine, Mother,” he reassured her, “I’ll grab something from the kitchen on my way out. Nick has enough to do around here after that storm.”

Victoria reached up and kissed his cheek. “Don’t push yourself too hard, dear,” she advised. “Your father wrote this six years ago, I don’t think another six days or even six weeks will make much difference.”

Six weeks would have made all the difference, Jarrod thought as he rode out of the yard. If they had known six weeks ago, he would have located Heather as her brother. They would never have fallen in love, they would never have…

Jarrod felt the sick feeling rise in his stomach again. For over the past month, he’d been fucking his sister. Not just once or twice, which would have been bad enough, but nightly marathons that left them both drained and satisfied in a way he’d never experienced before. And there was more to their relationship than just the physical. Jarrod felt complete when they were together and knew Heather felt the same way. How the hell was he going to tell her he was her brother?

The bile rose in his throat and this time it was due to anger. Anger towards a world that had let that happen and anger towards a father who should have known better. Oh, he understood from the letter that his father hadn’t known who he was or that he was married. The fact that he had been unfaithful was really only a crime against his wife and if Victoria could see past that, Jarrod has no cause to dwell on it, other than the knowledge that his beloved mother had been hurt. No, his anger was directed at the fact that his father knew how babies were conceived and there was no excuse for him not to go check on his former lover. It would have been hard on all of them to find out that Tom had fathered an illegitimate child, but a world of heartache would have been prevented if they’d grown up knowing about each other.

Jarrod spurred Jingo harder and the sorrel picked up his pace, eager for a run. He had been in that position himself, years ago while serving in the war. He had been lost on the battlefield, wounded, dazed and hurting. She had just lost her family when the Confederate army overran her farm. They were able to take solace in one another’s bodies and out of that union, they conceived a child. Jarrod had remembered his father’s talk about taking responsibility for one’s actions and made sure to check in on her after he left. When she told him about the child, Jarrod made plans to marry her but everything was made moot when she caught fever and passed away. And if he had made a baby with Heather …

Damn you, Father, he shouted silently to the wind as it whistled past, if I could step up and be a man, why couldn’t you? Why did you keep us in the dark? Damn you, Father, why? But the wind and the ghost of his father had no answer and the rest of the ride went past Jarrod in a blur.

Jarrod closed himself in his office after he got to town and poured a large glass of scotch. It burned on the way down as he drank it in one gulp. Pouring another, he collapsed into the chair behind his desk and sank his head into his hands.

What the hell was he going to do? His first thought was to burn the letter, to deny any knowledge of the truth. But that wasn’t an option, even if his mother and brother didn’t already know. If he did that, he’d be living a lie and Jarrod knew he couldn’t keep up a life like that for long.

No, the only thing he could do was tell Heather and let her decide where to go from there. She had every right to claim her heritage as Tom Barkley’s daughter. What was past couldn’t be changed, but they could salvage some sort of future. Not the future he’d envisioned, but she would still be in his life even if it wasn’t in the way he yearned for her to be.

Assuming she even wanted to be associated with the family of the father who’d abandoned her mother in that decaying mining town. Assuming he could stand to see her everyday, knowing what they meant to each other, what they’d shared and would never be able to share again.

Jarrod drained his glass, quickly penned a note to the family telling them he had a lead and made his way to the station to catch the next train to San Francisco.

*

Jarrod hesitated, his hand over the doorknob. When he opened that door, his hopes and dreams for his future life would be shattered more irrevocably than the glass in the storm. His hand started to shake. Oh god, how was he going to tell the woman he loved more than anything that what they shared, what they wanted and needed from each other was forbidden? He closed his eyes tightly and took a few deep breaths. He couldn’t let himself fall apart. He was the strong one, the one everyone turned to. He was the respected attorney with the reputation of never losing his calm unless it was a calculated move to benefit his case. He had no choice, he had to go in and tell Heather the truth.

Jarrod opened the door and slowly walked in. He took off his hat and set it on the hall table with studied determination before going into the study where he’d seen a light burning from outside. His heart constricted painfully when he saw her curled up on the settee, her head back against the side and a book forgotten open in her lap. It was late; he should have realized she’d likely be asleep. Jarrod fought back the threatening tears as he watched her sleep, watched the rise and fall of her chest and the peaceful look on her face. Slowly, he made himself walk to the settee. He picked up the discarded book and set it carefully beside the lamp before sitting beside her and taking her hand.

“Heather?” he said, unable to make his voice any louder than a whisper. She stirred slightly and stretched her arm over her head as her eyes blinked open.

“Jarrod?” Heather asked sleepily. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be gone for a few more days.”

“Something…” Jarrod tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “Something came up.”

Heather lifted her hand to caress his cheek and Jarrod willed himself not to lean into her touch. He took her hand and set it back down in her lap.

“Jarrod, what’s wrong?”

“Everything. It’s… I…” He couldn’t say the words, couldn’t make himself tell her. Instead, he pulled the letter out of his pocket. “We found this in a secret compartment of my father’s desk,” he said as he handed it to her.

Heather took the envelope hesitantly.

“Read it.” Jarrod sunk his head into his hands, unwilling to see the look on her face when she discovered what the letter revealed.

“No,” came the anguished whisper, “no, you can’t be my… it can’t be true.”

Jarrod looked up and met her eyes briefly before looking away again. He couldn’t bear to see the pain and turmoil in the blue eyes so like his own. “I wish to god it wasn’t, but that’s my father’s handwriting and you can’t tell me he’s not describing you.” Jarrod gripped his hands together tightly. “He wrote that the day before he was killed. He didn’t make the effort to find out if he’d fathered a child earlier and then didn’t get the chance to tell us.”

“My mother never said a word,” Heather said, still in shock. “I’d ask sometimes, but she’d never tell me his name.” The last word came out in a choked sob and Jarrod turned to see tears streaming down her face. He couldn’t hold back any longer, he gathered Heather into his arms and held her tightly as his own tears finally overcame him. They held each other close for a long time.

“My mother asked me to find you,” Jarrod said quietly when he found his voice again. “She wants to honour Father’s wishes by acknowledging your birthright as Tom Barkley’s child.”

Heather pulled back and looked at him in disbelief.   “I can’t…”

Jarrod wanted nothing more than to continue to hold her close and kiss the pain and tears away. “It’s your decision, Heather,” he told her, his voice heavy with sorrow. “I just…” He shook his head. “I just want you to be happy.”

“How can I?” she said in anguish. “I love you, Jarrod, and I want to spend my life with you, but not as your…” She gulped and finished almost inaudibly, “…sister.” Heather looked up at him with tortured eyes. “God, Jarrod, what have we done?”

“We didn’t know, Heather,” he told her, his own grief and guilt coming to the forefront in the face of hers. “We couldn’t have known. No one can condemn us for secrets that were kept from us, from everyone.”

Heather pulled away and sat on the edge of the settee and Jarrod felt a wall go up between them. “I don’t know if I can do it, Jarrod,” she whispered. “I don’t know if I can go on with you in my life, but not being able to have…” She shook her head.

“You don’t have to do anything tonight,” Jarrod assured her, respecting her space and rising to his feet. “I’ll get a room at the Cosmopolitan.” He glanced at her and knew again how much he’d always love and desire her, despite the knowledge it could never be.

Heather got to her feet as well and new tears trickled down her cheeks as she tugged off the ring on her left hand and handed it to him. “You should take this back.”

Jarrod gazed at the slim circlet of gold that glittered in the lamplight. He took Heather’s hand, placed the ring in her palm and closed her fingers gently around it. “No, Heather, it’s yours. Even though the circumstances have changed, my feelings never will.” He kissed her quickly on the cheek and left abruptly before he did something he’d later regret, leaving Heather standing alone in the study, the symbol of their forbidden love clenched tightly in her fist.
- 9
- 10
- 11
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

By Any Other Name