Aftermath

Oh, god, he couldn’t get out. He was trapped, his arms pinned and he struggled as the dark shape came nearer, reaching out to grab him, to violate him again. He thrashed wildly as he was held down, could start to feel the burning pain as the other forced his way inside---

Jarrod sat up abruptly and struggled out of the covers that had wrapped around him during his nightmare. His eyes darted around the darkened room in a panic and his harsh breathing slowed a little as he realized he was in his own room and there was no one with him. But he felt closed in and he desperately needed to get out of the trap the room that had been his sanctuary for so many years now seemed. He quickly dressed and went down the back stairs, through the kitchen and outside to lean against the house where he gulped in a huge breath of the cool night air. His racing heart finally slowed and his head began to clear.

Jarrod trembled. He still felt the ghost of hands roaming over him and felt a flush of shame at the thing that continued to invade his dreams. They’ll find out. He shuddered in terror. If I start screaming out loud… He quickly locked that thought down. No one would know. He wouldn’t wake anyone with his nightmares because he wouldn’t let himself fall asleep in the house where anyone could hear. Besides, he thought as he stole back up to his room and grabbed his bedroll out from beneath the bed, trying not to jump at the shadows, I might even be able to sleep better. He snagged his gunbelt from the bedside table and went back outside.

Jarrod found a secluded spot on the far side of the yard and settled in. He managed a couple hours of restless sleep before he heard the stirrings of the ranch waking around him. Quickly gathering his things together, he snuck back into the house, not wanting anyone to question what he was doing out there and didn’t notice the eyes watching from one of the upstairs windows.


Heath let the curtain fall as he turned away from the window and as he continued to get ready for the day, he heard the quiet click of the door closing when Jarrod returned to his room. He’d been worried when he returned home to find his big brother drawn and pale and after only getting a curt, “Fine,” from Jarrod when he inquired how he was doing, Heath asked Nick what had happened. Nick told him everything, not glossing over the details like he had with their mother and the blond cowboy had a sudden flashback to the months he’d been incarcerated in Carterson. Jarrod hadn’t been held for months, but he’d been alone where Heath had others to lean on, and Heath had no doubts his brother was going through the same kind of hell he had.

Heath was pretty sure he knew why Jarrod was coming back into the house with his bedroll under his arm and wondered how he could help his brother when Jarrod wouldn’t even talk to him. He’d tried after dinner the previous night, but Jarrod brushed him off and said he had some work to do up in his room, even though he hadn’t been to his office in days. He’d just have to make sure Jarrod knew he was there for him, Heath decided as he pulled on his boots and vowed to keep a close eye on his eldest brother.

*

Victoria watched with concern as Jarrod retreated up the stairs to his room right after dinner, something that had happened every night since Nick brought him home. Dr. Merar told them Jarrod would need a great deal of rest as he recovered from his injuries, but the worried mother was afraid it was more than that. The Jarrod she knew always had a smile for his family, ready with light-hearted teasing or a hug and a kiss for those he loved. He always looked forward to a game of billiards or cards after dinner, a time the Barkleys used to reconnect with one another while pursuing their own busy lives.

But the warm, loving man she had raised had been replaced with a wary, hard-edged individual who held himself away from everyone. He stayed mostly outside and saw them only at mealtimes where he spent more time pushing his food around his plate than he did eating. Victoria also noticed him cringe whenever one of them ventured to touch his arm or give him some kind of physical affection.

Victoria tried to tell herself it was just the pain that was making him act that way. Howard confided in her the extent of the injuries to Jarrod’s back and hand and she knew that Jarrod was doing his best to mask how much he was hurting. But her instincts told her it was something more. She had asked him, had let her eldest know that she was there to listen if he wanted to talk, but Jarrod just shook his head and told her he was fine before he again vanished upstairs.

Sighing as she joined her other sons in the library, Victoria was glad Audra was off on a tour of Europe with her Aunt Ruth and wasn’t there to see the state her beloved older brother was in.

“He isn’t joining us.”

Victoria shook her head at Nick’s statement. “No, he said to say goodnight and went upstairs.”

Nick slammed his hand against the felt of the pool table. “Dammit, how can we help him if he won’t talk to us?!”

“I don’t know, Nick.” Victoria tried to smile through the tears of frustration that threatened and Nick put his arm around her in an attempt to reassure.

Heath picked a ball off the table and rolled it in his hand carefully. “Reckon the only thing we can do is what we’re already doing.” At the confused expressions, he explained, “You can’t make a man talk about those things he doesn’t want to think about. We just gotta make sure to look out for him, make sure Jarrod knows how much we care. If he wants to talk, he knows we’ll listen.” Heath was quiet for a moment before adding softly, “Still got things I ain’t never talked about.”

Victoria reached over and took Heath’s arm to draw him closer. If anyone could understand what was happening with Jarrod, it was Heath. Her sons were all made of strong stuff and if Heath had successfully conquered his own demons, she told herself, there was no reason why Jarrod wouldn’t be able to do the same.