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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
- 7
- 8
- 9
Jarrod felt a bit better when he woke up, but the bright sunshine and the sounds of birds from outside made the darkness in his mind seem that much heavier. Having Nick’s acceptance meant the world to him, but that didn’t change the things he’d done and allowed to be done to him. But somehow, there was a glimmer of hope. He hadn’t died; he’d been given a second chance and he’d be committing a greater wrong to squander it. Jarrod didn’t know how, but he swore to himself that he’d do what he could to atone for his sins.
Hearing a raucous noise close by, he smiled when he saw Nick fast asleep in the chair by the bed, his feet on the mattress and his head tipped back. Nick didn’t usually snore, but in that awkward position, he probably couldn’t help it. He was bound to be sore when he woke as well and Jarrod knew he owed it to his brother to go on, no matter how painful that might be.
“Hey, Nick,” he said softly. Nick gave a snort and woke up, blinking.
“Hey, Jarrod, how’re you feeling?”
“A bit better.” He was able to push himself up without getting too dizzy.
Nick stretched, grimaced and rubbed his neck. “Got to get more comfortable chairs out here,” he groused and Jarrod chuckled in spite of himself. “That’s a good noise to hear,” Nick told him softly. “Haven’t heard enough of it lately.” He reached over to grab Jarrod’s hand. “But enough of that for now. I’m gonna step outside and see if we get something other than jerky soup for breakfast.” Jarrod wrinkled his nose and smiled when Nick laughed. Then his expression got serious. “You stay put,” Nick ordered with a jab of his finger before he went outside.
Jarrod leaned his head back with a sigh. Nick was doing a good job of hiding his disappointment but Jarrod didn’t believe that his brother could be anything other than severely disappointed in him. If Nick could put on a good face for him, he couldn’t do anything less.
It wasn’t long before Nick came back empty handed. “Nothing,” he complained. “I hate to ask this, but if you’re up to it, why don’t we head up to Snider’s Creek? At least there’s fish and we can take the gear that’s here.” Nick looked at him hopefully. “The weather should be good.”
Even if he’d been so inclined, Jarrod wasn’t going to argue. Whatever Nick wanted he was going to get. “I should be fine, Nick.” Jarrod winced as he pushed himself to his feet and was lucky Nick had quick reflexes when he almost fell over.
“Yeah, right,” Nick said, hanging onto Jarrod as he waited for the dizziness to pass. “You’re gonna have to ride double with me.”
“I’m causing you nothing but trouble, aren’t I?” Jarrod said quietly.
“You’d better believe it,” Nick shot back and then he added, “But you’re worth every bit of it, Jarrod. C’mon, sit back down while I get the gear together.”
Jarrod did as he was told. Nick tossed him a shirt he found and Jarrod fumbled the buttons closed while he watched Nick gather up blankets, groundsheet, canteens and anything else he thought might be useful. Fishing wasn’t going to be much fun with just hook and line, but then again, this wasn’t going to be for pleasure. But he did raise an eyebrow when Nick tucked the two bottles of whiskey he found into the bedroll.
Nick noticed. “I don’t know about you, but reckon I’m gonna need a few before all’s said and done. I’m just gonna saddle up and then I’ll give you a hand.”
When Nick came back in, he helped Jarrod to his feet. “Sorry about the shirt,” he apologized when he noticed how badly the one he found fit.
“Don’t worry about it.” If Jarrod guessed right, Nick tearing up his shirt had likely saved his life.
It took all of his strength and not a little from Nick to get on the horse and he was grateful for the steadying arm around his waist as they started moving, Jingo trailing behind. Having Nick’s support, the easy gait of the horse and the stillness of the day worked together to lull Jarrod into a restful doze. He almost didn’t believe they were at the creek when Nick pulled the horse to a stop and announced, “We’re here.”
Jarrod waved Nick’s hand away after sliding to the ground and even though he was a little unsteady, he made his way to the ring of stones they used as a fire pit. There was still ample wood around and Jarrod decided he should make himself useful. “If you leave the gear, I’ll set up camp while you get us some fish,” he offered. Nick eyed him warily and Jarrod knew he was worried. “I’ll be fine, Nick,” he promised. “I won’t do anything… stupid.” The worry on Nick’s face lessened but didn’t go away entirely. “If I need help, I’ll yell.”
Nick hesitated another moment before giving in. “All right,” but it wasn’t lost on Jarrod that Nick made sure he had both of their firearms and took a bundle with him that Jarrod thought was where Nick placed the knives he took from the line shack. Nick was right; there was no reason to trust him. He would have to earn it back and even though he was still weak and his arms hurt like the devil, Jarrod soon had their gear unpacked, a tidy blaze going in the firepit and started a pot of coffee with the water in the canteen.
“Jarrod, you didn’t have to do all that,” Nick scolded when he returned with half a dozen cleaned fish.
Jarrod just shrugged. “Might as well earn my keep.”
Nick grabbed the frypan and squatted down by the fire. “You’ve got nothing to prove to anyone,” he said as he laid out the fish in the pan, “especially to me. You’ve always had my back, I’m just repaying the favour.”
The fish started sizzling and soon they were eating and drinking the hot coffee. Jarrod found that he was actually hungry and it didn’t take him long to clean his plate. But once Nick returned from washing the dishes, he knew he wouldn’t be able to put off the hard questions and harder answers any longer.
But before he said anything, Nick poured a generous amount of whiskey in both cups and handed one to Jarrod. “And don’t tell me it’s too early,” he scolded. “I’ve seen you hit the scotch a lot earlier than this.”
Jarrod didn’t have anything to say to that. He knew he’d been using alcohol to numb the pain and guilt and wasn’t surprised that Nick noticed. Swirling the liquid in his cup a few times, he tossed back the contents in one gulp.
Nick refilled his cup. “Be careful. It’s gonna hit you a lot harder with all the blood you lost.”
“Well, maybe then I can forget,” Jarrod replied heavily. “At least for a little while.”
Nick stared at his own drink for a moment before draining it. “Reckon you got a point,” he said as he poured more whiskey. “So do you want to talk or should we just get stinking drunk?”
He didn’t really want to talk, but Nick already knew and Jarrod owed him a complete explanation. “No reason we can’t do both.”
“Works for me.”
They both sipped their whiskey and were silent for a long while.
Nick spoke up first. “So you’d rather be with a man that a woman?”
Jarrod gave a cynical snort, but at least his brother had started with something relatively easy. “Nick, I don’t even know any more. When I was in the war…” He paused, not sure how to continue but Nick did for him.
“Yeah, I know. There were a couple tentmates in my unit who… enjoyed each other’s company.” Nick shrugged. “Couldn’t blame them. You took what comfort you could.”
Jarrod nodded, emptied his cup and held it out. Nick obliged and he took another sip. His brother was right; Jarrod already felt a mild buzz and knew if he kept drinking, he was probably going to pass out and wake up with a nasty hangover. But the alcohol was making it easier to talk and he figured it would be a small price to pay if he was able to get things off his chest.
“It was more than simple comfort, Nick.” He took another drink. “Father took me to a brothel in San Francisco not long before I signed up. I couldn’t admit to myself then that I would’ve rather had the doorman take me to bed than the woman Father arranged for, but all it took was for my tentmate to grope me one night after having a little too much corn.” Jarrod couldn’t believe he was really having this conversation with Nick and that Nick wasn’t beating him to a pulp. But one look at his brother only revealed patience and caring.
“I can’t say I understand, Jarrod, but it’s the same as me not understanding why you’d want to work in an office rather than out on the range. Reckon it’s who you are.” Nick raised his cup in a toast. “And you’re a damn fine brother.”
Jarrod smiled a little at that and joined Nick in the toast. “And I don’t deserve a brother like you,” he added as Nick poured more whiskey to the cups.
Nick’s eyes got a devilish gleam. “Should I keep my ears open in case we hire anyone who has the same preferences?”
Jarrod spluttered and almost choked. Nick playing matchmaker was not something he expected and he started to get annoyed. Did Nick really think setting him up with another man would make it all go away? “I don’t know, Nick. Right now I don’t ever want to have sex with anyone again.”
They drank in silence for a few more minutes. Jarrod tried to settle his simmering temper, but even though he knew Nick was trying, there was no way anyone could ever understand what happened or his fear that he might be as despicable a creature as Hannibal Jordan.
“Must’ve been rough to make you feel that way,” Nick finally said.
“Rough?” Jarrod snapped angrily. Yes, Nick was only being sympathetic, but the whiskey added to the strain of the situation made his temper boil over. “You call a cock shoved down my throat until I passed out rough? How about being tied up and raped by at least five of Jordan’s ‘associates’ one after another? And you know what, Nick? I started to like it! I’m just like him and you have no fucking clue!” The distressed look on Nick’s face made him immediately regret his outburst. “Sorry, Nick,” he apologized softly. “I know you’re just trying to help.”
Nick looked at him ruefully. “But you’re right, I don’t have a clue.”
Jarrod just shook his head and stared into his cup. “That’s the worst of it, y’know. That I started to like it. That’s why I…” He held up his bandaged arms. “I didn’t want the family to see me turn into a man like Jordan.”
“Jarrod, you’ll never be like Jordan,” Nick insisted. “Would a selfish bastard like that sacrifice himself to protect his family? I don’t think so.” He reached out and placed a hand on Jarrod’s arm. “You’re a good man, Jarrod, the best. You just need to stop being so stubborn and ask for help sometimes.”
Jarrod snorted. “That’s calling the kettle black, isn’t it?”
“Reckon you’re right again,” Nick said, chuckling. His face grew more serious. “I can’t understand why you didn’t call a stop to it though. Once everything settled down and we got a handle on everything after Father died.”
Heaving a heavy sigh, Jarrod answered, “Remember when Audra was kidnapped? I tried to arrange for everyone to be protected, told Jordan I was done and he managed to get to her anyhow.”
Nick was silent and Jarrod wished he could help his brother understand, but he was also glad Nick never really could.
He was relieved when Nick changed the subject by taking his arm. “Don’t think you’re feeling much pain right now, big brother. How about I take a look, make sure everything looks okay?”
“Might as well.” Jarrod drained his cup again, set it down and stretched out his arms. “Do what you need to.” He winced when Nick uncovered the inflamed skin. “I’m sorry, Nick.”
“Just talk to me next time you get that low, okay?” Nick grabbed the canteen and washed Jarrod’s arms. “Sorry about the stitches.”
“You did good.” Jarrod didn’t think they were any worse than any other time he’d been stitched up and he was glad Nick took care of him rather than anyone else knowing. “Thanks for doing this for me, Nick.”
“Anytime, Jarrod, just don’t make me do it again.”
“You have my word.”
Nick bandaged his arms again and sat back. “So now what?”
The whiskey was really starting to hit him. Jarrod knew he should have an idea what Nick was talking about, but he couldn’t quite focus. “Now what what?” He could swear Nick was amused.
“Well, you were worried about Jordan’s reaction once you were gone,” Nick explained. “Reckon I just want to know if you’re planning to keep seeing him, if you’re gonna call the whole thing off or if I should just go beat him to a bloody pulp before I shoot him.”
That brought some clarity back to Jarrod’s thoughts. He hadn’t thought about it; he’d just thought he would be dead and not have to worry about Jordan any more. Jarrod winced. He’d tried to take the coward’s way out and leave everything for Nick to deal with, not something that a man professing to love his family did. And there was no way he’d let Nick face a murder charge just to protect his supposed honour. “I suppose I’ll just have to keep up my end of the deal,” he said, his gut clenching at the thought of Jordan viciously fucking him god only knew how with no end in sight.
“Jarrod, that’s not what I meant,” Nick snapped. “I meant what are we going to do stop that bastard? If you want to go back to his bed that’s your choice, but if you want to fight him, he doesn’t stand a chance with the two of us standing together.”
Jarrod’s head was spinning, partially from the relief of knowing Nick had his back and partially from all the whiskey he’d consumed. “Nick…” The world was starting to spin and he almost fell over when he missed the log he was sitting on, trying to support himself.
“Reckon you’ve had enough, Pappy.” Nick’s voice seemed far away. Gentle hands grabbed him and steered him over to their blankets. “I don’t envy your headache when you wake up.”
Jarrod wasn’t looking forward to it either, but as blackness overtook him, he was just grateful to be lying down and doubly grateful that he was able to call a man like Nick Barkley his brother.
- 7
- 8
- 9
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A Small Price To Pay