Someone To Ride The River With

by solista

Johnny is confused with the family life...but family is there for him.

"Someone To Ride The River With"

He was confused, stumped, muddled, whichever word you used to describe it, Johnny Madrid Lancer was at a total loss.

Tossing back a glass of tequila like it was a cool drink of water, he grimaced as the poor excuse for tequila hit his tongue and slid down into his belly.

Leaning forward he poured another shot, setting the bottle back on the table top, he himself sat back and crossing his arms over his chest he glared at the full glass, a frown on his lips and the icy blue of Madrid's eyes dared the drink to 'dance'.

Val Crawford, sheriff of Green River, California stood between the swinging doors of the Green River Saloon, his right hand on the top of one door and his other pushing his hat back further on his head. Making a sucking sound he pulled at his teeth with his tongue and stepped into the room.

With a nod to Bert, the bar tender, he did a slow walk to the sullen and glaring young man sitting, back to the wall, in the darkest corner of the room. Stopping beside the table, hands on hips, he stared down at the 'boy', "well, what done crawled up your craw?"

It was Johnny Madrid who turned eyes, the color of a cold mountain lake, up, to consider the face of a no-nonsense, scruffy, tin starred, pain in the butt, sheriff, "didn't ask for your company, amigo," he drawled as he picked up the glass and put it to his lips, tilting his head back, the liquid found its way to his stomach to join the other three.

Without asking or being invited, the sheriff pulled out a chair and sat his skinny butt down, meanwhile Bert brought a cup of dark rich coffee and sitting it carefully down in front of Val, glanced over to the young man, "Johnny?"

The blue icy stare, warmed some as they glanced once into the face of the concerned bar-keep, "I'm just fine Bert," then added, "bring me a beer and whiskey."

With a final glance to Val, lips pressed tight, Bert nodded and turned back to his bar to collect the ex-gunfighters request.

With a frown turned to his friend's direction, "all-mighty, Jelly said you was one peed off porcupine, what's got you all in a pucker."

Picking up his cup of steaming coffee, the sheriff looked over the rim and sipped the hot liquid, waiting for an answer.

Johnny waited until Bert returned with a bottle of whiskey and a mug of cool beer, with a nod and a 'gracias', he waited a few seconds more as Bert turned and left the two men to it.

Picking up the whiskey bottle Johnny tipped a full measure into his empty shot glass. Carefully replacing the bottle on the table top, his other hand picked up the glass and moved it to his lips with a smile, "don't know if I can do it Amigo."

With a grimace at the burn to his throat, the glass was roughly banged on the table and left there as his hand sought the mug of beer, "mierda", the beer followed the whiskey

Sipping his coffee, Val waited, you never rushed Johnny Madrid if you wanted a straight answer and not some cock-n-bull yarn.

Johnny took his time as he drank half the mug in a few gulps. Lowering the heavy glass mug to the table, it sat, with a thump, beside the empty glass. Wiping away the froth around his lips with his hand and sitting back in his chair, head bowed, "this 'family' thing, these 'people' all tryin' so hard." With eyes filled with sorrow, Johnny brought his head up and locked eyes with is old friend.

"I don't know if I can…," with a sigh that came from deep down, Johnny bowed his head again and slumped in his seat.

Val lowered his coffee mug and placing it on the table, wrapped both hands around the cup, his own head bowed as he studied the steaming mug, "ya know ya can't change overnight. Fact being, someone with yer past sometimes don't ever change."

Looking up he stared at his younger friend, or at least the top of his dark-haired head.

"But ya never hit bottom. I hope maybe I had a hand in that, stearin' ya to that right path," Val grinned as his friend lifted his head, a tilted smile on his lips and a rejoinder on his tongue.

"I think ya did keep me from fallin' all tha way, Amigo. I was sure on tha path an' tha devil had a hand on my shoulder," leaning forward once more in his chair, the blue eyes sought his friend's brown ones.

"It's just, well, family is a word I haven't had dealin's with since I was ten, or there abouts. I mean, I had a good start with momma, even though she left out that my papa always wanted me."

Johnny stumbled over the words as the hurt over his mother's betrayal sank in, "then ta come back with another truth momma never said, 'bout me havin' an older brother," looking away and settling back in his chair, "I just…"

Val nodded, "ya got a bum deal fer sure from those that confessed ta love ya."

With a squint to his eyes the friend sat forward and waited until the younger man looked up, "but that's in tha past now, this here is today an' your future is staring ya dead in tha eyes. So, buck up buttercup an' let 'er buck."

Johnny Madrid faded as Johnny Lancer came forward, "You're a good amigo Val, I'm glad I pulled yer fat outta tha fire an' let ya beat at those walls I had built around me…"

"I hope that you will allow me the chance to sling a hammer at those walls, brother," the voice, cultured, low and full of hope came from the tall, slender blond-haired cowboy, with a bit of a dandy about him.

Johnny watched his brother, step through the saloon doors and it put a light in the darkness of his heart, "Scott."

Johnny kicked out a chair beside him, welcoming his older brother.

Scott sat and folded his arms over his chest and with one raised, blond eyebrow contemplating his 'baby' brother said, "talk to me, brother."

Scott gave a nod to Val then concentrated on his brother, and waited, earlier in their relationship he knew if you waited you would be rewarded.

Bert once again made his way to the table and placed a fresh beer by Johnny's elbow and a second mug for Scott, "Scott."

"Thank you, Bert," with a nod between them the bartender turned and left the men alone.

He knew Johnny Lancer had a temper and if rubbed wrong could explode, thank the Lord that Val and Scott were there to rein in the young ex-gunfighter.

"So, I ain't getting' nowhere with this closed-mouth reprobate, how 'bout you fill me in," Val turned to the elder Lancer brother and grinned as Johnny fidgeted in his seat.

Lifting the mug of beer to his lips, Scott took a drink and carefully replaced the mug on the table, using two fingers he wiped the froth from his lip.

"Let me ask you something, Val, as a friend of Johnny Madrid you would know if he was a man who reacted first without fully realizing the ins and outs of a situation, or if…" Scott was cut short as his brother slammed a hand down on the table top, making the glasses jump.

"You don't know anything about it, 'brother'," Johnny said between clenched teeth.

Scott nodded in agreement, "and that is why I ask an old friend of yours to elaborate and give me a background of how someone as methodical and efficient as Madrid…"

"It's Lancer," Jelly Hoskins, handyman and friend to the Lancers entered the saloon and without preamble took a chair beside Val.

Johnny shook his head and sighed, "what's this, gang up on Johnny day," with a glare to each man, "don't any of you got anything better to do."

Val sipped his coffee, "nope."

Scott sipped his beer, "nothing, at the moment."

Jelly pulled on the straps of his suspenders, "I'm right where I need ta be."

Sitting back in his chair, Johnny folded his arms over his chest, sighed and frowned, blue eyes sending daggers of cold ice to every man around the table.

Scott sat his mug down and leaned toward his brother, "I know you generally take yourself off to ponder the situation when things become, irrational. Johnny I am here for you."

With a grin, decidedly not joyful, Johnny looked hard at his brother, "someone ta 'bounce' things off, so to speak."

Thinking he was getting through to his brother Scott nodded, "yes, a sounding board.

"Well let me tell ya 'brother' tha only thing I'm 'bouncing' off ya would be my fist, and soundly thrashing ya," Johnny slammed his hands on the table top to push himself up.

Looking down at strong fingers circling his left wrist Johnny turned his eyes to Val, "you hold it right there, amigo. Ain't gonna be no bouncin' or thrashin' 'round here today, comprende."

Val squeezed harder until Johnny nodded, "then set yer butt back in that chair and listen ta 'good' advice for a change," with a nod to Scott, Val released his hold on Johnny's wrist and sat back in his chair.

"Al' mighty boy, ya got a chance most men never get. You gettin' your family back, made for me ta get myself a life, a life I like. You sit back an' think fer a minute on how many people you touch," Val stood, "I'm gonna get me another cup o' Bert's coffee," with a nod to the older man beside him, "Jelly."

Jellifer Hoskins nearly always got tha last say, "'n you 'member, you're Johnny Lancer now, you ain't so big I can't take a switch to yer skinny behind."

Scott stifled a chuckle and bowed his head as the sheriff and handyman took their leave of the two brothers.

A low mumble from his left side and Scott turned his head, "I would say Johnny Madrid has met his match today."

"Funny, brother," Johnny growled out as he wrapped his hand around the whiskey bottle and tipped the brown liquid into his empty glass, "none of ya 'ceptin' Val, could know anything about Madrid."

Scott smiled, "I beg to differ," holding up a hand as if to deflect his younger siblings reply, "it's true I have always had a roof over my head, clean sheets and food on the table," speaking lower, "that is except for a year. I never really had a family."

Johnny looked up, blue sapphire eyes squinting at his blond sibling, "you always had your abuelo and a crowd of servants, so don't…"

Scott leaned back in his chair, a sadness in his blue-grey eyes, "yes, I always had grandfather, and he was good to me. I am grateful to him for an excellent education a beautiful home." Sitting up.

"And introductions into the finest homes in Boston society, but I didn't have a brother."

Johnny stopped mid-way filling his glass and looked with sharp eyes at his blond-haired hermano. Pulling up the bottle the younger man sat it with a quiet thump on the table, "Scott, I…"

Blue-grey eyes searched the face of his little brother Scott smiled, and held up a gloved hand.

"Johnny, I just want you to understand no matter the 'friends', and I use the word loosely, or the homes I frequented, or the education I had," with a tilt of his aristocratic head, "or the nurturing from my grandfather, I still missed something in my life."

Sitting back in his chair, Scott removed his gloves, slowly and lay them folded upon each other at the corner of the table.

Johnny grasped his half-filled glass and pressing the glass to his lips, tossed the liquid back, "I would never admit it to anyone, let alone to myself, all the years ridin' alone, I was lookin' for somethin',"

Sitting the empty glass down he folded his hands in front of him on the table top, "I had 'friends' too, but never trusted 'em enough ta turn my back on 'em. I…" looking deep into his brother's eyes, "Momma an' me had a life, sometimes better than most folks on tha border an'," with a dip of his head to hide the pain in his face, "sometimes not."

Scott sat silent, Johnny had never been so forth coming of his past, but then neither had he. There was a bond between them, something nontangible, implausible but strong and by the grace of God and unfailing love of family, it would grow stronger.

"Lo siento," the heartfelt sentiment was spoken softly, followed by a quiet chuckle, "well there's one you could write down in that journal ya keep, brother.

Johnny Madrid apologizin' an'," Johnny fell silent as he waited for Scott to look at him, "I'm thinkin' that I need ta give a big lo siento to tha Ol' Man as well."

Scott grinned as Johnny dipped his head, hiding a grin of his own, "little brother, that may well be something of monumental proportions to transcribe in my journal."

Johnny looked up, "smart ass."

*L*

The ride back to Lancer was slow, as the brothers rode silently beside the heavily laden wagon driven by Jelly.

"Get up there Becky, move it Prudence," the silence was broken as Jelly slapped the reigns on the backs of the big work horses, looking to his side the old handyman took in the sight of the Lancer brothers.

To be so different in coloring, in temperament and rearing, they both didn't fall far from the tree, so to speak. Both as stubborn as Murdoch Lancer, patron, business man and father.

Johnny moved easily as the horse he rode had an easy stride, the leather of his finely tooled saddle creaked. His hat was pulled low over his forehead, eyes shadowed, he contemplated.

This latest fiasco with Murdoch Lancer, his father, had taken a bad turn in this family relationship thing. Since coming to Lancer he and Scott agreed the Ol' Man would 'call the tune', it was understood that meant in matters of the ranch, not their personal social life.

Having been independent since he was ten years old, Johnny found it hard to accept the 'fatherly' tune his Ol' Man called.

He understood his momma had hurt the man, and Murdoch never got the chance to be a father to two sons, but did that give him the right to dictate, a Scott word, how and when his sons would come and go and who they associated with.

A small shake of his head, Johnny's lips turned up into a tilted smile. Yeah that was a good, solid head butt the Ol' Man came back with, 'you are my son, and if I see you are heading down a path that would get you hurt, then I call the tune, period,'.

Scott looked over at his brother, and grinned, the boy was as wild as California and twice as unpredictable. But then, on the other hand, he was as fresh as the wind sweeping down from the mountains and as beautiful as Lancer was itself.

Generous to a fault, the boy would give you the shirt off his back if he thought it would help.

Scott dipped his head thinking back to the Lancer great room hours earlier. The astonished look on Johnny's face when he felt betrayed by his big brother, 'Johnny, we, all of us here at Lancer are family, your family. We love you, brother'. When you do something as foolish as you did we…."

"I don't need you pullin' at tha lasso as if ya gotta break me, I know what I'm doin'. Been doin' ok for some time now," Johnny's rant quieted, glancing up at his father and brother, "look you both gotta give me some slack. I…."

"John," Murdoch locked onto the eyes of his younger son, "what you did was unacceptable and dangerous."

"Look, Ol' Man, nobody else was involved it was all on me, ain't like I'm a snot-nosed little kid, I been around," Johnny groused to the two older men.

"Johnny," Scott stepped closer to his little brother, and Johnny was his 'little' brother.

Throwing up his hands Johnny turned away from his family, "I've had enough...I can't do this anymore."

The elder Lancer's watched as the younger man stalked off, away from them, away from family.

Scott dipped his head and Murdoch felt his stomach drop, "Scott," the soft voice was unexpected, "please son, go after him," a sigh, "bring him home."

*L*

The solitude was broken as the sound of shod hooves beat a rapid tattoo on the hard pan road.

Stopping their homeward journey, the brothers sat, on alert, waiting for the men to approach.

A smile lit Johnny's face as he saw the Green River sheriff ride, hell-bent for leather, with a small armed posse behind him.

In a swirl of dust the posse pulled up beside the wagon and the Lancer brother's, "Johnny, Scott," Val called, out of breath, "need yer help."

Scott frowned at the sheriff as his eyes scanned the men behind him, "not to sound as if I am, not, a concerned citizen, but you appear to have a full crew."

Johnny gave an ungentlemanly snort, his trained eye also took in the 'posse', a barkeep, a store keep, a couple of wranglers and a livery man, "come on Scott, Val needs tha help, or he wouldn't ask."

The older Lancer glared at his brother, knowing no amount of persuading would change that mischievous grin or the sparkle in the blue eyes looking back, "Murdoch will…"

Making that little puffing sound from his lips, "pfftt," Johnny gave his spiel, "Murdoch will understand. He's always goin' on 'bout getting' more involved in being a citizen an' pillar of tha community."

Scott knew he had lost the debate, before he even started, with Val's plea for help and the sheriff's hangdog eyes. Throwing up his hands Scott acceded, "alright. But I am riding with you."

Turning to Jelly, Scott sighed out, "please tell, our father, that his sons are fulfilling the needs of the community."

*L*

Johnny ducked down behind the rock, bumping shoulders with his brother and grinning, "whooee those boys are hunkered down right tight," as he wiped his face with his hand, smearing blood across his cheek.

The ever-diligent big brother pulled out a clean handkerchief from his pocket and applied it to his little brother's cheek, "and I would appreciate it, if you would stay hunkered down here beside me."

Johnny pushed at the hand dabbling at his face, "an' where's tha fun in that, big brother."

Pushing himself up, Johnny fired a few more rounds at the outlaws ensconced in the boulders above them, dropping back down as another volley of hot lead peppered the rocks he and Scott hid behind, "this ain't gonna work. We gotta get up behind 'em."

Breaking open his pistol Johnny reloaded, "you're tha army man, you figure somethin' out," as he snapped closed the chamber and wiped the sweat from his face and the small trickle of blood on his cheek from the stone chips.

Scott looked closely at Johnny and gave him the smile he showed only to his 'little' brother, "you are enjoying yourself so much I would hate to end this adventure from our everyday life on our father's ranch, to a swift conclusion."

Johnny grinned back, "well I tell ya 'brother' I missed lunch, it's nigh close ta supper an' my belly is near enough to my spine ta shake hands," with a glint in his blue eyes, "an' I'm gettin' a might prickly that these yahoos don't know when ta give up," with a tilt of his head, "I may do somethin' stupid, real soon."

Scott shook his blond-haired head and frowned, he knew his brother was right, Johnny Madrid would do something foolish to end this stand-off. Taking a quick look around, the military man in the Bostonian gentleman, began to run scenarios through his logical, quick thinking mind.

Johnny looked at his brother and smiled, he could almost see the cogs turning in that Harvard educated brain. There were a few ways around this mess, and as Johnny Madrid he could pull them off, but he enjoyed his big brothers analytical mind at work. Besides, big brother needed the practice.

*L*

The posse, tired, a little worse for wear and glad the ordeal of capturing the outlaws was over, rode slowly back to Green River.

Scott glanced back, Val Crawford sat his horse in a tired slouch, behind him the posse looked just as tired.

The outlaws, secured to their saddle pommels, knew the freedom they had enjoyed just this morning was now over. No lives were lost, but there were a few injuries, as Scott swiveled his eyes towards his brother.

Johnny, in his casual slouch in his saddle, fingered the bandage wrapped around his upper arm, "stop playing with it, you'll make it bleed again," Scott quipped at his 'little' brother.

"Well if'n you'd said jig instead of jag I'da been just fine," Johnny groused back.

"If I remember right, brother, I did. However, Mister Madrid had decided he knew better and took the initiative that ended up getting Johnny Lancer shot," Scott frowned, "Murdoch will not take this too lightly, I am afraid."

Johnny gave up playing with the tightly wrapped bullet hole and nodded, "yeah he don't like ta lose a cow hand this time o' year."

Scott tapped his brother's shoulder to attract the younger man's attention, "that is not what I mean. Our father takes a dim view of either of his sons getting injured, in anyway."

Johnny digested his brother's words, "ya think he really cares. I mean we ain't kids an' I was never coddled much when I got hurt," with a small shrug of his shoulder, "ya just sucked it up and got on with it."

Scott dipped his head and sighed, "was it bad Johnny, growing up alone with no one to care for you. I can't ever remember being alone, except for Libby."

Johnny grinned, "oh I was never really alone.

When I hadta hole up somewhere for," Johnny shifted in his saddle, "well, for getting' in tha way of a stray bullet, I usually holed up with someone I could trust as far as a dollar went."

Scott looked aghast at his brother, "you had to pay someone to watch your back?"

Johnny grinned, and lifted his good shoulder, "I had good relations with a few bordellos an' tha madam was always happy ta get tha extra money."

Seeing the expression on his brother's face, Johnny smiled, "it wasn't so bad. Ya make of it for how it was," with a slap to Scott's arm, "hey I'm still here."

Scott grew serious as he glared at the man beside him, "and here you will stay, little, brother. With a family that cares about your well-being," pointing a gloved finger at his brother, "and see that you stay out of trouble."

Johnny bowed his head, tilted towards his bandaged arm. Lifting his head to look at his brother, his face lit with a mischievous smile, "yeah, well how ya gonna explain this ta Murdoch."

Scott relaxed, he knew the graze, though it was a deep graze to his brother's arm, would heal, "I will of course tell him the truth. You jagged when you should have jigged, not listening to his older, wiser brother, you reaped the consequences."

Johnny kept the grin on his face, "yeah, but he won't yell at me as much at you, for not keepin' his baby boy safe and damaged free."

Scott nodded his head, "you are right brother. And I will reap my own consequences for not taking better care of you."

Johnny felt bad for baiting his brother, he knew Scott felt deeply about having a brother and a family and took his position as 'big' brother seriously, "ah Scott, you know I don't take orders too well. Even tha Ol' Man has figured that out."

With blue sapphire eyes locking onto grey-blue eyes, "Scott, I don't say it often enough, but gracias, thanks for being mi hermano."

At the sentiment from Johnny, Scott felt, he couldn't find the word to describe how he felt, enlightened, joyous, complete. It was as if his very soul found pieces that had been missing from his life for many years, in the form of a brother and a father. A family.

It was that moment Val Crawford rode up beside the brother's, "well I'm gonna leave ya here, while I take tha prisoners ta jail."

Scott looked around and realized they had come to the turn off where one road led to town and the other to the Lancer ranch.

Johnny grinned at the sheriff, "ok Val," with mischief in his eyes, "if Murdoch want's ta know how ya'll," taking in his brother with a sweep of his hand, "let me get shot up. I'll send him right to town."

Val squinted at his friend, glanced at the bandage, then to Scott then back to Johnny, "yeah an' I'd be sure an' tell 'im that his baby boy needs ta have his britches lit with a switch for not followin' his big brother, or my, instructions," grinning at his friend, "comprende?"

Val pulled the reins of his horse and turned back to the exhausted posse and disgruntled prisoners, "see ya 'round boys," Val hollered as he rode off.

"Yeah, see ya," Johnny shot back.

"Later, Val," Scott added.

It was then the brothers looked at each other, and a pair of lips turned up in a tilted smile. Scott nodded once then put booted heels gently to his horse's side. Johnny shifted in his saddle and the golden palomino followed.

*L*

Johnny rode in a silent stupor; the excitement of the chase and apprehension of the outlaws had fed the fires of discord in his soul.

Glancing across to his brother, "ya know. I always got an' excitement outta…"

"Putting yourself in the line of fire," with a shake of his head Scott, frowned at his brother, "just what were you thinking. Don't tell me Johnny Madrid would have put himself out there like that. What happened to the cool, reserved…"?

Johnny ducked his head, "don't. I, well that is," with a glance to Scott, "ya don't understand."

Scott pulled back on the reins and made a grab at Johnny's mounts halter, "then help me understand. I just found you and I don't want to lose you to some childish folly."

Sapphire blue eyes, growing cold as a mountain lake reflected that Scott had gone too far, "I was never a child to enjoy any kinda folly. Everything I did was so I could….," Johnny dropped his eyes and looked away.

Scott waited, "so you could?"

"Feel alive," Johnny turned back, "so I could feel."

*L*

The brothers had talked for another hour on the overlook before riding slowly down the lane to the hacienda.

The lanterns on the portico and barns lit to chase away the early evening were a welcoming sight to Scott and Johnny.

This was home, both men knew it deep in their very souls. They may travel but they would always return to Lancer.

Jose ran from the barn as he spotted the patrons sons enter the courtyard, "Senior Scott, Senior Johnny, I will tend the horses."

Scott dismounted and handed his reins over to the young man, "thank you, Jose."

Waiting for his brother to dismount, Scott looked up at the house as the door opened, and their father was silhouetted in the light, "well, brother, the welcoming committee has appeared."

Glancing towards the hacienda Johnny grinned, "might be an unwelcoming committee," as he dismounted to stand beside his brother handing the reins of his palomino to Jose, "gracias, Jose. I'll be in later to bed 'im down."

The ranch hands of Lancer knew, unless the youngest Lancer was sick, he would tend to his golden horse himself. Not that the elder son would not come to curry or spoil his mount, the younger brother saw to his horse every night.

Following Jose with their eyes, the brothers watched as he led the horses to the warm barn with its lure of sweet hay and oat.

A glance at each other, the brothers standing shoulder to shoulder looked back up at the hacienda and the imposing figure still, silently standing in the glow of the many lamps lit behind him.

With a sigh, Scott gave Johnny a tight-lipped grin, "well, brother, may as well get it done, as you would say."

Johnny gave Scott's tight stomach a gentle back-hand slap as he began to move forward, "ain't how I'd say it, brother," with a cheeky grin and a sparkle in his blue eyes, "but, yeah, let's get 'er done 'fore tha Ol' Man comes gunnin' for us."

Scott shook his head at his audacious younger brother and took the first step towards the master of 'tune calling'.

It wasn't that he or Johnny were afraid of Murdoch Lancer. It was more of a grudging respect for a man who carved an empire with his own arms, legs and guts.

Catching up to Johnny, Scott threw his arm across the shoulders of his brother. Johnny took a hesitant glace to Scott, "sooo, what'll ya think he'd do?"

Patting Johnny on the back, Scott pinned his grey-blue eyes to the deeper blue of his brothers, "you he will admonish for your foolishness."

After a sigh and a chuckle, "then send for Doctor Jenkins, have Maria boil some willow bark tea, which in turn will bring Teresa to fuss over you and send you directly to bed, after Jelly has been given the chore of washing away all this trail dust, and blood."

Johnny dipped his head, "I ain't worth all that fussin' over Scott," with a shrug of his shoulder, "I don't know why tha Ol' Man even keeps tryin'."

Scott stopped abruptly, his hand on Johnny's shoulder clamped down and swung the younger man around to face him.

With a gloved forefinger dancing in front of his face, the blue-grey color of Scott's eyes looked like a storm-tossed sea and Johnny dipped his head, "lo siento."

Placing both hands on Johnny's shoulders, "look at me brother," Scott waited until he saw the blue of Johnny's eyes, "what do you have to be sorry for."

Glancing over Johnny's head at their father who had moved to just behind the younger Lancer, he gave a curt nod. Murdoch folded his arms over his chest and silently listened.

"Why do you think we put up with you," Scott removed one gloved hand from Johnny's shoulder to place it gently under his brothers chin and lift his head.

Looking at the confusion swirling within the depths of the emotional blue eyes, "because you are family. My 'little' brother, Murdoch Lancer's 'little' boy and we as family will never judge you or turn you away," moving his hand to the back of Johnny's neck, Scott gently squeezed, "we love you, brother."

Johnny nodded his head and stepped away from Scott, "ok, brother don't go gettin' so soppy."

With a slight turn and a gentle slap to Scott's stomach Johnny ran into a brick wall, or so it felt like it, "ah, hey Murdoch, didn't see ya there."

Arms folded over his chest, Murdoch Lancer stared down at his younger son, "so I would gather.

Scott stepped up and solidly stood beside Johnny, head bowed as he concentrated on removing his gloves, one finger at a time.

A smile quirked the corners of his lips as he felt his 'little' brother shift slightly closer and their shoulders touched.

"Well, son. I am waiting for an explanation," the rock solid, growling voiced, tune caller stared down at his younger son. Scott's head jerked up to reprimand their father's seemingly uncaring attitude, holding his tongue as he caught the smile on their father's face.

Johnny cursed under his breath, his good hand grabbing the igniting pain in his opposite arm as he released a heart rending sigh, "Listen Ol' Ma…." He stopped his tirade as he looked up seeing the smile on his father's face and the look of concern in his faded blue eyes.

"I think sir, my brother needs a nap and some of Theresa's willow bark tea," Scott pulled Johnny into a hug with his arm across the younger man's shoulders.

Murdoch stared into the sapphire, painfilled, blue eyes of his younger son, "I believe you are right son," as he placed a strong arm across his younger son's shoulders, locking both sons under his embrace.

Johnny was baffled, as his feet moved under the gentle push between his brother and father towards the hacienda, what the heck just happened.

He heard the swish of skirts and petticoats as T'resa rushed to his side, "Oh, Johnny. I knew it was you," she prattled on and on about a bath, clean bandages, soft comfortable bed and…. the dreaded willow bark tea, "Scott you and Murdoch get Johnny upstairs I've already got Jelly drawing a bath, Maria is starting the tea…"

Scott gently tightened his fingers on Johnny's good shoulder and leaned over, "welcome home brother."

Murdoch released his hold as the trio approached the door, even its large opening would not admit three men abreast, "I'll get your bed turned down, son."

Johnny and Scott watched the older man, their father, Murdoch Lancer, the tune caller enter the hacienda ahead of them.

Scott lost his hold on his brother as Johnny abruptly stopped, "Johnny?"

"I…," blowing out a breath, head bowed Johnny stood silently, a slight shiver shaking his frame, "Gracias."

Deep blue eyes locked onto grey-blue eyes, "Thanks for being there for me, an' not givin' up on me."

Scott's eyes softened as he once again placed his arm across Johnny's shoulder, "Jelly was giving me a lesson on western slang the other day. The one that caught my attention was, "someone to ride the river with," and let me tell you 'brother', whatever 'river' we may tread, I am so very glad I have you beside me."

Johnny's smile was soft and it seemed as if there may have been dust in the air as his blue eyes watered, "Scott, mi hermano, I 'will' always be beside you. I'm 'home' an' ain't nothin' gonna pull or push me away."

Murdoch grinned as his two sons slowly made their way up the grand staircase, his heart felt over-joyed as he heard his youngest declare he would never leave Lancer, "come on son, let's get you cleaned up and in bed. There are two very eager women at Lancer who want to fuss and coddle you."

Johnny may have spoken aloud about all the fussin' and coddlin', but he dearly loved the 'two women' Murdoch mentioned.

Appearing from the end of the hallway, Jelly Hoskins, friend, handyman, sounding board carried two buckets of water, "well come on, get that there youngin' in here. Lord knows if it weren't for me…."

Johnny and Scott both chuckled as the older man ducked into Johnny's room, 'make that two 'women', and one old 'hen'.

Murdoch grasped his younger son, "let's get it over with son, and when you get on your feet again we will have a serious discussion about 'family'."