~ Chapter 11 ~

Johnny bit his lower lip and, with eyes closed, drew a deep, exaggerated breath. Up to now it had only been a gnawing ache in his belly. Not anymore. Now all doubt was gone. Now, he was certain, certain the man he'd lived with for nearly four years was somehow connected to Remy.

Gone. His beads were gone. Beads he'd hoped he'd never need again. Why didn't he see that one coming? Should a. Should a known the kind of man he was dealing with. Guess there was still a small piece inside holdin' on to the hope that maybe he was wrong.

'You'd be surprised where a man's weakness lays, John. It could be a vice or a loved one or merely a thing. Everyone has one and once we find it, they'll do anything to protect it.' How many times had he heard those words? How many times had he done the very same thing?

And now, it was his turn. Remy, no doubt, was well rehearsed for the part. The weaknesses of the past could now be combined with those of the present. This was not good. He cared about so many things, so many people. Was everyone at risk? He opened his eyes and released the breath.

"Son, if there is something that needs saying, I would appreciate it if you just came out and said it. The voice caught him off guard. It echoed loud against the silence in the room. "Not knowing is only making me think the worst."

"Murdoch, believe me, whatever worst you got it's still better than what I'm gonna tell you. Hell, if this was easy I would a told you last night with a room full of people. But it ain't. What was I supposed to do? Kick everyone out so we could have a family meeting? It's not like I can follow you around and catch you alone," he said waving a hand over his leg. "I'm kind a stuck, in case you hadn't noticed."

"I realize that, John, but Scott, he could have talked to me, you seem to have found time to talk to him."

The ache in his father's voice caused Johnny to flinch. It was never his intent to hurt the man. "That wasn't my choice. He sort of had me backed in a corner, if you know what I mean."

"Yes, well, consider yourself cornered." Murdoch's eyes spoke louder than his words.

"All I had was my gut, until now. And I gotta tell ya, I needed a hell of a lot more than that before I went and kicked ya in the teeth."

"Yet, you're still having trouble, Johnny. Please, I'm your father. You could be putting people at risk, people I'm ultimately responsible for. What could possibly be so terrible?"

"Murdoch, you're not making this any easier."

"I'm sorry, son, but you have me very concerned. And you are in no condition to take care of anything on your own."

"Don't you think I know that?" The anger in his voice was unsettling. "Sure don't like it, but I know it," he said lowering his voice as he spoke. Fingers went to a bare wrist. "There aren't many…" Johnny said thoughtfully. "There aren't many that know what those beads mean to me." His eyes locked onto his father's. "You do realize that don't you?"

Murdoch leaned back into his chair, his eyes never leaving his son. "Is it that personal?" The question was hushed, all of the previous edge in his voice lost.

"It is."

"And the boy? He's somehow connected to all this? I'm at a loss to..." He stood and walked to the French doors, deep in thought. "Scott said something about his stepfather. You know the man?"

"I believe I do. I also believe we don't need to worry anymore about what Remy will do. For now his job is done. If there's gonna be any hurtin' his stepfather will want to see it firsthand. We just need to find out where he is, and what he wants. A tall order, but that's why Scott is taking Remy to Green River this afternoon. Just wish I could be the one going."

Murdoch turned away from the window. "Johnny? Who is this man? Who exactly are we talking about?"

There were so many unasked questions in his stare Johnny was compelled to look away. Murdoch moved to the back of the couch and putting a hand to his son's chin turned his face, forcing Johnny to look at him.

"Murdoch, do you remember last year, when I…"

"You know I do, Johnny. Those are days I'll never forget." He released Johnny's chin and allowed his hand to brush his son's cheek.

"When we talked on that hill I told you about a man, the man responsible for Mama and me leavin'. Do you remember his name?"

The tall man's eyes narrowed. "Grayson?" Murdoch asked with an outward breath. He leaned heavily on the couch. "You mean…?"

"I wanted to be sure Murdoch. Why spend time diggin' up the past for no reason." He looked into his father's eyes. They were trying to show no emotion, trying not to give anything away. He just didn't have enough practice. "At first I thought I was letting my head make me crazy. I mean, the last time I saw him he was pretty near dead. Dragged him to a doc across the border and made my peace. Usually avoided Nogales after that, at least the American side."

"Grayson." Murdoch repeated.

His voice was strung tight, like fence wire and Johnny reached out to touch his father. "Would be my guess you got a few questions to ask the man."

"Questions? No,I don't imagine he has any answers I want to hear, so what's the point." Murdoch's voice was hardened with hate. "He ruined this family, took away everything that had meaning, took away my hopes and dreams for a united family, took away…" He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I remember some of what you told me, the kind of man he was." His eyes were searching now, searching the eyes of his son. "If that's what he took from me, what on earth did he take from you?"

Unable to hold the look from his father, Johnny turned away again.

It was Murdoch's turn to reach out, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. "Johnny, you surprised me last year when you revealed why she left, and that was a generous gift. My love for her was no longer tainted by questions and misgivings. I'd gone over things in my mind so many times, tried to figure out what I'd done, what I'd said, tried to decide if I'd simply ignored the signs. She always appeared happy, full of life. What did he take from her? And what in God's name did he take from you?"

"God had nothing to do with it." Johnny spoke in a whisper.

"No, I don't imagine he did." Murdoch's voice trailed off. Sounds from the ranch wove their way into the silence. Maria walked in from the kitchen carrying the silver coffee pot and cups on a tray. She offered Johnny a sympathetic smile before setting the tray down on the footstool. She turned to head back into the kitchen without a word. "Maria," Murdoch called out. "We'll take breakfast in the kitchen this morning, not out here. Do you understand?"

"Si, Senor Lancer," she replied.

"And would you wake Willie? She wanted to get an early start."

"Si, Sería mi placer."

"Gracias, Maria."

She nodded and continued toward the kitchen.

Murdoch drifted from the back of the couch to the front and poured a cup of coffee. His actions were unfocused, his eyes revealed deep thought. Without words, he offered the cup to Johnny.

He grimaced, hoping his father would think it was from the pain. "No, Murdoch, think I'll stick with water." He passed his empty glass to his father and watched him fill it from the pitcher Scott had brought in earlier. The sound was pleasing and awakened his thirst.

Sipping from the cup intended for Johnny, Murdoch peered into the dark liquid. "It's not what Remy would have made but…" He stopped. A look of realization settled over his countenance as he looked from the cup to his son. "Was that it? Was it the coffee? Remy said it was the only way his stepfather would drink it."

"Yeah, that's what got me started." Johnny sipped some water and continued. "I'd had it before. Hell, I'd made it that way every day for nearly four years. Tried tellin' myself I was plumb crazy, that it was common."

"Common? In all my years I've never had coffee made that way."

"Can't say I like it much, leastwise not anymore. There was a time though, a time I couldn't wait for my next cup, a time…" He caught himself, not sure what Murdoch's reaction would be. He sucked in a breath and his voice grew louder. "Just came to realize, like ya said, I'd never met anyone else who did that to coffee. So it got me to consider the possibilities. And before I knew it I was yellin' at anyone that looked at me and not payin' full attention."

"Why Johnny? What aren't you telling me?"

"Don't want ya thinkin' any less of me, Murdoch. We've come a long way this year."

"Johnny, there's nothing that can diminish you in my eyes, you have to know that. I mean you were a boy. I am in no position to judge you and neither is anyone else. What was it you said that day? 'How's a boy supposed to know the difference?' He acted like your father, you trusted him, believed in him."

"I did. And when I look back, I know that's why I stayed for so long. I was Remy's age before I came to my senses, by then it was too late." He looked at his father, felt his acceptance and continued. "It's why I won't take any laudanum. I can't go through that again. I'm not that strong."

Murdoch's face clouded with rage and he bent to put down his cup. He let it drop before reaching the tray, the resulting crash split the cup in two. Its contents sloshed into the tray that now tipped precariously to one side and started a steady drip, drip, drip onto the carpet. He ran a hand over his face. "You were just a boy! That bastard! He has hurt too many people, too many people I love, and he needs to be stopped. He and that boy need to be brought to justice!"

"What on earth is all the commotion in here?" Sam asked as he rounded the corner from the stairs. "It is never a good idea to get my patients riled up when they are supposed to be resting."

"Did you know?" Murdoch bellowed. "Did you know why he refused laudanum? You're his doctor. You must have figured it out." The venom in his words caused Sam to step back. Murdoch took a step forward.

Nervously, Sam looked from Murdoch to Johnny. "I had my suspicions, Murdoch. But he never confided in me, if that's what you're asking. After Pardee's bullet, I knew it wasn't easy for him. I knew it took more than it should to relieve his pain."

"Why Sam? Why didn't you tell me?" Murdoch's softened voice faltered revealing how deeply he felt the betrayal. "You are my friend."

"That is exactly why. You were having a hard enough time coming to terms with the man he was. Why on earth would I give you information that would make it even more difficult? Plus I did it for Johnny because I am his doctor. I'm not a fool, Murdoch, and I most certainly do not go spouting off at the mouth when it comes to my patient's concerns."

"Now, Murdoch," Johnny interrupted, trying to calm his father. "Don't be takin' your anger out on the wrong people. Look where it got me yesterday." He swept a hand over his leg.

Murdoch was not deterred. "Then why did you offer him some yesterday? Shouldn't it be avoided?

"I don't appreciate being second guessed, Murdoch. He's a grown man, capable of making his own decisions. I know he'd never come right out and ask, so over the years I have always offered. Yesterday was the closest I've seen him come to accepting."

Eye's blazed as Murdoch and Sam appeared ready to continue their discourse. The sound of Willie's voice brought a sigh of relief from Johnny and both Murdoch and Sam looked up in time to see her emerge from the kitchen. "That was a delicious breakfast, thank you, Maria. I really shouldn't have taken the time but everything smelled so good."

Sam seized the opportunity for a change in subject. "Good breakfast you say? I hope there'll be some left after I finish here. I'm starving." He turned toward Johnny. "Let's get started, shall we?"

"The sooner you start the sooner I can make plans. Please, Sam."

"Plans? I don't think so. The only plans in your future are how to get up to your room. This couch must be getting uncomfortable by now." He put on his glasses. "You've done a good job at keeping it elevated, the swelling has gone down considerably but this bruising is another matter." He poked and prodded eliciting stifled groans intermingled with the occasional curse from his reluctant patient. "You're entire lower leg is going to be very tender for quite some time. Now can you…?"

"Yes, I can wiggle my toes, and yes I can move my ankle." Johnny snapped his answer to the doctor's unfinished question. He didn't like being poked and there was still so much left unsaid between him and his father he resented the interruption. "Ain't sayin' it don't hurt but, like I said yesterday, my ankle ain't broke and neither are my toes. So just wrap me up and you can be on your way."

"Hmpf!" Sam looked from one man to the other and both offered an icy stare. "To think I came downstairs in good spirits," Sam said, waving a hand in the general direction of the steps. "Between the two of you, those good spirits have been nipped in the bud. And now you think you're ready to practice medicine. Well, I have news for you young man…"

Up to now Willie had kept her distance, but as Sam's voice continued to rise and Murdoch's face reddened in anger she moved swiftly across the room. Threading her arm through Sam's she pulled him back from his position at the end of the couch. Her voice was soft yet firm leaving no doubt she meant business. "I suggest you take a deep breath, Sam, and regain that pleasant disposition. I don't think there is much patience in this room, and you would be wise to practice some."

Sam straightened his jacket and cleared his throat. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he cast a fleeting glance toward Willie. "Yes, I suppose you're right. Forgive me. It's been so long, I'd forgotten how bad you were at being a patient," he said to Johnny before turning to Murdoch. "And you were at being an anxious father. As I was about to say, I do believe you are the luckiest unlucky man I've ever met."

"And how's that?" Johnny groused.

"You are right about your foot and ankle, but up here, higher on your leg…"

Sam applied pressure causing Johnny to stiffen. "Shit, Sam, what the hell did ya do that for?"

Ignoring the remark the doctor continued. His hands traveled up the bruised and tender leg until he finally ended his search. "Here. This must be the point of initial impact. I can feel it, right.... there..."

Willie still stood beside Sam and watched, wide-eyed, as Johnny clenched his teeth and tried to twist away from the excruciating pain. The remnants of a muffled cry escaped, catching him off guard and forcing him to gasp for breath. Beads of sweat formed on his brow and upper lip.

"Sam!" Murdoch's thunderous voice made his frustration known. "There had to have been a better way than that!" He hastened to his son's aid sending the delicately balanced tray crashing to the floor. Willie moved equally as fast and grabbed the water pitcher as it teetered, clutching it to her breast. She knelt to the floor beside Johnny and pulled a fresh handkerchief from her pocket, dipped it in the pitcher and began wiping the sweat from his forehead. Murdoch stood at the head of the couch, his large hands pressed to Johnny's shoulders. Both pairs of eyes looked at Johnny then each other before turning their penetrating stares on the doctor.

His face was hardened when he looked up from his task and into their faces. "Do you think that was easy for me? Well, it wasn't. But it was my best plan of action. I'm sorry, but giving fair warning would have not made it hurt any less." Sam's eyes fell to Johnny. "Forgive me, the worst is over, I promise you."

Still breathless, with eyes squeezed shut, Johnny nodded. "Gotta tell ya, Sam." He gulped another breath. "I'm not feelin' the lucky part."

"Believe it or not, the lucky part is the location of the break. Being the smaller bone in your leg and this high up on your calf means it bears little weight. If it were the larger bone, the tibia, here, or if it were lower, closer to your ankle, you'd be in a plaster cast for weeks. So, even though you will be on bed rest until it starts to knit you won't require a cast, just a splint to keep the bone from shifting and a bandage. But, and I say but, this in no way means you can take this injury lightly. I expect you to stay off it. You can, with help, make your way from bed to couch but that is the extent of your travels. Have I made myself clear?"

Johnny squinted his eyes open, clamped his mouth shut and nodded. Pain still pulsed through his leg and the water in his belly was searching for a way out. He wasn't exactly sure what he'd been asked. In fact, he'd heard little of what Sam had to say. It just seemed the answer Sam was looking for and his brain wasn't working much past that. He watched Willie dip the hanky once more and wring out the excess. Johnny pried open her fingers and took the cloth from her hand. He let it fall open and pressed it to his still heated cheeks.

"Good." Sam looked around and pulled a blanket off a nearby chair. "You're going to feel cold soon," he said as he tucked the blanket in close to his upper body. "The pain heats you up, so you sweat, once the pain is over your body cools quickly leaving you chilled. I suggest some tea."

With the cloth still covering his face, Johnny shook his head. Tea was the last thing he wanted added to his still rebelling stomach.

"Nevertheless, I'll ask Maria to prepare some."

"She already is, Sam," stated Willie. She and Murdoch were working to clear the shards of china from the carpet. She stood carrying the glass in her skirt. "I'll check on it. But we were hoping to allow it to steep longer. It works better."

"And tastes worse," Johnny voiced as he removed the cloth.

"That may be true, but it will help, Johnny," Sam said, continuing with his treatment. "Honestly, the sheer agony of this injury would keep most men off their feet without strict doctor's orders. Unfortunately, I can't count on that with you, you are a stubborn mule."

"Ah yes, I must agree with him on that point, Brother, you are stubborn." Scott made his entrance through the front door removing his hat. He brushed past Willie and dusted her cheek with a kiss while peering into the folds of her skirt. "Broken glass? And no Remy in sight? Is this becoming a habit for you?"

"Not funny, Scott," she scoffed then left the room.

"I see everyone chose to rise early today. The wagon's packed and I'm ready to head to Spanish Wells, whenever she's ready."

"Give me a few more minutes," She said returning with several cloths, a whisk broom and dust pan. "We can't have Johnny stepping on broken glass with his good foot, or anyone else, for that matter."

Scott walked deeper into the room. "We all have a busy day," he said with a gloved clap.

"No, Scott, not all," Johnny growled.

He peered over the back of the couch at his brother. "You're not looking so good." His eyes traveled from Johnny to his father's tense face.

"Sam, just set the bone." Murdoch's spiritless tone revealed his fatigue.

"He did it so fast, with no warning. It took us all by surprise. I felt so helpless," Willie confessed from her spot on the floor.

"Perhaps this will help, Brother. It's from Stu. Said he owed you." Scott fished in his pocket and handed Johnny the fifteen dollars Stu gave him over breakfast. "He won again at faro and had a few interesting things to say about a man calling himself Ace Gray."

"You don't say," said Johnny. "Gray, Grayson I'd say we're on the right track."

"That's Remy's last name. Isn't it?" Murdoch asked.

"It is." Scott looked from Johnny to Murdoch. "I'm hoping Johnny made good on his promise?"

"He did," Johnny bemoaned. "At least he started to."

"Good then everything is out in the open. That certainly makes things easier."

"Yes, and as long as things are in the open, you should know I plan on going with you to Green River," Murdoch stated.

"Sir, do you really think that's best? I mean considering... Johnny, talk him out of it," Scott pleaded.

"I'm old enough to make my own decisions and my mind's made up." He glared at his elder son. "Do you have any objections?"

"Several, but I'll keep them to myself."

"Good!"

Sam looked at Willie and smiled a terse smile. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather go back with me? I think we are the only two operating an even keel today."

"Thank you, Sam, but no." She turned to Scott and added. "I'll get rid of these things and will be ready to go."

He placed a hand on the small of her back as she walked past. With his hat back on his head he turned to face Murdoch. "It wasn't my intention to come back to the ranch. I'm picking up Remy at the camp then heading directly to Green River. If you insist on joining me you'll have to meet me there. My only hope is by then Johnny will have talked you out of this."

"I'll be there, Scott," Murdoch said as he followed him to the door.

Willie hurried from the kitchen. She stood on her toes and the tall man bent slightly allowing her to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. "Thank you," she said.

"It's always a pleasure. I Hope you come back soon, Willie." He gave her arm a tender squeeze. Murdoch closed the door only to catch sight of Teresa running down the stairs. "Oh dear, did I miss her? I promised her this book, 'The Dead Letter' and I only just found it."

"You can catch her, Dear," Murdoch said as he reopened the door. Teresa rushed out.

Murdoch returned to the great room only to see Sam making the final wraps of Johnny's bandage, the pain of the procedure written all over his son's face.

"That should do it," said Sam. "The less you rest the more it will swell and the more it will hurt. I don't want to hear the bandage needed to be rewrapped, but if you feel tingling or your toes feel cold that is exactly what will be required. And that will mean you didn't listen to me. Plus it will add time to the healing process."

"I hear ya, Doc and I promise to do my best."

"Yes, that's what worries me." He packed away his belongings and closed his bag with a snap. "Now, I think I'll have breakfast before heading back. I'll check on you before I leave."

"Is it alright if Murdoch helps me upstairs, Sam? Feelin' kinda tired and think I'd rest better in my own bed."

Sam stopped and turned to face Johnny, his hands on his hips. "Why do I get the distinct impression you're trying to placate me?"

"Not sure I know what that is, Sam, but if it means I'm trying to follow your orders the answer is yes." Johnny tried his best to grin, but he knew it was less than convincing.

Shaking his head Sam smiled when Teresa returned from outside. "Would you care to join me for breakfast? I find the men here today to be quite infuriating."

"That's nothing unusual, Sam. Try living with them."

TBC