This is a stand-alone and not connected to any of my other stories. Mark has graduated high school and been working the ranch with Lucas since.
"I just don't get it, Micah!" Lucas yelled as he slammed his fist on the desk. "Why did he leave? Where did he go?"
"Lucas-boy, you've done everything you can and it's obvious he doesn't want to be found. Give him time, and-"
"Give him time, Micah? Give him time?! Do you have any idea how much trouble that boy could get himself into in just a little bit of time?"
"Lucas, he's not a boy anymore and it's time you faced the facts. He's nineteen."
Lucas collapsed into a chair as he ran his fingers through his hair.
"I know, I know…" Lucas began, "But that doesn't change the fact that he's my son and I'm worried about him. The thing that scares me the most is that he felt he had to leave without telling me. I thought everything was fine between us… but apparently not…"
"Maybe he just feels the need to have a little Independence. That doesn't necessarily mean he's angry with you."
"Micah, Mark and I tell each other everything. There's no need for him to run away like this."
"Lucas-boy, I'm afraid you may just have to face the fact that your boy is as good at covering his tracks as you are. He doesn't want to be found, and you have to accept that."
"But what if someone from my past is-"
"He refuted all that in his note, Lucas. You know as well as I do that Mark wrote that note of his own free will. You're left with what you should've started with."
"And what's that?"
"Prayin'."
Lucas rode into the yard hoping that by some miracle Mark would be there waiting for him. His hopes were once again crushed as he looked across the empty, barren land and saw no sign of his son. Guiding Razor into the barn, Lucas let out a deep sigh as he saw BlueBoy's empty stall. Dozens of questions again plagued his mind; where was Mark? Why did he leave?
"... What did I do wrong?" Lucas asked in a whisper, shaking his head.
After tending to the evening chores, Lucas slowly walked across the yard and to the house. He remembered so clearly the day before Mark left; the banter they had shared… the connection Lucas had felt with his son. That day it had seemed so strong… and now it felt so distant.
Lucas put his rifle in the stand… next to where Mark's rifle was supposed to be. He hung his hat… next to where Mark's hat should have been. He looked at the table his son could be setting… had he not left. Everywhere he looked, everything Lucas did, brought him memories of Mark.
The rancher slowly walked to the bedroom where he sat down at his desk. He first took in his hands the picture of himself and Mark.
His son, his only reason for living, was gone with little explanation and no reference to when he would come back, only a promise that he would. But would he, really? Once he got out there and saw the rest of the world… would he want to come back?
Lucas put the picture face down on the desk and picked up the picture of his dear Margaret. Lucas faintly smiled as he remembered the days back in Enid. When they were all together, when there was simplicity and… and trust.
"Margaret… I don't know what I did to push him away. But I'm sorry…" Lucas whispered as a tear trickled from the corner of his eye. "I'm so sorry…"
"Can I help you?"
Mark looked up from a newspaper and saw a young woman coming from a back room. He tossed the paper on a coffee table and stood to walk towards the desk.
"Do you have any rooms available? I just need one night."
"I'm sorry, we're completely full. You might try the boarding house down the street."
"Thank you, ma'am, but I've already been there. I'll settle somewhere outside of town." Mark paused briefly before going on, " This seems to be quite a busy town. Something special going on?"
"If you want to call a trial, "special"." The woman scoffed. "It's absolutely ridiculous how… how… involved people want to get in affairs that aren't their own. Who wants to hear how a sick excuse for a man brutally murdered ten women? The bystanders are just as sick as the prisoner if you ask me. Absolutely disgusting!"
"I'm sure there's a fair number of witnesses who wish they didn't have to be here."
"Oh there certainly are, but they're all up in their rooms, trying to get sleep like decent folk! The rest of them are all reprobates drinking the night away down at the saloon, and if I ever get my hands on Frank Callaway for buying them all drinks…"
Mark tried to stifle the chuckle that was growing within. The woman was probably right in what she had to say, but her eyes glowed with fire just as bright as Lou's ever had.
"...Well, thank you for the help."
"You may want to check at the livery. Sometimes Able will let saddle tramps catch some shut-eye over there. Just tell him Louisa sent you over."
"Much obliged, ma'am," Mark replied, tipping his hat.
Mark turned and left the building. He looked across the street to see the sign for the livery, but everything was shut up for the evening.
"Well boy," Mark began as he grabbed his horse's reins and mounted up, "It looks like we're sleeping under the stars again."
Mark rode about a mile outside of town, listening as the noise from the saloon faded into the calls of the dessert's wildlife. It didn't take Mark long to make camp, and before long he was lying in his bedroll, looking up at the canopy of stars.
Again, the guilt Mark carried for leaving home so abruptly began to consume him as his thoughts turned to his Pa. Maybe he should've talked it out with his Pa… maybe there was a perfectly good explanation. ...But could he trust his Pa to tell him the truth? If he had kept a secret like this...
"...What else is he hiding from me?"
Waking from the rooster's crow, Lucas once again rolled over to face his son's empty bunk. The rancher let out a heavy sigh as he again realized he faced a day of work on an all too quiet ranch.
While Lucas knew this was his life for the time being, he couldn't adjust to it. He couldn't accept the fact that his son had left, and he didn't want to think about the possibility that Mark may never come home.
The day drug on, empty and void as Lucas once again tried to figure out where Mark had gone, but nothing came to mind.
Later that evening, Lucas rode into town for a council meeting. Everyone knew Lucas wasn't himself, and everyone knew why. They simply dealt with the impending issues before everyone left for home.
After the streets had cleared, Lucas found himself leaning against a hitching post, looking up at the sky.
"Well howdy, stranger."
Lucas looked down to see Lou walking towards him and tipped his hat as she stood next to him.
"...No news from Mark, I assume?"
"Not a word…" Lucas sighed, avoiding eye contact with Lou.
"Lucas, I'm sure wherever he is, he's fine, and thinking a lot about you. You two have a bond that-"
"Don't start there, Lou!" Lucas snapped. "Apparently our bond hasn't been what any of us thought. After nine years of living here, my boy decides to up and leave with no more than a few sentences for a goodbye! Something was wrong; something I was too blind to see!"
"Lucas ya can't go blamin' yourself! Mark's a man and can make his own decisions, and he chose to leave instead of talkin' to you. That's his fault and his alone! But if I know Mark McCain, I know deep down there's gotta be something in him that's feeling awful guilty for just up and leavin' ya the way he did! That same somethin' has gotta drive him home sooner or later! Ya just can't give up hope!"
Lucas let out another long sigh before turning towards Lou and replying.
"I'm sorry I snapped, Lou. I haven't given up, and I know he'll probably show up sooner or later, but… I'm his father. I can't help but worry about him. I can't help but wonder what went wrong in our relationship. I can't even remember the last time we had a disagreement… and I don't know why he would just leave. It..."
"It hurt you, Lucas. You don't want to admit it, but Mark leaving like he did hurt you. Now I know you are worried about Mark's well being, but you also know the man you raised can take care of himself. You're more hurt and confused than worried."
"...Maybe I am," Lucas shrugged. "I just can't fathom why he would leave…"
"...Is there anywhere he wants to go he knows you wouldn't approve of?"
"If I knew that, I'd be there. He had no interest in women, drinking, gambling…"
"What about the army, Lucas? Do you think he'd join the army?"
"Mark? In the army?" Lucas was surprised by the thought and let it sink in for a few moments. "...He's never really talked about it, as a viable option."
"Maybe he feels you wouldn't approve because of your past, and didn't want to cause a problem between the two of you."
"...There was that recruiting officer here back in the spring…. Lou, you may be onto something."
"But why would he start a career with the army when he's starting to make headway on his horse breeding?"
Lucas and Lou turned around to see Micah coming up behind them.
"Maybe he felt the need to get out from under his father's roof for a while…" Lou suggested.
"Last I knew, he had plans to settle his future family on the ranch," Micah replied.
"And last I knew," Lucas began, "Mark and I didn't keep secrets."
"You want to think that over again, Lucas-boy?"
"What do ya mean, Micah?" Lou quired.
"Lucas, up until a week ago, you didn't think Mark keep secrets from you, but we both know it wasn't mutual."
"Micah, that's all past history that doesn't have anything to do with Mark, and he respects that. He wouldn't keep something just to spite me."
"Lucas, you know the secret I'm talking about, and if you feel the need to make an exception, I'm sure Mark can feel the need, as well."
"What secret?" Lou asked.
"It's nothing," Lucas assured. "Micah, what exception would there be? Mark and I spend almost every waking moment together. What secrets could he have?"
"I don't know, Lucas. But apparently he has one."
Lucas shook his head as he ducked underneath the hitching rail and began to mount Razor.
"I guess we'll find out whenever he decides to show up again."
"Lucas, why don't you stay at the hotel? I have plenty of room, and-"
"Thanks, Lou, but I have a ranch to run. I'll see you two Sunday."
Lou and Micah watched Lucas disappear down the street before Lou turned to Micah again.
"That's the other thing I don't understand, Micah. Why would Mark leave all that work for Lucas to handle alone? That's not like him at all!"
"He didn't, he hired Freddie to help out. That's part of why we know there's no foul play here."
"I just can't stand to see Lucas like this, Micah. So alone… so hurt. I just don't understand why Mark would do such a thing… to his own father!"
"My guess is that Mark is dealing with some hurt of his own. I think that's the only thing that would drive him away."
"But Lucas said everything was fine between them!"
"I know, but sometimes… sometimes we can hurt people without realizing it, …or sometimes, such a long time has passed since we've hurt them… we've forgotten about it."
"Mr. McCain, I wasn't expecting to see you…"
"I had a couple questions, Lori, if you don't mind."
"Questions?"
"Has Mark been around?"
"Last I saw him was… I don't know, three weeks ago?"
"Lori, has he ever mentioned going anywhere or doing anything?"
"I mean, he talks about Miller's pond, but no, I don't have the faintest idea where he ran off to," Lori replied, a hint of anger in her tone. "He didn't even have the decency to tell me goodbye."
"Don't feel bad, you're not alone. You can't think of anything at all that would give us some hint?"
"I've been wracking my brain this whole last week, trying to figure it out. Nothing comes to mind. It's just so odd… Mark… it's just not like him."
Lucas sighed as he pushed his hat back on his head.
"You're telling me. Well thanks, Lori, and if you think of anything…"
"You'll be the first to know."
"Have a good day, Lori."
"You too, Mr. McCain."
Lucas turned Razor around and headed back towards the ranch. As he came over the rise and saw the homestead, his heart skipped a beat when he saw another horse down at the house. Kicking his heels into Razor's sides, Lucas hurried down the hill, but slowed as he realized it wasn't BlueBoy.
Upon reaching the house, Lucas grabbed his rifle and slowly made his way inside.
"Raise your hands, nice and easy," Lucas ordered, seeing a man sitting at the table with his back towards Lucas.
"Good to see you too, brother."
Lucas lowered the rifle as his brother-in-law turned around.
"Sneaking into someone's home is a good way to get yourself shot!" Lucas exclaimed as he went to shake Johnny's hand.
"It's a good thing you don't shoot first and ask questions later," Johnny replied with a charismatic smile. "How are you doing, Lucas?"
"Fine, fine. What brings you all the way out here?"
"Well after I got out, I did a little traveling around and when I wound up back in the territory I figured I'd give you and Mark a visit. Speaking of which, where is the kid, anyway?"
Lucas sighed as he and Johnny both took a seat at the table.
"I wish I knew."
"Trouble?"
"I don't know, Johnny. I don't think Mark is in any immediate danger, but…"
Johnny could see the sadness in Lucas's eyes.
"What happened?"
"A week ago I woke up and Mark was gone. Most of his clothes, his hat, rifle, BlueBoy, everything… gone. He left a note saying there was something he had to do and that he'd be back. No one has any idea where he went. As far as I could tell, everything was fine between us. I can't think of anywhere he would even want to go that I wouldn't approve of."
"He's what, eighteen? He's probably feeling the need for some Independence."
"Nineteen, actually. But last thing I knew, he was planning on staying here for the rest of his life. I was willing to let him do whatever he wanted, but this was what he chose. I can't…" Lucas stopped and looked up at Johnny. "Unless…"
"You mean you never told him?!" Johnny exploded.
"I didn't want to put him through it! I figured he'd remember on his own eventually and…" Lucas let out a long groan as he leaned back in his chair.
"What?"
"I'm such a fool… the signs were all right there… this summer…"
"What about it?"
"June third…"
Lucas walked up the hill and took a seat beside his son.
"What are you doing up here?"
Mark shrugged as he pushed his hat back on his head and continued to look out into the distance.
"Thinking back... remembering."
"Care to share what about?"
"...Life as it was before the epidemic. Life... life with a mother. ...My mother."
Mark kept the same expression on his face and tried to keep the sadness from his voice, but Lucas could sense it.
"...Son, I'm sorry you had to grow up without a mother."
"Pa, it's not your fault."
Lucas sighed, knowing it wasn't, yet wishing he would've been able to do something.
"...Pa, after twelve years, why can't I get over it?"
"She was your mother, Mark. she'll always hold a special place in your heart and there will be days that make it harder. But she wouldn't want you to sit here and mope, either."
"...I know. I'm not moping... it's just..." Mark let out a long sigh. "Something is tugging at me."
"Tugging at you?"
"Pa..." Mark took a deep breath before continuing. "Pa, I... I would like to go visit Enid."
Mark still kept his gaze on the horizon, not wanting to see his Pa's reaction.
Lucas was taken aback for a moment as several memories flooded his mind. As scenarios of what ifs ran rampant in his mind, he tried to come up with a response for his son.
"...Mark, it's mid-summer on the ranch. We need to spend our time here."
"I know, I wasn't saying I wanted to go now, or that you would necessarily have to come with me. I know it's different for you."
"Mark, we decided on not looking back a long time ago."
"I'm not looking back. I'm trying to remember back and it's getting harder. I was only six. I think maybe going back might... help with the memories."
"Son, it could also bring sad ones, too. It may just be best to leave well enough alone."
Mark looked towards his Pa. He couldn't keep the disappointment from his eyes... he had hoped Lucas would be more understanding.
"Pa, didn't you ever go visit your mother's grave?"
"She was buried on the farm, I couldn't help it."
"...If she hadn't been buried there, you still would've gone to visit her, wouldn't you?"
"Mark..." Lucas sighed, wishing Mark would let it go. "It's just different. I know right now you want to, but one day..." Lucas suddenly stopped short and shook his head as he stood. "Just trust me, Son. You don't want to go back."
Mark stared after his Pa as Lucas walked away.
"Trust you about what?" Mark asked himself, too quiet for Lucas to hear.
Mark looked back out across the prairie. He let out a deep sigh, not understanding why his mother's death still weighed so heavily on him. He had accepted the fact that she died a long time ago... but he would never be able to let her go.
- - -
"We went into town later that day and I talked to Micah after Mark did," Lucas continued to explain. "I should've remembered what Micah told me had happened and I should have heeded his warning…"
"I just don't understand him, Micah. It's like he's afraid of going back."
"He probably is afraid, Mark. Afraid of the memories that will return. You forget he lost the love of his life."
"And I lost my mother. I'm not even asking him to go. I just need to see her grave, and not as a confused six-year-old. Why... why doesn't he get that?"
"Give him time, he'll come around."
"I've given him time. Twelve years. Don't you think that's enough?"
"You want my opinion?" Travis called from his cell.
"Go back to sleep," Micah said as he stood to shut the door dividing the rooms of the office.
"You're eighteen, McCain. It's time you made your own decisions for once!" Travis yelled as the door shut.
"Don't listen to him," Micah said, shaking his head.
"...He does have a point..."
"Now don't you start letting those types of ideas come crawling into your head. You and your father have always gotten along just fine, worked well together. Now wouldn't be a good idea to do something against his wishes."
"You don't get it either, Micah. I need closure. I need to say goodbye."
"...Mark, trust your Pa on this one. Say goodbye from home."
"You know, Pa said something about trusting him earlier today. What do you mean? What is there to trust him about?"
Micah thought a long moment before replying.
"...Mark... your Pa... he's been through this before, he knows how you feel and how you'll react to-"
"No, Micah. He doesn't. He was a teenager when his mother passed away. I was six. He got to say goodbye before she died. I couldn't see my mother the last week she was alive. He visited her grave and had siblings to help him deal with it. I haven't been back once in the last twelve years and I can hardly talk to Pa about it. He closes off about her death every time I bring it up!"
"Calm down, Mark. You may not understand now, but one day..."
Mark shook his head and started to leave the office.
"See ya around, Micah."
As Mark hustled through the door he didn't even see his father passing him. Lucas stood in the doorway for a minute, staring after his son before entering the office and shutting the door.
"What was that all about?"
"You knew the questions would come sooner or later, Lucas."
"He's not ready for the truth."
"He's not a boy anymore, Lucas. He hasn't been for quite some time. I think you're the one that's not ready."
Lucas dropped into a chair and shook his head.
"No, Micah, I'm not. He's just gonna have to wait until I am."
"Do you think that's fair?"
"It won't hurt him."
"You best be careful, Lucas. He might get a mind to go with or without your consent."
"It's the middle of summer, he won't leave now and he'll probably forget about going by the time fall hits."
"I hope you're right."
- - -
"Seems like you're the one who forgot about it," Johnny commented.
"I thought about it come fall, but it's February!"
"Well, when do we leave?"
"We?"
"Lucas, you're not going in there alone. You're stuck with me whether you like it or not."
"Johnny, this is my fault. I should've told Mark about this a long time ago…"
"And I'm the one who lost their trail. Mark wouldn't be in any danger had I been able to track them!"
"Johnny-"
"Lucas, we're in this together. You need someone to watch your back and I have a score to settle with Jackson."
"You are not taking the law into your own hands!" Lucas declared, pointing a finger at his brother-in-law. "Jackson is getting a trial by jury!"
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
"You know, I'm really looking forward to retirement." An old Marshal told his deputy as he leaned back in his desk chair. "I'm just about through breaking up these barroom brawls."
"Come on now, Pete. You've got at least… two more in you." The deputy chuckled. "We're sure gonna miss having you around."
"Don't think you'll get rid of me that easily! The way you run things when I'm out of town, I'm gonna have to check in on you and make sure the place doesn't burn down!"
"Well I-" The deputy stopped short as a young man entered the office.
"Can I help you?" The Marshal inquired.
"Sorry to bother you at such a late hour," the man began as he closed the door behind him, "But I saw the light on and figured I would try my luck."
"No problem at all. What can I help you with?"
"I have a wanted poster here, and was wondering if you could give me some information on the wanted party."
"I can try. Who's it on?"
"Lucas McCain," the man replied as he handed the poster over.
"As in The Rifleman?" The deputy asked, not believing his ears.
"That's what the poster says," The Marshal began. "But I can tell you, Lucas McCain certainly isn't wanted around here. I've never seen a wanted poster on The Rifleman before this one, and I just received an updated list of wanted outlaws. He wasn't on it, believe me, I would've remembered."
"Then why is there a poster on him?" The man asked.
"Who knows? But this poster isn't valid. Anyone could've made this poster up, maybe someone who wants to see the man dead. Son, I suggest you get out of the bounty hunting game. It's not worth it."
"I'm not a bounty hunter."
"Then what are you doing with this poster?" The deputy asked with a hint of suspicion.
"I found it, and I needed to find out if it was real or not."
"Why?"
"Because Lucas McCain is my father."
Mark turned and left the office, the marshal and deputy curiously staring after him. He made his way to the hotel and registered for a room.
As Mark lied awake in bed, questions flooded his mind. He was thankful the poster wasn't real, but why did his Pa have it? Why had his Pa hidden it? ...And why was there someone after his Pa?
"Can I-" The desk clerk stopped as she looked up and recognized the two men standing in front of her. "Well I never thought I'd see the day when you two trouble causin', dirt covered saddle tramps would make it back in here!"
The woman came around the desk to give the two customers a hug.
"Good to see you too, Penny." Lucas chuckled.
"Is that stew I smell?" Johnny hinted.
"Yes, and you're not getting any of it until you both have had a bath!"
"She certainly hasn't changed much, has she, Lucas?"
"What on earth brings you two back here?" The woman asked as she started finding them keys to their rooms.
"It's a bit complicated," Lucas replied.
"Well, I get off in a little while, why don't you two head on upstairs and get changed, and then we catch up over supper."
"Sounds good." Lucas chuckled.
"And what is so funny, Mr. McCain?"
"Oh, nothing…" Lucas began as he and Johnny signed the register. "You still talk as fast as a-"
"Oh, don't you say it!" The woman exclaimed as she swatted Lucas with a newspaper. "Now upstairs with ya! Rooms ten and eleven."
Lucas and Johnny chuckled as they started up the stairs.
"Boy howdy, she's as pretty as ever," Johnny said as he let out a low whistle.
"Too bad she can't say the same about you," Lucas laughed.
After cleaning up, the men went down to the restaurant where Penny eventually met them.
"So now, what brings you two back to Lawton? You two get yourselves into trouble again?" The woman teased.
"Those days are long past us," Lucas laughingly replied. "Thank goodness for that."
"Last time I saw you two was…" The woman suddenly quieted as she realized just how long it had been since she'd seen the two, and under what circumstances.
"It was a long time ago." Johnny agreed.
"...Did you ever catch them?"
Johnny shook his head.
"...Lucas, how's the boy doing?"
"Well that's actually what brings us here. We're looking for Mark."
"Is he in trouble?"
"We certainly hope not. Last summer he suddenly became set on visiting his mother's grave. I thought I got him to put the idea aside, but a little over a week ago, he just up and left. Didn't say where he was going… and it's the only place I can figure he would go."
"You mean… he never… you never…"
"No," Lucas began. "I didn't tell him and he never remembered. Penny, what's Enid like?"
"Worse than when you two left, I'm afraid. Biggest outlaw haven this territory has ever seen."
"I should've never left…"
"You can't blame yourself, Lucas," Johnny stated. "You were a grieving husband with someone threatening the life of your son. Because I couldn't trail 'em…"
"Now Johnny, don't you go and blame yourself, either," Penny told the man. "You did the best you could and no one doubted it. After all, it was-"
"I know who it was!" Johnny snapped. "... I'm sorry, Penny. I guess I haven't let go as much as I thought I had."
"That's alright. So what are you two going to do once you get there? Even as good as you two are with your firearms, the two of you can't take on a whole town of outlaws!"
"We'll do whatever it takes if Mark's there," Lucas replied.
"I sure hope he's not…" Johnny sighed. "He could get himself into a heap of trouble, real fast."
"Penny, do you know if the Major still lives outside of town?" Lucas asked.
"It's been years since anyone has heard from him. The old man probably has died by now. Why?"
"Well if he still is up in that old cabin… maybe he would have an idea or two."
"Lucas, you're not going to pull that old man into this, are you?!" Penny asked in disbelief.
"I'm not going to put him in any danger. But if he still lives out there… he may be able to help."
"I never heard the end of his last quarrel with the General…" Johnny smirked.
"How else did their quarrels end? They got too tired to retaliate and finally called a truce…" Penny laughingly replied.
"Those were the good days in Enid," Lucas said before he grew somber. "...When you could let your children run through town without worrying about-"
"Lucas, don't dwell on it," Johnny reminded. "We can be thankful Mark didn't remember. Dealing with that and his mother's passing… it would have been too much."
Lucas slowly nodded.
"...Enough about us," Lucas said, changing the subject. "What have you been doing all these years?"
"Same old thing. After Robert passed… it just wasn't the same, but I couldn't bear to move out of town. Bill has been a good boss and has kept me on through thick and thin."
"How's Abigail?"
"I wish I knew…" Penny sighed. "She ran off and eloped a few years back. Last I knew, they had moved to Texas and were expecting their second… but that was two years ago. Haven't heard a word since."
"I'm sorry, Penny." Lucas offered.
"Well, maybe one day she'll decide to pay a visit. Are you two headed out first thing tomorrow?"
"I hope to, as long as this lug doesn't oversleep again!" Lucas teased Johnny.
"At least I wasn't the one falling asleep in their saddle on the way into town!"
The morning after his meeting with the Marshal of Oklahoma City, Mark mounted up and rode north. The winter air quickly penetrated his jacket, sending a chill through his bones.
Part of Mark still resisted the decision he was making. There was time to turn around and go back home. He could talk to his Pa… maybe even get Lucas to come with him. But something gnawed at Mark. He knew when his Pa was hiding something, and this was one of those times. It didn't seem like Lucas would be sharing his secret any time soon, either. So he kept on riding. He passed town after town, trying to recognize his surroundings, but all of it looked so foreign. Until he finally saw the sign.
"Enid, 3 Miles"
Stopping BlueBoy, Mark remembered back to the day they had left town. He remembered turning around and staring at the sign, tears in his eyes as the distance between himself and his home… his mother, became greater and greater. Until finally, it was gone.
It had been over twelve years since Mark had been here, and emotions overwhelmed him as reality sunk in. Slowly, Mark mustered the strength to urge his horse forward. He didn't remember much of the scenery, but the image of that sign had always stayed vivid in his mind.
The sun was setting as Mark made his way into town. Main street wasn't much like he remembered… there were so many businesses boarded up, yet… he counted three different saloons. Mark looked around for a hotel, but couldn't find one. Seeing the livery, Mark made arrangements to keep BlueBoy there overnight.
"Are there any hotels around here?" Mark asked the stable hand.
"All above the saloons."
"How does a town like this support three saloons?"
"...You're not from around here, are you?"
"I was, a long time ago."
"I suggest you just head out first thing tomorrow. Things haven't been the same since…" The man stopped as he tried to assess Mark's age.
"The same since when?"
"Never mind that. Things are just different and I suggest you high tail it out of here."
"...Thanks for the advice."
Mark slowly made his way outside the livery and tried to find the quietest saloon. Unfortunately, one looked about as lively as the next. Mark entered the nearest one and made his way towards the bartender.
"You have any rooms available?"
"Sure. Half dollar a night, paid in advance."
Mark pulled the money out and put it down on the counter.
"You lived around here long?" Mark asked the man.
"Coming up on twenty years. Why?"
"I was wondering if you knew where Lucas McCain's old place is."
The bartender suddenly gave Mark a strange look. He intently looked Mark over before his eyes fell on the rifle. Suddenly the man gave Mark the money back.
"Sorry, I can't help you."
"But-"
"I can't help you and I just remembered my last room is reserved. Have a good night."
The bartender quickly walked out a door, leaving Mark staring after him in confusion.
Mark slowly shook his head before making his way over to the next saloon.
"Do you have any rooms available?" Mark inquired of the barkeeper.
"Sorry, just gave my last room away."
"Do you happen to know where Lucas McCain's old ranch is?"
Mark again found himself being strangely stared at before the man motioned for Mark to come close.
"If you know what's good for you," the man whispered, "You'll stay away from that ranch, this town, and never mention that man's name again."
Mark slowly leaned back and nodded before leaving the saloon. He considered trying his luck at the last saloon, but he figured he'd better not.
Slowly walking down the boardwalk, questions abounded in Mark's mind. He just didn't understand what…
"Mark?" A voice interrupted his thoughts.
Mark looked around and saw a figure walking towards him.
"Mark McCain, is that you?"
Mark could make out the face in front of him, but didn't recognize the man… or did he? He wasn't sure, but…
Suddenly, Mark felt someone grabbing him from behind. He struggled against the man as three more came from the shadows. Mark was able to break loose from the man who had held him, but found himself surrounded by five men.
"Who are you, and what do you want?"
"Don't play this game with me," the man who had originally called out to Mark began. "You, Mark McCain, are one hard person to find."
"What do you want?" Mark asked again.
"Your silence."
Before Mark could react, two men were restraining him from behind and a third was preparing to serve a blow to his midsection. Mark braced himself, but couldn't help let out an involuntary groan upon impact. The man served several more blows to Mark's stomach, ribs, and face; Mark sinking lower after each punch. Finally, Mark had lost enough strength and the two men restraining let Mark fall to the ground before joining their partner. The beating seemed to last an eternity until finally, someone intervened.
"Hold it," The obvious leader of the group ordered. He took a few long steps towards Mark and squatted down beside the motionless body. "One word about this, or anything else, and you're dead, McCain. Dead."
"One word…" Mark barely whispered. "About… what…?"
The man suddenly took the butt of his gun and hit Mark across the head with it.
"Drop him outside of town somewhere."
An elderly man leaned heavily on his cane as he stood on his porch, looking over his land. His eyes stopped at a prone figure a short distance from the cabin. Slowly, the man made his way towards the body.
"Well, what do we have here?" The man mumbled as he got down beside the man.
He rolled the body over to see a young man who looked like he had been badly beaten and drug behind a horse; the rope still binding his hands together.
"Someone certainly didn't take a liking to-" The elderly man suddenly stopped as he took a closer look at the face in front of him. The eyes, the mouth, the facial structure… it all looked like her. "What are you doing back here boy?" The man asked in a grieved voice.
As best he could, the elderly man tried to bring the unconscious young man to his feet. It took a while, but the elderly man finally managed to get him inside and into the bedroom. As he untied the ropes, the man realized his patient had a dislocated shoulder.
"Looks like I'm going to have to go for Doc." The man sighed, not wanting to leave the young man alone.
The old man tended to his patient as best he could before quickly leaving the cabin and walking towards town.
"Leave it to a McCain to come back alone…" the man mumbled as he went.
Though only a short distance, it took a while for the man to get himself into town.
"I'm certainly not as young as I used to be… leave it to a McCain to send me to my grave…"
"What are you muttering to yourself about now?" The doctor asked as his friend entered the clinic.
The elderly man shut the door behind him and looked around.
"Anyone else here?" The man softly whispered.
"No…" the doctor curiously replied. "Arnold, what's gotten into you?"
The man put a finger to his lips, telling the doctor to be quiet. He shuffled his way towards the desk and continued in a low voice.
"I found Mark McCain out by my place this morning-"
"Marc McC-"
"Shhh! You want this whole town to know?" The man briefly paused before going on. "Someone already got to him, gave him the beating of his life and dislocated his shoulder by dragging him behind a horse."
"Jackson?"
"Who else?"
"Why would he even be foolish enough to come back here?"
"I don't know, but he's up at my place, unconscious. Will you come take a look at him?"
"I'll be over as soon as I can slip away."
"Thanks."
The old man shuffled back out of the office, out of town, and back to his home. Forty-five minutes had passed before he answered a knock at the door.
"He still asleep?" The doctor asked as he came inside.
"He hasn't moved a muscle."
"At least he'll be asleep when I put his shoulder back into place. He in the bedroom?"
The old man nodded and showed the elderly doctor to the back room.
"I say, you sure weren't lying when you said beating of his life!" The doctor exclaimed as he saw Mark's condition. "If I was thirty years younger, Jackson would-"
"We're not thirty years younger. Can you fix him up?"
The doctor sighed and nodded before removing Mark's shirt and then relocating his shoulder. The doctor proceeded to wrap Mark's ribs and shoulder, as well as check the lacerations his friend had already tended to.
"Arnold, I just can't believe Lucas would let Mark come back here, let alone by himself."
"I find it hard to believe, too. Which makes me wonder if Lucas didn't know."
"Should we wire?"
"Too risky, James will tell Jackson anything and we don't want thirty guns waiting for Lucas when he gets here."
"Well hopefully the boy will listen when he wakes up instead of trying to ride back into town."
"How long do you think it'll be?"
"Few hours; mid-afternoon, early evening. He took quite a blow to the head."
"Scott, how much do you think he knows?"
"Well if he remembers, everything."
"...And if he doesn't?"
"...Knowing the state Lucas was in when they left… probably nothing."
Mark woke up to strange surroundings in a dark room with only a candle giving off light. He started to sit up, but the pain forced him back down. Suddenly, Mark became aware of the injuries covering his body and the pounding headache he had.
"Easy now, you took quite a beating."
"You're telling me…" Mark moaned as the memories came back.
Suddenly, Mark turned his head to the side, realizing he wasn't alone. Too suddenly. Mark let out another groan as he began to rub his head.
"Who are you? Where am I?"
"Me? I'm Arnold Jefferson, but most folks around here call me the Major… well use to, anyhow. And you, my friend, are in my home, right outside of Enid. What brings you so far from North Fork?"
"Well I-" Mark stopped and slowly turned his head, staring curiously at the man. "How do you know where I'm from?"
"Boy, I knew you before you could talk!" The old man chuckled. "I'm an old friend of your parents."
"You knew my Ma?"
"Sure did."
"Do you know where the ranch is from here? I've gotta-"
"Hold on boy, slow down. Just as soon as you're well enough, you need to be moving on. You have no business being back here."
"No business?!" Mark exploded.
"Boy, calm down! You're gonna get yourself killed if ya stick around much longer. Jackson ain't one who gives warnings liberally."
"Jackson? Who's Jackson?"
"You don't remember, do you…?"
"Remember what?"
"Boy, you need to get home and ask your father that question. You have no business being here."
"Apparently I do if someone wants to kill me over it!" Mark said as he painfully tried to get out of the bed.
"Where do you think you're going?" The Major asked as Mark stubbled for his boots.
"To town to talk to the Sheriff."
"Listen, boy, you can't trust the sheriff, he's just as crooked as the rest of them!"
"I have no more reason to trust him than to trust you," Mark replied. "Either you tell me what's going on, or I'm-" Mark tried taking a step without support from the bedpost, but found the pain too much. The Major helped Mark back onto the bed before replying.
"Look, Son, this is something you need to take up with your father. Once you heal, it's best you just head on back home."
"I've come too far to stop now. I'm not leaving until I see my Ma's grave."
"Don't you think there's a reason you've never been back there?"
Mark quieted, partially because the room had begun to spin, and partially because of the old man's words. He had been right… his Pa had been keeping something from him.
"...Maybe," Mark finally replied, "But my Pa has had twelve years to tell me why. I'm going to find out before I go home, with or without your help."
The Major let out a long sigh. He knew this was something Mark needed to hear from Lucas, but seeing the determination in the boy's eyes… he knew Mark wouldn't heed his caution. He also knew that if he didn't tell Mark, the boy might end up getting himself killed.
"What?" Mark asked as the Major let out a chuckle.
"You sure got your Ma's looks, but I'd say you're just as stubborn as your Pa."
"Someone is threatening my life and I have a right to know why."
"Boy…"
"I'm not a "boy" anymore… sir, and I'd appreciate it if-"
"Alright, I understand." The Major let out a long sigh as he ran his left hand through his grey hair. "I guess little Mark McCain isn't so little anymore… and I suppose it's time somebody told you."
"What happened? Why wouldn't my Pa come back? Why does everyone act so strange when I bring his name up?"
"You remember when your Ma got sick?"
"...Like it was yesterday."
"It all started a week before her passing…"
"Thanks for taking him, Pa." Lucas said as he set six-year-old Mark down on the porch. "Now Mark, you listen to your grandpa and mind him, you hear?"
"But Pa, I-"
Lucas knelt down and took Mark's hands in his own.
"Son, I know you want to be here, but I don't want to worry about you getting sick, too. You can come back home just as soon as your Ma gets better."
Mark wrapped his small arms around Lucas's neck to give him one last hug goodbye. Eventually, Mark let go and walked to his grandfather's side.
"Now when you get back, I want to hear all about your fishing trip!" Lucas said with a twinkle in his eye.
"Fishing!" Mark exclaimed as he looked up at his grandpa. "We're going fishing?"
"Just as soon as we get back home."
"Have a good time, Son!" Lucas waved and watched as his Pa and his son walked down the road and out of sight. It was a relief to have Mark out of there; he didn't have to worry about Mark trying to sneak into Margaret's room every five minutes.
Slowly, Lucas returned to the bedroom where his wife lay asleep. He sat on the edge of the bed and rung out a wet rag before replacing the compress on her head.
"Mark…?" She asked as her eyes fluttered awake.
"I asked Pa to keep him, don't worry. He won't be getting into any trouble."
"I thought you said he was with your father," Margaret tried to softly tease before grimacing.
"Margaret?" Lucas called in concern. "What is it?"
"Nothing… Lucas, I'm fine…"
"Margaret?"
Margaret weakly reached up and put a hand on Lucas's cheek as she softly smiled.
"I love you, Lucas."
Lucas put his big hand over hers and smiled.
"I love you too, Margaret."
The days passed as Lucas cared for his wife. Each day she became increasingly worse; sleeping more, eating less. Lucas became increasingly worried and irritable as no news came from the doctor.
Four days after Lucas had sent Mark to stay with his father, Lucas heard a knock on the front door. Hoping it to be the doctor, Lucas quickly went to answer it.
"Pa?" Lucas asked in surprise. "What are you doing here? ...Where's Mark?"
"... I was hoping you could tell me."
Fear flooded Lucas's being as the words fell on his ears. Not wanting Margaret to hear, Lucas stepped onto the porch with his father.
"What do you mean? Where's my son?!"
"I'm… I'm sorry Lucas. I woke up this morning and he… he was just gone."
"Just gone?" Lucas demanded. "A six-year-old boy can't just disappear into thin air!"
"I've looked everywhere, Luke. I was hoping he had snuck back home…"
Lucas took a step past his father, but stopped; torn between staying with his wife and looking for his son.
"Lucas, Margaret needs you," John McCain told his son, hearing the calls from inside the house. "I'll get some people together and we'll start looking."
"If he-"
"He'll be fine, son. We won't stop until we find him. Tend to Margaret, and we'll keep you informed."
Lucas watched as his father mounted his horse and headed for town. Lucas went back inside his home to find his wife in the doorway of their bedroom.
"Margaret!" Lucas exclaimed as he began to help her back into bed.
"Lucas, who was that?"
"Don't worry about it. You should know better than to be out of bed!"
"Lucas, something's wrong!"
"Why would you say that?" Lucas nervously asked as he gently tucked the sheet around his wife.
"I don't know… I can just feel it. Are you... sure your father... can handle Mark…"
Lucas watched as exhaustion began to take over and his wife drifted off to sleep. He had never been one to believe in "woman's intuition", but the fact that Mark was missing and that Margaret said something was wrong worried him even more.
All night Lucas paced back and forth between the front room of their home and the bedroom. Though Margaret stirred in her sleep, she never woke; and though Lucas tried to get a few hours of sleep, he couldn't rest. Worry and regret filled Lucas's being as he waited out the night.
Finally around eight the next morning, Lucas could hear horses outside. Relief flooded him as he saw his son in the saddle with Johnny. ...But that relief was soon replaced by fear as he looked at his son. His eyes were open, but unfocused. He was pale, and not responding to Lucas's calls.
"Johnny what happened?" Lucas asked as he took his still boy from his brother-in-law.
"Lucas, I'm sorry…" John McCain said with grief.
Ignoring his father, Lucas again asked Johnny what had happened; recognizing the signs of shock all too well in his six-year-old son.
"Marissa Temple was found dead a ways from town. Mark was found hiding in bushes nearby… like that."
"Who…" Lucas began, looking from his boy to his brother-in-law, "Who did this?"
"I don't know, but we're getting a posse together." The Major assured. "Lucas, you take care of your family and we'll see that whoever did this is brought to justice."
Lucas slowly nodded as he realized what his innocent child had witnessed. He stood there, numb to the world as the search party left.
"Lucas, I-"
Lucas looked up to see his father still standing there.
"Get out of here!"
"Lucas, please…"
"I asked you to take care of him!"
"Lucas, let me help…"
"You've done enough damage already!"
Still cradling Mark in his arms, Lucas turned and went inside his home. Holding Mark to his chest, Lucas let the tears fall; realizing Mark could have died… realizing that his boy's body could be stone cold right now… knowing Mark could possibly never truly wake up.
Hours passed as Lucas went back and forth between tending to his wife and tending to his son. They were hours of agony as Lucas faced the fears of possibly losing both his wife and son.
As the next morning dawned, Lucas walked back into the front room to find Mark trying to get into the oatmeal.
"Mark!" Lucas exclaimed as he took two long strides towards his son.
Lucas picked Mark up in his arms and held him close as tears fell down his cheeks.
"Pa, you're squeezing too hard," Mark informed his father.
Lucas loosened his grip and looked at his son.
"Are you alright?"
"Of course I am. Is Ma better? Is that why I'm here?"
"...Mark, do you remember what happened at Grandpa's?"
"We went fishing and then… Pa, when did I come home?"
Lucas let out a long sigh as he realized his boy didn't remembered anything. Although he knew medically it probably wasn't a good sign, Lucas was thankful his boy didn't remember the horrors of what he had seen.
"It doesn't matter, are you hungry?"
Mark grinned and nodded before Lucas started to make some breakfast… unsure of what he was going to do when Mark remembered.
"The posse went out and tried following the tracks," The Major explained, "But we eventually lost their trail. When we got back…" The Major heavily sighed, the grief weighing on him. "Your Ma had already passed."
"But I still don't understand-"
"I'm not finished yet. It was late one evening when your Pa came to me..."
"What am I supposed to do, Major?" Lucas desperately asked, looking towards the couch that held a sleeping Mark.
"Tell me again what happened, slowly."
Lucas let out a long sigh before mustering up the strength to repeat what had happened.
"I was reading to Mark and left him in his bedroom to get him a glass of water. While I was in the kitchen, someone tried to shoot my boy through his bedroom window!"
"That was real?" Mark asked.
"You remember that night?"
"Pa said it was just a dream..."
"I wish it had been…"
"And then this gets thrown through the window!" Lucas declared, handing the Major a note.
"McCain, leave and don't come back or I'll forget your boy is a boy." The Major slowly looked up from the note. "Do you think it's Ms. Temple's killer?"
"Between that and the other notes we've gotten!"
"Calm down, Lucas, you'll wake him," The Major chided. "Now, listen to me. I know you want to see justice. We all do. But right now we don't even know who to go after, and your boy's life is at stake."
"Are you suggesting I run?"
"I'm suggesting you take your boy somewhere safe. Somewhere the killer can't get to him, and somewhere that won't trigger his memory."
"But to leave Margaret…?"
"Lucas, Margaret's not here anymore. Your boy still is. I don't mean to be so blunt, but I don't want to see any more McCains buried out in that cemetery!"
"What happened then?" Mark asked.
"Your Pa packed up and left the next day. It was hard for him, Mark. He didn't want to take you away from your home, but he had to. Shortly after Lucas left town, Jackson came in and took over. Little by little he corrupted the town and turned it into the outlaw haven it is today."
"Why'd you stay?"
"Through certain circumstances we realized Jackson was the killer, but without your testimony we couldn't have him arrested. I stayed to keep your father updated. We were concerned about Jackson coming after you again, and so I keep tabs on him."
"Where does he hold up now?"
"Mark…"
"Major, please."
"That much I won't tell you. I'm in enough trouble with your father already. You know the truth, and you're lucky that Jackson didn't kill you last night. You need to rest up, and get on home."
"And let them keep going on like this?"
"The army's working on it, Son, but it's a process. You can't take out fifty outlaws by yourself."
"My parents' old place? Will you at least tell me that much?"
"No, Mark. Leave well enough alone."
"But-"
"No."
"That's where he's holding up, isn't it?"
The old man shook his head as he stood and started to make his way out of the room.
"It's not worth it, Mark. Try to get some rest, you need it."
"Outlaw haven indeed," Johnny mumbled as he met Lucas in Enid's livery. "Lucas there's gotta be at least ten escaped convicts in that saloon!"
"Any sign of Mark?"
Johnny shook his head before asking Lucas the same.
"His horse is here. Are you sure no one saw you?"
"Lucas, I'm positive. What's your plan?"
"Go up to the Major's for help. Maybe by some miracle no one has recognized his name yet and the Major can do a bit of looking around."
"Why don't we just do it?"
"Because we are a dead give away that Mark's here!"
Lucas and Johnny slipped from the livery and headed for the Major's old cabin, hoping he was still there. Lucas knocked on the door and waited for the old man to open the door.
"Lucas, I was wondering when you'd show up," The Major stated. "Come on in, we have a lot to discuss. You can stop hiding in the shadows, Johnny."
Johnny came out and looked at Lucas in disbelief. Lucas just chuckled and followed the Major inside.
"Sounds like you were expecting us?" Lucas quired as the three men sat down around the table.
"Three days ago I found Mark on my property, unconscious and badly beaten." Seeing the worry in Lucas's eyes, the Major continued, "Don't worry, the boy will live. He'll be sore for a while, but he'll be fine. I knew you'd figure out where he went sooner or later, so I've been keeping him here while he's recovering. But by George, Lucas, if that boy doesn't have your stubbornness…"
"Can I see him?"
"First, Luke, you should know… I had to tell him."
"You what?!" Lucas demanded.
"Jackson was the one who beat him up and he was going to go marching into town if I didn't! The boy is eighteen, he has a right to know."
"Nineteen." Johnny corrected.
Lucas let his anger diffuse before replying.
"Do you have any idea what kind of trouble that boy could get himself into? Major, he doesn't think, he just does! What kind of judgment do you expect him to have?"
"That of a young man. He's not a boy anymore, Luke. It's time you accepted that. Thankfully he's stayed pretty quiet, I don't think you'll have much trouble convincing him to come home."
Lucas followed the Major to the bedroom and watched as he opened the door. To everyone's dismay, Mark was nowhere to be seen.
"Please don't tell me you told him where Jackson likes to stay…" Lucas pleaded.
"...He figured that one out himself…"
"Mark!" Lucas yelled, slamming his palm on the door frame.
"Where are you going?" The Major asked as Lucas headed for the front door.
"To find my son before Jackson does!"
"Not alone, you're not!"
Mark slipped out of the bedroom window and crept along the side of the house before running, as quickly as his injuries would allow, down to the road that he hoped led into town. After following the road for a short distance, Mark managed to find his way to the sheriff's office. After peering through the window and seeing that no one was there, Mark went through the door and looked around the office for a map of Enid. Pulling every memory of his home and of stories his Pa had told him as he could, Mark narrowed down where he was sure the ranch was located. Sneaking to the livery, Mark found BlueBoy and saddled him before slipping out of town just as quietly as he had arrived.
Not long afterward, Mark found himself staring at what once had been his home. Tears welled in his eyes as memories of his young childhood flooded his mind. Forgetting the need to be careful, Mark urged BlueBoy towards the house. As Mark dismounted, he realized just how loud he had let himself become… all too late. The scene from several nights before repeated itself, Mark finding himself surrounded by five men.
"Well, what brings you back home?" Jackson taunted. "Miss your Mama?"
Before Mark could think to restrain himself, he lunged towards Jackson and punched him across the jaw. Two of Jackson's men pulled Mark off of the man and restrained him.
"I warned you once, I sure wish you would have listened…" Jackson replied, throwing two punches to Mark's ribs and a third to his face.
"If you... would have just left her alone… in the first place…" Mark raggedly spoke.
Jackson nervously looked to another man standing nearby.
"You said he didn't remember!" Jackson yelled.
"That's what everyone said! The man retorted.
"Great, just great!" Jackson sarcastically replied, waving his hands into the air, turning his back towards Mark. "Now I just have one option..."
Johnny, Lucas, and the Major all took a different vantage point around the small group of people standing outside the former McCain home. They all listened as the discourse continued, waiting for the right time to act. Lucas's heart was pounding as Jackson realized Mark knew the truth.
"Great, just great!" Lucas heard the outlaw exclaim. "Now I only have one option…"
As soon as Lucas saw Jackson going for his gun, Lucas fired his rifle… but not soon enough. The rancher's heart broke into a thousand pieces as he heard his son cry out in pain.
Realizing they weren't alone, Jackson's men began blindly firing into the night, giving Lucas, Johnny, and the Major easy targets. As two more men fell, the remaining outlaws ran for the barn. Johnny and the Major followed suit as Lucas ran towards his son, calling his boy's name.
"Mark!" Lucas called again, reaching his son's body. "Please Mark, please!"
Oblivious to the continuous gunfire coming from the barn, Lucas continued to plead with his son. Pressing his ear to Mark's chest, Lucas was thankful to hear a heartbeat and to feel the shallow rise and fall of his son's chest. Lucas carried his boy inside to what was once his and Margaret's bedroom before lighting a lantern and starting to tend to his son.
"Alright McCain," A voice called from the doorway. "Raise your hands and back away."
Lucas looked up to see Jackson standing there, one hand clenching his chest, the other holding a gun.
"Jackson, don't!" Lucas begged. "He was just a boy!"
"I said," Jackson replied, pulling the hammer back, "Step away."
Lucas stood in between the gun and his son, staring deep into Jackson's eyes.
"If you want him, you're going to have to go through me first."
"If you insis-"
Before Jackson could pull the trigger, Johnny used the butt of his own handgun to knock Jackson unconscious.
"Mark?" Johnny asked.
"He needs Doc, Johnny! Jackson got two shots off on him."
"Johnny, you tie these reprobates up," The Major began, pushing the other surviving outlaw into the home, "I'll ride for Scott."
After tying the two outlaws up and applying a bandage to Jackson's wound, Johnny slowly walked into the bedroom where Lucas was tending to Mark.
He couldn't imagine what Lucas was going through at the moment; He was having a hard enough time watching Lucas tend to his nephew in the same room his sister had died in. He couldn't fathom what Lucas was feeling.
"Lucas… is there anything I can do?"
"Start some boiling water in the kitchen," Lucas ordered, never looking away from his son.
Lucas heard Johnny leave and closed his eyes in an attempt to stop the tears that were threatening to fall.
"Don't do this to me, Son," Lucas pleaded, "Not here… not now…"
It wasn't long before the Major returned with the doctor. Though Lucas resisted, the doctor ordered him to wait in the front room with Johnny while he tried to get the bullets out.
Johnny watched as his brother-in-law impatiently paced across the room. A half hour had passed before he finally was able to speak.
"Don't do this to yourself, Lucas."
"Don't do what? Take responsibility for what I caused?"
"Lucas, you didn't kill Marissa, and you weren't the one who came out here knowing your father was set against it."
"If I had told him the truth… if I had told him why…"
"Knowing Mark, he probably would have still come out here. You can't blame yourself. For Pete's sake man, you just stood between a gun and your son!"
"Johnny, if he dies…"
"Jackson will hang."
It was another agonizing hour before the doctor and the Major came out into the front room. Lucas stared at the doctor, waiting for him to say something… anything.
"He should pull through, Lucas. It'll be a long road of recovery, but he'll pull through." Everyone took a seat before the doctor continued, "He took one bullet to the side, and the other to the shoulder he had dislocated a few days ago."
"How'd that happen?" Lucas worriedly asked.
"When Jackson's men beat Mark up the first night he was in town," the Major began, "They drug him behind a horse and Mark dislocated it then."
The doctor continued, "He also has a few cracked ribs and I'm sure you saw the bruising on his face."
Lucas nodded before the doctor went on.
"I'd like to see him rest for two weeks before you try going home, but him being a McCain, I know I'm probably dreaming…"
"He may be stubborn," Lucas began, "But I'll make sure he gets adequate rest."
"The only question is, how do we plan on surviving up here for two weeks?" Johnny asked. "I think you men forget we have a town full of criminals down the road, expecting Jackson to be here. And what are we gonna do with those two?"
"I may be old, but I'm not useless." The Major stated. "You and I can get these two over to Oklahoma City, right after we get Mark settled at my cabin."
"We couldn't impose-" Lucas began to protest, but the Major interrupted.
"You don't have much of a choice, Luke. No one will bother you up there and we can't afford to move Mark much farther."
The men spent a while working out the final details before carefully moving Mark to the cabin, under the covers of darkness.
As Johnny and the Major left with their prisoners, the doctor said he best get back to town before he was missed; promising to check in as he could.
The next two days saw Lucas at his son's bedside, reading from the Major's Bible as he accepted everything that had happened; not just in the last week and a half, but what had happened twelve years ago.
The second night after Johnny and the Major had left, Lucas noticed Mark was beginning to stir in his sleep. He knew this was a good sign, but he wished Mark would just wake up.
The next morning, Lucas was carrying a fresh bowl of water into the bedroom when he saw Mark's eyes flutter open.
He placed the bowl on the nightstand and knelt beside his son.
"Mark, how do you feel?"
"...Pa?" Mark asked in confusion. "What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you."
"But how-" Mark tried sitting up, but the pain in his side forced him to lay back down as a groan escaped his lips.
"I'm surprised it took me this long to figure out where you went."
"Pa, Jackson…"
"I know, Son. Your Uncle Johnny and the Major are taking him to Oklahoma City as we speak." Lucas looked at his son, looked past the pain on his face, and saw there was something more. "What is it, Mark?"
"...Pa… why… why didn't you tell me?"
Lucas let out a long sigh as he again thought back to the day Johnny had brought Mark home and the events that followed.
"Mark, I was grieving the loss of your mother, I was worried sick about you, and… Son, I just wanted to protect you. I couldn't ask you to relive those moments. You were six!"
"Was, Pa." Mark said, taking on a more serious tone. "But I haven't been six for a long time. And I've been asking to come back for years. Why didn't you just tell me?"
"Mark, when Johnny brought you home, you were in complete shock. I spent days looking after a little boy who had shut the world out. I… I was afraid you'd remember and go back to the way they found you."
"Pa, I'm not a little boy anymore!" Mark declared in frustration. "All I wanted to do was say goodbye to my mother. I knew it wasn't her memory that was keeping you from coming back, I knew there was something more! Something that you weren't telling me!"
"Mark, I did it to protect you, Son."
"Protect me from what, Jackson? Because you sure did a fine job of that! Pa, I could be dead right now!"
The words stung Lucas as Mark angrily stared at his Pa.
"What happened to trusting each other? What happened to being honest with each other?"
Lucas had no answer for his son. So many thoughts and emotions ran rampant within him… he didn't know what to do.
Several awkward moments of silence passed before Lucas was able to respond.
"Mark… I'm sorry…"
Mark just sighed and shook his head, not yet able to come to terms with what had happened.
Lucas suddenly couldn't take it anymore. The strain of guilt he felt as he stood staring at his beaten, shot son was overwhelming. He walked from the cabin to the barn and wept; wept over what his selfishness had caused his son.
Johnny and the Major returned the next day, and it was obvious to anyone the relationship between the father and son was strained. Johnny tried talking to Mark, as did the Major, but Mark refused to talk about anything.
Johnny and the Major also informed Lucas that by the end of the week an army division was due in town to break up the outlaw haven once for all. The three of them, along with the doctor, were asked to meet with the army a ways from town to give any insights they might have.
Before leaving, Lucas checked in on his son.
"Mark do you need anything?"
"I'm fine."
"We'll be back in a few-"
"I'm fine," Mark said again, firmness in his tone.
Lucas sighed in defeat and followed the four men out of the cabin.
The Doctor and Major rode in a buggy as Lucas and Johnny rode their horses behind.
"I just don't know what to do with him, Johnny," Lucas sighed. "This isn't Mark. He won't talk… he won't even listen!"
"Lucas, the boy was almost killed. Give him time to accept what happened, don't take anything personally. He has a lot to figure out right now."
"The only thing he needs to figure out right now is to trust me."
"Lucas, how old is your son?"
"You know the answer to that, Johnny."
"I do. But I'm not so sure you do."
"What do you mean?"
"Do you remember when we were his age and wanted to go take a hunting trip down south?" Lucas nodded before Johnny went on, "Your father asked us to trust him and to not go. He wouldn't give us an explanation, but just asked us to trust him. In all our wisdom, we decided we were man enough to make our own decisions and went down south anyway. What your father knew and couldn't tell us was that there was an army division down there trying to pull a surprise attack on the uprising Indians. You and I are lucky to be alive today after what happened down there."
"And your point?"
Johnny sighed and rolled his eyes.
"Lucas, Mark is nineteen. He is old enough to make his own decisions and didn't see a valid reason why he couldn't go. You can't protect him from everything, Lucas. You've been raising Mark his whole life to be his own man, yet you still want him to take your word for everything. I'm not saying he shouldn't trust you, but I'm saying as he gets older, he's going to need more than a, "because I said so," from you."
The men returned to the cabin several hours later. To Lucas's dismay, BlueBoy was missing from the barn. He ran inside, only to find a note for him on the table. The rancher silently read it, Johnny reading over his shoulder.
"Pa,
I think we both need time.
I have some things to figure out before I come back home, and I don't know when that will be.
Please don't come looking.
-Mark"
Lucas slowly turned around and looked at his brother-in-law.
"...What am I supposed to do?"
"Go home and wait for him, Lucas. There's not much else you can do."
Micah looked out the window to see Lucas slowly riding into town. He could see the tired look on his friend's face and began to pour Lucas a cup of coffee while he waited for his friend to enter the office.
Lucas walked inside and shut the door behind him before taking the cup of coffee Micah offered and sinking into a chair.
"Was Mark not in Enid?"
"Oh, he was," Lucas began before sipping the coffee, "But he didn't feel like coming home."
"What happened, Lucas-boy?"
"Well, eight months ago my son made it very clear that he needed to see his mother's grave. Rather than telling him why we never went back, I blew him off. Almost a month ago, my son takes off for Enid and I'm too stupid to realize where he's gone. After I finally get my senses back I go trailing after him, just in time to see the very person I was trying to protect Mark from, shoot him. After Mark woke up we ended up in an argument over me not telling him the truth. After several, very strained days I had to leave him for a few hours, and when I came back I find I note, explaining that he needs time and doesn't know when he'll be back home."
There was a long moment of silence as Micah took on what had happened.
"... Lucas-boy…"
"Why didn't I tell him, Micah?!" Lucas yelled, kicking the desk in front of him.
"Because you love him, Lucas. You did what you thought was best."
"No, I didn't Micah…"
Micah curiously eyes his friend before replying.
"What do you mean?"
"There have been several times over the years I've wanted to tell him… but my own selfishness has kept me from it."
Lucas leaned back in the chair and ran his fingers through his hair.
"After I ran from town… Jackson's men came across our camp one night. Mark was asleep. Of course before then, no one knew Jackson was the killer, but it wasn't long before I understood. He was threatening to kill my boy… I explained that Mark didn't remember and begged for Jackson's men to leave Mark alone. The one apparently incharge agreed, but promised me that if Mark ever came back to Enid, remembering or not, he would kill Mark. If Mark so much as gave a statement to anybody… he swore to kill my son. Micah, you know I don't run and hide, doing criminals' bidding… but this was Mark. I had just lost my wife and I wasn't going to lose my son, too. As Mark got older... I knew… if I told him, if he remembered… he would go straight to the law. I couldn't bring myself to do it. Even knowing Marissa had died… I wasn't going to lose my boy!"
There were tears streaming down Lucas's face; twelve years of fear finally making itself known.
"I know it was wrong of me Micah, I know I should have told Mark and let him make his own decision if he could truly remember what happened that night… but I was weak. I still am weak! Mark's everything to me, and had Jackson succeeded in killing him…"
"But he didn't, Lucas-boy. Granted, you should have let Mark choose. But no one is perfect, and the chances of him truly remembering after this many years… are slim. I doubt any jury would accept his testimony after he was told the story by others. But I think you need to tell Mark the whole story. Let him know how much this has torn you apart. Give him time. Build his trust again. Be patient as he comes to terms with everything. If I know Mark, he'll come around and see your point of view."
"Micah, I was too selfish to tell Mark, because I didn't want to lose him, too. My selfishness almost cost my son his life. How am I supposed to ask for forgiveness for that?"
"Give it time, Lucas. I'm sure you'll find a way. And I'm sure Mark will find it in him to forgive you, and probably do a bit of apologizing himself."
One week passed. Two weeks. A month. Lucas received no news from his son. With each passing day, Lucas became increasingly worried, but he was going to respect his son's request. As hard as it was, Lucas restrained himself from going to look for Mark.
As Lucas was washing the dishes one evening, he thought about how much he missed hearing his son complain about doing the dishes. How much he missed his son describing his latest idea for a way to get out of the dishes. It was small moments like those Lucas realized he had let himself become far too annoyed with during Mark's childhood. Instead, he wished he would have cherished them while he had a son around to have conversation with.
After finishing the dishes, Lucas sat down in his chair and began reading from his Bible as a gentle rain began to fall outside. As the hour passed, the rain became heavier and the lightning came closer. The thunder clapped, almost drowning out the sound of a knock at the door.
Lucas stood and opened the door, not quite believing what he saw waiting for him.
Soaking wet, Mark stood before his father, waiting for Lucas to say something. Finally, Mark mustered up the strength to break the silence.
"Pa… can I come in?"
Not giving a verbal response, Lucas pulled Mark inside and into an embrace. Looking up, Lucas silently thanked God for bringing his boy home.
"Pa, I-" Mark stopped as Lucas held his son at arm's length.
"Go find something dry to change into, then we can talk."
Mark nodded and headed for the bedroom, thankful his Pa didn't seem to be angry.
A few minutes later, Lucas and Mark sat down at the kitchen table.
"Pa, I-"
"No, Mark. There are a few things I need to say first." Mark nodded before Lucas went on. "I am sorry Mark. I'm sorry how much pain and suffering my selfishness has caused. I'm sorry for not being honest with you. And I'm sorry for not treating you like the man you've become."
"Pa-"
"Mark, I need to tell you the whole story. It doesn't just end with us leaving Enid. Jackson found us and… and he swore that if you ever went back, if you ever tried to get him in prison, he would kill you. After losing your mother, I couldn't bear the thought of losing you. As you got older I felt the urge to tell you on so many occasions… but even though Marissa deserved justice… I just couldn't risk it. I was wrong, I know. I had no right… I know. And that decision continued to haunt me for years. Eventually I just didn't want to think about it anymore and that's why I tried to change the subject every time we talked about your mother's death. I couldn't handle it. I still see images of Jackson's men pointing a gun at you as you lie asleep. When you asked to go this summer… I should've told you. I'm sorry Mark, and I'm asking you to forgive me."
"...Of course I will, Pa. ...But there's a few things you need to know, too…"
Lucas patiently waited for Mark to go on.
"Pa, I should've come to you as soon as I found it. I'm sorry I didn't and that I doubted your character. But between having the feeling that you were hiding something about Enid, and then finding a wanted poster on you…"
"Where on earth did you find it?" Lucas asked in amazement.
"Stuck in a book, in the back of the closet. I assumed the worst and that you were trying to hide it."
"If I were trying to hide it, I would've burned it."
"I know. But I was angry and… scared."
"Scared about what, Mark?"
"Scared that the one person I could trust in my life couldn't be trusted. I didn't understand why you were so adamant about not going to Enid, and then finding that poster… it just helped that wild imagination you were always warning me about. So once I found the poster, I couldn't take it anymore, I had to find out. I went to Oklahoma City to find out about the poster. They said it wasn't valid and that was good enough for me, but I was so close to Ma… I couldn't stop there. So I kept on going, and nearly got myself killed."
"I thank God you weren't."
"But I should have trusted your character and asked you about the poster. And I should have trusted you this summer when you said not to go. I'm sorry, Pa. I know you better than that and I hope you will forgive me."
"Son, I understand, and yes, I forgive you."
"I had no right to talk to you the way I did at the Major's cabin, either. It was my own fault I was lying in that bed, yet not long before that, you had stood between me and a gun. Thank you, and I'm sorry."
"How'd you know that? You were unconscious…"
"I did go visit Ma's grave, and Uncle Johnny was waiting for me. He kinda gave me an earful, and I deserved it. You've risked your neck for me… I don't know how many times, because you love me. And I'm sorry I spoke to you the way I did. No matter how old I may be, I'll never have the right to treat you like I did."
"I forgive you Mark, and I'm sorry for not telling you about the poster sooner. A friend sent it to me in the mail a few months back and I stuck it in that book and forgot about it."
"A friend sent it to you?"
"It's kinda a long story… but I suppose it's about time you heard it."
Lucas went on to tell Mark what had happened those two months in Wyoming after the cattle all died.
"...Did you ever tell Miss Milly?"
"Yes, why do you ask?"
"Bet she was pretty upset with you, huh?" Mark chuckled, imagining what her reaction would have been like.
"You and I both know that's an understatement." Lucas chuckled, remembering Milly's reaction.
Mark noticed that his Pa began to quiet and asked what was wrong.
"I hate to bring this up, but about Jackson… they're going to need witnesses. He did try to kill you."
"That's part of why it took me so long to get home. I was a witness for the trial. I requested that you not get dragged into it, and after I explained things to the judge, he understood. I hope you're not angry…"
"No," Lucas sighed, "Mark, I'm not. I probably wouldn't have been able to control myself around Jackson. What was the verdict?"
"Life in prison."
This time Mark was the one who quieted, and Lucas waited a moment before saying anything.
"...Alright Son, out with it."
"Pa, I'm sorry for leaving all the work for you."
"Don't worry, Mark. You hired Freddy on, if you'll remember. He can't do quite as much as you, but we've managed. Besides, you get to make up for it over calving season!"
"Thanks, Pa, for everything." Mark sincerely replied.
"I love you, Son." Lucas paused before changing the subject, "Now, I'm sure you didn't give your wounds near enough time to heal…"
"Now what would make you say a thing like that?"
"Oh, I don't know. Just a "feeling"." Lucas teased. "We'll have Doc check you over tomorrow morning. Oh and… I warn you now, you are going to have to do some sweet talking to Lou. Boy, she was ready to tan your hide when you left the first time!"
Lucas laughed as Mark let out a loud groan.
After stopping at Doc's the next morning, Lucas and Mark walked over to the hotel. Lucas entered behind his son and made his way to the corner of the room, laughing as Lou came at Mark with a newspaper.
It was good to have his son home.