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Be A Man	By : cowgirl65 Category: 1 through F > The Big Valley Views: 3052 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I in no way own The Big Valley. 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
- 10
- 11
- 12
A/N: The next few chapters contain scenes taken straight out of the series pilot ‘Palms of Glory’. I haven’t written in all the scenes from the episode, but I hope you can follow even if you’re not familiar. POG can be found on YouTube if you’re interested.

The blond cowboy urged his mount through the impressive iron gate. He hadn’t planned on asking for a job at his father’s family’s ranch, but when he’d been practically offered a place by the girl who turned out to be his half-sister, he decided to give it a shot and see what happened. He certainly wouldn’t be any worse off than if he just rode away.
He gave a small smile as he recognized the first of the two men who came out of the house as the cowboy he’d sparred with on the bridge. He carefully held that expression when he recognized the second man as well.
“Small world, ain't it?” he said, not giving an indication that the comment was made for both men.
The tall cowboy returned the smile. “Something for you?”
“Mr. Barkley, if you know where I can find him,” the blond replied.
“Take your choice.” The cowboy gestured to the other man as well.
The blond looked for any sign of recognition on the face of the man in the expensively tailored suit and wasn’t sure if he was pleased or not to find nothing. “Well, I was told Nick does the hiring.”
“Of what?” The question was asked with a hint of suspicion. The man in the suit remained silent.
He shifted to lean on the front of his saddle. “Well, line boss, hay waddy, hasher, cow prod, jingler. You name it. I've done it.
“What's your name?” the well-dressed man asked. He exuded a slightly surprising air of confidence and poise along with a sudden hint of recognition.
“Heath,” the blond cowboy replied warily.
A smile came on to the man’s face. “I was on that train this afternoon. Quite a race.”
Heath felt a justifiable pride in his mount and his abilities as a horseman. Beating that train had required nerves of steel and the ultimate trust of his sturdy black Modoc. “No contest,” he replied modestly. “Not the way those cabbage stacks come off a turn.”
The cowboy from the bridge, likely Nick, still sported a distrustful expression. “Where’re you from?”
“West of the divide,” Heath answered evasively.
“How west?”
Heath raised his chin defiantly at the questioning. “Pretty much all over.”
“Last place you worked?”
“Corning,” he answered curtly.
“Sign him on, Nick,” the other Barkley said suddenly. Heath looked over to see those blue eyes giving him a serious appraisal and a shiver went up his spine.
“To what?” Nick demanded in an aggravated tone. “We're full.”
The blue gaze was steady and Heath met it with his own. “Well, he did me a little favour this afternoon,” the suave gentleman said with a quick wink to his brother. “Sign him on.” Heath watched as he turned and strode back into the house.
He looked back as Nick spoke up. The dark rancher had a wary smile on his face. “Take your gear over to the bunkhouse, see McNally. Tell him to sign you on.”
Heath tipped his hat and turned his Modoc in the direction of the ranch buildings. It didn’t take long for the ranch foreman to find him a bunk and a few chores to do around the yard. The work kept Heath’s mind busy and he didn’t have a chance to dwell on the day’s events until everyone was bedded down for the night.
He stared at the ceiling and thought about the revelations of the day. When he made the decision to come to Stockton, he didn’t have a clear plan in mind. He hadn’t been sure if he was just going to see what could have been his or if he was going to reveal that he was Tom Barkley’s son from the wrong side of the sheets and demand a piece of what he was entitled to. When he saw that train in decision, a wild, reckless streak surfaced that he rarely indulged. He’d raced the great iron horse on the flesh and blood mount he was so proud of and had only made the crossing by not much more than the length of the mare’s tail. Followed up by a test of wills with a dark-haired rancher, his brother Nick, on the narrow suspension bridge, an unexpected swim and being attacked by a blonde wildcat with a leather riding crop at his father’s grave had made for quite a day.
He wasn’t sure what he expected when he met his father’s family, but he didn’t think it was this. To find one of his brothers, the man in charge of the ranch, to be someone with a sense of humour he could appreciate and the obvious respect of his men, was a pleasant discovery. He got the impression that he and Nick were alike in all the ways that mattered and there was a good chance they could become fast friends if Nick could get around the fact that Heath was his father’s bastard.
Heath smiled as he thought of his encounter with Audra at their father’s grave. His little sister was quite the spitfire and the way she wielded that little whip had surely been a sight to behold. He liked his women curvy and full of fire and was glad she’d told him she was Tom Barkley’s daughter when she had or he was sure he would have kissed her, at least for starters.
Then his thoughts wandered to the other Barkley brother. Heath hadn’t been given his name, but it was obvious the distinguished man in the grey suit was the eldest, Jarrod. He’d heard stories about the lawyer, how he was ruthless in defending his family and upholding the law and how he was likely one of the fairest minded men on the west coast. It was said that creed, race or background made no difference to the man; he would defend or prosecute based on facts and circumstance rather than preconceived ideas. He thought of the appraising look Jarrod had given him, of his poise and self-assurance and contrasted that to what else he knew of his oldest brother the respected attorney.
A hand suddenly covered his mouth with a strong grip.
“Get dressed,” said a low voice. Heath looked into angry hazel eyes. The hand slowly released him and Heath sat up, never breaking his stare. Nick handed him his shirt and Heath took it wordlessly. He shrugged into it as he led the way out of the bunkhouse and into the neighboring barn.
“All right. Let's hear it,” the dark man growled.
Heath continued to button his shirt. “Well, you just name the tune, and I'll try to hum it,” he said nonchalantly. He took in Nick’s defiant posture, the hands braced firmly on his hips and the hard set of his jaw and managed to keep from chuckling. Nick reminded him the old banty rooster his mama’s friend Hannah had roaming around her place when he was a kid.
“Corning,” Nick snapped.
Heath started to roll up his sleeves. “Nice town.”
Nick was growing more impatient. “Last place you worked?”
“That's right.” Heath continued to be unruffled. He wondered what kind of poker player the ranch boss was.
“That's a hundred miles from here!”
“So?”
To Nick’s credit, he reined in his obvious exasperation with Heath’s uninformative answers. “You usually travel a hundred miles between jobs, with a dozen likely spreads on the way, huh?” This time Heath didn’t answer. “I asked you a question, boy.”
Heath gave Nick a steady look and walked away. Nick grabbed his arm as he walked past, spun him around and delivered a solid blow to the blond’s face, sending him into the wall.
“Ah, you're no more a trail hand than a Modoc,” Nick snarled. “All right. Let's hear it, boy, the truth. What are you doing here?”
Heath wasn’t about to take that kind of insult lying down. One fist and then the other connected neatly with Nick’s jaw as the taller man tried to grab him. He flew backwards over a table and Heath followed up by leaping on his opponent. They wrestled, each momentarily gaining advantage only to lose it again. Their conflict took them dangerously close to a horse’s hooves and the animal whinnied and shifted nervously. Nick managed to get on top and hauled Heath to his feet.
His questions were punctuated by solid hits with his fists. “Who sent you here, boy? The railroad? Crown? Jordan? They sent you, didn't they?”
Heath steadied himself, reaching back to feel against the wall. Nick Barkley sure packed a punch. “No man sends me anywhere,” he said as he hurled the heavy collar at Nick and followed up with more blows. Nick tumbled back over the half wall of a stall and Heath wrapped his arms around Nick’s neck. But he overbalanced and Nick was able to pull him over. The battle continued until Heath finally collapsed against the saddle rack. He wasn’t going to prove anything by beating or getting beaten to a bloody pulp.
“Who then?” Nick asked, breathing heavily as he loomed over Heath. “Who are you? I want to hear.”
Heath picked himself slowly off the floor.
“I said, who are you?” Nick repeated.
Nick wanted to hear, did he? Heath decided to lay all his cards on the table.
“Your father's bastard son.”
- 10
- 11
- 12
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Be A Man