Part twelve
Once, the town had confirmed that Bede Cale was indeed dead and what was left of his gang had high-tailed it out of town, it was like watching a ghost town come back to life as people spilled out of their houses. A disgusted Murdoch watched the commotion from the doctor's office as he waited for news on the condition of his sons. He still couldn't believe the amount of people that now flooded the once deserted street. Where were these people when his sons were in the streets about to be gunned down by Cale and his men?
Murdoch had dismissed the congratulations and gratitude that were heaped on him as he hovered over his sons' bleeding bodies. Shouting for help, he had been ignored as the gawking crowd, who seemed to find it far more interesting to stand around staring at the dead bodies that littered the streets. Unable to hold his patience back any longer, Murdoch was forced to physically haul a couple of the townspeople out of the mindless crowd, to help him carry his sons to the doctor's clinic.
"Mr. Lancer?"
Murdoch instantly turned at the sound of the doctor's voice and quickly made his way over to him. "My sons?"
Having just washed the blood of the blonde Lancer off his hands, Doctor Kessler, a short, balding man of about sixty-five, finished his cleaning and tossed the used towel on to a table. "I'll tell you Mr. Lancer, I've never seen two men so eager to fight over who gets treated first in my life. But, even with their stubborn streaks, they'll both live." He sounded amused.
More than relieved that his sons would survive, Murdoch's attention was momentarily distracted by a noisy celebration passing by the doctor's window, "Look at them all! You'd swear it was the fourth of July." The rancher could barely hide his distain.
Following Murdoch's gaze, the Doctor couldn't help feel the same elation as the crowd. "You can't blame them, Mr. Lancer. They have been living in fear for weeks. The death of Cale has freed this town."
"But why did it come to this? Why did my sons have to risk their lives to save your town? Why didn't you save yourselves?" Murdoch angrily demanded of the doctor.
"This wasn't our fight!" The doctor argued. "It was personal between Cale and the banker and his Spanish who-- 'wife'. It was their fault all this happened."
"And you doctor? Where were you during all this?" Murdoch asked, trying to remember he was talking to the man who had probably saved his sons' lives.
"I, sir, am a healer, not a killer," the doctor retorted.
"And neither are my boys, but they did what they had to do to try and save lives out there today." Seeing the arguing wasn't going to accomplish anything, Murdoch changed the subject. "Can I see my sons?"
"Of course," the answered curtly.
Turning to follow the doctor, Murdoch heard the door open behind him and turned to see the banker.
"Mr. Beaudine," Murdoch smiled as he walked up to the younger man and took his hand. "How's your wife?"
"A courageous woman, Mr. Lancer. Solana makes me very right proud. She says she's fine. I don't know if I believe her, but I will be with her every day for the rest of her life to make sure she is." Sam replied before asking after the two men who had risked their lives for his wife. "And your sons?"
"The 'doctor' says they'll live," Murdoch tried to mask his
antagonism for the doctor's opinions, but as Kessler's title dripped
from his lips, he knew he hadn't succeeded. He smiled wearily;
knowing the banker had caught his slip. "Which just doesn't surprise me. I'm sure they intend to be around to aggravate me for a long time yet."
"I do hope so, Mr. Lancer." Sam smiled, "I owe all of you so much."
"As I do you. I don't know if you realize it, but you saved my sons' lives out there today."
Sam looked down at the ground, feeling unworthy of the older man's praise. "But Mr. Lancer, I missed-- twice."
Placing a firm hand to the banker's shoulder, Murdoch refused to let the young man shoulder any more guilt. "You got Bede Cale when it counted. I'm in your debt, Mr. Beaudine."
Sam met the rancher steely gaze and accepted the gratitude he saw there. "Let's call it even." Beaudine grinned as he offered his hand.
"What are you going to do now," Murdoch asked as he accepted the hand. "Reopen the bank?
Sam shook his head as he bitterly cast an eye toward the street. "No, Los Almos holds nothing for me now. We're packing to leave in the morning. The sooner we put distance between this town and us, the better."
"Couldn't agree with you more. You both take care now."
"You too. Can you tell Scott and Johnny that Solana and I will come and see them before we leave?" Sam asked as he headed for the front door.
"I'll do that now," Murdoch replied as he waved the young man off and went to check on Scott and Johnny.
LRLRLRLRLRLR
Standing at the doorway, Murdoch watched his sons as they rested. Each rise of their chests was a soothing ointment to a bruised father's heart.
"Well, my boys the invalids." Murdoch joked. His light-hearted demeanor was worn as a mask that barely covered the sheer terror he had felt only hours before.
"He's the invalid," Scott grinned as quickly jumped in to tease his brother. "Shot in the side, hit on the head. He never made any sense before anyway, now he's going to make none at all."
The usually quick repartee between brothers was absent as Johnny refused to join in with Scott's game.
Picking up on his Johnny's sullen mood, Murdoch attempted to ignore it as he went on to explain his plans to leave the town as soon as possible.
"Not going home. Nothing's changed."
Johnny's words had both men stunned.
Scott bolted upright in his bed; the movement pulling at his wound and causing him let out a hiss as he grabbed his leg in pain. "What do you mean you're not coming home?" Scott demanded through clenched teeth.
Johnny refused to meet either man's gaze, as he went on to explain himself. "I'm still Johnny Madrid and even though Cale is dead, his wanted posters are still out there somewhere." Johnny stared straight ahead, releasing a scornful laugh as he thought of Cale and the damage he'd caused to his life. "The sonofa-- he still won."
Murdoch stepped slowly to Johnny's side, as if he was frightened he'd scare his son away. "He's won nothing. You're coming home where you belong."
Spinning his head around to face his father and instantly regretting the movement as the room spun, Johnny spoke softly as he looked at the occupant of the other bed. "And if Boston had got killed out on that street today because of me? How would you feel about Johnny Madrid then?"
Murdoch lowered himself to Johnny's bed, bringing himself to his son's level. "The same way I do now. I learnt something today, Johnny. Whether you are Johnny Madrid or Johnny Lancer, you are still a man I am proud to call son."
Johnny could see the true depth of his father's feelings. Heck, a blind man could see the love there, but he couldn't risk believing that this could all work out so easily. That he could actually live happily ever after. "I can't do it. What if next time, it's, Teresa, or Jelly? I can't risk my family."
Scott could no longer stay quiet, as he watched his brother seemingly bowed and determined to sacrifice himself for his family. "We're not letting you go, brother. No matter how much you kick and scream. You have to believe that together we Lancer's can survive anything."
Johnny didn't want to talk about this. It would mean opening himself up for all that pain again. Why wouldn't they just let him go?
"Believe?" Johnny said sadly, still able to hear his mother's voice. "I believed every word my mother told me about you Murdoch. All these years of believing that you left me, that you didn't love me. I believed that I was who I was, because you abandoned us and I didn't even know you existed, Boston. It's so hard," Johnny paused as he lowered his head, "to put any belief in anyone at all.
Murdoch had never seen so much pure suffering reflected in someone's eyes before, and it hurt that he hadn't been there for son in those early painful years. He would have like to curse Johnny's mother for causing their son so much pain, but he couldn't. She had given him something wonderful, a complex, infuriating and amazing son.
Reaching into his pocket, Murdoch retrieved the papers he had been carrying all through their ordeal, in the hope he could do what he was about to do. "Well, this time, you can believe."
As Murdoch held the deed out in front in front of his son, Scott held his breath waiting to see what Johnny would do.
Looking first at his brother and then at his father, Johnny made his decision.
"I 'believe' that's mine," Johnny smiled as he accepted his life at Lancer for the final time.
The end
Once, the town had confirmed that Bede Cale was indeed dead and what was left of his gang had high-tailed it out of town, it was like watching a ghost town come back to life as people spilled out of their houses. A disgusted Murdoch watched the commotion from the doctor's office as he waited for news on the condition of his sons. He still couldn't believe the amount of people that now flooded the once deserted street. Where were these people when his sons were in the streets about to be gunned down by Cale and his men?
Murdoch had dismissed the congratulations and gratitude that were heaped on him as he hovered over his sons' bleeding bodies. Shouting for help, he had been ignored as the gawking crowd, who seemed to find it far more interesting to stand around staring at the dead bodies that littered the streets. Unable to hold his patience back any longer, Murdoch was forced to physically haul a couple of the townspeople out of the mindless crowd, to help him carry his sons to the doctor's clinic.
"Mr. Lancer?"
Murdoch instantly turned at the sound of the doctor's voice and quickly made his way over to him. "My sons?"
Having just washed the blood of the blonde Lancer off his hands, Doctor Kessler, a short, balding man of about sixty-five, finished his cleaning and tossed the used towel on to a table. "I'll tell you Mr. Lancer, I've never seen two men so eager to fight over who gets treated first in my life. But, even with their stubborn streaks, they'll both live." He sounded amused.
More than relieved that his sons would survive, Murdoch's attention was momentarily distracted by a noisy celebration passing by the doctor's window, "Look at them all! You'd swear it was the fourth of July." The rancher could barely hide his distain.
Following Murdoch's gaze, the Doctor couldn't help feel the same elation as the crowd. "You can't blame them, Mr. Lancer. They have been living in fear for weeks. The death of Cale has freed this town."
"But why did it come to this? Why did my sons have to risk their lives to save your town? Why didn't you save yourselves?" Murdoch angrily demanded of the doctor.
"This wasn't our fight!" The doctor argued. "It was personal between Cale and the banker and his Spanish who-- 'wife'. It was their fault all this happened."
"And you doctor? Where were you during all this?" Murdoch asked, trying to remember he was talking to the man who had probably saved his sons' lives.
"I, sir, am a healer, not a killer," the doctor retorted.
"And neither are my boys, but they did what they had to do to try and save lives out there today." Seeing the arguing wasn't going to accomplish anything, Murdoch changed the subject. "Can I see my sons?"
"Of course," the answered curtly.
Turning to follow the doctor, Murdoch heard the door open behind him and turned to see the banker.
"Mr. Beaudine," Murdoch smiled as he walked up to the younger man and took his hand. "How's your wife?"
"A courageous woman, Mr. Lancer. Solana makes me very right proud. She says she's fine. I don't know if I believe her, but I will be with her every day for the rest of her life to make sure she is." Sam replied before asking after the two men who had risked their lives for his wife. "And your sons?"
"The 'doctor' says they'll live," Murdoch tried to mask his
antagonism for the doctor's opinions, but as Kessler's title dripped
from his lips, he knew he hadn't succeeded. He smiled wearily;
knowing the banker had caught his slip. "Which just doesn't surprise me. I'm sure they intend to be around to aggravate me for a long time yet."
"I do hope so, Mr. Lancer." Sam smiled, "I owe all of you so much."
"As I do you. I don't know if you realize it, but you saved my sons' lives out there today."
Sam looked down at the ground, feeling unworthy of the older man's praise. "But Mr. Lancer, I missed-- twice."
Placing a firm hand to the banker's shoulder, Murdoch refused to let the young man shoulder any more guilt. "You got Bede Cale when it counted. I'm in your debt, Mr. Beaudine."
Sam met the rancher steely gaze and accepted the gratitude he saw there. "Let's call it even." Beaudine grinned as he offered his hand.
"What are you going to do now," Murdoch asked as he accepted the hand. "Reopen the bank?
Sam shook his head as he bitterly cast an eye toward the street. "No, Los Almos holds nothing for me now. We're packing to leave in the morning. The sooner we put distance between this town and us, the better."
"Couldn't agree with you more. You both take care now."
"You too. Can you tell Scott and Johnny that Solana and I will come and see them before we leave?" Sam asked as he headed for the front door.
"I'll do that now," Murdoch replied as he waved the young man off and went to check on Scott and Johnny.
LRLRLRLRLRLR
Standing at the doorway, Murdoch watched his sons as they rested. Each rise of their chests was a soothing ointment to a bruised father's heart.
"Well, my boys the invalids." Murdoch joked. His light-hearted demeanor was worn as a mask that barely covered the sheer terror he had felt only hours before.
"He's the invalid," Scott grinned as quickly jumped in to tease his brother. "Shot in the side, hit on the head. He never made any sense before anyway, now he's going to make none at all."
The usually quick repartee between brothers was absent as Johnny refused to join in with Scott's game.
Picking up on his Johnny's sullen mood, Murdoch attempted to ignore it as he went on to explain his plans to leave the town as soon as possible.
"Not going home. Nothing's changed."
Johnny's words had both men stunned.
Scott bolted upright in his bed; the movement pulling at his wound and causing him let out a hiss as he grabbed his leg in pain. "What do you mean you're not coming home?" Scott demanded through clenched teeth.
Johnny refused to meet either man's gaze, as he went on to explain himself. "I'm still Johnny Madrid and even though Cale is dead, his wanted posters are still out there somewhere." Johnny stared straight ahead, releasing a scornful laugh as he thought of Cale and the damage he'd caused to his life. "The sonofa-- he still won."
Murdoch stepped slowly to Johnny's side, as if he was frightened he'd scare his son away. "He's won nothing. You're coming home where you belong."
Spinning his head around to face his father and instantly regretting the movement as the room spun, Johnny spoke softly as he looked at the occupant of the other bed. "And if Boston had got killed out on that street today because of me? How would you feel about Johnny Madrid then?"
Murdoch lowered himself to Johnny's bed, bringing himself to his son's level. "The same way I do now. I learnt something today, Johnny. Whether you are Johnny Madrid or Johnny Lancer, you are still a man I am proud to call son."
Johnny could see the true depth of his father's feelings. Heck, a blind man could see the love there, but he couldn't risk believing that this could all work out so easily. That he could actually live happily ever after. "I can't do it. What if next time, it's, Teresa, or Jelly? I can't risk my family."
Scott could no longer stay quiet, as he watched his brother seemingly bowed and determined to sacrifice himself for his family. "We're not letting you go, brother. No matter how much you kick and scream. You have to believe that together we Lancer's can survive anything."
Johnny didn't want to talk about this. It would mean opening himself up for all that pain again. Why wouldn't they just let him go?
"Believe?" Johnny said sadly, still able to hear his mother's voice. "I believed every word my mother told me about you Murdoch. All these years of believing that you left me, that you didn't love me. I believed that I was who I was, because you abandoned us and I didn't even know you existed, Boston. It's so hard," Johnny paused as he lowered his head, "to put any belief in anyone at all.
Murdoch had never seen so much pure suffering reflected in someone's eyes before, and it hurt that he hadn't been there for son in those early painful years. He would have like to curse Johnny's mother for causing their son so much pain, but he couldn't. She had given him something wonderful, a complex, infuriating and amazing son.
Reaching into his pocket, Murdoch retrieved the papers he had been carrying all through their ordeal, in the hope he could do what he was about to do. "Well, this time, you can believe."
As Murdoch held the deed out in front in front of his son, Scott held his breath waiting to see what Johnny would do.
Looking first at his brother and then at his father, Johnny made his decision.
"I 'believe' that's mine," Johnny smiled as he accepted his life at Lancer for the final time.
The end