Away in a Manger
Her dark eyes looked around her in the growing darkness; he said he would return in a short time, "just going to get something to eat and a surprise for you my pretty lady".
The place he had chosen for them to sleep this first night was not what she had expected, not what he had promised and was not some place she would have chosen.
The toddler at her shoulder moved and picked his dark haired head up to look around, "Poppa, horsey". His questioning blue eyes turned to her as a plump thumb found its way between his lips.
"No mi hijo, no caballo, no Poppa. You lay your head down and be silent", she placed a hand on her sons back and rubbed up and down and felt the slight tremble under the thin shirt.
She knew if the child was not happy there would be no calming him, only his Poppa could do that and he was far away.
Biting her lower lip between white even teeth she sighed, 'Dios what had she done. Had her life been so bad she would toss her sacred vows in front of the church and God like so much unwanted garbage?
What of her son, in Mexico he would be shamed and shunned, for herself it mattered not that she would be damned for running off in the night away from a good man?
Murdoch Lancer was a good man, a strong and powerful man even if she wanted to return she knew he would never trust her again.
Trust was everything to Murdoch Lancer and she had betrayed that trust and had stolen the one thing he desired, his son.
LLLLLLL
Maria Lancer paced back and forth from one end of the small barn to the other. Keeping Johnny quiet was becoming a chore.
He had just turned two and now it was Christmas Eve, she had to smile as she remembered the morning the child awoke and rushed down the stairs, much to her fear of him falling head first to stand in front of the gaily-decorated tree.
His poppa had set the tree up on Johnny's birthday, the morning Blake came for them left Johnny had to be dragged away from his tree, "no Momma, Johnny tree".
Blake, the man she thought she loved, grabbed the toddler up and gave him a cookie, "here cowboy eat this it'll make ya feel good."
Johnny never met a cookie he did not like. As he munched on the unexpected delight, his eyes began to droop. Maria looked at Blake, "just laced with a little something to keep him quiet".
She wanted to object, but it was too late. The little wooden horse fell from her son's lax hand, a birthday present from his Poppa, as the couple left the warmth of the room and stole like thieves into the night.
Pacing now to calm her son Maria knew she had done wrong, if not for herself than for her son. However, she could not leave him, after all a child needed its mother. Murdoch had another son, the gringa Catherine's son in Boston. He would be content with the elder son and he would soon forget about his mestizo son, of this she was sure.
Johnny finally fell asleep; as she knelt in the fresh straw, she heard the refrains of the singing from the mission.
Looking down at her sleeping child, she swept a lock of coal black hair from his eyes, "just like the bebe Jesus. In a manger on a cold night, forced to flee a tyrant, you will see Juanito, Blake will be your new Poppa and we will live a new life. Not to wither in a gilded prison but to be free to do as we please."
The barn door opened and he stepped in, wrapped packages in his hand, a smile on his handsome face, "miss me darling?"
She glided to him, "Si, very much. Juanito is asleep."
"Well, let 'im sleep, I got 'im a little something as well," holding out his hand he wrapped it around Marias small waist "I saw this and had to buy it for you".
Maria smiled like a child on Christmas morning, tearing into the package she pulled the red dress with the black lace and held it up to herself. It was indecently low cut she turned her eyes up to the man with a question, "you gonna help me with my card game aren't you. Well you will make the perfect distraction; we will rake in tha money. Then we'll buy that house in some big city and live like the rich folk."
Maria smiled, but it did not light up her face, her thoughts once more of what she had done.
Looking away from Blake her eyes sought out her son. Wrapped in a thin blanket, lying in a manger his face so young so innocent of what his life will be like away from Lancer and a doting loving father.
Blake wrapped Maria into his embrace as he plucked the dress from her hands, "We'll be good together my love, my finesse and your charms we'll rake in the mother lode."
She leaned back into his strong arms, "si my darling, we will do very well."
Placing his chin upon the top of her raven-haired head he looked off into the distant future, "you'll see, we'll travel, meet all kinds if interesting people and little John will get a fine education."
She patted his arms, still around her pinning her to his chest, "yes we will. We will do these things together and we will be happy. And Johnny will be happy, you will be his new Poppa and he will forget about Murdoch Lancer."
Turning her around he kissed her lips, "Ah Maria I love you so much, I'll even make you forget Murdoch Lancer. Now come over here, I brought us something special to eat, it is Christmas Eve, and we need to celebrate not only that fact but the fact you are now free."
She smiled as she allowed him to lead her to a rickety table and two chairs upon which sat a wrapped bundle. Her lips turned down as she thought once more about Lancer, the fine dining table in the fine hacienda. Shaking the melancholy from her shoulders where new self-incriminations gathered she smiled.
This was only for one night, the hotels were filled with holiday crowds, Blake had explained that to her.
Tomorrow would be a new day and a new life for her and Johnny. Blake would care for her and show her a world of wonder and excitement.
Glancing once more in her small sons' direction, she could only hope this new life would be good for John, no it was Juanito from now on.
Murdoch Lancer had no place in his heart for a young wife who needed things he could not give. He had no room in his heart for his mestizo son. No the estancia, the land was all Murdoch Lancer cared for. He had Lancer, let him try to find comfort and love from the cold land.
Blake held the chair for Maria, as she sat she smiled, "Feliz Navidad".
He placed a strong hand on her shoulder, "Merry Christmas", he said as he came around to sit across from her.
Johnny moved once in sleep a soft murmur escaped his lips, "Johnny tree, Poppa. Poppa find Johnny."
LLLLLL
He sat in front of the gaily-decorated tree. The wrapped packages carefully placed under its green boughs. It was his sons second Christmas, and Johnny was old enough to appreciate the gifts and excitement of the day.
Johnny was not here, Murdoch Lancer had ridden through the night to make it home for Christmas morning. The sale of the palominos would put Lancers books back in the black.
Maria would have her trip to San Francisco and a new dress or two and some of the finer things his young wife desired.
Just as the sun began its climb over the mountains and he bid his wranglers a Merry Christmas he burst through the front doors of the hacienda arms filled with gifts for his son and Maria.
He laughed as in his excitement he dropped some of the gifts and his big booted foot sent the wrapped present skidding across the floor to stop at the base of the tree.
How Johnny had stared at the tree when on the morning of his second birthday Murdoch had watched him scoot down the stairs to stand in awe in front of the massive tree.
The women of Lancer had done a fine job of decorating, though none of the Mexican women had ever done such a thing before.
He remembered the blank stares of the dark brown eyes as they looked at the patron as if he had lost his mind.
Slowly telling them it was tradition and it was for Juanito. Maria the young wife of one of the ranch hands smiled clapped her hands and took charge. "For Juanito we will do this thing, we will make this tree especial for our Niño", she herded the women from the room and did as good a job of taking charge as her husband over a herd of feisty horses.
Johnny held on to his Poppa's neck as his deep blue eyes stared at the pretty tree before him, he had never seen such a sight.
There was pretty paper cut into intricate designs hung all around the green branches, small candles sprung from the tips of the boughs, and wooden carved animals hung from ribbon spaced among the greenery.
Murdoch kissed the top of his son's head, "John this is your tree..."
The toddler turned his head and the blue eyes locked onto those of his father, 'Johnny tree? All mine?"
Murdoch laughed, "si mi hijo all yours."
Lowering his tall body towards the floor Murdoch sat his son on his strong short legs then stood and wrapped an arm around his wife. Together they watched their child take determined steps closer to the tree.
Young John Lancer would show caution but never fear; he reached one small brown hand out to the tree and touched a beautiful carved horse with real golden horsehair for tail and mane.
He laughed as it bounced on the tree branch as if it were galloping across the lands of Lancer. Looking back at his father and mother, who both nodded, the toddler grabbed the horse and pulled it from its perch.
Squealing with delight the child ran around the great room as if he himself were riding the great steed.
Maria, the housekeeper, knelt down to the toddler as he stopped in front of her and thrust the horse up for her inspection. At her approval, the child was off again riding like the wind.
Maria, his mother, called to her child, "Juanito it is time for breakfast come…"
Murdoch pulled his wife closer and whispered in her ear, "let him be, Maria will look out for him. I have a gift for you, upstairs."
The wife of Murdoch Lancer followed along at the insistent pull of her husband's hand. He was doing this now, why, she had made her mind up for a week to leave her husband and her marriage vows.
Blake had prepared, while most of the ranch hands and the patron were away selling the palomino horses, to come for Maria and Johnny and take them away from an indifferent man who cared more for the estancia than his young wife and small son.
LLLLLL
Murdoch sat fingering the gift he had given his wife that morning, deep blue the color of their sons eyes a perfect pair of drop earrings. The sapphires brilliant as the light from the lamps reflected back to him.
The man crushed the fobs in one hand and threw them across the room with as much forced as his pent up anger revealed. Why had she done this, if she was not happy why didn't she tell him? They could have worked something out; if she were not happy here, he would have sent her anywhere she wanted to go. Instead, she left like a thief in the night and stole his heart the reason for his long hours of blood, sweat, and tears to build this land for his sons.
The legacy he was building for Scott and John now crushed like their marriage vows before God and church under her booted feet.
Paul O'Brien, the Lancer Segundo, had just entered the hacienda and stood watching his patron and friend. Maria's deception and infidelity had hurt Murdoch deep in his soul, he could see the walls going up to hide the pain, and hurt, "I got the horses saddled, Cipriano and Isidro will ride with you," at no indication that he had been heard, "Murdoch?"
"I hear you Paul. Good, they are good men and good trackers. I hope to be gone a short time…. They cannot have gone very far on horseback with a two-year-old child."
Turning towards his friend Murdoch smiled, "I'll get John back; Maria can go on about her business of cheating and deceit".
Paul nodded, "you do what you have to do Murdoch. I'll take care of things here. This time of year, it's just everyday projects. So you go, get John, and come back to Lancer."
Placing a large hand on his friends shoulder, "Thank you Paul", and without another word, Murdoch strode from the hacienda, his Segundo right behind him.
As the three men rode from the compound Paul placed his hat on his head and turned, "God go with you my old friend, and may luck be by your side".
Luck nor God would have a hand in removing the grief from the heart of Murdoch Lancer. Mother Nature even stepped in to halt the progress of Cipriano and Isidro; two of the best trackers in the San Joaquin Valley, the cold rain fell and obliterated any tracks the unfaithful wife had left behind.
LLLLLL
Maria was warm within the embrace of her lover, her eyes slid over to the manger where her son slept. If nothing else she had accomplished with her desertion of an unhappy marriage, she had taken the one thing Murdoch Lancer desired above even his estancia.
His two sons, oh how he kept telling her of his elder son, Scott, and how he would go to Boston and fight to return his son to his birthright. How his sons, raised together, to claim the land as their own one day.
She was not proud of how she had crept away into the night, but she knew Murdoch Lancer would not release her son and Johnny was her son.
The doctor had said the birth had almost gone wrong, she had nearly died, and her son, that she would have no other children after Juanito. What choice did she have he was her son too, and Murdoch had another son, let him be content with his late wife's son.
Johnny moved, restless in his sleep, "Poppa, find Johnny…. Johnny home..."
Maria swept a tear from her cheek, "Shhh mi hijo, all will be good… sleep my child".
The small toddler clutched the worn blanket to his chest, a vision of sitting on top of a big horse in front of his Poppa and looking down at the white hacienda, his home.
A lonely man riding in the dark a sob in his throat as he felt a phantom weight in front of him in the saddle, "John", he croaked.
Stopping to look down at the single glow of a lamp in the window of the hacienda he thought of his two sons and how one day they would be here beside him, home.
Today
Johnny plucked the Paris original hat from his sister's hand and placed it on his own head, "OooLala, think tha girls down at tha sewin' circle would like my new hat?" The young man pranced around the room just out of reach of T'resa.
"Johnny Lancer, if you ruin my hat Scott had sent all the way from Paris for me I'll… I'll not make another cookie or cake for a year."
That stopped the young exuberant man dead in his tracks, "Ah now querida I was only joshin', it's a pretty hat", as he set it on her dark curls, "it looks right fine on ya. You'll be tha envy of all your little friends."
Teresa carefully plucked the hat from her head and eyed it critically, "well you're just lucky nothing is damaged.
Johnny bowed his head, tilted up just a little to catch her eye, "oh you know I forgive you. I swear you act like this is your first Christmas."
Her hand flew to her lips and her eyes grew bigger, "oh Johnny I'm sorry. I … I didn't mean."
Johnny grabbed his sister up in a big hug, "hey don't. I mean if you look at it another way this is my second Christmas at Lancer."
Releasing the young woman he wiped a tear from her cheek, "now go on an' open your present from me".
Johnny had seen the look on his father's face sadness, regret then when his father stood and left the room all Johnny could do was sigh and then smiled at the squeal of delight as T'resa opened her gift.
Scott lowered his head as if he were studying the rim of his wine goblet, even on a joyous day like Christmas there were still silent incriminations between Johnny and Murdoch.
Just what was it this time he asked himself? He turned his smile on his sister as she held up the lacy shawl with a brilliant red cabbage rose embroidered on the back.
He chuckled as she threw her arms around Johnny and gave him a peck on his cheek; the tough ex-gunfighter turned a nice shade of red under the dark tan of his face.
Laughter and joyous voices resounded from the Lancer great room as Murdoch carried the sealed crate from the storage room behind the kitchen.
It was not heavy, but covered in dust, years of dust. He had tried to clean some of the powder of time from the crate, but his hand stopped after the name was uncovered, he sat back on his heels and sighed, 'well mi hijo, better late than never'.
Everyone in the great room stopped and stared at the dusty figure of Murdoch Lancer and the crate held in front of him, "Ah, I have one more gift, sorry it's late, but I held it all these years for when Johnny came home".
"John", holding the crate out towards his younger son Murdoch smiled, "I held onto these gifts for nearly twenty years, don't really know why, just that I knew you would come home one day to claim them".
Johnny looked at Scott then T'resa, standing he moved slowly towards his father. Holding out his hands, he took possession, not sure, if he wanted what ghosts it contained, for surely after twenty years they were only phantoms encased in silent years.
Scott came over to his brother to lend him support knowing his brother was unsure of Murdoch's' 'gift', "come on Johnny I'll help you. Sit it over here on the table."
Johnny allowed Scott to lead him to the coffee table in front of the fireplace; Teresa appeared with a hammer and crowbar, "here these will help".
Scott smiled as he took the items, "thank you Teresa".
Amid screeching of rusty nails and splintering wood, the crate stripped of its covering the contents waited to see the light of day once more.
Scott nodded as his brother raised one hand to delve into the crate, "Go ahead brother, if it was alive when Murdoch put it in there it is surely dead now".
Looking up at his brother Johnny chuckled, "well then it might just be somthin' I could tan an' make a hat out of for T'resa".
The young woman in question took a swipe at her brother's dark haired head, "one day Johnny Lancer I will stop making you sweets".
"Ah, querida, if it were a coon, tha tail would right nice fallin' over yer shoulders", Johnny grinned and Teresa smiled back.
It was good to see the young man free of his ghosts and enjoy Christmas like everyone else. She was sure he never had the love of his family and friends surround him, accept who he had been, and feel pride of who he would be.
Murdoch smiled, a faraway smile in remembrance of a toddler standing in front of a decorated tree, no fear only caution then his breath caught as Johnny's blue eyes looked up to his father.
Nodding once he chuckled as the young man thrust his hand into the crate.
Pulling out a wood carved horse with golden horse hair mane and tail Johnny sat back on his heels, it was not so much a memory as a twinge of something found, something lost a long time ago.
The family watched as Johnny pulled from the crate wrapped gifts and as he opened each one that their feelings were of joy and sadness. For around him lay a child's toys a small pair of boots, a wooden top, carved wooden horses, and cattle.
Johnny had touched each one with reverence. Clearing the lump from his throat he croaked out, "gracias Poppa".
Teresa put a hand to her cheek to wipe away a tear, Scott put a gentle had on his brother's shoulder, and Murdoch knelt before his son, "you are welcome mi hijo".
Father and son looked at each other, nothing had to be said, the eyes said it all, the longing the sadness the happiness all amalgamated in the meeting and understanding of two pair of blue eyes, one dark one light.
A large work worn hand cupped the cheek of his son, "welcome home Johnny", Murdoch whispered.
LLLLLLL
Johnny and Scott distributed the toys and small clothing from the crate to the children of the vaqueros. As the sun was setting, Johnny stood in front of the Christmas tree, alone in the great room holding in his hands the carved wooden horse with the golden tail and mane.
He wished he could remember, but there was only fleeting feelings that tugged at his heart. He had been loved; it was obvious from the carefully chosen gifts, all picked out by the hand of his father.
Glancing over to the crèche, he spotted the baby Jesus all snug sleeping in a manger. How many times had he himself slept so, shaking the memories way a wide smile filled his face as Scott and T'resa joined him.
Then behind them the presence of a very big man, his long arms pulling them altogether, at first Johnny felt crushed between T'resa and Scott but the beating of his father's heart on his back calmed him.
Beaming a radiant smile a memory, riding in front of this man on a big horse, held securely and gently, and looking down into the valley with the white hacienda glowing in the sunlight.
Leaning back Johnny felt the massive arms squeeze more and he sighed, he was home.
"Merry Christmas to all
And to all a good night."
December 2014
solista