December 25

Lancer

'Dear Journal', Scott Garrett Lancer sat at his desk in his bedroom at Lancer. Pen, in his right hand, posed over the pristine page of the leather bound journal. The long slim fingers of his left pulled at his bottom lip.

'Christmas at Lancer, my home, has been an eye opener. Never before have I seen nor participated in such a celebration of the birth of the baby Jesus.'

Re-dipping the quill into the ink the young man tapped the edge of the inkwell to knock off any drips. Satisfied there would not be a drop he sat pen back to paper.

'Grandfather and I would have of course made an appearance at church. Our societal duties after which would consist of visiting the local hospital and the orphanage then attending perhaps three or four Christmas Eve celebrations.

Upon arriving home, we would sit in the front parlor and sip on the rum toddies prepared by Mildred the housekeeper.

Grandfather would speak of some new venture he would soon be embarking upon, then with a glance he fully expected his only grandson to jump at the chance to take the reins, so to speak, and finally to find his niche in Garrett's' Enterprises'.

Looking at the words he had just written Scott smiled, Grandfather had the look of someone disgruntled with an insubordinate office boy.

'At that time I had no idea which direction my life should go. Having easily returned to Harvard and picking up postponed studies and even after graduation there was still no well-defined course of action.

Jelly would say, about the direction life was going would be, "to hell in a hand-cart"'.

Scott sighed, after Julie's abandonment of his marriage proposal he had taken to being a rake of the first order, one conquest of a willing debutant after another.

He was beginning not to like himself, and then…Lancer.

The Pinkerton agent's timely appearance with his father's, Murdoch Lancer, summons was well timed. Scott Garrett Lancer had a one-way ticket to Hell.

'This morning, Journal, I believe I saw the true meaning of family.

Murdoch Lancer, upon first meeting him, seemed a cold-hearted bastard, who only wanted 'arms, legs, and guts if you have them".

Showing Scott Lancer was no lily-livered dandy from Boston, or a man instantly dismissed; the ice that surrounded Murdoch Lancer's heart began to melt'.

Dipping the pen once more into the ink well and gently tapping the side Scott chuckled to himself; Murdoch did not know how much he had chewed off upon meeting both his estranged sons at the same time.

It really was amusing to see the man's face when his younger son stepped up, after their father asking with a swing and point of the cane "you drink, don't you? The reply, "only when I know the man I'm drinkin' with".

Scott smiled; it was then that he knew he wanted to stay at Lancer if only to get to know more about this brother.

Pen to paper, 'this morning I saw the love Murdoch has for Johnny. It filled my heart with what Christmas was all about, love, belief in miracles and family'.

There was a quick rap of knuckles on his door startling Scott to nearly dropping the pen, "Come", he intoned as he shifted in his seat laying the pen on the inkpad.

Seeing his father open the door and enter Scott started to stand, but a wave of his hand Murdoch shook his head, "Don't stand on my account, I… I wanted to say how much I appreciated your understanding of Johnny's gift. I wish I had a dust covered crate for you hidden in the store room."

Scott nodded and attentively looked at his father, "Sir I understand…"

Murdoch held up one hand, "Thank you for that Scott, but I did have something you may be interested in".

Pulling out a letter from his jacket's inner pocket he smiled, before holding the missive out to his son, "I wasn't sure I could share this with you. I suppose I could have given it to you downstairs with Johnny and Teresa there, but it was personal and mine and truth be told I didn't want to share it."

Scott was intrigued now as he reached for the yellowing paper. Releasing his hold Murdoch nodded, "your mother wrote that to me, as she was taken further away from me and Lancer she wrote her thoughts down each time the wagon stopped for a rest. Well, with what I felt with Johnny this morning, I had to share with you a little bit of your mother I preserved for all these years."

Scott's throat was dry; he looked into his father's eyes and saw... love. His father loved his mother he could see it and he could feel it.

Murdoch began to turn, Scott's hand stopped him as he felt the light press of his son's hand on his shoulder, "Murdoch, ah Sir, ah… please stay. I'd like you to stay."

Nodding once Murdoch took the chair in front of the desk as Scott sat on the bed, opening the letter and turning so the lamp by his bed illuminated the faded words he choked back a sob, his mother's handwriting, her words.

Tears began to warp his vision, slate blue eyes grasping the words as he read as if he could capture the feelings of this woman who was his mother.

Murdoch sat quietly arms folded over his chest as he drank in the countenance of his elder son. He watched a myriad flow of emotions as they raced across Scotts face.

The words memorized he could tell when his son read the last line, "Murdoch, our son is perfect. He is the best of both of us, strong, a son of Lancer. If I do not make it do not weep for me, rejoice in the life we created. Let Scott Garrett Lancer ride by your side across our beautiful land, for within him I will be with you always. I know you my love, do not lock yourself away find someone to love and give our son a brother or sister, carry the name of Lancer forward. I will always be there, at Lancer, our home."

Scott felt a lone tear roll down his cheek and he started at his father's voice, "She died shortly after that, she had entrusted it to the midwife, I think she knew Harlan would never give it to me. He left soon after…, procuring a wet nurse along the way to San Francisco, I never even saw you. I… I was devastated, I wallowed in pity for a day, and then your mother's words broke through.

By the time I arrived in San Francisco the ship, Harlan and you were gone."

Standing and walking over to his son, he placed a strong work worn hand under his sons chin and lifted it, "It was five years before I made it to Boston and saw you for the first time".

"Scott, you astounded me. So very much like your mother, but you were all Lancer even under your politeness you were strong and determined. After you left the room I became determined that you were coming home to Lancer, but Harlan's threats stilled my racing heart. Son I could not put you through that confusion and pain. I'm sorry I failed you."

Scott grasped the hand of his father, "no sir you did not. I never knew grandfather was so manipulative until I was older. I knew he loved me, but he was not my father, then I did not care if I ever met you. Disappointed yes but I grew a tough skin and I survived."

"However, Murdoch…. father, I am here now, where my mother wanted me to be."

Scott stood toe to toe with his father, carefully folded the letter and slipped it back into the yellow envelope attempting to hand it back Murdoch pushed it towards his son, "You keep it now Scott. Know that she waited so long for you and loved you before you were born. Like she said as long as you are here at Lancer so shall she be."

Scott nodded, "Thank you sir, for this and for giving me the chance to come to Lancer and find something I had been in need of".

Placing a hand behind Scott's neck Murdoch pulled his son close, "Merry Christmas, son". In an unprecedented show of emotions, Murdoch placed a fatherly kiss on the top of his sons blond hair.

When Scott looked up the door was closing and he felt alone, striding the short distance to his desk he sat once more looking down at the page.

Picking up the pen, dipping it and holding it over the page Scott sighed, one small drop of black ink fell, like a tear to stain the paper.

'December 25th, one year at Lancer, I think this has been the best Christmas ever.

I have a brother that I am sure now will stay here at Lancer and will become not only a brother but also a best friend. I have a sister that will always have a place in my heart and will protect her and guide her.'

Taking a deep breath, 'also I now have a father who showed me a woman I never knew who gave me life and loved this land and the man who built it. Can I do less? I am Lancer this land is in my blood and my brother will see that too even if I have to pound some sense in his stubborn head.

I am home, and a very Merry Christmas it is.'

Placing the pen aside Scott smiled, next year was going to be a good year, three strangers would find common ground, Lancer will grow as the Lancer men become a family.

With an uncontrollable necessity, Scott raced to the window, threw back the sash, and opened the window, "Merry Christmas", he shouted out into the night.

From the darkness, an answering reply, "Feliz Navidad".

Johnny stared up at his brother leaning out of his bedroom window and chuckled to himself, "Damn, 'bout time".

Murdoch grinned from where he stood in front of the glass window, "Thank you Catherine, our son is home".

Teresa and Maria smiled at each other as they finished drying the dishes, they would say later they distinctly heard the ringing of a bell, just a tiny tingle.

Peace on earth and Lancer.

Merry Christmas.

2014

solista