Blessed
Blessed is the influence
of one true, loving human soul on another.
(George Eliot)
It had been three week since the 'incident' in Green River. Life at Lancer was back to normal, or as normal as it is now that the son's of Lancer had come home. Murdoch closed the heavy ledger, the numbers were beginning to blur, and maybe he should do the books more often. Now the boys were home he did not need to spend as much time on the range. Not that he was ready to be turned out to pasture, but his work could be done closer to the hacienda.
He poured another cup of coffee from the big silver server, Maria or Teresa always kept it fresh when he was here at the house. Taking a careful sip, he turned to look out the great window behind his desk. Lancer spread out before him, a legacy he was building for the generation of Lancer's to follow.
He watched as a golden streak flew down the lane, he could hear the pounding of hooves as his younger son Johnny came into the yard with little regard to his rule of riding fast within the compound. Within seconds, the dust covered young man burst through the double doors, nearly breaking the glass as it hit against the wall.
Murdoch roared, "Johnny!" His admonishment held in his mouth, the boy was in a panic; Murdoch had never seen that in the face of this particular son. Cold, confident, in control, he had seen those emotions, but not stark panic.
Banging the china cup onto the desk, he grabbed his sons' shoulders, "Calm down boy." Shaking him once, the panic diminished. Realization replaced it, grasping his fathers' strong arms, "Murdoch, Dios. I need help, I tried...I did...Dios!"
"Johnny?" The young man looked up at the softer voice. "Tell me what happened, son."
Nodding, Johnny pulled himself up, control once again the ruler of his emotions. Stepping away from his father, "Cipriano and I was over ta the dry river bed with tha fencin' crew. Estupido, I shoulda shot tha stupid bastardo."
"Johnny, try and keep on track." Nodding once more to his father's more level head, "Cip was helpn' this...hand to string wire and the bas...hand let go and Cip was wrapped up in that devil wire. The men are brigin' 'em back in tha wagon, I gotta go get Doc Sam. Gotta tell Maria...I...Dios, I felt like a know nuthin' kid."
"Son he's your friend, I know Cipriano is like family, you are only feeling the pain of his hurting. Go tell Walt to ride and get Sam, I will tell Maria and Teresa to ready the guest room. You have to believe that Cip will be OK."
"Yeah... yeah you're right." Turning Johnny ran back through the doors to find Walt and send him for the doctor.
Watching Walt hell bent for leather ride towards town, Johnny felt drained, he felt like his legs would collapse under him. Then he turned to the west, waiting for the wagon carrying the Lancer Segundo and the man he secretly called tio (uncle).
It seemed like it took the wagon forever to make it to the hacienda, Johnny had walked a furrow in the yard, and Murdoch knew the boy had worried himself sick. He himself knew what the barbed wire could do to human flesh anyone who had worked with it knew its bite sometime or another.
Maria, Ciprianos cousin, stood on the patio wringing her hands Teresa adding her strength beside her. Even at her young age, the girl had seen what the wire could do.
Sam's buggy pulled into the yard. A ranch hand took the horse and buggy, Sam walked up to the waiting women black bag in hand.
He put his arm around Maria giving her a one armed hug, releasing her he smiled at the young woman beside the Lancer housekeeper.
Murdoch joined them as they all waited. Johnny kept up his pacing, his face a portrait of anguish. Waiting was not the ex-gunfighters strong suit, and he felt like he had failed his amigo, falling apart like some kid, hell he'd seen worse, he'd felt the devil wires' bite himself.
What happened to him, why did he fall apart? He was confused, and angry. Was he losing his edge? Hearing the rumble of the heavy wagon he closed his eyes and drew on Madrid, he could handle this; he could make sense of his shattered emotions. Madrid would put Johnny Lancer back together again.
He stayed back unmoving, chewing the end of his storm string. He let himself detach from the orderly unloading of the injured man and followed quietly behind the procession.
Watching from the corner of the room, he looked on as they lay the big man on the bed. Sam sent everyone from the room, but did not notice the young man pushed back against the wall. Maria and Murdoch helped the doctor remove the clothes so he could get to the cuts and pricks all over the man's body.
Johnny watched as the bloody shirt thrown on the floor landed with a distinct plop. Cipriano's blood had soaked through the material. Such a strong man, a proud man, but no one was strong enough to stand up to the torture of the wire. Revealing the wounds Sam began to work, as he looked on Johnny wrapped his arms around himself, protecting himself from the pain in the room. Color left his face, but Madrid stood, in control, cold, detached.
Cipriano opened his eyes, the pain of el medicos gentle treatment was almost too much, but he had had worse, his prima, though concerned, was efficient in her aid to el medico.
Eyes that moved around the room he saw the boy, the emotions that showed on his usually smiling face that were of anger, fear, and pain. Then when blue eyes met dark pain filled eyes, Cipriano took in a breath. The blue eyes changed into cold, unfeeling, eyes. Madrid stared back, Madre Dios. He did not realize he had said it out loud, el medico Sam told him he was sorry, Cipriano raised his head, "No that is not it." He nodded in the direction of the far wall. "It is the boy."
Maria and Sam both turned, there by the wall was a man they did not know, a man who hid behind the younger Johnny Lancer. It amazed Sam how two people could reside in one body. He looked like the young man they all loved, but he was different, someone they would walk across the street to avoid.
Sam knew this man was dangerous he could feel it. Looking up at Murdoch he could see the man's face soften, Johnny's eyes were only on Cipriano, no one else mattered.
Murdoch straightened and walked over to his son, as he reached out to touch him, Johnny looked at his father's bloodied hands, color left the younger man's face, finally the anguished blue eyes turned up to see his father. "Come on son, let Sam see to Cipriano."
Johnny could feel himself moving, but he was void of any feeling, the big man's hand on his shoulder felt comforting, but he didn't want to feel comforted, he wanted...what?"
He was too tired to think, too much of an emotional train wreck, he needed to be away...run from this nothing feeling. Pulling away from his father, "I can do it..."
Murdoch stared after his younger son; he let him go and turned back to his friend. Torn between his need to help a friend and his desire to help his son he came back to stand beside the bed and nodded to the doctor and Cipriano.
"He'll be OK till we get you right old friend." Already the pain was too much and the large man was glad for the medicina that el medico gave him; he drifted off thinking of the blue-eyed Madrid he had seen in the form of his Juanito.
Teresa called out to Johnny as he rushed past her in the great room, he did not slow down or acknowledged her; she heard the big door slam as he left the hacienda. She was still learning about her 'brother,' that he was close to Cipriano, she knew. He had to feel sadness that the man was hurt, but Sam would fix him up.
She had seen something in his face as he rushed past. It was as if Johnny was not there, he was replaced by... she did not know how to put it into words, but not her Johnny. She wished Scott were here, he could always help the younger Lancer.
Walt and Frank two long time ranch hands of Lancer looked up as Johnny left the hacienda. Walt called out to the younger man; Frank put a restraining hand on his partners arm and shook his head. Looking closer Walt nodded. They had both seen Madrid in action, and this was Madrid on a single mission.
Johnny Madrid protected his friends, no one, but no one was beyond his judgment. Madrid was judge, jury and executioner, had always been since he picked up the gun. All he could see was the blood, too much blood, blood on the ground, on his friend on his own hands.
Being estupido will not be a good enough defense. Johnny smiled, but it was a cold smile, He would just have to beat that stupid out of Carl Poke. Poke that was enough to make you smile, cause he was going to do some poking alright, poke him till he couldn't stand, till he bled just as much as Cipriano.
The bunkhouse door flew open and banged against the wall. The crew inside, to the man, looked up startled. It was Johnny Lancer; then again, it was not. Some men had to look away unable to finger what they felt when they looked at the glacier blue eyes.
Carl Poke stood up, he was young, and this was his first ranch job. His family having come to the valley to start a new life, but times was hard and he had to find work to help feed his family. Ranching was difficult work, but it put food on the table.
Carl was sick at what had happened today, he liked the big Segundo, he was helping him learn the hard work of a ranch hand. The dang barbed wire had cut a furrow into his hand through the heavy gloves and he lost his grip. The other men told him it was an accident, could have happened to any of them, and at times had.
It just did not make him feel any better.
Manuel, another long time hand, tried to intercept the younger Lancer. He knew of Senior Johnny's past, and he knew Senior Cipriano was his amigo, and he knew Madrid when he saw him.
Putting out a hand Manuel stood in front of the patrons younger son, how he really wished the older son was here, Senior Scott could always talk the anger from his younger brother, " Senior Johnny, it was an accident, it could have happen..."
Manuel stopped, those cold eyes turned on him, 'Madre de Dios' but he felt his legs turn to water, he felt he could just pool onto the floor. He saw Frank and Walt come in behind Johnny, 'Dios he hoped he would live to see tomorrow.'
Johnny pushed past him, he never touched him, but the rage that poured from Madrid staggered him back.
Stopping in front of Carl, Madrid only stared at the man before him. He did not need words to let Carl know he was in big trouble with a capitol T.
Johnny watched the bandaged hand absorb the sweat from Carls' face. The once white wrapping was now soaked through with blood.
Blood, too much blood, Johnny wavered; Madrid retreated as Johnny Lancer emerged. Grabbing Carl's hand the ranch hand nearly wet himself. Taking hold of the injured hand Johnny took the dirty bandage off, the younger man hissed, "Why didn't you say something. Manuel, get some hot water and fresh bandages." Looking around him, he ignored the confused looks on the faces of the Lancer hands, "Pete, go to the hacienda and ask Ms. Teresa to bring her medical supplies out here."
Frank and Walt let out a held sigh; they had not wanted to tangle with Johnny Madrid.
Taking charge, the younger son had an affinity with the men, he was the patrons' son, but he sweated and toiled beside them. Senior Scott too got just as dirty, but he was the elder son and was treated as befit his station on the rancho.
Carl was surprised at the gentleness of the younger man, gone were the glacier blue eyes, in their place was the softer eyes of someone who really cared about another human being.
When Ms. Teresa entered the bunkhouse, Johnny stood aside, but did not leave her. A look from the young man cautioning the men to watch their mouths and actions was all it took for silence
"I've cleaned the wound, but Sam will have to stitch it up." Carl looked into soft, doe eyes, "Now you just sit here until Doctor Jenkins comes to put some stitches in. Keep that pad on it and your hand elevated."
Smiling she gathered up, her supplies and glanced at Johnny, "He'll be ok, come back to the hacienda with me?"
Johnny smiled, "Be there in a minute. Walt, help her back with her things."
Picking up her basket Walt tipped his hat to her, "Sure thing Johnny. Ms. Teresa." He waved her in front of him, and the men stood and made an opening for her.
Johnny stood with his head bowed, silent, and not moving. The men sat or stood just as quietly. Waiting, when Johnny was this quiet, you just waited.
Head coming up the young man put his hands on his hips and looked at Carl, "Lo siento, Carl. I know you didn't mean for this to happen, we can all agree that devil wire can sometimes just up and take a bite outta ya."
Turning to address the bunkhouse as a whole, "Lo siento fellas, got no excuse fer my bad behavior, guess the Ol' Man's right, jes need ta be taken ta tha woodshed once in a while." Low laughter started from around the men.
"I'd say that was a good acknowledgment of the fact." Scott Lancer leaned against the door jam, arms crossed. "I believe little brother; a Senor Cipriano would like to speak with you. By the way gentlemen, Doctor Jenkins said Cipriano will be OK, a few stitches, a few days in bed, and then he will be up and about, ready to ride herd on the lot of you."
Johnny smiled, Scott was the only one who could berate him in front of the men and live to tell it. Scott's face softened when he looked back at his brother.
"Come on brother let's let these men get back to whatever they were doing before Madrid made a visit."
Nodding his head Johnny moved towards his brother, as he went out the door he backhanded Scott on his stomach, not hard, just to let him know he appreciated his presence. Catching up to, the younger man Scott put an arm around Johnny's shoulders.
The bunkhouse crew let out held breaths, low laughs, and mumbled words. They all agreed it was good about their segundo and even better, that Madrid had left the building.
Johnny entered the room slowly, his father was there and Sam, on the bed was Cipriano white bandages bound his chest, cuts no longer bleeding on his arms. Looking into the man's face Johnny smiled.
Murdoch watched his younger son, gone was the confused kid, and in his place was Johnny Lancer, rancher, son, brother, friend.
"Sam." Johnny spoke softly, "Carl needs some stitchin' himself, the wire bit 'em pretty good." Sam gathered his bag, "Yes Teresa told me." As he moved past the younger man, Sam patted Johnny's arm, "Cipriano will be OK Johnny, small surface cuts bleed a lot, and the worse only took a few stitches."
Looking into the doctors eyes Johnny nodded, "Thanks Doc Sam."
Murdoch followed the doctor from the room, "I'll go with Sam son, see how Carl is." Not needing more words the father squeezed his son's arm and closed the door behind him.
Cipriano smiled up at his patrons younger son, "So Juanito did Senor Madrid have a good visit?" Johnny, head bowed grinned at his amigo, "Si Senor Madrid, el ya no aqui."
"Bueno." The Segundo said with a smile.
Johnny sat beside the bed of his amigo, and remained as the exhausted man slept. Murdoch, Teresa and Scott had all come in to relieve the young man from his vigil. Maria even came to offer food and rest, but Johnny stayed. He sat with the man into the night until the early morning light showed its face.
No fever dared show it self while the young man sat there. Knowing in his heart that Doctor Sam was right and the injured man would be all right, Johnny left the room.
Leaving the still quiet hacienda Johnny made his way to the barn. Quickly saddling Barranca, the compadres rode out into the early morning light.
Scott Lancer looked up as he heard hoof beats coming down the road, seeing the golden flash of the palomino and the rider slouched in the saddle, he knew his little brother had returned.
As Johnny slid slowly from his horse, he saw the approach of his brother. Ever since coming home to Lancer he delighted in the fact he had a brother, a big brother. He had always wanted someone older to help defend him from the bullies, someone to talk to about his fears, someone to give a care weather he lived or died.
"Well little brother, where have you been all day; we've been worried about you." Scott stood with arms folded over his chest. Johnny bore the intense looking over he got from his brother, saw the look of concern in the blue eyes.
"Rode the fence line up at the mesa, then did a little cleaning of Cutter's Creek. Pulled a couple of cows out of a sand pit..."
"OK, OK I got it you've been busy. Cipriano is back in his house, he has been asking for you." Scott took the reins of the horse, "Why don't you go wash up, get something to eat and go see him. I'll take care of Barranca."
Wiping a hand down his dirty, sweaty face Johnny nodded, "Thanks brother really appreciate it, and I am kinda smelly right now. My back is shakin' hands with the front could do with somethin' ta eat."
Scott watched his brother carefully as the younger man made his way to the hacienda, he noticed a limp that had not been there, and the slump of his shoulders that spoke of exhaustion. Shaking his head, Scott pulled the horse into the barn, "Come on Barranca, let's get you settled, then I'll go check on your friend, my brother."
The horse nodded his head up and down as if he understood his compadre needed his brother right now.
Scott however did not find his little brother in the bathhouse, or the kitchen table, what he found when he entered his brother's bedroom was a sound asleep, fully clothed, dirty Johnny Lancer.
Once more shaking his head Scott went about taking spurs and boots off, "So little brother this is how you cope with any problem. Work until you drop from shear exhaustion, when will you learn that's what families are for, what, as your older and wiser brother is for?"
Pulling a sheet up over the sleeping man Scott took a minute to study the face of his little brother, not yet nineteen but aged in experience than someone twice his age. Willing to give the shirt off his back for someone not as fortunate as he, in addition to give of his own self so freely to those in need, spoke volumes as to the goodness this young man had within him. Scott hoped their father had realized what a fortune they had what destiny had dropped on their doorstep.
Johnny roused, "Scott?"
"Yeah little brother, just sleep. We'll talk later."
A much mumbled 'OK' came from the lips now muffled in a pillow.
Patting his brother's shoulder, Scott walked across to close the drapes over the last of the sun's rays streaming thru the window. Checking once more on his brother, the older Lancer went to the door, stepped outside into the hall and quietly closed it.
He met his father standing outside in the hall, "How is he son?" Asking in a soft voice Scott had nearly never heard.
"Rode hard and hung up wet, in the vernacular of the west. I'm sure after a good sleep and a bath he will ready to tear into a side of beef, weather it's cooked or not."
"Well then son, let's go downstairs and tackle some ledger problems while our foundling gets some shut-eye." Following his father down the hall Scott smiled, there just may be hope for this floundering family yet.
The next morning found Johnny on the veranda taking a sip of the coffee he had made. Rising before the rooster crowed he had taken a bath, shaved, put his dirty clothes in the laundry in addition stood contemplating the sky as it took on its beauty in vibrant colors and the promise of a good day.
Hearing a heavy footfall behind him he did not turn, he knew that hearty sound, it was his father, up as early as the sun.
Clearing his throat Murdoch's rumble was low in the morning stillness, "Good coffee son. How are you feeling today?"
Turning he smiled at the older man, "I could run a footrace with one foot and win."
Murdoch had grown to love the smile his younger son could bestow on those he cared about, he was glad he was one of the few.
"Cip wants to see you when you've eaten breakfast, I know Maria has already started, she was a little put out that her coffee pot had been used prior to her arrival."
He smiled himself as he took a sip of the excellent coffee.
Johnny bowed his head, when he looked back up he was grinning, "'S ok, I'll get her a little present to sooth her ruffled feathers. What ya say we go in and welcome tha rest o tha family to this great day."
Putting an arm across his sons shoulders the two men walked in companionable silence to a bountiful breakfast.
Scott had to chuckle at his brother, the boy had his priorities, after breakfast he was going to check on Barranca, his horse, then on to Cipriano, and do whatever the older man needed done. Then saddle said horse, ride out to the Poke farmstead, and check on the young ranch hand that was to be off work for a least a week then light duties, as so ordered by Doctor Sam Jenkins.
Johnny rode up into the well-kept farmyard, chickens scratching in the yard scattered when the golden horse and his rider flew up and stopped in a cloud of dust. Lightly jumping from his horse he ground tied the animal and walked to the porch, which seemed to wrap around the whole house. A firm knock on the door and a tow-headed boy of about six opened it, eyes wide as he looked at the gun tied low on the mans hip, he turned and ran back into the house. Johnny at a loss for words stepped over the threshold, "Hello the house."
He heard footsteps rushing down the hall from the back of the house, "Just a minute..." A feminine voice called out. Appearing in the front room was a middle-aged woman, tucking a stray hair behind her ear she smiled at the young man, "How may I help you young man?"
Hat in hand, Johnny smiled back, "I'm Johnny Lancer, I came ta see Carl."
Feeling he, watched Johnny looked up the stairs and a young girl of about eight stared down, beside her a boy of about twelve beside her.
"Hello Mr. Lancer, Carl has told us so much about your ranch, we wanna thank you for giving him a job."
" Well ma'am Lancer is a workin' ranch ifn' he didn't measure up then he wouldn' be a workin'. How's he doin', I mean his hand and all."
"Doctor Jenkins has been out and his hand looks good, said at least another week then he can do some light work."
"That's good ta hear ma'am." A silence filled the room when Johnny said, "Ohh nearly forgot, Carl has some back pay, a little bit more ta tide 'em over till he get's back ta work."
Looking confused the woman stared at Johnny, "But Mr. Lancer Carl said he had already collected what was owed him, from your father."
Smiling Johnny pulled a wad of bills from his pocket, "Ma'am if ya would, every time you say Mr. Lancer, I look around ta see if my Old Man come up behind me, it's Johnny."
Motioning to her with the folded bills, "There's some extra money in there that the ranch crew took up ta help ya till Carl gets back on his feet."
The woman's eyes misted over, "Oh Mr. Lan...I'm sorry Johnny. You don't know how much this means to us, to Carl." She took the money and put it in her apron pocket. "Now where's my manners, can I offer you a drink. Sissy made some lemonade or I could..."
"No ma'am I'm just fine. Could you tell me where Carl is, thought he'd be around here close to the house."
"My husband Allen and Carl are clearing a field for planting. Mike." She called to the older boy at the top of the stairs. A light haired boy came down slowly from upstairs, coveralls a little threadbare but clean.
"Johnny, Mike will take you out to where my son and husband are working." Looking at her son, she gave him a look only a mother with a recalcitrant child could give, "Now you mind Mr. Lancer, and then when you've got him to your pa, get on back here to finish your chores.
Eyes drilling into the dark-haired Lancer, Mike nodded, "This way Mister." Johnny turned to follow the boy outside; he nodded to Mrs. Poke and put his hat back on his thick head of dark hair. He shot a smile to the young girl at the foot of the stairs the younger boy now beside her. As he turned, his eye caught the young woman coming from the kitchen, like her mother she tucked a stray hair behind her ear and joined the older woman, "Mother did you want to send some lemonade out to Carl and father?"
Remembering his manners, Johnny took the hat off his head once again, looking the young woman in the face Johnny swallowed, "Miss Poke, I'd guess?" The woman flushed and lowered her eyes. Mrs. Poke introduced her oldest daughter, "Johnny this is my daughter, Lillian." Smiling as she watched the red flush creep into her daughters cheeks. "Yes Sissy that would be a good idea if Johnny wouldn't mind."
Ms. Poke was certainly a looker, honey colored hair, eyes the color of green grass in the spring, clear skin, course Scott would say somethin' like porcelain skin, and a pert mouth with soft looking lips. Recovering Johnny nodded to the older woman, "Ah yes ma'am wouldn't mind, my horse is just outside..." Mike mumbled under his breath,
"Just where would it be." He smirked.
John 'accidentally' stepped back and felt the boy's toes under his heeled cowboy boots. He smirked himself, knowing the boy did not have on boots and his bare toes caught the vengeance of Johnny Lancer.
Yelping and holding his foot while hopping around on one foot Johnny was amazed the boy did not knock into something. Mike sent a glare to Johnny. Grinning just a little, "Oh sorry Mike didn't know you were standin' so close." Johnny said with all the sincerity in his voice he could muster.
Mrs. Poke put her hands on her hips, "Michael James Poke, stop all that caterwauling' and help your sister with the lemonade, 'speck Sissy can show Johnny the way. Then you get ta finishing your chores." Turning to her daughter, "If you will be riding on Johnny's horse go change into your dungarees, won't do for you to show the valley your bare legs,"
"Yes momma. Johnny I'll be right down." Picking up her skirts just enough to climb the stairs the young rancher caught a glimpse of fine turned ankles.
"Mrs. Poke I'll go on out and ready my horse." Johnny backed into the door as his eyes were in the retreating figure of Ms. Poke.
The little girl giggled and held a hand to her mouth, Mrs. Poke gave Johnny a knowing glance, and Mike returned with a jug of fresh lemonade. Thrusting the jug at Johnny the boy glared, "Here Mr. Lancer." Giving a smile, to the rancher, Johnny gave one back. Eyes locked the young boy soon stepped back. "I'll go finish my chores." Going around Johnny, the boy went out the door none to slow.
Johnny stood beside Barranca as he waited for the older Poke girl,
Sitting on the horses back was the younger boy, whose name he found was John or Jack the boy said he preferred, and Cynthia Marie, or Cindy, as she preferred. They felt like royalty sitting high up on that golden horse, as Johnny lead the horse around the yard, it was like sitting in a rocking chair. The younger children laughed with joy.
Hearing the screen door slam, Johnny looked up and saw Ms. Poke come towards him, her skirts changed into jeans as Teresa wore, a blue shirt clinging to her waist and higher to her...Johnny cleared his throat. She was a woman in all the right places.
He lifted the children down and mounted, putting a hand down to swing the girl up behind him, Mrs. Poke handed her daughter the jug. "Remind your Pa he's gotta stop early to go into town."
Smiling down to her mother, "Yes ma'am, I will." She clutched the jug in one arm the other she wrapped around Johnny's waist.
Mrs. Poke shook her head, she could almost remember being that young. However, she would not let her thoughts go to anything remotely romantic. No Johnny was the son of Murdoch lancer, biggest landowner in the valley, and Lilly was a sodbuster's daughter. They did look nice together. Smiling she watched her youngest children run to the gate after the golden horse, seems Johnny Lancer had a way with kids, except for one.
Mike Poke's eyes followed the horse and the riders. Johnny Lancer, big rancher. Well we would just see about that.
Johnny smiled at the small gentle hand holding his shirt at his waist. He could not feel the girl at his back except for the cool jug of lemonade pressed there. Her thighs bumped into his each step Barranca took it felt kinda nice. Nice, yeah remember that this was a nice girl, not like the women he knew about. About one mile out, they come across the Poke men, Carl trying to man handle a shovel around a big stump.
"You s'pose ta be doin' that Poke?" The young man looked up and saw his boss and sister on the golden horse. "Mr. Lancer what ..."
Swinging his right leg over the pommel of his saddle he slipped to the ground, turning around he took the jug from the girls' arms.
"Just stopped by ta make sure you were doin' what Doc. Jenkins told ya ta do. What do I find?"
"Pa couldn't do this his self." Johnny shoved the jug at Carl making him drop the shovel, "Here take this and go sit down under those trees." Turning back to the girl still on Barranca's back the rancher put his arms up to help the girl dismount. Putting her on the ground next to her brother, Johnny took the shovel up and started attacking the stump. "Mr. Lancer you don't gotta do that sir."
Looking at the young man, though older than himself, from under the brim of his Stetson Johnny said, "Mr. Lancer is my father, I'm Johnny, and I will do this. You ain't heard one o Doc. Jenkins' lectures. They ain't nice; he'll burn yer ears off then doctor 'em ta make ya scream like a little girl. No you jes go sit under that tree I'll help yer Pa."
With that, Johnny attacked the stump. He was about through when an older sun dried man came walking behind a team of horses, still in their traces.
"Well sir look at that, I leave my son to dig at a stump, and come back finding a stranger finishing the job." Glancing at his son under a tree relaxing while this boy was working began to irate the farmer.
Giving the older man a disarming smile Johnny tipped his hat back to fall down his back held by the storm straps. Shoving a gloved hand out, "Johnny, Mr. Poke, came by ta see Carl; he shouldn't be gettin' that hand dirty ol' Doc. Sam would have his hide. I like a good sweat, makes a man feel alive when the body aches after a good day's work."
Allen Poke took in the young man as he shook the offered hand, "You don't dress like a sod buster." He said letting Johnny's hand fall back to wrap around the shovel.
Johnny took in the measure of the older man, hard like the land, but fair minded, he could tell that from just the words he used. "I can do hard work, do it everyday. Course herdin' cow's aint' like pullin' a stump."
Carl walked up to his father and boss, "Pa this here's Johnny Lancer, my boss over ta the ranch."
Allen looked askance to his son, "You lettin' your boss do your work?"
Johnny stepped in, "Mr. Poke I offered, well I kinda pushed him outta tha way 'sides I 'bout got this here varmint."
The young woman spoke up, "Momma sent some cool lemonade out and to remind you about town."
Seeing his daughter for the first time, "Well then let's all go sit a spell and sip some of that fine lemonade, Mr. Lancer..."
"Sir, my father is Mr. Lancer, please just Johnny." Mr. Poke nodded his head, "Alright son, Johnny it is. Let's get that drink."
Johnny enjoyed the lemonade and the company, the Poke is being fine people. Johnny almost had to pull his gun to convince Mr. Poke to go on and take care of his business in town. He told him with a smile that Carl could supervise the stump removal.
Shaking his head, "Never seen the like, a high and mighty rancher doin' sodbuster work." Johnny grinned, "Who do ya think removes stumps at Lancer?" Allen clapped a hand on the young man's shoulder, "You're a good man Johnny Lancer, and if I see your father I'll tell him so." As the man walked away Johnny jokingly said, "Yeah, tell 'em I'm so good I could do with a pay raise."
Laughing as he jiggled the reins on the team of horses, the older man left for home.
Johnny went to work on the stump, Lilly helped put her slight weight on the shovel to tip the stump over. She wiped a hand over her face; he pulled out a clean bandanna and offered it to her.
Walking over to Barranca, he pulled the canteen from around the saddle horn, "Here wet it down make ya feel a lot better."
Lilly held out the bandanna, Johnny poured a good amount on the cloth. He watched as she wiped the cloth over her face and neck, he turned took a long drink then poured a bit over his face and head. Shaking his head like dog water flew everywhere. Lilly squealed as stray drops hit her.
Carl come up on the two, "OK you two time we're gettin' back to the house. Johnny walked back with the brother and sister to within sight of the house, " Well I best get myself back to Lancer, need ta take care of that fence line, still got a full day ta put in. Carl mind what I said 'bout Doc. Jenkins, he's an ornery cuss when he wants ta be."
Johnny was in his upward swing on to Barrancas saddle when the horse screamed and began to buck. Johnny not in a good position went flying through the air coming down hard and something gave on his left side with a pain that nearly had him pass out. He had instincts enough to fall on his left saving his gun arm.
Trying to sit up beads of sweat popped out on his face, "Madre de Dios." He felt Lilly kneel beside him; Looking for Barranca he had to see to the horse, Carl had the animal and was looking him over. "See anything Carl?" Johnny said behind a grunt of pain.
"I see a small lump forming on his shoulder, seems ta be tender to him, how 'bout you?"
Forcing a smile on his face now edged in pain Johnny looked up from his position on the ground, "Been better for sure. Think ya can get me on my horse. I'll head on back to Lancer."
Mr. and Mrs. Poke who had been in the yard quickly ran up,
"Young man I don't think you are going anywhere." Fixing his eyes on Carl, "Son what happened?"
"Johnny was just swinging up into the saddle and all he...heck broke loose. The horse has a good lump forming on his shoulder, but don't look like any bug bite."
Jack came from behind his mother and stared at the cowboy on the ground in obvious pain, he remembered when he broke his arm, and it hurt like the devil. He liked Johnny, looking at his father, "Sir?"
"Yes jack, were' kinda busy right now, son."
"Pa!" The young boy continued, demand in his voice for his father to listen.
"Alright son, what is it?"
"It were Mike, I saw him with his slingshot up in the tree over yonder. He pulled it back and let go, then I heard the horse scream, it were a terrible sound made me wanna puke."
Allen looking around did not see the wayward son, "Let's get him up to the house, Carl take care of the horse." Mr. Poke got on one side and his wife the other, between the two they helped the young man to stand. Johnny did not want to stand, he had wanted to lie just where he was, if he did not move he did not feel the pain.
Slowly helping the injured man into the house and into a bedroom, it had pink flowers on the wall and a bed with girly looking comforter and pillows.
Looking down at Johnny as he lay in the bed, "Son I'm going into to town and send the doctor out, then I'm going to ride out to tell your father. You rest easy."
"What about your business?" Johnny said through clinched teeth.
"It can wait; we need to get you taken care of first." With that, he turned and left the room seeing his son Carl on his way out, "You find your brother and tell him to stay in his room until I get home."
"Yes sir." Carl watched his father ride off in a whirl of dust, chickens scattering. Running his good hand up and down his face, Carl thought to himself, ' Great, just great, his boss comes to visit, he sets about working in his stead, then his little brother about kills him. If he had a job after this, then the Lancers are better people than he thought all along?'
Visiting his sisters' bedroom where Johnny was being cared for, he looked in, "Ma I'm going to fetch Mike back, how is he?" nodding towards his prone boss.
"Son I think he has a broke rib, and some bad bruising. He didn't hit his head so I'm thankful for that." Looking up from her stand at the side of the bed the concerned woman smiled, "Best get your brother. He's got a lot to answer for when your father gets back."
"Yes ma'am, he surely does." Turning Carl was on a mission; his brother did have a lot to answer for. If he lost the best job he had ever had because of this, well it would not be pretty.
Mike Poke sat quietly and waited, from his hiding place he watched as his sister then mother left the cowboy's room, opening the panel he slipped out into the hallway. He had found the hidey-hole by accident; he figured the previous owners of the farm, in case of Indian attacks or marauding bandidos from the Mexican, border had put it there Least ways it saved him from a tanning, course, he snorted, it only saved him for a short while until his Pa came home.
He stood in the doorway of his sisters' room; the dark-haired rancher lay still, when he did move a low moan escaped his tightly clinched teeth.
When he had first seen Mr. Lancer he thought he was older, but looking at him now, he seemed like a kid, and the way he wore his gun belt, well the dime novels said that was a dead give away that he was a gunfighter.
He did not mean to hurt the man; he had just wanted to see him hit the dirt on his high and mighty rancher butt. When the horse screamed, he got sick to his stomach, he had never hurt anything before, he did not even like to kill a chicken for Sunday dinner.
Looking down at the floor, he still did not feel too good.
"You gonna stand there all day or are ya gonna help me get a drink of water?" Mike jerked his head up; he had only wanted to see for himself how bad the man had been hurt. Looked confused the looked at the man, "Why would you want me to help you after what I done?"
"Well I can't reach too good right now, and the water is over there and I am over here. Get my drift?" The cowboy said with a grin.
Mike moved cautiously into the room and picked up the glass of water, going to the bed he handed the young man the glass.
Draining the whole glass Johnny smiled, "Thanks."
Taking the glass back, Mike sat it back on the table. "Mr. Lancer I sure am sorry what I did."
Looking into the eyes of the boy Johnny knew that statement was true. "Come sit over here beside me it hurts ta twist my head ta look at ya." Slowly Mike came to sit on the edge of the bed facing the rancher. "Ya know when I was your age I got inta a lotta trouble 'cause I didn't think things out far enough ahead... if ya didn't stay far enough ahead, where I grew up ya got hurt bad. Only happened once or twice, I learned real fast."
The boy's head was down, "You know Mike in territory like this a man's horse could mean his life or death. That's why ya can still get hung over stealin' a man' horse, I been hurt before, but I take exception to my horse being hurt."
Nodding the boy quietly said, "Yes sir."
"OK then I need ya ta do somethin' 'fore me." Head coming up the boy's eyes shone, "Anything Mr. Lancer."
"Then the first thing ya gotta do it call me Johnny, Mr. Lancer's my Pa. Now I need ya to go find your brother Carl and have him check Barranca, that's my horse, over really good, then come back and tell me if he's hurt anywhere, and how bad."
Mike jumping up from the bed made Johnny bite down on his lip as the jarring of the bed sent his chest hurting. Mike ran from the room, "Yes Sir, Mr. Johnny, I can do it for you."
He heard the name Carl shouted out in the hall.
Lilly came around the doorframe, smiling. "I heard most of what you said to Mikey, he's really a good kid, but he's growing up too fast and Pa and Carl working all the time, don't get ta spend a lot of time with him. You are a good man Johnny Lancer."
"Well Ms. Poke, there's good and then there's good. I just don't want the boy ta end up with a short stick, saves a lot of pain."
Carl and Mike came back after tending Barranca, the lump was going down and the animal enjoyed the ministration of the Poke children. He behaved himself around the smaller ones as they brushed the parts they could reach and indulged his sweet tooth as sugar cubes, carrots and cold sweet water found their way into his stomach. The earlier pain forgotten, he just missed his compadre and could not understand why he was not running across the meadows or standing in his stall at Lancer. However as long as the little ones kept him supplied with good things, he was one happy horse.
Doctor Sam Jenkins stepped down from his carriage, tying the horse to the post out front of the house he sighed. Johnny Lancer was not even on his own range and he got into trouble. He wondered if he should prescribe some nerve tonic for Murdoch Lancer; eventually this boy would give his father a nervous breakdown.
Mrs. Poke met him at the door; he had gotten to know the family after Carl's injury at Lancer. They seemed like good people. Sam seeing Johnny lay back on a pink comforter, with lacy pillows under his head the doctor smiled. A young girl was just lowering a glass of water to the young man's lips.
"Not exactly your style Johnny." Smiling at the old doctor Johnny nodded, "Ain't that the truth Doc. Then when I come out here today, I didn't think I'd find myself in a young woman's bedroom, least wise not under these conditions."
Admonishing such talk Mrs. Poke shoved her daughter out the door and closed the door. "For a man in so much pain Johnny Lancer you can sure talk up a good one."
Sam smiled, "Mrs. Poke you just don't know how well." Turning his attention to Johnny, "Now young man let's see what we've got," as Sam proceeded to examine his patient.
Drying his hands Sam looked down on Johnny, he looked a lot more comfortable. "Well Johnny you have one very broken rib and two cracked ones, when you fell you must have hit a good sized rock, your bruised on nearly every part of your left side. You are going to be one sore young man for a while."
Frowning up at Sam the young man was not happy. "Well Murdoch sure ain't gonna like it; brandin' starts pretty soon, me laid up won't put him in a good frame of mind."
Bending down and patting Johnny's good shoulder, "Well son it's your left side, so you can still write, your father's precious ledger books will have your name on them."
"Oh Doc I really feel sick, where's my gun may as well put a bullet in my head seein' as my head and eyes will soon fall out."
They heard voices in the front of the house, one was very distinct and loud, Murdoch Lancer had arrived.
Sam stood to one side as the door flew open, the big rancher filled the doorway, and he did not see Sam only his boy, chest wrapped in white bandages, a lopsided grin on his handsome face.
"Whoee ya sure make an entrance Ol' Man. Ya'd think I was near death."
Frowning, Murdoch saw the doctor, "Sam how is he?"
Seeing the concern on his friends face he smiled, "He's gonna be sore for a while, no ranch work for a few weeks. One broken rib, two cracked ribs and bruising down his left side, but he will be OK."
Turning back to his son, "So how did you manage this?"
"Wasn't my fault, 'sides least it wasn't a bullet wound. Just an accident, leave it at that ok?"
"You will be laid up during branding, how am I to take that. You know I need every man on that job." Seeing the anger begin in his sons face, "Johnny, I know you are hurt, I know you didn't intentionally hurt yourself. Son I'm sorry, I..."
"It's alright Murdoch." Looking up through a fringe of dark eyelashes, he grinned, "Doc Sam did say figuring numbers and such wouldn't put a stain on my damaged body."
Surprise was on Murdoch's face, his younger son offering to do the books. Johnny had only been shown the books once, Murdoch was not sure if that was a good idea. "Well we'll see son. Now Scott's bringing the buckboard so we can get you back to Lancer."
A frown turned down the young lancer's mouth, "I can ride Barranca, don't need no buckboard."
Sam stepped in, "Johnny you will find it hard enough climbing into that wagon, getting on a horse will be impossible. I want to give you a little medicine to help the pain."
Shaking his head, "No Doc, no drugs, can't think straight with that stuff making my head all fuzzy."
Seeing the boy was not going to move on the subject, Sam turned to the father, "I'll leave you a bottle, in case your hard-headed son decides I am right about the pain. I will check up on him in a couple of days. If he develops a fever or anything else have someone come get me."
Murdoch looked away from his son, "Thanks Sam, I'll walk with you outside." The two older men left the room Johnny was alone. Throwing back the sheet a sharp intake of breath as the pain took his resolve down a notch. "I can do this," he said under his breath.
After the haze of pain left his eyes, he saw Mike standing in the doorway, "Hey Mike. Could 'ya give me a hand?"
Seeing Johnny in pain, sweat popping out on his face, Mike was not sure his new friend should be doing this. "I thought you were to wait for your brother."
"Well sometimes a man has ta keep some dignity. Come on help me with my boots."
Johnny knew he could not bend down, let alone pull on boots. If he could get up, he knew he could ride home on his own horse, not in some mamby pamby buckboard.
"Johnny Lancer!" Both boys startled, looked up at Sissy, hands on hips, mouth set in a frown, "What do you think you are doing?"
She moved into the room, "You can't even bend over, and you're only half dressed. Do I need to get your father back in here?"
Defiance in his eyes, Johnny pushed himself up from the bed, it was hard to do when Doc. Jenkins had strapped his left arm to his side. The room started to tilt, but he was not going to give this girl the satisfaction of being right.
"You sure are bossy to a stranger, 'cides I don't gotta listen ta you. I'm my own man, I can come and go as I please, and I please ta go."
"Over my dead body, little brother, don't even try." Scott's voice cut through the pain that had started to creep into Johnny's resolve.
"Look at you, you look like the prize turkey in the window the way Doc. Jenkins has you bound up."
"Think yer funny huh big brother?" Johnny's hand clutched Mikes shoulder as his legs began to wobble. "I can get on my horse and ride to Lancer.
Standing to the side Scott waved with his arm, "Then be my guest, this will be interesting."
Johnny pushed away from Mike; glaring at his brother Johnny took another step, then another as he came abreast of his smirking older brother the younger man smiled, "See I told ya so." As Scott saw the blue eyes of his brother roll up into his head, he grabbed the defiant younger man and eased him back to the bed. "Alright little brother you've proved how refractory you can be. Let's get you comfortable. I don't think you are going anywhere today."
Looking at Mike the older Lancer smiled, "Young man, could you go and get the doctor back in here." Nodding Mike gave an ok and ran from the room.
Scott saw the girl for the first time, "I'm Scott Lancer, Johnny's brother." Not seeing the resemblance, she smiled, "Ya don't look alike."
"It's a long story your room I assume?"
"Yes sir it is, mine and my little sisters, it had the bigger bed." She moved around to the other side of Johnny, pushed the unruly shock of hair from the young man's face. "He's starting a fever."
Nodding Scott felt the forehead himself "Seems to be. You may be out of a bed tonight."
She smiled, not speaking her thoughts aloud, 'if only she could share the bed with her darkly handsome stranger.' Her face flushed with her wanton thoughts, her momma would tan her hide and the good Lord would frown down on her. She is really going to have to read her Bible tonight.
They both moved away as Doctor Jenkins and Murdoch Lancer rushed into the room, followed by Mr. and Mrs. Poke.
After a fast examine Sam pulled the sheet up to Johnny's neck, "Well he's not going anywhere tonight. I think it's just from the trauma his body has taken. I'll stay the night; we're going to need to do shifts."
Mrs. Poke, her voice gentle but with an air of command, "Then that's what we'll do. The girls will sleep in the boy's room, the boys can sleep in the barn, and it's a warm night. Mr. Lancer and Scott can have Carl's room; Carl can be with the boys in the barn."
Scott and Murdoch began to object, "No that's how it will be, I'll go fix some dinner, Sissy in the kitchen with me. Carl get a bucket of water in here so we can start cooling Johnny down. Doctor Jenkins can switch off sleeping when the Lancers take their shift."
As she left the room, everyone took a breath, Mr. Poke just smiled, "Don't even try to argue won't do any good. Let's get this boy cooled down."
The night seemed to get longer as the shifts sat with Johnny trying to get the fever under control. The Poke family felt bad that foolishness had been the cause of the young mans injury on the part of one of theirs. No one felt worse than young Mike Poke did. He sat beside the golden palomino, sobs in his throat. He did not want his brothers to hear him cry. It was his entire fault that Johnny was so sick. He would not be able to stand it if the man died; man he was not but a few odd years older than him, just a kid, but not a kid, he could tell there was something different about the younger Lancer.
If Johnny did die would they hang him for murder, he knew it would just about kill his Ma and Pa if that happened. The Lancers might just string him up on the nearest tree. Knees pulled up arms wrapped around his legs, head on his knees the boy silently cried.
Scott Lancer had just been relieved from his shift, Doc. Jenkins was sleeping and Scott did not want to disturb him, so he walked to the barn to check on Barranca.
His little brother had his priorities and his fear for the welfare of the palomino was top of the list, smiling, he hoped one day that would change and put his family first. The boy had been independent for so long, never had to care about anyone but himself. He himself knew it could take time and patience.
He stopped as he saw the huddled figure beside his brother's horse. It was the sling shot desperado. "Mike, shouldn't you be in be asleep?" Tired sad eyes looked up at the older Lancer brother, "Hi
Scott. Can't sleep all I see is Johnny thrashing around in bed, moaning somethin' terrible. I knowd' I killed him, he's gonna die cause of me and my stupid anger."
Sitting down beside the boy Scott thought a minute, "Mike did you learn anything from your violent act?"
Nodding his bent head, "Yes sir I did." The low voice wavered.
"Actin' out in anger or wrong-headedness can cause hurt to some one who don't deserve it. I never even got ta know Johnny 'fore I caused him harm, and now he might die." The last spoke in such anguish Scott put his arm around the trembling shoulders. "Mike, I still don't know a lot about my little brother, we were raise miles apart, we didn't even know we existed until a few months ago. But one thing I do know, trouble is Johnny's middle name."
Looking up Mike grinned, "Trouble's a funny middle name."
"Well it isn't really but as his older brother I gave it to him. Since he has been home, my little brother has become good friends with Doc. Jenkins. If it were a sprain, or a cut, or just plain orneriness Johnny would always run a fever. This one is not so bad in fact; it has not gotten any worse. It will probably break by dawn."
"Then Johnny won't die?" Brighter eyes looked up into the older man's blue-grey eyes. Patting the boys' shoulders, he stood, "Not for a long, long time I hope. Now let's look this horse over so we can report good news to my little brother."
Running hands over legs and shoulders the pair could say the horse was in perfect shape, maybe a little fatter from all the sugar and carrots little hands had slipped to the animal.
"Scott?" The boy sounded a little hesitant, "Is it true Johnny was a gunfighter?"
Contemplating how much to say to the boy Scott took a deep breath, "Before Johnny came home to Lancer; he was alone for a very long time. His mother died and circumstances kept him away from his father. He grew up in Mexico, and it was a hard life. To stay alive he took up the gun. However, Johnny's home now and he has a family to take care of him. So he doesn't have to use his gun anymore."
Grinning down at the boy, "And with friends as you and your family I hope he can forget all that and leave it in the past."
"I'd like ta help Scott. Maybe when I get older I can come work at Lancer and keep an eye on Johnny."
Laughing Scott put a hand on Mike's small shoulder, "Well his father and I could use all the help we can get."
The rooster began to crow as the first light of a new day was beginning. Going into the house fresh coffee was brewing and Mrs. Poke had breakfast started.
Murdoch's ruff voice sounded from the doorway, "Is that coffee I smell?"
Mrs. Poke poured the rancher a big mug, "Just off the fire. How's your son this morning?"
After a long sip of coffee, the big man's eyes looked more awake, his face more relaxed, "The fever broke with the first crow of the rooster."
Mike looked up at Scott, a 'see I told you' look in the older man's eyes. Mike grinned like the cat that got the cream.
Mr. Poke came in the door and hung his hat on a peg, "Mike go wake your brothers, there still a field to clear." He watched his son run out the door, taking a cup of coffee his wife handed him he sipped and looked over the cup at the older Lancer son. "Scott I didn't mean to eavesdrop but, I heard what ya told my boy. Thank you, I know he's a good boy and wouldn't hurt a fly, and this had the boy torn up inside."
Going quiet and looking at both Lancers, "I also heard you tell him about Johnny growin' up in Mexico and his youthful profession. I am glad he gave it up and found his family. Seems ta me he's gonna be a fine man one day."
They heard a shriek from the bedroom occupied by Johnny. Each person was falling over themselves to be first to find out the reason.
Lillian Poke was standing with a hand covering her mouth. It was not stark terror on her face but suppressed laughter. Johnny was sitting on the edge of the bed with a sheet tucked around him, his tanned face darker from the apparent flush rising on his cheeks. Looking up at the adult faces, Johnny did not care man or woman they were all getting a piece of his mind, "Who the hell took all my clothes off, wasn't as if my whole body needed doctorin'."
Seeing realization on everyone's face Johnny deflated, "Madre de Dios, she done seen me nekked. I ain't ready ta get married."
The boy's face took on a sick look, "Dios I'm gonna..."
Johnny never finished the sentence; Mrs. Poke grabbed a basin and held it under the young man's chin. The others in the room made a quick exit.
In the hallway the Lancer men looked at Mr. Poke, they all turned to the young woman. Lillian gulped back a laugh, "I just went in to check on him, and just as I walked in he threw off the top cover and pulled his legs over the side of the bed." Looking at the floor, she hid a smile, collecting her thoughts she looked back up into her father's face. "It happened so fast and Johnny recovered himself, I didn't see anything. Least nothing I haven't seen with three brothers."
Clearing his throat Mr. Poke pinned a look into his daughter's eyes, "He is not your brother, and you had no business going into his room without a chaperone."
Mrs. Poke came out with the covered basin, a glance at her daughter had the girl following as she left the men standing in the hallway.
Murdoch started off, "Mr. Poke I am so sorry this happened..."
Allen Poke held up his hand, "Mr. Lancer, there was no harm intended by Johnny, Lillian has a habit of bursting into rooms without knocking first."
Both Lancers smiled, thinking about a certain dark-haired young woman back at Lancer.
Mr. Poke continued, "Rest assured I won't be standing at your door with a shotgun."
Murdoch cleared his throat, "I'm sure my younger son will be greatly relieved."
Scott smiled, "One thing I do know about my brother is his idea of right and wrong. If you had truly been hurt over this, my little brother would have stepped up and married Lillian."
"I feel the truth in that Scott, I really do. I'm growing to like that boy in that room." The three men looked as Doctor Jenkins stumbled out into the hall, hair at all angles rubbing sleep from his eyes, "Did I miss something?"
Scott grinned, devilment in his blue eyes, "Only Johnny getting engaged."
It was a running joke through out the day, even the younger children got in on the light-heartedness of the unexpected 'engagement'.
Lillian was kept busy with laundry and house cleaning, Murdoch and Scott helped Carl and Allen in the field, the two younger children kept Barranca company and Mike sat on the edge of his new friends' bed. His eyes drifting to the holstered gun on the bed post excitement and wonder in his face. Johnny noticed the glance.
"You know it's just a tool, any cattleman ridin' the range needs it ta protect his self from snakes, wolves other nasty varmints."
Mike looked into the sapphire blue, "But you used to use it for other things?"
Nodding and looking at the boy, 'how much would he understand'
"I took up the gun when I was a little older than you, my mother had died so I was alone, and I had no one to help fight my battles, no one to feed me, or ease my nightmares. So to survive I learned how to use that particular tool."
Listening to the sadness in his friends voice Mike pressed his lips together, "How long did it take you to get good?"
"Well Mike, I took to it pretty fast, had some men tell me I was a natural, and didn't know what that meant back then. I practiced every day sometimes for hours. I practiced till it was pure instinct."
"Mike living my life that way got me no where but closer to a bullet finding me. Gunfighter's don't live much past twenty, I was at the top of the game, but any day could have been my last."
The younger boy gazed in awe at the big iron. Johnny lifted up and pulled the gun, opening the chamber he removed the shells, snapping the chamber closed with a flick of his wrist he handed the boy the gun.
Mike thought he had died and gone to heaven, he was holding Johnny Madrid's gun, the gun that killed many a bad man. It was heavier than he thought. Holding it in front of him, he sighted down the barrel, "Wow my friends won't believe this, Johnny Madrid's gun in my hand."
Reaching out and grabbing the gun Johnny laid it beside his right leg, the boy's eyes never leaving the iron.
"This gun you so admire has killed men, bad and some a few good men. Friends or people I called friends, have fallen before this gun. I done things I ain't proud of things best left unsaid."
"But Johnny you were feared, you could go anywhere you wanted, do anything you wanted, no one to tell you couldn't."
Nodding, Johnny's black hair fell into his eyes. Brushing the wayward strands from his eyes with his hand, he sighed, "What you said is true, if you don't have anyone, like a Pa or Ma or sister or brother, then it's an excitin' life.
"But you got your Pa and Scott." The boy reminded his friend.
"I do now, didn't then. How would you feel if you didn't have your Pa or Ma, Sissy, Cindy or Jack? Think real hard ,if you never knew them if one day you were standing in a dirty street in some dirty little town, where the people didn't know you only a reputation as a killer, and you went up against some one who was faster than you. And that one bullet found its mark."
Looking into the young face Johnny could see the realization set in.
"Then as you lay dying in the street, your blood soaking into the dirt, and no one, no one comes to help. You die alone to be buried in some unmarked grave, forgotten, only a fleeting mention of your name when they talk about who bested you."
Mike's head was bowed, Johnny's words rolling around in his head; Mike was a perceptive young man and he knew the truth of the words. Looking back up into his friends face, he grinned.
"But you ain't gonna die in the dirt are ya Johnny? I mean ya got your Pa and Scott now, and lots a people know you. You got me as a friend I won't ever forget you."
Ruffling the top of the boys head Johnny laughed, "Yeah I got me a bueno amigo. See if Sissy got any a that lemonade, all this talkn' done got my mouth dry."
Jumping up the ran from the room, "OK amigo, be right back."
Johnny was re-loading his gun when Mrs. Poke stepped into the room, she looked like she had been crying, keeping his head bowed Johnny did not look up a her, " I knew you were standin' out there in the hall, didn't mean ta upset ya." Bringing his head up he slid the gun back into its worn holster.
Shaking her head, "Oh no Johnny that's not it. You are wise beyond your years; I don't think Mike will want to be a gunfighter now."
Johnny smiled, "Yeah put tha fear o Madrid in 'em. He's a good kid. He needs ta see being a man like his Pa, or my Ol' Man will get him faster respect than any gun."
Mike moved around his mother to present Johnny with the glass of lemonade. Smiling with a bit of the devil in his eyes he said loud enough for his mother to hear, " Sissy said if'n ya was ta want more lemonade you'd haft' get off yer sorry excuse of a butt and get it yer self."
Johnny sent a conspirators smile to Mike, as Mrs. Poke drew in a deep breath, "I'll visit with you later Johnny, Mike you stay here with your friend." As she entered the hallway, the boys heard the commanding voice of an irate woman. "Lillian Elizabeth Poke..."
Laughing together the friends sat back and enjoyed a talk about sod busting and cattle ranching.
The next day Scott had ridden home to bring the buckboard; Doctor Jenkins refused to let his young patient ride home on any horse, let alone the high-strung palomino.
So it was Johnny Lancer bid his new friends farewell, Carl would be back at work next week, the field had been cleared in time for planting. And a young woman stood on the wraparound porch dreaming of the dark-haired, blue-eyed rancher and smiled. Her mother came to put an arm around her daughter, "It's not like he lives clear across the mountains."
The girl's father frowned, lordy so soon, he'd thought he would have a couple more years before he had to worry about this. A concerned brother followed his father to the barn, Sissy and Johnny Lancer, hope he wouldn't have to poke his fist to his boss's face, that wouldn't be too good.
The Green River fall social was at the end of the month, and Johnny did not want to go. He shied away from the press of so many people, and those people really did not want someone like him there anyway. When Teresa asked him if he was going he said, "No, Teresa I jus ain't goin'. Ain't got nuthin' ta prove ta those people."
She turned her big brown eyes to his blue ones, "Johnny you need to go, if only to show those people who you are. Don't let them rob you of having fun with your family and friends. I know sheriff Crawford will be there, and I know a certain young woman would like to attend her first social in Green River escorted by a certain dark-haired blue eyed rancher."
Johnny thought for a minute, Sheriff Crawford, Sheriff he had to smile, if the Cattle Growers Association knew the entire background of one Val Crawford they would have never hired the former gun hawk, and long time traveling compadre of Johnny Madrid.
Then there was Ms. Lillian Poke, he smiled, well a young woman did need an escort. Looking into beseeching brown eyes he gave in.
Dios this family thing was gettin' complicated. Looking around the great room where his 'sister' had corralled him he saw the grin on his father's face, and a smirk on his blond-haired older brother, yeah much too complicated.
Teresa's voice cut through the early morning, "Murdoch tell Johnny he has to wear the new suit, and I want everyone there to see what a civilized son Lancer has produced."
Johnny's sullen voice spoke from the kitchen, " Told her I wear what I usually wear, only Maria cleaned it and pressed it up, ain't got no rips or stains on it." The voice was joined by the younger Lancer, a glass of milk in one hand a couple of cookies in the other.
"'Sides, I aint goin' ta impress no one. I can always stay home, Scott could escort Ms. Poke."
Murdoch rose from his chair behind the big desk, coming around to Teresa he put a gentle hand on her shoulder, " Honey, if your brother wants to dress in his style, at least his clothes are clean, I'm sure Maria saw to that. And Johnny I don't want you to think Lancer is parading you out in front of the valley like some prize bull."
Scott mumbled something, all three turned to look at him. He slouched further into the sofa. Murdoch looked at his older son, "I'm sorry son we didn't hear you."
Clearing his throat the elder Lancer son stood and faced his family, "I ah, well you mentioned parading him out like a prize bull, I just said it was better than a..." Glancing at Teresa, he looked down and in a lowered voice finished his thought, "Stud."
Teresa giggled and held a hand over her mouth, Murdoch just stared at his elder son and Johnny grinned, "That don't sound too bad ta me." As he tipped, back his glass and finished his milk.
Teresa though she was still young, was not ignorant of life on a ranch, "Just think Johnny if Murdoch did that we'd have all kinds of little Johnny's running around."
Johnny blanched and looked at his family, "Oh no, this is one Lancer that's got a lot more liven' ta do 'fore he gets a ring in his nose."
With that declaration, the younger Lancer son turned and made a beeline to the kitchen, "Mommacita!" The shout dying as the boy went to find comfort from the safety that was Maria.
The Lancer siblings were ready for the trip to the Poke place and pick up Lillian, then to Green River and the dance. "Hurry up Johnny, you've preened enough already." Scott shouted from the surrey. Teresa, behind him on the second seat, glanced nervously at the hacienda. :" Johnnyyy!" The young woman shouted her two cents worth.
The siblings were rewarded by the appearance of the second son of Lancer; he turned once more to the older woman and bent down as she adjusted the red tie at his neck. She gave him a peck in his cheek at turned him towards the buggy. "Pasala bien! Tinga cuidado de mi Nino."
Teresa's fear of Johnny not fitting in was thrown away; he looked, well for lack of a better word, beautiful.
The young man walked with his confident stride, his black charro suit fit perfect to his lean frame. Silver stitching ran down the side of each leg, the matching short jacket trimmed in swirls of silver, his white shirt emphasized his tanned skin tone. The red tie splashed the need for vibrant color Johnny was so fond of.
That the ever-present gun rig rode low from his hip only emphasized the contradiction that was Johnny lancer. The young man swung up into the surrey beside his brother. Scott smiled, only his little brother could wear such an outfit and get away with it. The young women will be swooning in their dancing shoes.
Flicking the reins the Lancer siblings drove off. Murdoch standing beside Maria, his thoughts of how beautiful and grown up Teresa looked, Scott was perfection in his new tailored dark suit, cut to accent his tall lean frame.
Johnny was enough to take your breath away.
Never shy of his heritage, in fact he would flaunt it if someone mentioned his mixed blood. His younger son had the confidence and the firepower to back it up. If only he had left that rig at home. It either went with him or they both stayed home, no debate.
"Maria, I fear there will be a few broken hearts and a lot of worried fathers out there tonight."
"Si patron. It is good the Nina has her hermanos to watch for her." The housekeeper turned and left him as she entered the hacienda. Murdoch turned a face to the disappearing buggy. 'Lord help me.' As he thought of his ward, like a daughter, he groaned. Those sons of his had better keep a close eye on her.
Looking up towards the heavens, the Lancer patriarch spoke in a hushed voice, 'Catherine, Maria, Paul you have all blessed me with three of the most important things in my life. I am truly blessed.'
Turning he stopped, looked up again, 'Oh thanks for the headaches that I am sure to have very soon. You three laugh it up I plan on a payback when I get there.'
"Blessed in deed is the man
who hears many gentle voices
call him father."
( Lydia M. Child )
TBC