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A Time For Everything	By : cowgirl65 Category: 1 through F > The Big Valley Views: 1444 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to destroy, and a time to build;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.”
-Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

The young man knocked on the door of Mrs. Campbell’s boarding house and waited. His hand involuntarily clenched on the travel-stained letter. He was tired, hungry and travel-stained from the arduous journey and ruthlessly pushed back the fear that there wouldn’t be a room waiting for him. If there wasn’t, there wasn’t, he told himself, and he’d just find another place to spend the night. But he dismissed his fears as foolish; the room had been guaranteed to him until the term started and he had made it with a couple days to spare.
The door opened. “May I help you?” A matronly woman gave him a stern once-over and he hoped she’d understand that he hadn’t had a chance for a real bath since he left New York.
“Mrs. Campbell?” She nodded curtly and he tipped his slightly beaten up hat. “My name’s Jarrod Barkley, ma’am.” He held out the letter. “My father arranged for lodgings here while I attend the university.”
Jarrod tried not to fidget while the woman perused the letter.
“You’re on the top floor,” she finally said, but didn’t move to let him in. “You’ll be sharing with another student and I expect you to abide by the rules. No drinking, no carousing, no gambling and no loose women. Coal is delivered on the first of the month and you’re expected to provide your own meals unless you arrange with me beforehand. Is that understood?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The rules weren’t any different than what he was used to at home, but Jarrod hoped his roommate was a good cook or they’d be getting tired of beans and flapjacks very quickly.
She handed him a key and stood aside. “Stairs right ahead, three floors up, room number 7.”
“Thank you.” Jarrod picked up his bags and headed up the narrow stairs. The place was clean and well kept. He had a twinge of homesickness for the cozy house he grew up in and even the enormous mansion that he still hadn’t quite gotten used to even after living there for the past three years. But the hope of a bath, even if he had to heat the water himself, and a real bed rather than a narrow hammock or wooden train seat almost made up for it.
Reaching the top floor, Jarrod walked down the narrow hallway until he found the door with a brass 7 on it. The dean of the university had written that Mrs. Campbell had taken in students for many years, the accommodations were modern and there was never any report of problems. His mother had still been concerned about her eldest being so far away, but the idea of a motherly landlady had helped put her mind at ease.
The door opened smoothly and the hall was flooded with light. Jarrod breathed a sigh of relief at the sunshine coming through the windows. He’d spent most of his life outdoors in sunny California and his biggest worry was that he’d be living in a small dark closet.
“You must be Jarrod Barkley.” A brown haired, hazel eyed young man got up from the window seat, came over and stuck out his hand. “Brett Schuyler.”
Jarrod shook his new roommate’s hand. His grip was sure and strong and the easy smile on his face caused Jarrod to think they would soon be friends. “Nice to meet you, Brett.”
Brett eyed him critically and wrinkled his nose. “You need a bath,” he stated bluntly.
“It’s been a long trip,” Jarrod explained sheepishly.
“That’s right.” Brett didn’t seem fazed. “Campbell said you’re from California. Did you come around the Horn or overland?” He grabbed his hat before Jarrod had a chance to respond. “There’s a laundry only a couple blocks away. If you got two bits, you can get your things cleaned and a bath to boot. You can tell me about your trip on the way there.”
Jarrod didn’t even need to think. He picked up the bag that held his clothes. “Sounds like heaven.”
“So how’d you get out here?” the genial young man asked as they walked.
Jarrod thought back over the weeks and wished a transcontinental railroad was more than still a dream. “ I took a ship to the new railroad across the isthmus of Panama, took the train across the isthmus, then sailed up to New York before taking a train to St. Louis, so…” It had been just after his mother’s birthday when he left Stockton and that meant the trip had taken… “Almost two months.” At least it was less dangerous than the trip around Cape Horn or the almost four months immigrants took overland on the California Trail.
Brett whistled. “And I thought a week on just a train was long. You must either be crazy or desperate to get away from home.”
“If I could’ve gotten a law degree closer to home, I would have,” Jarrod said defensively. He didn’t want to give Brett the idea that his family was anything less than supportive of his decision to attend St. Louis University.
Brett laughed and slung an arm around Jarrod’s shoulders. “Crazy then. We’re gonna get along just fine, Jarrod.”
Once at the laundry, Jarrod handed over his spare clothes and was shown to a steaming tub. He stripped to the skin, stepped into the steaming water and sighed in contentment. Relaxing, Jarrod let his mind drift back to when he’d announced his intention to study law to his family. He knew there would be objections; his father always talked about the two of them running the ranch together and he didn’t think anyone’s mother would be happy that her son would be at least 2000 miles away. But after seeing how careful his father was when making deals and knowing how easy it was for an unscrupulous man to word a contract to cheat someone out of his life savings, Jarrod knew he had to be a lawyer.
He’d done careful research and after a long evening of debate, his parents finally agreed to let him go to St. Louis University to study law. Jarrod didn’t actually need their permission, he was seventeen and old enough to make his own decisions. But he loved and respected his parents and it set his heart at ease to know he had their blessing.
Everyone else thought he was crazy, though, and Jarrod smiled to himself as he relaxed deeper into the hot water when he recalled Brett saying that very thing. He could have just read law with a local lawyer, but Jarrod wanted to be more than a glorified clerk. He wanted to be as well-read as Thomas Jefferson, John Adams and other great men he admired. Even he thought he was slightly mad at times during the long trip east, but now he was finally here and hoped it had all been worth it.
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A Time For Everything