Title: The Gunman's Woman
Author: Charlene Edwards
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: The Lancers are owned by 20th Century Fox but I would buy Johnny if they'd let me. Please!
Synopsis: This fic takes place 2 years after Chase a Wild Horse and 1 year after Shadow of a Dead Man. This is the boy's 3rd year at Lancer.
Thanks to my wonderful betas Lacy, Ros, Vickie, & Em. This is my first Lancer fic. I hope you all enjoy. Char :-)

THE GUNMAN'S WOMAN: Part 1:

"Grady! Grady Lancer! You come here right this minute," the slender, red headed woman called out from the door of the general store.

"Aw, Ma, do I haf'ta?" the eight year old asked with a sigh. He stood up from the game of marbles he was engaged in. He kicked the dirt, shoved his hands in his pockets, and meandered over to his mother.

"Yes, you have to. Grady Lancer," she started, taking her hand, dusting him off. "You've gotten yourself just as dirty as you can be."

"I wuz just playing, Ma."

She smiled at him and straightened his mop of dark brown hair. "I know that. You don't get to come to town often enough."

He shrugged and smiled at her. "It's okay, Ma. But I wuz enjoying playing marbles with the fellas."

She placed her hands on her hips and tried to look serious as she stared down into his little face. "All right, you go on and play marbles. I can make our order and load the wagon by myself."

"Sure would be nice if Johnny were here. He'd help ya load the wagon, Ma."

"Yes. Yes he would," she said with a smile as she thought back to their somewhat frequent visitor ... Johnny Madrid. But he wasn't Madrid, he was Lancer. Johnny Lancer. Jessamie had never thought when she chose the Lancer name that she'd ever meet the man who owned it. It was just a name on a sign tacked to a tree in front of what seemed to be abandoned property that she had made into her home. Well, she still hadn't met the man who had owned the property, not really, but she had met his son. And what a meeting they had had.

Jessamie smiled as she thought of Johnny. He was incredibly handsome; she noticed that immediately, even if she was pointing her rifle at him. Those blue eyes that seemed to sparkle out from under his unruly black hair with a hint of wickedness. Her fear of strangers, particularly the stranger she knew was looking to kill her, made her understandably nervous. Johnny was not deterred by her gruff exterior or her rifle. She couldn't help but stifle a laugh though when she recalled him saying "No little woman with a big gun --" No he never did finish that sentence. He was lying on his backside looking up at her after she had peppered the ground with bullets. And he laughed. What a wonderful laugh he had too. It made her tingle inside when she heard it ... made her want to put her rifle down. But her fear had taught her to keep it up.

Thank God he didn't back down. Why Johnny played along with her, telling her he was Johnny Madrid, and then helping her knowing that she wasn't really a Lancer, she'd never know. She would be eternally grateful for it however. Johnny had saved her life and her son's. She should have paid more attention to Grady's instincts than her own. She had made such a huge mistake ... it had almost been fatal for all three of them. If not for Johnny, she and Grady would be dead.

Johnny should've hated her -- for trusting Harner, for throwing his gun out the window, for using a name she didn't have a right to. Yet, he didn't hate her. He told her he was proud of the use she had made of the Lancer name. He let her tend to his injury ... Harner's bullet in his shoulder. He had stayed a few more days and they had really gotten to know each other. And then ... one day a few months later ... Johnny rode back in. He stayed and helped out again. Her "hired hand". And he'd kept it up, visiting them every few months, staying a week or so, each time helping them out.

Helping her out. Out of the shell she had built around herself. Jessamie had built walls around herself ever since the man who was Grady's natural father had attacked her, forcing himself on her. She hadn't let anyone in ... until Johnny. Over this past year, Johnny had worked his way into her house, her life and her heart.

"Mrs. Lancer?"

Jessamie turned. "Oh, Mr. Palmer, I'm sorry, I was lost in thought. What did you say?"

"I was saying that bolt of material you wanted has come in." She followed the elderly shop keeper inside.

Two men stepped from around the corner of the building. Trail dust covered their already dirt stained clothes. "Lancer?" the younger of the two men said. "You think she's any relation to that Lancer who killed Eli, Pa?"

Samuel Stryker's eyes narrowed as he thought. "Could be, Davey boy, could be. You head into the store and see what you hear. Don't steal nuthin' while you're in there. I'm gonna go lissen to that little boy a bit."

"If they are related to the Lancers?"

"Well, we might just get to do what's needed doing since your brother was murdered."

Stryker moved across the street seeming to head toward the water trough near the tree where a group of four young boys were playing marbles. He took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow as he sat on the edge of the water trough.

"Is that a real cat's eye marble, Grady?" Seth Watkins asked.

"Uh huh, it is. Johnny got it for me last month when he took Ma and me to Sacramento for the week," Grady replied.

The oldest of the boys, a boy who seemed to be around ten with pale blond hair, looked wide-eyed. "Your hired hand took you and your Ma to Sacramento? Ain't never heard of a hired hand doing that before."

"Well," Grady said as his small hand shot the bright blue ball towards the others, "Johnny's our friend too, Billy. He's not just a hired hand. He's had other jobs too. Lots of them. But he helps us out whenever he's around here."

"Yeah, I know what kind of other jobs he has," Seth said watching the marbles. "I got books on him."

Grady looked up from the game. "What'cha mean ya got books on Johnny? Why'd somebody write a book on Johnny?"

Seth rolled his eyes and rocked back on his heels as he fished a folded dime novel from his back pocket. "You told me his name was Johnny Madrid. He's a gunfighter." He handed the book across to Grady while the other two boys stretched to look at the cover.

Grady's eyes were wide as he read the title "Johnny Madrid, Dangerous Desperado". Grady stammered. "Uhm ... well ... I knew he was a famous gunfighter. My Pa was a famous gunfighter too and they knew each other."

"Ain't never heard of no gunfighter named Lancer," Billy said indignantly.

"I have," Stryker interjected, drawing the attention of all four boys. The children stood and moved closer to the water trough and the stranger who sat there.

"You've heard of ... my ... Pa?" Grady asked tentatively. He'd never known anything about his father. His mother didn't speak about him other than to tell Grady that he had died before Grady was born, and she had only once said that his father had been killed. Grady had just made the rest of it up. At least, he thought he had.

"John Lancer. He's a mighty famous gunfighter. He your Pa?" Stryker asked.

The child nodded. Grady sighed inwardly. He didn't know his father's first name. That was another thing his mother had never told him. But John was the same as Johnny's name, and he had wished so many nights that Johnny was his Pa. And now ... here's someone who knew of a John Lancer. Yes, that could be his Pa.

"I still ain't heard of no gunfighter named Lancer," Billy Martin said with conviction. "And he can't be that good or that famous if he's dead."

Grady looked down at the dirt while Stryker watched the boys. Stryker laughed. "Well, you haven't heard of him using the Lancer name because that's not what he hired out as. But some folks, well they know his real name. Lots of men change their names ... especially outlaws and gunfighters." Stryker watched the young boy who was watching his foot shift the dirt in a circle. "Besides, whoever said he was dead?"

Grady's head jerked up. "He's not dead? Ma said he died before I was born."

Stryker nodded his head in a knowing fashion. "I can see why she might. Outlaws and gunfighters have enemies. Enemies who would hurt them through their family."

"Well, what name does Grady's Pa use hiring out?" Seth asked.

Stryker watched the boys, especially Grady. After Lancer had killed Eli, he had done some asking around. He'd found out that the boy was more than a cowboy working on his father's range. He was a gunfighter ... a hired killer. Eli never had a chance. Stryker remembered to this day watching as Lancer gunned his son down. How Eli clutched his abdomen and fell to the ground, and how pale he looked when he breathed his last breath. His eyes narrowed, he focused on Grady. So this was a little secret Lancer thought he had nice and safely tucked away from the world. Stryker's heart turned to stone and he replied, "Johnny Madrid."

Grady's blue eyes grew wide as saucers. His small mouth fell open. Johnny? His real name was Lancer? Clutching the dime novel to his chest, Grady turned and ran to the buckboard scrambling into the back. He was breathing hard. His heart was thundering in his chest. Could it be possible? He looked down at the book he held in his hand. Johnny really was a gunfighter. Grady had thought that he might be. After all, Johnny rode in on the back trails, real sneaky like, just like the other book had said outlaws did. And Johnny never did answer when he asked him if he was running away from the law, never said if he was or he wasn't. Then he had killed that bad man who had wanted to kill his Ma.

But ... was Johnny his Pa? That man said Johnny Madrid's real name was Lancer. His name was Lancer. Could it be true? Grady closed his eyes and prayed that it was true.

"Grady?" Jessamie's voice called as she walked out of the store. "Honey, are you all right? I thought you were playing marbles?"

Grady turned his head and watched as his friends sat enraptured by the stories the man sitting on the water trough was telling them. Stories about Johnny. Stories he wanted desperately to hear and yet, was scared to hear. "I'm ready to go home, Ma."

Jessamie's eyes narrowed as she moved over to her son. Her hand felt of his forehead. "Are you getting sick?"

"No, Ma, I just wanna go home," he waited until she turned to put her packages in the back of the wagon before he slipped the dime novel in his shirt. He'd read it later. When his Ma wasn't watching. "Ma, when's Johnny coming again?"

"I don't know Grady. Soon, I'm sure." She smiled. Soon. But not soon enough.

Davey Stryker exited the store and watched the wagon driven by the red haired woman making its way down the dusty street. Seeing his father by the water trough he walked over. A smile formed on his dirty face as he heard the story his father was telling the young boys.

"-- a devil he is. Johnny Madrid would kill a man for a dollar. I've heard tell he killed men just because they looked at him wrong."

Seth nodded his head. "That's what the book said. He could kill us all."

"In our sleep, I betcha," Billy said. "I'm gonna tell my Pa."

"Someone should tell the sheriff, but it wouldn't do no good," Stryker said. "Lancer ... that is Madrid ... he murdered my son. Stole a black horse right from us. Tried stealing our whole herd."

Billy's eyes were wide. "The law did nuthin'?"

Stryker shook his head. "No. Most law is scared of men like him. Outlaws, gunmen, most lawmen won't go up against them. There won't be no justice for my Eli."

Billy and Seth eyed each other before they took off looking for their mothers. Davey laughed softly as he watched the children scamper off. "Pa, you beat all. So, they are related to that Lancer who killed Eli?"

"Yep," Samuel Stryker said standing and swiping the dust from his clothes. "She's his woman and that's his boy. Folks around here thought Johnny Madrid was her hired hand." He shook his head thinking of the incredulity of the situation.

Davey's face grew grim. "I heard the shopkeep talking with the woman. Got an idea where her place is. What're we gonna do, Pa?"

"I figure its time we killed a Lancer or two."

TO BE CONTINUED ...