Chapter 3

The fact they had to wait for Murdoch's gift only meant that he and Johnny had time to deliver the salsa. Scott grinned, he was enjoying the look on Johnny's face from Jelly's front seat as the elderly Mrs. Hargis harangued his brother about something. It might have been the church because she held the salsa jar in one hand and was pointing at the live nativity scene with the other. He dipped his head under the sun visor and saw a donkey and two sheep milling about. A goat was sandwiched between the empty manger and a sheet of plywood, which prevented the lot from escaping.

He shook his head.

Scott wasn't too sure what coming to California was supposed to feel like, but if this was it, then he could see why people bothered. Maybe he should sit back and enjoy this one minute, enjoy the whole thing.

It had been a hard few years since Afghanistan, and all the hurts blurred into one, except for what had happened in Kabul, when everything had just stopped in blood and pain and betrayal. His separation from the Army had been a clean break, albeit forced, but some of the wounds were still healing. Grandfather was fine, Scott knew it, and that wasn't really what this was about. Finally, after all was said, after all was done, he was doing this for himself.

He made a choice in Boston, and it was right.

But from what he could see, his father didn't need much of anything. Or his brother.

Not like he needed them.

The smile faded a little from Scott's face, as though it had been whipped away by the wind. It struck something inside, those words, and he had a moment of dislocation so strong he pulled himself out of the truck, afraid for a second that he'd fall out somehow. Steadying himself with one hand on Jelly's side mirror, he leaned against the door.

"You okay?"

He hadn't heard his brother approach. "Just enjoying the California sun."

Johnny looked up at the clouds for a moment then stared at him. "You sure you're okay? There's no sun."

He tapped his brother on the arm. "I'm fine. Better than the Widow Hargis, I'm assuming. What did she want anyway? I saw her pointing towards the church."

Johnny pushed his hand through his hair. "Yeah, that old bat. She said someone should fix up the nativity scene for the church and did I know of any able bodied men who could do it."

"So subtle."

"Like a heart attack."

"Shall we then? That last jar is for Father Jimenez, right?"

"I guess. Did Teresa call yet?"

Scott checked his phone, did a quick text. He promptly got a ding back. "Apparently, she's still busy."

Johnny let out a sigh. "I guess we got work to do then. C'mon, we'll leave old Jelly here."

L-L-L

The nativity scene was rougher than Johnny thought. After the jar was delivered to the smiling priest, he practically beamed when Scott told him they were there to do repairs.

He nudged a curious sheep away from his knee and handed Scott a hammer.

"Think you can handle that, Scott?'

"After spending these past months chez Lancer and its myriad of fences, I'm up to the task." He raised his eyebrows at the saw in Johnny's hands. "You?"

"I'm good for it." He kicked the end sawhorse around and laid down the plywood for the railing. "You ever see fences before you came out here?"

Scott rocked back on his heels. Heels that were scuffed and broken-in. Johnny could only assume his brother had never worn cowboy boots before. "Just the wrought iron kind and then I didn't have to put them up, or fix them." Scott pinned him with a stare. "What are you getting at?"

"I know you've been checkin' on flights back east."

"So? You've done your share of talking on the phone, in convenient Spanish, I might add." Scott blinked when he saw his frown. "It was a guess, right? One you've just confirmed. Are you leaving?"

"For the holidays, or forever?" Johnny chuckled, but it held no mirth. "I was about to ask you the same thing, brother."

Scott took a moment to hammer in a nail. The thwack looked like it sent shock waves up his arm and into his shoulder. "I'll admit to thinking about it."

"Same. Ever think of workin' on a ranch? You know. Horses and cattle drives and all that?" Johnny asked as he was sizing up the piece of lumber on his sawhorses.

"Not since I was ten and had an idea I would go visit my father all the way in California." The thud on the wood was louder this time. A point of contention had been breached. Thankfully, the sheep had migrated to a far corner.

"It's tough tryin' to figure out someone you never really knew."

Scott straightened. "Welcome to the club. And I would guess the pull of the road could be pretty hard to ignore."

"Yeah, there is that."

"Only, Johnny, I don't think Murdoch is going anywhere. And there's the little matter of being a ranch owner. Ah, a third owner. You've already shed blood for the place."

"You had your plan and I had mine."

Scott smiled—the same one he wore after Murdoch asked them if they wanted a drink that first day. Johnny had come to learn it was his brother's fuck you smile, and it pulled up the right side of his face. He often wondered what it would take for Scott to actually say the words, not just wear them.

The clouds eased up and a few rays of sunlight shone down. He believed in luck, not providence. The door was open, and he could go right through, the same as always. He wanted to believe that Murdoch held open a door bigger and better than the one he was used to, that it might be okay to just walk through that one instead.

"I've been thinkin'."

Scott made a noise in the base of his throat.

Johnny ignored him. "I've been thinking that I'll stick it out. For a little while longer."

Scott took a deep breath and Johnny had to brace himself, wondering about air fares to Boston and a motorcycle trip south to the gravestone of a young-old mother named Maria, and how they all got tangled up and intertwined.

His brother tipped his head to squint at the skimpy yellow rays. "Me too."

He gave a cautious grin, which Scott returned.

The work claimed the rest of the conversation, tension leaching into the straw-covered ground of the nativity. It was too close to Christmas for any regrets and Johnny felt too tired for it in any case.

L-L-L

Teresa looked at the photo she held in her hands.

"You can't deny the resemblance," Rita said, looking at her over crossed fingers propped up under her chin. She hadn't taken her eyes off Teresa, watching her every expression.

Yes, the woman in the photo had long dark hair and eyes like her. She conceded that Rita seemed to know a lot about her mom. But why wait until now to make contact and give her a photo?

"Miss O'Brien—may I call you Teresa?" At her nod, Rita continued, "Angel was a pistol in her heyday."

"She died. A long time ago," Teresa said gently as she could, thinking Rita was hoping to find her.

"I read about it in the newspaper, at least what they thought happened. And that's why I'm here. What would you say if I told you where you could find your mama?"

Her phone pinged, but she turned it off. Teresa wanted to stand, but she couldn't seem to move out of her chair. The air around her turned electric. "My mom is alive?"

"I can get you in touch with her."

It felt like she was falling, but there was no place to land. "How? When?"

Rita smiled wide. "How about now, little lady? Only I left my phone in the car. Come out with me and I'll get her on the horn."

She slid back in her chair close to tears. She was losing it. But it was her mom. She got up to follow Rita, clutching her phone.

Murdoch had always told her to be aware of her surroundings, so she looked around but nothing was out of the ordinary except for a heavy set man standing beside a car, looking at her with a smile.

Rita made her way to him.

"Teresa, I'd like to introduce to you my boy, Eric. He helped me make the long drive to see you today."

Eric inclined his head, smiled wider and held out his hand. "How do, Miss."

She shook his hand but he kept holding on to her. In a minute, his left hand had grabbed her elbow.

The placid charm gave way to violent anger when Teresa tried to pull away. His demeanor changed in an instant and he yanked at her arm, loudly tearing her sleeve and making her cry out in surprise and pain.

Terrified, she looked up and saw Eric smile at her again.

tbc