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A Time For Everything	By : cowgirl65 Category: 1 through F > The Big Valley Views: 1445 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Nick was standing outside his door when Jarrod got up the next morning. “So?”

“So, what?” It was early and Jarrod hadn’t gotten to his own bed until late so it didn’t register right away what Nick was getting at.

“So, how’d things go with you and Brett?”

Jarrod glanced down the hall in case anyone else was up to hear. “Maybe not out here, Nick.” He stood aside and ushered Nick into his room.

Nick crossed his arms and leaned against the closed door. “So?” he repeated. “You two kiss and make up last night?”

Jarrod tried not to look embarrassed. Yes, Nick knew he and Brett had been sexually involved, but he’d never gone into details. “Nick, you should know by now that I don’t usually kiss and tell.”

“I know.” Nick fixed him with a stern look. “I just don’t want you to set yourself up for another heartbreak. Did he say why he finally came? Or better yet, why he didn’t come before?”

“Yes, he did,” Jarrod said quietly and he gave Nick a reassuring smile. “I think there’s a future for us, Nick, I really do.”

Nick frowned, but then clapped Jarrod on the shoulder. “Just be careful, Pappy.”

“I will, Nick,” Jarrod promised. “Now can you let me get ready for breakfast?”

Nick chuckled. “I’ll try to leave some for you.”

Jarrod headed to the bathroom for a quick shave and quickly got dressed. He straightened his tie as he came down the stairs and tried to keep from whistling. He was happier than he had been in a long time; it was a beautiful sunny morning and he had Brett in his life again.

There was a knock at the door when he reached the bottom of the stairs. Wondering who it might be this early in the morning, Jarrod went to answer it. A tall thin man was standing there.

“Jarrod Barkley?” he asked.

“That’s right.”

Jarrod waited for the man to state his business.

“My name is Monroe.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, you don’t know me. I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes, someplace where we, ah, won’t be disturbed?”

Jarrod wasn’t about to let someone into his family’s home without knowing why they were there. “What about?”

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a small red folder. “Secret Service,” he said as he showed Jarrod his credentials.

“Come in, Mr. Monroe.” Jarrod wondered what the government might want with him as he invited Agent Monroe inside. He’d done some work with the Secret Service during the war, but that had been years ago. Monroe stopped in the foyer and looked around. Jarrod gestured towards the door that led to the library. “This way, please.”

Monroe removed his hat and walked in the indicated direction. “It’s a beautiful home, Mr. Barkley.”

“Thank you.” Jarrod hoped Monroe would get to the point without any more small talk as he showed the man to the library and closed the door behind them.

As Jarrod hoped, Monroe got right down to business, but it wasn’t concerning anything he could have ever guessed. “Mr. Barkley, you’ve got a good friend visiting with you name of Brett Schuyler. Now don’t confirm or deny it, just let me do the talking.” Jarrod just looked at him and wondered what was going on. “He was moving around quite a piece ‘fore he came here. I know, ‘cause I’ve been travelling that same route, not that he knows that. I wouldn’t be much good at my job if he did.”

Monroe smiled, Jarrod thought in an attempt to get some sort of reaction from him. But he wasn’t considered one of the best in a courtroom because he let his thoughts show. “Interesting thing about Mr. Schuyler’s travels, though.” Monroe reached into his pocket as he spoke. “Every place he’s been, New Orleans, Cheyenne, Santa Fe, San Antone,” he pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Jarrod, “they’ve had a flock of these.”

Jarrod took the $10 bill and looked it over, not sure what Monroe was getting at. “Well, what about it?”

“Well, it looks so good, it’d take an expert to tell it wasn’t.”

Jarrod looked back at the money he was holding. No, he just couldn’t believe Brett would be a part of something like that. He folded the bill and handed it back. “You’d better start travelling a different route, Mr. Monroe.” He moved to show Monroe the door. “You’re trailing the wrong man.”

“Mr. Barkley…” The tone in Monroe’s voice made Jarrod pause and he turned back to Monroe. “I got my family back east, little place in Virginia.” He tucked the money back into his pocket. “It’s been over a twelve month since I’ve seen them. I don’t like it. But when I believe I’m right about a man, I stay with him until I catch him.” Monroe seemed so sure that it gave Jarrod pause. He hadn’t seen Brett in almost twelve years after all and prided himself on giving both sides of a story a fair hearing, even though he didn’t think Brett could have changed that much.

Jarrod walked back over to the desk. “All right Mr. Monroe, I’ve heard your suspicions.” He leaned back on desk and crossed his arms. “Now suppose you give me your evidence.”

“I don’t have any.”

If this were a court of law, Jarrod would have let his case rest. But Monroe was so sure, Jarrod felt he needed to lay out his own evidence. “Mr. Monroe, Brett Schuyler and I went through law school together. We roomed together, ate together, boned from the same books together.” Slept in the same bed together, shared each other intimately. “I know him as well as I know myself.”

Monroe didn’t look convinced. “Well now, it’s been quite a while since you’ve seen him. Now what is it he’s been doing, did he tell you?”

Confident in his case, Jarrod answered, “He did. Land, cattle, shipping…”

“Oh?” Now it was Monroe who looked more confident. “I never heard that he signed a deed, or looked at a herd or boarded a ship, but if you are confident he is not my man, then you won’t mind helping me.”

Jarrod’s certainty was subtly shaken. An agent of the Secret Service would have access to that sort of information, and being in land, cattle and shipping himself, Jarrod knew there would be a paper trail for any of those enterprises. “And just what is it you’d like me to do?” he asked as he stood.

“Well now, Schuyler knows he’s safe here as your guest, you should have easy access to his belongings. There’s a good possibility he’s got that money concealed in his bags.”

That would be a complete violation of a guest and a friend and Jarrod didn’t want any part of it. “I’ll show you the door.”

“I know, I know, it’s a Judas trick, call it what you like. But I wouldn’t ask this of a man’s best friend if I didn’t think it was necessary.” Jarrod saw sincerity and a hint of regret in Monroe’s eyes and his resolve wavered. “I’m staying at the hotel in Stockton.” Monroe opened the door and let himself out.

Jarrod stood for a moment, frozen by his conflicting emotions, not sure what he believed or what he was going to do. Finally following, he reached the foyer as the door shut behind Monroe. He walked to the dining room, intent on joining his friend and the family for breakfast before he thought any more about Monroe’s accusations.

“Morning.” His stomach tightened uncomfortably when he heard Brett’s voice. Pausing at the doorway, Jarrod watched his friend and lover talking and laughing with his mother and sister as they served out breakfast and all he could think of were Monroe’s words. If you are confident he is not my man, then you won’t mind helping me. If he were that confident about Brett, though, nothing would have shaken Jarrod’s faith in his friend. Jarrod suddenly knew he wouldn’t rest easy unless he knew for sure.

Jarrod went back through the foyer and up the stairs. He paused at the door before going inside Brett’s room and shutting it firmly behind him. Looking slowly around the room, Jarrod’s gaze was drawn to the bed with its bunched up pillow and tangled sheets. Memories of last night assaulted his mind, of Brett’s body writhing beneath his, of Brett penetrating him and of the incredible heights they reached together.

Jarrod ruthlessly pushed those images away and focused on Brett’s suitcase that was open on the bed. He looked through Brett’s belongings and found a wrapped box. Pulling it out, he read the tag, “for Victoria Barkley, with affection Brett Schuyler.” Jarrod felt an incredible amount of guilt for doubting Brett. He put the box back and turned to leave the room.

That was when he noticed the case sitting under the table. He’d gone this far, he might as well see it through so there was no lingering uncertainty. Jarrod pulled out the case, set it on the table and opened it. Looking through the neatly folded clothes, he noticed the valise had a false bottom. Jarrod held his breath as he pulled it up and his heart stopped when he saw the bundles of bills tucked in tight rows. Why would Brett go through all the trouble to hide the money unless… Jarrod refused to go there, at least until it was proven. He pocketed a couple bills, carefully replaced the bottom, tucked the valise back under the table and quietly left Brett’s room.

Jarrod didn’t know how he made it through breakfast. He said farewell to the family and to Brett with a promise to try to be back before it was too late so he could show Brett around the ranch before dinner and didn’t really remember the ride to town. He spent most of the morning in his office, trying to talk himself into believing in Brett and not taking the money to Monroe, but in the end, he had to know. He asked at the hotel desk for Monroe’s room number, went up the stairs and knocked on the door.

He heard a loud, “Yes?” and entered the room, closing the door behind him.

Monroe folded the paper he’d been reading when he saw who it was. “Oh, Mr. Barkley. You’re just in time for a fine lunch. Come on in, come on in and pull up a chair. I’ll send down for another portion.”

“No thanks.” Jarrod wasn’t in the mood for socializing. He just wanted to get it over with. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out the bills he’d taken from Brett’s suitcase, tossed them on the table without a word and walked away.

“Hyatt, come in here,” Monroe called. Jarrod glanced at the bald man who came in from the adjoining room and stared blankly at one of the paintings on the wall as he went over to Monroe, trying not to listen but unable to do so. “Take a look at these.”

“It’s in the border design they usually ¹come a cropper,” Monroe said and Jarrod reckoned he was explaining how they could tell counterfeit from real money. “Course, some are fancier than others. Genuine engraver, he don’t mind how much time he puts in designing that lacy border there. Of course the counterfeiter’s inclined to get a bit more impatient, wants to get his hands on some real money. Especially when most folks can’t tell the difference between a counterfeit and the real thing, and the fact that most banks print their own money.” He turned back to Hyatt. “You find a flaw?”

“No, nothing counterfeit about these.” Jarrod turned as Hyatt continued. “These are all genuine.”

“Give me the glass.” Jarrod walked over as Monroe inspected the money, vindication overshadowing the guilt of doubting Brett. “Well, now.” Monroe set down the magnifying glass and looked at Jarrod. “He’s smarter than I thought.”

“Or maybe you’re just a little too eager to find a suspect, Monroe.” Jarrod gathered up the money and tucked it back into his pocket. “Now with all due respect to the Secret Service, I’d appreciate it if you’d take you and your suspicions right out of this valley.” He walked out the door, but Monroe’s voice followed him.

“Mr. Barkley, I still feel I’m right about your friend. I’m gonna stay with him ‘til I get…”

Jarrod slammed the door and cut off the rest of his words.

Even though his faith in Brett had been vindicated by Hyatt’s pronouncement, Jarrod still couldn’t shake the slight doubt that caused him to invade Brett’s privacy or the guilt that he could ever doubt his friend. He came up with make work so he wouldn’t have to go back to the ranch, be alone with Brett and have his lover realize something was wrong. He finally arrived at the ranch in the late afternoon to find Audra in the buggy and Victoria taking the lines from Ciego. He swung out of the saddle and walked over as the stableman took his horse.

“Oh, Jarrod, I’m glad you’re here,” Victoria greeted. “Audra and I are going to pay a call on Iva since she’s laid up with that sprained ankle. Your brothers sent word they won’t be in for dinner, so I suggested to Brett that the four of us meet in town if that’s all right by you.”

“That sounds fine.” Jarrod leaned over, kissed her cheek and gave Audra a smile. “Maybe you could reserve us a table at the Alhambra Club for, say, 7:30?”

“Oh, could we, Mother?” Audra gushed.

Victoria smiled at her daughter indulgently. “Of course. Jarrod, we’ll see you and Brett there.”

Jarrod helped her into the buggy and watched them leave before turning to go into the house.

“Mr. Jarrod,” Silas greeted when he came through the door. “Mr. Schuyler asked me to tell you he had some business to take care of and would be back before supper.”

“Thank you, Silas.” Jarrod retreated into the library with an incredible amount of guilt for the relief he felt at not having to face Brett right away. He pulled out his half of the coin and turned it over in his hand.

I know him as well as I know myself. What he’d told Monroe came back to him. And if he still held the same beliefs and values as he did in law school, didn’t it stand to reason that Brett could do the same? At that moment Jarrod decided if he couldn’t believe it of himself, he couldn’t truly believe it of Brett and vowed to put his doubts away and just enjoy being reunited with the man he loved.

The sun had set when Jarrod and Brett arrived in town. Dismounting, they tied their horses to the hitching rail and Jarrod took out his watch.

“Ah, Brett my boy, I think we’re just a little bit early for the ladies. What do you say we step into my office over there and I’ll buy you a drink.”

Brett nodded his agreement. “All right.”

They walked in companionable silence across the street to Jarrod’s office. Looking at the sign outside, Jarrod wondered how it would look when they added the name, “Brett Schuyler”.

Jarrod unlocked the door, ushered Brett into the office and went to light the lamp. Brett looked around the office.

“Just like old times, isn’t it, Brett?” Jarrod shook out the match and dropped it into the nearby ashtray. “Remember that jug we used to keep at school?”

“Yeah. A lot of whiskey has gone over the table since then.”

Jarrod looked up at the wistful tone, but Brett was giving him one of those sexy grins as he leaned against a chair. He poured two glasses of amber whiskey. “It sure has.” A warm feeling went through him when their eyes met. “Yes sir, we’ve got a lot of years to catch up on you and me.” Jarrod handed a glass to Brett and walked over to perch on the side of his desk. “So, let’s hear from my well-travelled friend. I want an autobiographical report.” He told himself he wanted to know everything about Brett’s life, but deep down, he knew he was just trying to confirm Brett’s innocence.

Brett leaned an arm against the back of the chair. “Oh, I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

“Well, how about the seven seas, those ships of yours. Where did they sail? East Indies?” Jarrod took a sip of his drink.

“Among other places.”

Jarrod was captivated by the gold flecks in Brett’s eyes, accentuated by the glow of the lamp. “A modern Marco Polo, huh?” He felt a bit of envy at the places Brett must’ve seen. “Or maybe I should say Richard Dana, “Two Years Before The Mast”. You know he didn’t follow his law career either or get rich on his ships, but you…”

Brett came around to sit in the chair. “Well, yes,” and Jarrod’s breath caught at the seductive gleam in Brett’s eyes, “I did pretty well.”

Jarrod’s mind conjured up the image of Brett standing on the bluffs over San Francisco Bay with the wind ruffling his sandy hair. “Y’know, I can see you now with a spyglass up to your eye, watching your ships come in bulging with riches from the Orient. What were their names?” Jarrod drained the last of the whiskey from his glass.

“Oh, they were just chartered, Jarrod.” Jarrod wondered at the uncomfortable look on Brett’s face as he looked at his glass. Maybe Brett hadn’t done as well as he’d implied. “The Lotus, The Condor…” Brett took a long drink.

“Clipper ships?” Jarrod couldn’t quite end the conversation there.

Brett shook his head. “Steam.”

“Oh sure, they’re faster, more profit, huh?” Jarrod decided to stop talking about shipping and move on to something that Brett might seem more optimistic about. “Then what? You just traded it all for land and cattle?”

“One or the other, I don’t remember,” Brett said dismissively.

“Oh come on, boy,” Jarrod cajoled, “jog your memory.”

“Land first, I think.”

“When? What year?”

Brett stared at him steadily. “What is this Jarrod? A cross-examination?”

Jarrod suddenly realized what he was doing. He was cross-examining Brett as a way to assuage his conflicting feelings. “I guess it kind of sounds like that, doesn’t it?” he said, trying to make light of the situation. Getting up, he went over to pour himself another drink, wondering how to apologize to Brett.

“Say, I’ve some money I want to deposit in town.” Brett abruptly changed the topic but it didn’t make Jarrod feel any better.

“I’ll introduce you at the bank in the morning.” It was the least he could do for his friend.

“Fine. It’s better than keeping it in the false bottom of my valise.”

Somehow, Brett admitting the hidden money made Jarrod feel worse and more relieved at the same time and he knew he had to make Brett the offer he’d been wanting to ever since he arrived.

Jarrod walked back over to the desk. “Y’know, Brett, if you decided to practise law out here,” he perched on the desk and made sure his knee brushed Brett’s, “you won’t be starting from scratch, I can promise you that. As a matter of fact, I’d be glad to have you come in with me.”

“Oh, Jarrod…” Brett looked down, at a loss for words.

“Now you think about it,” Jarrod insisted.

Brett looked up and their eyes locked. Jarrod’s heart started to race and he leaned over to take the glass from Brett’s hand. Placing both glasses on the desk, Jarrod got to his knees in front of Brett and pulled his head down for a long kiss. Brett’s hands twined in his hair and Jarrod tried to memorize every bit of Brett’s mouth. “Maybe I should lock the door,” he said huskily when they broke apart.

Brett nodded. “Maybe you should.”

Jarrod got to his feet and went to lock the door. When he turned around, Brett was leaning back against the desk. “Maybe you should close the shades as well.” Jarrod took his time in making sure the large window was completely closed and this time when he turned back, Brett had already stripped off his jacket and shirt.

Jarrod walked up to him slowly, drinking in the sight of Brett’s bare chest. Whatever his lover had been doing, it had kept his body in top condition. Jarrod ran his hands slowly over the well-defined muscles, taking his time to play with the slowly hardening nipples before he moved his hands down Brett’s belly to the front of his pants. He’d been so hungry for Brett the previous night that he hadn’t taken the time appreciate just being able to touch him. Jarrod’s fingers slowly traced the skin above Brett’s waistband and the shiver that went across Brett’s skin sent a tingle through Jarrod as well.

“Jarrod…” Brett moaned.

“Shh,” Jarrod whispered, his lips brushing against Brett’s neck. “Let me enjoy you.” His hands unbuttoned Brett’s pants as he savoured the taste of Brett’s skin. He tugged off his lover’s pants and bent down to remove his own boots and pants all the way before standing back up. Encircling Brett with his arms, Jarrod pushed his hard cock against Brett’s and sighed in contentment. “Nothing matters to me except for the fact that you’re here,” he breathed in Brett’s ear. “I’d love to know every detail of what you did while we were apart, but it doesn’t really matter.”

Brett wrapped his legs around Jarrod and thrust up against him. “God, Jarrod, you feel good.” His fingers dug into Jarrod’s back. “It’s so amazing to be with you again.”

Their swollen cocks strained against each other, their breathing grew more laboured and soon their seed was mingling with the sweat on the groins and bellies. Brett rested his forehead on Jarrod’s shoulder.

“We should probably clean up,” he murmured. “Don’t want to keep your mother and sister waiting.”

Jarrod chuckled and kissed Brett as he moved away. “I’ll grab some water and a towel.” Jarrod’s heart felt easier and he managed to convince himself his doubts about Brett had been banished for good.

A/N:
¹ come a cropper – fail badly
²A graduate of Harvard Law, Richard Dana published “Two Years Before The Mast” in 1840, his memoirs of the time he spent on a sailing ship.
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A Time For Everything