Chapter 6

Pacing, Murdoch walked the length of the veranda. The faintest glow could be seen in the western sky as the sun bid its farewell. It was the only time the sun had made an appearance all day. It cast a final bright blaze of color before slipping behind the mountains, leaving behind no lingering warmth, only a damp chill.

The men had returned from the camp some time ago. Carrying with them reports of Johnny being injured in some way, but there were few specifics and they did not act terribly concerned. Instead they busied themselves with preparations for town. They said Johnny made light of it, was walking around and sent them on their way, even Scott agreed. What Murdoch was fully aware of, however, was that his youngest son had a way of minimizing any injury and the longer they took getting back the more uneasy he became. The sensible side of him realized they needed to wait for the railroad's wagons leaving a ripple of hope that he was over reacting.

Unfortunately, there was another thing that concerned him. When he asked where Ramón was, no one knew. Said he was the first to take off, angry no doubt. Johnny had been in a nasty mood after lunch and took much of it out on Ramón. Fits of temper were rare for either of his sons unless there was a resounding reason and as far as Murdoch could tell, there wasn't one. Repeatedly Murdoch's thoughts went to the boy. He couldn't help but think some of this was Remy's fault. Things had, up until now, been going so well.

His unease turned to dread as he watched a surrey approach, Sam's surrey. The tightening in his chest lessened some at the sight of Willie, seated next to him.

"I get the distinct feeling this isn't a social call, Sam."

"You mean they're not here yet? Ramón was sure they would be back before us."

"Ramón?"

"Yes, he came and found me, Murdoch. He said Johnny's leg was crushed by some logs. We've had such a long stretch. You haven't needed me for months, not even the sniffles. I was getting used to it."

"Me too, Sam, me too." Murdoch moved to Willie's side of the surrey. "And you, Young Lady? I'm glad you're here. Scott will be too." He reached for her hand as she stepped from the carriage.

"Sam and I were together when Ramón came in, I hope you don't mind. I feel so much a part of this family; I felt my place was here."

A tender arm embraced her. "Willie, your place will always be here." He ushered her toward the door. "Teresa has done nothing all day but talk of your arrival. And, if I'm not mistaken, she has found an assortment of things in the attic to help with your, uhm, disaster.

"Ah, yes, that would be Remy. It was my understanding that Scott brought him back here; yet, I see the house is still standing. She paused for a moment, head tilting in thought. "You don't think he…"

"Say no more," Murdoch said with a raised hand. "I've thought the same thing." Casting a glance over his shoulder he added. "Suppose we'll find out soon enough, I think that's them now."

"Good, I'll let Teresa know," Willie said as she walked into the house.

The two men stood alone peering into the twilight at the approaching wagon. "Well, Sam, what do you think? Crushed doesn't sound good to me."

"No Murdoch, it doesn't to me either, but whatever it is we'll deal with it. Like we always do."

~*~*~*~

Much to Scott's relief they finally passed under the Lancer arch. What little sun they'd seen had slipped quickly behind the horizon and the tawny glow from the hacienda was a most welcome and warming sight. Why did it always seem to take longer to get home?

Johnny had talked incessantly. At least he had until a short time ago. He'd said little of value, offering no clues as to why he became so upset. Mostly he recited that damn poem, Remy was familiar with as well. This was mixed with comments about having no firewood in his room then adding between yawns that he wanted to stay on the couch, didn't want to be carted off to his room and left alone while everyone ate dinner. An unlikely prospect, him being left alone but the statement both comforted and concerned Scott for a variety of reasons. He finally settled on the fact that Johnny was drunk and a drunken Johnny, though rare, usually wanted company in one form or another.

An audible sigh of relief passed Scott's lips when he managed to make out Sam's surrey and he felt the pounding of his heart as the front door opened and he could see Willie's silhouette enter the hacienda. Pushing the horses faster, Scott just wanted to get his brother to Sam and find himself wrapped in Willie's embrace. "We're almost home, Johnny."

"Good, Scott, cuz I'm needin' some more ta drink." He shifted his position with a hiss. "Damn leg's startin'ta burn somethin' fierce."

"I'm not so sure Sam's going to offer you a drink, Johnny. I think you've had plenty."

"Where's Barranca? Got somethin' in my saddle bag." Johnny pushed up to look around. "Shit, Scott, when'd it get dark? Where's Barranca?"

"Barranca's all set. Miguel took him. He'll take good care of him."

"I'm thirsty, Scott."

"We have water and coffee, Johnny. Take your pick."

Remy turned around to pass back the canteen. Johnny batted it away. "Don't want any f… hey we're almost home," Johnny said, now able to see the arch from his position.

"I said that Johnny. Murdoch and Sam are waiting outside, it won't be long now."

"Good, Scott, cuz I'm needin' more ta drink."

"Yes, Johnny, I heard you the first time." Scott said while smiling at Remy. Being so close to home had relaxed the knot in his stomach.

Johnny draped himself over the side of the wagon. "Hey, Murdoch!" he shouted, "What's Sam doin' here? Tol' Scott I din't need him."

"I'll determine whether I'm needed or not, thank you very much," Sam huffed. "What did you get yourself into this time, Johnny?"

"Me? S'not my fault."

"Are you drunk, Johnny?" Sam asked as the wagon slowed to a stop.

"Scott," Murdoch groaned. "Don't tell me you let him drink?"

"Told ya it'd be your fault, Brother."

Scott opened his mouth to speak as he stepped carefully from the wagon but Sam interrupted. "Murdoch, never mind about that. They're wet and cold, I need him inside so I can have a look. And they all need to get dried off. That goes for you too, Young Man." Sam called to Remy as he jumped down. The ensuing jerk of the wagon elicited a loud groan from Johnny.

"Remy!" Scott shouted. "Be careful."

"I'm gonna get started on some food for Mr. Smith and his men." He took off behind the house, headed for the kitchen used by the hands. "Don't worry about me," he called back. "The cook fire will warm me right up."

"Remember what I told you, Remy. Clean up after yourself!" Scott shouted.

"Come on Johnny, let's get you inside," Murdoch urged.

"Whose idea was these branches?" Sam asked as he pulled them out of the back of the wagon. "It was a good one. And the splint?"

"We had some help from a man with the railroad. It's a long story but you'll get to meet him."

Johnny put an arm around each Lancer's shoulder.

"Careful. Careful." Sam advised. "How are you holding up, Johnny?"

A sharp intake of breath was his initial response as his good foot hit the ground. "Better if I ain't movin' and a lot better if I had more whiskey, Sam. Damn shit's worn off."

"Yes, well let's get you inside before I start doling out pain killer."

"Scott," Murdoch asked quietly, "Was this in anyway caused by the boy? Because if it was, I'd have to ask him to leave."

"No, Sir. It was an accident, an unfortunate accident."

"You're doing fine, Johnny. We'll have you upstairs in no time."

"Nope. Ain't goin' upstairs, Sam."

"About that, Sam, he's been pretty adamant, said he wants to stay down here on the couch."

"Yup, gonna stay right there." Johnny nodded toward the couch while leaning heavily into Murdoch. "Wanna be with everyone else. Where it's warm and I can hear your voices."

Sam glanced at Murdoch. "Whatever he wants, Sam," he said changing direction.

"Very well then. Teresa we'll need dry clothes and blankets. Some clean bandages to retie the splint, it appears to be getting tight." Johnny reclined on the sofa, his good leg pressed to the floor. Sam leaned forward to examine his patient's leg. He shook his head. "With this kind of swelling I'm not sure if I'll be able to do anything tonight."

"I'll be needin' some more of that whiskey now. This thing is startin' ta…" Johnny stiffened, his back arched to the pain. "Shit."

"You'll get no more alcohol, Young Man. It may have contributed to the severe swelling we're seeing. Willow bark tea is in order." Sam spoke as he took Johnny's pulse. His brow furrowed. "It's fast and you're perspiring. I'd prefer you took something stronger."

Johnny simply shook his head, gripping the back of the couch against another wave of pain. "It'll quit buckin'. Don't hurt like this all the time."

"I made the tea," Willie said as she emerged from the kitchen holding the teapot and cup in the folds of her dress. "It really should steep longer but…"

"Thank you, Willie." Murdoch offered a concerned smile as he took the pot from her hands.

With Johnny situated and receiving both Sam and Murdoch's full attention Scott stepped back. Teresa ran off upstairs to gather the items Sam requested.

"You need dry clothes too," Willie said. Scott felt the touch of her warm hands as they wrapped his waist. He spun into her embrace. Keeping his voice low he traced her cheekbones with his thumbs. "I'm warm enough now." Holding her close, he whispered, "Thank you for coming."

"How is he, Scott? He's certainly in a lot of pain and it's so swollen. I've never seen anything like it."

Arms laden, Teresa ran back down the stairs and gestured for Willie to take a blanket from the pile. Unfolding it, Willie placed it around Scott's shoulders. "If you won't go change at least you can be warm." Together they moved to the dining table, out of the way.

"If you saw it, Willie… I tell you, I'll be amazed if it isn't broken. Three huge logs rolled down right onto his leg. At first he blamed Remy, but the kid was nowhere in sight."

"Was it his fault, Scott? I know Murdoch was concerned. In fact, that's all I could think of during the ride out here. Is he somehow responsible?"

"Not directly, Willie. But he was responsible for the way Johnny's demeanor changed. It had something to do with his coffee, of all things. Johnny threw it out, said he'd rather drink Val's coffee."

"Val's coffee?" Willie swallowed back a laugh.

"Yes. Thing is he knew exactly what was in it. Obviously he's had it before."

"Did you ask him?"

"There was no talking to him, he was being unreasonable." Scott spread his arms then pulled the blanket closer. "When he finally calmed down this happened. It was an accident, Willie. A crazy accident, brought on by carelessness but none of it Remy's. I do have to wonder about the boy, though. Johnny certainly hasn't taken to him. Perhaps I was too hasty in bringing him here."

"By the looks of things, I don't think you'll need to worry about it, Scott. Johnny won't be working out there for a while, so Remy will be your problem, won't he?"

"I suppose you're right."

They watched as Sam snapped closed his bag and straightened, pressing his hands into the small of his back. "Well, Johnny, at this point it is impossible to tell for certain if the bone is broken. Not with all that swelling." He sighed and shook his head. "I do wish you'd stayed off it, and avoiding alcohol would have been best. My guess - a broken fibula along with deep bruising to the bone and soft tissue, which, considering the turn of events is about the best we can hope for. As for the ankle, I can't tell. It is too swollen, but I'm glad your friend from the railroad had enough wherewithal to splint it." Sam passed Johnny a cup of tea. "You're lucky Scott reacted so fast, trapped too long and the results could have been disastrous."

"Ain't feelin' lucky, Sam."

"No, I don't imagine you are. Drink up and try to rest."

Murdoch walked to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a drink. He swallowed it in one gulp. "Thank you, Sam," he said filling his glass and two others, offering the doctor one of the glasses. "You'll stay for supper? Teresa and Maria have been cooking all day, knowing Willie was coming. With this misfortune the festive spirit may be gone but the company of friends and the good food remains." Concerned eyes traveled past Sam to his elder son. "Scott, get over here where it's warm." Murdoch extended his hand with the glass of amber liquor as if it were a prize. "Don't want both my boys out of commission. One is more than enough." Willie gave Scott a gentle shove and he moved closer to the flames, took the glass with a nod and sat on the hassock, facing his brother.

"And you, My Dear?" Murdoch asked Willie, holding up a bottle of his finest scotch, with a knowing grin. "Would you like a drink?"

"Oh, Murdoch, you do know me. I would love a little." She sighed. "It has been a rather trying couple of days."

"Sit right here in my chair," he said passing her the glass. The two of you can keep Johnny company." He looked out the French doors. "I imagine those horses are Smith and his men. Care to join me, Sam?"

"By all means, Murdoch." Sam set his drink on the mantle and followed his friend out the door.

"Oh, sure, everyone gets a drink but me. Told ya I wasn't feeling lucky," Johnny said as he sipped his tea, his face pinching at the bitter taste.

"You just drink your tea, Brother, or I'm sure Sam has something stronger in his bag. Some laudanum, perhaps? If you complain we could mix it with some of Remy's coffee. I hear that it hides the bittern…"

Johnny's face reddened as he attempted to push himself off the couch. "That's not funny, Scott!"

"Now, whoa there, Brother, I didn't mean anything by it." Scott looked to Willie who shook her head. "Is that it, Johnny? Is that why you…" He caught a momentary look in his brother's eyes, it was difficult to place. "Johnny," Scott spoke softly while pushing his brother back down onto the couch. The brief look was now replaced by one of intense pain. "Relax, this isn't good for you. You have to stay put or we will be carting you upstairs." He helped to put the injured leg back into its elevated position and returned to his place by the fire.

Willie stood, finishing her drink and setting her empty glass next to Sam's. "Perhaps, I should go help Teresa with dinner. It appears you two may have something to discuss." She placed both hands on Scott's shoulders and bent to kiss his cheek.

"Good idea, Willie," Scott said gently patting her hand. "I'm starving. How about you, Johnny? Hungry?"

"Not so much, Scott. Wish this damn thing didn't hurt so much, is all."

The click of Willie's heels faded away leaving behind only silence. Scott inched the footstool closer to his brother and waited. Johnny lay sprawled on the couch, his body rigid against the pain brought on by his sudden movement. The foot of his good leg pressed hard against the floor his injured one was back on the pile of pillows. One arm pushed against the pain in his leg the other lay draped across his eyes, hand squeezed into a tight fist. Scott waited.

"You don't have to keep staring at me, Scott. I ain't goin' nowhere," Johnny said without moving his arm away from his eyes.

"Oh, I know that, Brother. That's not what I'm waiting for."

"Is that so? Well if you expect me to go spilling my guts you got a long wait."

"I need you to tell me what to do about Remy, Johnny. There are obviously some things there that don't sit well with you. Should I make him leave?"

"Not sure it's him exactly, Scott. I mean, plenty of people make coffee that way. It ain't like it means the kid knows the man. Just let it go, Scott, please just let it go."

"It may not just be the coffee, Johnny. He's from Nogales and his stepfather, he knew a kid that could break a horse like no other. Put those things together, Johnny, and I have a pretty good feeling he knows, the man, as you put it. So, back to my original question, what should I do about Remy?"

"Don't know what ta tell ya, Scott. But I'm thinkin' I don't want him anywhere near me. Suppose, if I were you, I'd keep an eye on him. Hard to say if he's trouble. Easy to say he's probably pretty messed up."

Both men fell quiet for a spell. Voices and laughter from outside found its way through the closed doors. "He says he has a sister, Johnny. Says she's with this stepfather."

"Now that could spell trouble, Scott. I have a pretty good idea of what I'd be willing to do if I were in his shoes."

"Johnny?"

"Yeah, Scott."

"The coffee, was there usually something in it?"

"Usually, Scott. I came to expect it, need it. I was a kid, wasn't sure why just knew I had to have it. When the coffee was plain, like it was today, well, I'd get a little worked up. Kind of like this afternoon. It worked to his advantage."

"Who, Johnny? Who are we talking about?" Scott swallowed hard having a pretty good idea what name he would hear.

TBC