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A Small Price To Pay	By : cowgirl65 Category: 1 through F > The Big Valley Views: 2767 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own The Big Valley and make no money from this.

Chapter List
- 1-ch. 1
- 2-ch. 2
- 3-ch. 3
- 4-ch. 4
- 5-ch. 5
- 6-ch. 6
- 7-ch. 7
- 8-ch. 8
- 9-ch. 9
- 10-ch. 10
- 11-ch. 11
- 12-ch. 12
- 13-ch. 13
- 14-ch. 14
- 15-ch. 15
- 16-ch. 16
- 13
- 14
- 15
Heath hesitated, hand poised to knock. Was it really his business? He’d only been a member of the family for two weeks, did he really have a right to confront one of them without any proof? Well, it wasn’t really without proof. Anyone who’d seen enough during the war knew the symptoms for what they were. He wasn’t surprised that Nick didn’t see it, though. He could tell how close the two brothers were and it was probably easier for Nick to explain his brother’s irritability and other symptoms as residual strain from his ordeal at Hannibal Jordan’s hands.
But Heath knew. He’d seen it too many times after Carterson, the shaking, the sweating, the inability to control emotions. Morphine was a miracle drug, but that miracle concealed the demon it truly was. He didn’t know the exact circumstances of what Jarrod had suffered during those days when he went missing and returned home beaten and battered, but his brother needed help. Maybe being the newcomer and not as close made him the right person to give that help after all.
Taking a deep breath, Heath knocked on the door. “Jarrod?” he asked softly. “It’s Heath. Can I talk to you?” He heard footsteps, the turn of the lock and the door opened.
“Come on in.” Jarrod turned and walked back to the chair by the fireplace. Heath didn’t comment on the haggard appearance, a distinct contrast from the good-looking man he’d first met, or the shaking of his brother’s hand as he picked up the cigar that was smouldering in the ashtray. He just carefully closed the door and pulled the other chair closer before sitting.
“Missed you at dinner.”
Jarrod took a drag on his cigar. “I wasn’t hungry. I had a late breakfast.”
Heath stared at his hands in his lap, working out how to broach such a delicate subject with a man he barely knew.
“Nick giving you trouble?”
Heath looked up and gave Jarrod a wry smile. No, he didn’t know Jarrod well, but from what he’d seen, it was completely in character for Jarrod to think of someone other than himself. “I don’t reckon it’s easy for him, having to share command, but he’s trying.” Jarrod didn’t need to hear how they butted heads over almost every decision. Heath knew there was a deep respect growing between he and Nick; he was just as stubborn as their brother and they’d figure it out eventually. “It’s you I wanted to talk about.” Might as well lay it out in the open.
Jarrod raised an eyebrow. “Me? I hope I haven’t been making this hard for you. If I have, I’m glad you’re telling me,” he said lightly.
“No, Jarrod, no one could ask for more.” Heath held Jarrod’s gaze with a steady look. “You’re having trouble, Jarrod,” he said bluntly. “I’ve seen it before and I want you to know that I’ll do everything I can to help you through it if you’ll let me.”
Jarrod looked away and set his cigar down carefully. “I don’t know what you mean, brother Heath.”
“Yes, you do.” Heath wasn’t going to let the lawyer smooth talk his way out of it. “If I had a look around, I’ll wager I’d find something, morphine, laudanum…” He waited for Jarrod’s reaction. As he expected, Jarrod fist clenched and his face contorted with rage. But unexpectedly, Jarrod took a deep breath and was able to control himself.
“Laudanum,” he admitted quietly. “I ran out of morphine. If I could get my hands on some more without anyone knowing, I probably would. I know I should stop, but it just gets too much…”
Heath leaned over and rested his hand on Jarrod’s clenched fist. “What happened?” But Jarrod didn’t talk, he just shook his head and kept his eyes lowered. “It always helps to talk, y’know. It helped me, after Carterson.”
Jarrod’s head snapped up and Heath nodded.
“Seven months before the end of the war. Over two hundred men died while I was there. A good number more of them would’ve died without the relief that the morphine brought. Some of them died because of it.” Heath looked steadily at Jarrod again. “It could kill you, Jarrod, if it doesn’t kill the family first.”
Swiping tears off his face, Jarrod nodded. “I just don’t know how else to keep the pain and the nightmares away.”
Heath stood. Jarrod would probably be able to open up more if he knew they wouldn’t be overheard. “Let’s get out of here. Nick went off to town to meet some friends, so he won’t notice if we sneak out. Any good fishing holes nearby?” He was gratified when Jarrod chuckled weakly.
“One or two.” He got to his feet and went to grab his jacket before Heath stopped him.
“Get the laudanum, too.”
Jarrod looked like he was going to argue, but Heath stood firm and Jarrod eventually nodded. He pulled two bottles out of a drawer and wordlessly handed them over. Heath tucked them inside his vest so they wouldn’t be noticed and the brothers quietly left the house. Pausing by the barn, Heath watched Jarrod out of the corner of his eye as he emptied the bottles Jarrod was looking away, hands clenched, and Heath put a hand on his shoulder when he was done.
“I know we haven’t known each other very long, but I’ll be with you as long as you need me, Jarrod.”
Jarrod took a shaky breath and nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He was doing his best not to be angry with Heath; he knew his new brother was only trying to help and if he had to be honest with himself, he knew everything Heath said was true. But seeing the contents of those two bottles drain away into the ground was almost more than he could handle. One of those bottles would have let him sleep that night; it would have helped take away the pain that still lingered in his groin and hand, not to mention make it easier to ignore the horrific images that still crept into his mind.
But Jarrod forcibly reminded himself that Heath had endured as much as he had, and part of it was his own fault, unlike his brother who was a victim of war. He glanced over at the blond as they gathered up the fishing gear and saddled two horses. How young must Heath have been anyway? His brain wasn’t working as well as usual and it took a couple tries, but Jarrod was finally able to do the math and the answer saddened him. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen when the war ended and Jarrod was chagrined. If Heath could survive a hellhole like Carterson at such a young age, surely he could manage to stop using opium and learn to live with what Hannibal Jordan had done.
The ride to the pond was quiet. Jarrod hadn’t ridden much since his injury and the ache between his legs grew with every step. He sagged in relief when they finally arrived. He would have loved to strip off his pants and soak himself in the cool water, but even though Heath had figured out the opium use, he wasn’t about to disclose how he’d been mutilated. So he just tried to make himself comfortable on the bank after they dropped their hooks in the water and hoped Heath wouldn’t notice his discomfort.
“I still wake up in a cold sweat sometimes,” Heath said after they fished in silence for a while. “I remember shivering from fever after being whipped, not knowing if one of the men I’d served with would decide the scrap of blanket I had was worth killing me for. I still wake up sometimes, hearing the moans of those who were dying and wondering if I’ll be next.”
“He raped me,” Jarrod admitted in a low voice, unable to keep silent in the face of Heath’s own confession. “Brutally and repeatedly.” If he was going to make a clean breast of it, he might as well admit all. Heath might as well know what kind of man he was getting for a brother. “I agreed to it at first, years ago, to protect the family. Then when he took me after the gunfight…” Jarrod couldn’t look at Heath, afraid of what he might see. “He drugged me, tortured me and raped me again. I was going to kill myself so it wouldn’t happen another time, but I was able to kill him first.”
Heath was silent and Jarrod’s hands tightened on his rod. Then the line jerked as a fish bit and Jarrod cursed when the rod was almost pulled out of his hands. He got up to reel it in, but his feet were unsteady, the fish was obviously a large one and Jarrod stumbled to land face first in the water.
“Fuck!” he swore, pushing himself up, and gladly took the hand Heath offered. The cool air and his wet clothes made him shiver and that, combined with the tremors that were likely from not having had a dose of opium for a while made him shake in earnest. Heath grabbed him, sat him down by a rock and started gathering wood.
“You can’t afford to get sick now, Jarrod,” Heath told him as he laid a fire. “You need to get out of those wet clothes before you catch a chill.”
Jarrod could see the wisdom of that, but he really didn’t want Heath to see his naked body, the scars and the empty skin where part of his manhood used to be. “I’ll be fine, Heath.”
Heath nursed the tiny blaze he had going until it was burning strongly. “Jarrod, you’re either gonna take those clothes off yourself or I’m going to take them off for you. Nick gets grumpy enough normally, I don’t want him to blame me for you getting sick.”
“Fine!” he snapped, not bothering to control his temper any more. He pulled off his boots and tossed them aside. His shirt followed, losing several buttons as he practically tore it off. He didn’t let himself think as he ripped off his pants and stood naked in front of Heath. “You happy?” he snarled, a slight tremble in his voice. “You like what you see?” But he didn’t expect the heavy saddle blanket wrapped around his shoulders and the warmth of Heath’s embrace as he pulled him down next to the fire.
“I didn’t know, Jarrod,” came the soft drawl. “But there’s nothing wrong with what I’m looking at.” Jarrod held his breath as Heath’s hand moved hesitantly towards his groin and his fingers gently stroked the still livid scar. Then Heath pulled his hand away and Jarrod saw the chagrin on his face.
“You don’t have to stop,” he whispered, the tremble in his voice for an entirely different reason. Heath was a good-looking man, but they were brothers. Not that that stopped the pleasurable thrill Heath’s resumed touch brought him. He knew he should ask Heath to stop, but… Part of his aversion to sex was that he’d lost his ability to trust another enough to allow that level of intimacy, but he instinctively knew he could trust Heath with his life and more.
“Jarrod, if you ask me to stop, I will.” Heath’s hand moved from stroking his empty sac to brush against his slowly-filling penis. “But I don’t really want to.”
“I don’t want you to either.” Then his breath caught as Heath bent over and tenderly licked his maimed scrotum. Jarrod clenched his hands and unwanted tears rolled down his face from the surge of emotion that overcame him.
Heath’s warm breath left him suddenly. “Jarrod? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was hurting you.”
Jarrod shook his head. “No, Heath, you weren’t, I…” This time, he couldn’t control his emotions and to his embarrassment, started sobbing uncontrollably. He tried to pull away in shame for his weakness, but Heath held him securely and wouldn’t let him go.
“It’s okay, Jarrod,” Heath murmured soothingly. “It’s the pain and the drugs, you can’t help it. Just get it out, I won’t let you go.”
It took a while before Jarrod exhausted himself and when he pulled away again, Heath let him. “Do I disgust you?’ Heath asked in a quiet voice.
Jarrod was taken aback. If anyone should be disgusted, it should be Heath. “You didn’t sell yourself to a man you hated,” he replied, equally quiet.
“You said you did it to protect your family,” Heath rebutted. He reached his hand down to stroke Jarrod’s scars. “Do they know?”
“Nick knows some,” Jarrod admitted. “He knows about what I did with Jordan, but he doesn’t know about…” He made an abortive motion to his injured manhood.
Heath nodded and caressed Jarrod’s cock and remaining ball. “Does it bother you, that I like doing this?”
“No.” Jarrod closed his eyes and concentrated on Heath’s touch for a moment. “Do you prefer to be with men?” Heath’s hand paused. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that.” He sucked in a breath as his cock twitched. “I’m sure it’s obvious that I do, but it’s been a long time.”
Heath’s hand resumed stroking him. “I know you’re my brother, but you’re also a good-looking man. I’ve gotten used to admiring and just moving on. It’s hard to know when a man’ll take kindly to this sort of attention.” Then his head dipped down again and Jarrod felt his hot breath as he said, “I’ve thought about doing this more than once.”
Jarrod shuddered as his cock was enveloped in moist heat. It had been a long time since he’d found himself in someone’s mouth and the fact that it was someone he was already developing a close emotional bond to threatened to consume him. Again, his fragile emotions took over and he cried as Heath brought him shuddering to his climax. “Heath,” he gasped and his brother once again wrapped him in his arms.
“I’ve got you, Jarrod. I won’t let you fall.”
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A Small Price To Pay