A PAST FOREVER PRESENT

CHAPTER ONE

Johnny was lying on the hard-packed ground in a cold cell. His clothes had been reduced to shreds and he was shivering, not only because of the cold seeping through his bones but because a fever was starting to invade his abused body.

Not for the first time since his confinement, he wondered why they were doing this to him. He desperately wanted to talk to them, to tell them he was sorry for what had happened so many years ago. He wanted to tell them it was okay for them to kill him but not to torture him like they had.

He moved slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position, but to no avail. All his body was hurting and, furthermore, his soul was hurting as well. Was this what it was like being in Hell on earth? Was his suffering meant to be? Was the Devil finally taking his due? He didn't know. He was lost in a world of hurt, a world he was used to, a world of his choosing or so he had always thought.

As much as he hated to admit it, he was scared. He knew, deep down, that this time, nobody would come to his rescue. Nobody knew where he was, and it was his fault. He had made sure no one would know. He had left the ranch in a hurry after receiving a strange letter from an old friend.

Three weeks before…

The day was beautiful, with lots of sunshine and not even one cloud darkening the blue sky. Johnny was riding Barranca at a leisurely pace. He wasn't in a hurry, as Murdoch only expected him back before noon the next day. So he took his time and rode slowly, enjoying the scenery around him.

He wanted to stop in Green River and spend a few hours with his friend, Val Crawford – the sheriff. The people in town thought it strange that he, an ex-gunfighter, could be friends with a lawman. What most didn't know was that he and Val had known each other for a few years before Johnny came back to Lancer. They had, in fact, worked together a few times, back when Val wasn't a sheriff but just another gunfighter, like Johnny, albeit without the big reputation.

The young man only had a few friends he could trust implicitly and Val was one of them. Boy, was he surprised to come face to face with him, in Green River! That had been two months after his arrival at his father's ranch, and following the events with Day Pardee, who had also been a friend, well sort of. Pardee had been a gunfighter, a very good one, too… and a dangerous man to cross – one who wasn't above back-shooting his enemies or former friends, as Johnny himself had experienced.

He remembered that day very clearly. Murdoch had taken both Scott and him to the small town. His intention was to introduce them to a few people he was often dealing with. Then, after lunch, they had followed him to the sheriff's office. All the while, Murdoch was telling them the man was new to the area, having taken the job just a few days after they came back home.

Murdoch had opened the door of the office and entered, followed closely by his two sons. Val was sitting at his desk, apparently resting, his hat covering his eyes, the chair he was sitting on precariously standing on its two rear legs. Murdoch had coughed, to make his presence known and Val had jumped off his chair, sending it spiralling down as he did so. He stood right in front of Murdoch and his two sons, a look of utter disbelief crossing his features when he found himself looking directly into the eyes of…

"Madrid?"

"Yep. Got something to say against me being here in your town, Lawman?"

"Johnny!" Murdoch exclaimed, shocked by the effrontery he could sense in his son's tone and then even more shocked by what happened next.

Val pushed Murdoch aside, grabbed Johnny and pulled him into his arms, hugging him tight, laughing all the while.

"Boy, am I glad to see you alive and kicking."

"Not more than me, Amigo," answered the younger man, laughing too, pushing himself off the sheriff and looking at him from head to toe and back.

"You haven't changed much, Val. Still don't know how to dress yourself," he continued, insolence dripping from his lips as he took in the dishevelled appearance of his friend.

"And you, still dressing flashy, as I can I see," answered back Val, in much the same tone, as he noticed the younger man's salmon embroidered shirt and black Mexican-style pants with silver conchos on each side.

Murdoch and Scott looked at them both, trying to understand what was going on right in front of them.

Johnny, finally taking pity on them, said "Well, it's like this… he and I, we're friends."

"Friends? How can you be friends with a lawman?" said Murdoch, immediately regretting his words upon seeing the hurt on Johnny's face.

And Val, seeing his friend's discomfort, hurriedly added "We've known each other for quite a few years, Mr. Lancer. You see, to make a long story short, before I was a lawman, I was selling my gun, just like Johnny was. We met, we got along well and we became friends. End of the story."

The tall rancher had looked astonished – their new sheriff had once been a gunfighter? That was news to him. As for Scott, he was simply too new to all that "West" thing to really react in one way or another.

Both Johnny and Val had reassured them, saying it was common practice for a gunfighter to turn lawman. Val even told Murdoch he had tried to get a young Johnny to join him and become his deputy, the last time they had been together. And Johnny had laughed, telling his father he hadn't been ready to settle down at the time.

From that day on, the two men had resumed their friendship. And now, Johnny was riding into Green River, planning to spend some quality time with his old friend. He was glad he had a few hours ahead of him, before he had to return home. Home, how strange it still was for him, even after two years, to think about the ranch as home, HIS home.

His life had definitely been turned upside down when he accepted his father's invitation to spend one hour of his time and listen to what he had to say. At the time of his arrival, he had found out he also had a brother, an older brother. That had been a shock. When he was small, he had often wished for a brother who would look after him, stop people from bullying him. In his mind, his brother was a tall, dark-haired man with kind brown eyes, much like the eyes of his mama. He wasn't expecting a blond Eastern dandy coming straight from Boston, a place he had heard of but never went to.

Another shock had been to find out his father had not thrown him and his mama out when he was barely two years old as he had been led to believe. Two shocks in less than 24 hours; it had been more than enough to unbalance him. But now, looking back, he was glad he had decided to give it a try. After a rather rocky beginning, lots of head bumping with his old man, slowly getting to know his newly-found brother and developing a very close friendship with the man, he was finally happy and settled. Yes, he was glad to be back home – or almost – as he still wanted to spend some time with Val.

Johnny and Val had caroused late into the night, drinking tequila and whisky and talking about old times. They had started in the saloon after Val had finished his last rounds and left his office in the capable hands of his deputy, to finish at Val's place so as not to end up in jail for public disturbance. Although it would have been funny, in Johnny's opinion, to find both of them behind bars, in Val's own cell, waiting for someone to bail them out.

The next morning, they had woken up in the same bed with a bad hangover, wondering how the hell they did end up in the said bed in the first place. Val had made coffee in his usual manner, using a frying pan. After a few cups of a coffee that, for once, was strong enough, Johnny felt his head sufficiently clear for him to take his leave and return home. He still had a few hours of riding in front of him before getting to the ranch and he really wanted to be there before noon. Hell, he didn't arrive in town a day earlier to end up late at the ranch because he and Val had too much fun remembering their old times together.

Finally, Johnny arrived in view of the Lancer arch and stopped, letting the breathtaking view hit him. He smiled, leaned against Barranca's head while patting his neck and started whistling a cheerful tune. He couldn't believe how just the fact of seeing the hacienda could make him feel so happy. He spurred his mount and rushed through the gate at full speed, even though he knew that Murdoch hated him doing it. He would, of late, usually abide by his father's wishes, but this time he didn't care… He wanted to be home with his family and he wanted to be there fast.

It was a half-hour to noon when he finally reined in his horse in front of the hitching post. He barely had time to dismount before Murdoch was already coming out of the front door, a frown on his face.

"How many times have I told you not to come rushing like this, young man?"

"Too many times," answered Johnny with a full smile adorning his face. "I'm happy to be back."

"And I suppose that's a good enough reason in your view, huh?" Murdoch answered, his tone softening upon seeing the look of pure joy on his younger son's face.

"Yep."

Murdoch laughed, a deep laugh coming from his belly, and shook his head.

"Take care of your horse and get cleaned up a bit. Lunch should be ready in about half an hour."

"Is Scott back?"

"Not yet, but he should be soon," responded the older man, as he turned his back to re-enter the house, still smiling as he thought how far Johnny had come.

He was glad the boy finally felt at home, sufficiently so to admit he was happy to be back. Oh, his son still had his moments, and so did he, but they were not arguing as often as before. He had learned to trust his son's instincts and the boy had learned to respect his father's opinion. They had come a long way toward finally forming that father-son bond they both needed so badly.

And so it was that Murdoch came back inside, whistling a cheerful tune, not knowing it was the same one Johnny had been whistling earlier.

TBC