Part three
Trying to ignore the pain that left him weak and gasping for air, Johnny once again labored to push himself to his knees, frantically trying to find purchase on the now wet and slippery earth as the rain continued to fall.
"Get up!" He demanded of his resisting body through clenched teeth, and for once his body, though painfully showing its disdain for the order it had been given; did what had been asked of it.
Searching through the curtain of rain, at the area around him, Johnny dug desperately through his still confused memory in attempt to pinpoint where exactly he'd left his brother and in what condition that had been. Some distance in front of him, his eyes came to rest on a rope lying discarded in the muddy ground. In an instant, the cord became the catalyst to clarifying the events that had led to this moment.
Sounds and images of the teasing-banter he and Scott had been participating in, flashed through his mind, before abruptly ending with his brother's disappearing into the ground.
"Scott!"
Gritting his teeth, Johnny unsuccessfully tried to rid himself of the tremors that wracked his injured and rain-drenched body as he stumbled toward the rope. Stooping to pick it up, Johnny's wounds cruelly rebelled against his actions, and he lurched forward close to falling, a wave of dizziness again threatening to impede his progress.
Refusing to concede to his body's persistent demands to give in, Johnny managed to once more drive back the encroaching darkness. Barely able to feel the touch the cord beneath his chilled fingers, Johnny grasped it firmly as he resolutely made his way back up the hill.
LRLRLRLRLR
How long had it been since he had heard the gut-wrenching scream and gunshot that had directly followed? Scott's only testament to the length of time passed, was the muddy water that had now risen to pool around his waist. While his own predicament seemed perilous enough, he couldn't help being more concerned with the unknown situation above ground.
Having had time to do nothing but think about the sound of gunshot, Scott was reminded of the five hundred-dollar-bounty that had been put on his brother's head by the bogus Sheriff Bede Cale over five months ago.
With the death of Cale at Los Almos, it had been easy for the family to think the danger was over for Johnny. However they all knew there were still wanted posters out there and there were still people who believed that there was money and even more importantly, a name to be made for being responsible for the death of Johnny Madrid.
As Scott's gaze once again drifted skyward, his eyelids blinking defensively at the mud-tinted rain that seeped through the mine's opening, he couldn't help wondering if somehow, someone had finally collected.
LRLRLRLRLR
Stumbling over slippery and uneven ground, Johnny came across the carcass of the dead mountain lion and another piece of his jumbled memory fell in to place. With increasing urgency, Johnny ignored everything around him as drove himself onward toward his goal.
LRLRLRLRLR
Murdoch closed the book that rested on his lap and tossed it on the settee beside him; not that he had been paying much attention to it anyway. Reaching for his watch, he opened the silver case to check the time, frowning, he closed it and placed the timepiece one more into his pocket. He had repeatedly executed the same action over the last hour.
There was no rhyme or reason for his concern; after all, it wasn't as if he sons were children, or that he didn't trust them to do their jobs. Far from it in fact, but with the onset of the storm he knew the mountain cat's tracks would be swept away with the rain, so he was more than a little surprised when in time, they still hadn't returned.
Getting to his feet, he felt a pull from his long-healed bullet wound as if it was reminding him of his weariness and age. "Maybe Johnny was right," he smiled to himself as he was reminded of the earlier conversation with his sons. "Maybe I am more Jessica's age than I thought."
Like most ranches of its kind, Lancer was battle-worn and hard won, so life on the ranch had also been an everyday battle for Murdoch. A fight to keep what he had, a challenge to survive the worst that Mother Nature or man's lack of humanity to man, could throw at him. Still, that was then. There was no longer a lone Murdoch Lancer that fought to survive this land, it was Murdoch Lancer with his sons by his side who now contested all that would threaten them.
Murdoch was suddenly struck as if for the first time, with the overpowering feeling of family that now filled the Lancer ranch after so many years of emptiness. As they were now, it would seem as if it had always been that way, when in fact it had been only a short year ago that his sons had returned to him. They had returned not out of love or respect for their father, nor were they concerned for the ranch itself. Each man had his own reasons; had to face his own demons to come home again. It had been a mixture of curiosity, retribution, and a pact; a pact that with their help would not only save the ranch, but reward them with an equal share in that ranch, that had compelled to come back. Yet, it didn't matter what had brought them home; all that mattered to Murdoch Lancer was that they 'were' home.
Life was not easy in those first few months; two brothers forged so different by the choices life made for them, yet unknown to them both, bonded by blood. The eldest Scott, blonde, tall, and slender, came with his mother's well-bred genteel traits. Educated and raised by his maternal Grandfathers' hand, he went to the finest schools, and so as he was taught, there was nothing more he needed. Fate, or the hand of God, would soon show him what he was missing.
The youngest Johnny, dark, brooding, with the handsome features that had made his mother so beautiful, also came outfitted with her fiery temper. With no easy life to guide him, he had fought hard, did what he had to do to survive, and along way made a name for himself as the menacing gunfighter, Johnny Madrid.
Two brothers, so different in their appearance, in their characters, yet, so alike in their courage and tenacity to fight for what is right. To fight for the ranch, for their 'adopted' sister Teresa, for Jelly...
'Even for me' A fleeting disconcerted gaze passed over Murdoch's face before being quickly replaced with a grateful smile as he continued to think of his sons. 'My sons' He thought proudly. 'Two brothers willing to face Hell for each other, no father could be prouder'
'No father could be more worried. Where the Hell were they?'
"They're not back yet?"
Brought out of his musings by Teresa's voice, Murdoch turned to face the pretty, auburn-haired girl who had become like a daughter to him over the years.
"Sorry?"
"Scott and Johnny, they're not back yet," she elaborated.
"No, not yet," he said as he attempted to cover his concern with a smile.
"You're worried about them." Teresa could see the truth of her statement in Murdoch's face.
"A little water won't hurt them. Anyway, I'm sure they're hold up somewhere out there, just waiting the storm out."
"Who you trying to convince?" Teresa asked, as she put aside her own concerns for the boys, and stepped into Murdoch's arms for a shared, reassuring hug.
"Hey, who's supposed to be comforting who here?" Murdoch smiled, his mood lifting slightly as he kissed the top of the young woman's head.
At the distance sound of a horse coming in, Teresa felt Murdoch relax under her embrace. 'Thank the lord'
"See! And you were worried." Relief was obvious on the father's face.
"Who was worried?" Teresa teased as she joined Murdoch in walking toward the front door.
Expecting one of the boys to open the front door, Murdoch was a little taken aback when a rain-soaked Jelly came-bursting in. "Boss, ya better come quick."
In two strides, Murdoch's long legs had carried him to the open doorway. There he could clearly see Johnny's horse Barranca tethered to the front rail. The horse was clearly distressed and even more obvious--with out its rider.
"Where's Johnny?" Murdoch knew just by looking at his son's horse that it was alone, but he had to ask. He had to be wrong.
"Don't know boss, but..."
"What is it Jelly?" Murdoch asked the older man.
"I was checking Johnny's horse, and..."
"Damn it, Jelly, spit it out." Murdoch snapped.
Jelly took a deep breath as he patted Barranca's snout, an action not only to calm the agitated horse, but also himself. "I found blood under the saddle."
TBC
Trying to ignore the pain that left him weak and gasping for air, Johnny once again labored to push himself to his knees, frantically trying to find purchase on the now wet and slippery earth as the rain continued to fall.
"Get up!" He demanded of his resisting body through clenched teeth, and for once his body, though painfully showing its disdain for the order it had been given; did what had been asked of it.
Searching through the curtain of rain, at the area around him, Johnny dug desperately through his still confused memory in attempt to pinpoint where exactly he'd left his brother and in what condition that had been. Some distance in front of him, his eyes came to rest on a rope lying discarded in the muddy ground. In an instant, the cord became the catalyst to clarifying the events that had led to this moment.
Sounds and images of the teasing-banter he and Scott had been participating in, flashed through his mind, before abruptly ending with his brother's disappearing into the ground.
"Scott!"
Gritting his teeth, Johnny unsuccessfully tried to rid himself of the tremors that wracked his injured and rain-drenched body as he stumbled toward the rope. Stooping to pick it up, Johnny's wounds cruelly rebelled against his actions, and he lurched forward close to falling, a wave of dizziness again threatening to impede his progress.
Refusing to concede to his body's persistent demands to give in, Johnny managed to once more drive back the encroaching darkness. Barely able to feel the touch the cord beneath his chilled fingers, Johnny grasped it firmly as he resolutely made his way back up the hill.
LRLRLRLRLR
How long had it been since he had heard the gut-wrenching scream and gunshot that had directly followed? Scott's only testament to the length of time passed, was the muddy water that had now risen to pool around his waist. While his own predicament seemed perilous enough, he couldn't help being more concerned with the unknown situation above ground.
Having had time to do nothing but think about the sound of gunshot, Scott was reminded of the five hundred-dollar-bounty that had been put on his brother's head by the bogus Sheriff Bede Cale over five months ago.
With the death of Cale at Los Almos, it had been easy for the family to think the danger was over for Johnny. However they all knew there were still wanted posters out there and there were still people who believed that there was money and even more importantly, a name to be made for being responsible for the death of Johnny Madrid.
As Scott's gaze once again drifted skyward, his eyelids blinking defensively at the mud-tinted rain that seeped through the mine's opening, he couldn't help wondering if somehow, someone had finally collected.
LRLRLRLRLR
Stumbling over slippery and uneven ground, Johnny came across the carcass of the dead mountain lion and another piece of his jumbled memory fell in to place. With increasing urgency, Johnny ignored everything around him as drove himself onward toward his goal.
LRLRLRLRLR
Murdoch closed the book that rested on his lap and tossed it on the settee beside him; not that he had been paying much attention to it anyway. Reaching for his watch, he opened the silver case to check the time, frowning, he closed it and placed the timepiece one more into his pocket. He had repeatedly executed the same action over the last hour.
There was no rhyme or reason for his concern; after all, it wasn't as if he sons were children, or that he didn't trust them to do their jobs. Far from it in fact, but with the onset of the storm he knew the mountain cat's tracks would be swept away with the rain, so he was more than a little surprised when in time, they still hadn't returned.
Getting to his feet, he felt a pull from his long-healed bullet wound as if it was reminding him of his weariness and age. "Maybe Johnny was right," he smiled to himself as he was reminded of the earlier conversation with his sons. "Maybe I am more Jessica's age than I thought."
Like most ranches of its kind, Lancer was battle-worn and hard won, so life on the ranch had also been an everyday battle for Murdoch. A fight to keep what he had, a challenge to survive the worst that Mother Nature or man's lack of humanity to man, could throw at him. Still, that was then. There was no longer a lone Murdoch Lancer that fought to survive this land, it was Murdoch Lancer with his sons by his side who now contested all that would threaten them.
Murdoch was suddenly struck as if for the first time, with the overpowering feeling of family that now filled the Lancer ranch after so many years of emptiness. As they were now, it would seem as if it had always been that way, when in fact it had been only a short year ago that his sons had returned to him. They had returned not out of love or respect for their father, nor were they concerned for the ranch itself. Each man had his own reasons; had to face his own demons to come home again. It had been a mixture of curiosity, retribution, and a pact; a pact that with their help would not only save the ranch, but reward them with an equal share in that ranch, that had compelled to come back. Yet, it didn't matter what had brought them home; all that mattered to Murdoch Lancer was that they 'were' home.
Life was not easy in those first few months; two brothers forged so different by the choices life made for them, yet unknown to them both, bonded by blood. The eldest Scott, blonde, tall, and slender, came with his mother's well-bred genteel traits. Educated and raised by his maternal Grandfathers' hand, he went to the finest schools, and so as he was taught, there was nothing more he needed. Fate, or the hand of God, would soon show him what he was missing.
The youngest Johnny, dark, brooding, with the handsome features that had made his mother so beautiful, also came outfitted with her fiery temper. With no easy life to guide him, he had fought hard, did what he had to do to survive, and along way made a name for himself as the menacing gunfighter, Johnny Madrid.
Two brothers, so different in their appearance, in their characters, yet, so alike in their courage and tenacity to fight for what is right. To fight for the ranch, for their 'adopted' sister Teresa, for Jelly...
'Even for me' A fleeting disconcerted gaze passed over Murdoch's face before being quickly replaced with a grateful smile as he continued to think of his sons. 'My sons' He thought proudly. 'Two brothers willing to face Hell for each other, no father could be prouder'
'No father could be more worried. Where the Hell were they?'
"They're not back yet?"
Brought out of his musings by Teresa's voice, Murdoch turned to face the pretty, auburn-haired girl who had become like a daughter to him over the years.
"Sorry?"
"Scott and Johnny, they're not back yet," she elaborated.
"No, not yet," he said as he attempted to cover his concern with a smile.
"You're worried about them." Teresa could see the truth of her statement in Murdoch's face.
"A little water won't hurt them. Anyway, I'm sure they're hold up somewhere out there, just waiting the storm out."
"Who you trying to convince?" Teresa asked, as she put aside her own concerns for the boys, and stepped into Murdoch's arms for a shared, reassuring hug.
"Hey, who's supposed to be comforting who here?" Murdoch smiled, his mood lifting slightly as he kissed the top of the young woman's head.
At the distance sound of a horse coming in, Teresa felt Murdoch relax under her embrace. 'Thank the lord'
"See! And you were worried." Relief was obvious on the father's face.
"Who was worried?" Teresa teased as she joined Murdoch in walking toward the front door.
Expecting one of the boys to open the front door, Murdoch was a little taken aback when a rain-soaked Jelly came-bursting in. "Boss, ya better come quick."
In two strides, Murdoch's long legs had carried him to the open doorway. There he could clearly see Johnny's horse Barranca tethered to the front rail. The horse was clearly distressed and even more obvious--with out its rider.
"Where's Johnny?" Murdoch knew just by looking at his son's horse that it was alone, but he had to ask. He had to be wrong.
"Don't know boss, but..."
"What is it Jelly?" Murdoch asked the older man.
"I was checking Johnny's horse, and..."
"Damn it, Jelly, spit it out." Murdoch snapped.
Jelly took a deep breath as he patted Barranca's snout, an action not only to calm the agitated horse, but also himself. "I found blood under the saddle."
TBC