Chapter Nine
Johnny ate the breakfast Maria set before him, knowing she would never let him go in peace if he didn't. Murdoch sat at the head of the table, silently eating his steak and eggs. He had barely raised his head to look at Johnny all morning. Worry and indecision had robbed him of his sleep and he had said so as he slid into his chair.
"I still don't like the idea of you traveling all the way to Boston. Even with Sam. You're not ready. Give yourself a few more days to heal."
Johnny shook his head. "Scott'll be back this afternoon. He's gonna ask questions, and I can't lie to him. He already knows something's wrong, and he's got this way of tripping you up on your own words."
"Then stay in town with Sam for a few days, at least until Harlan responds to the telegrams we've sent. Even if he ignores the messages from the Pinkertons, surely he'll answer ours."
"How many telegrams do you have to send before you get the message that he isn't gonna reply? No, the only way to get answers is to go there in person."
Johnny sipped at his coffee, remembering something that had come to mind as he fell asleep last night. "Why did you keep the Pinks on me and Scott even after we came here? I heard they ain't cheap."
"No they aren't. In fact, I went into debt at one time paying them to find you and your mother. But…" Murdoch looked at Johnny, realization dawning on his face. "My account with them is closed. It has been since they contacted Scott and found you in Mexico."
"Then why are they still interested in Scott? All that work, finding his name on the ship's log, talking to the man who said he saw him get on board. Someone's been footin' the bill."
Murdoch sat back in his chair, stunned. "It never occurred to me. Johnny, let me look into it before you go back east. We might find all the answers…"
Johnny shook his head. "You won't get the truth from here. Someone is working real hard to make Scott look like an imposter."
"And if he is? Are you prepared to accept the truth if it isn't what you want to find?"
"I know Scott is my brother. I made a living reading people. Scott hasn't beenlying to me, or you. I'd stake my life on it."
"Just be careful, Son."
Johnny grinned. "I got Sam with me. He's as big a mother hen as you are. What can go wrong?"
"Oh, John…I wish you had never asked that question."
Scott heard the sound of cattle bellowing as they rode up the slight rise. His heart plummeted at the sight of a dozen or more cows huddled together in the center of a large bog. It would take the rest of the day to free them from the thick mud and, by the time they were done, it would be too late and too dangerous to try to make it home. He faced another night out on the trail, another night of not knowing if Johnny was still improving or what was behind Murdoch's strange behavior.
Tomorrow he would sit down with both of them and get to the bottom of this. He was tired of feeling like an outsider. He had worked hard to learn how to work on a ranch. He had persevered through tired muscles and blisters on his hands and feet. He had learned to rope and brand and ride a cutting horse. There was still so much more to learn, but until just a couple weeks ago, he thought he had plenty of time. Now, he wasn't so sure.
Could he live under Murdoch's critical eye? He could go back to Boston and reclaim his life there. He would be the talk of the town, the slightly dangerous man from the Wild West that would attract any woman's fancy.
But that was not what he wanted. He wanted things to be as they had been. The past two months had been the happiest ones since they first came together. Murdoch and Johnny had found a common ground and the three of them worked the ranch as partners. What had happened? What role did Arthur play in all this?
Questions, more questions and… no answers. But tomorrow he would demand an answer.
The sound of a frightened cow, trying to find purchase in the slimy mud, drew his attention, and he followed Cipriano down to the edge of the bog.
Johnny said very little on the trip into town. There was nothing more Murdoch could say to change his mind. He had pulled his hat low over his eyes after they passed beneath the Lancer arch and remained quiet. If truth be told, he was hurting much more than he had expected. He would never admit it to anyone, but he was glad Sam was traveling with him.
Sam Jenkins was rocking in the comfortable chair outside his office, his two large valises sitting beside him, with his medicalbag propped on top.
"It's about time you got here. I was beginning to think you had changed your mind."
Johnny grinned and eased himself down off the wagon. "You would a thought I was gonna be gone for a year the way Teresa and Maria were acting."
Sam chuckled. "I can imagine."
Johnny felt the rumble before he saw the stage make the last turn down the center of town. He knew the hardest part of the trip would be from here to Sacramento.
Murdoch climbed down from the wagon looking suspiciously at Sam's luggage. "How long do you plan to be gone?"
Johnny saw the twinkle in Sam's eyes and fought hard not to bust out laughing.
"I travel with more than just a couple of saddle bags." He nodded toward Johnny's small traveling bag. "And more than one change of clothes."
"I got all I need, Sam," Johnny grinned as he climbed down off the wagon and headed for Sam's valises.
Murdoch quickly stepped in front of him. "I'll get those. No heavy lifting, remember?"
"How could I forget?" Johnny asked, not altogether happy with the situation, but silently thankful that his father had stopped him from doing something foolish…again. It was just hard having others do for him.
Murdoch lumbered across the street to the stage carrying the heavier of the two valises. To Johnny's surprise Val was suddenly walking beside him, carrying the other valise, a silly grin on his face.
"I didn't believe it when I heard you was traveling with Sam. Not that Sam ain't good company. But Chicago? You think more than that arm of yours got busted…maybe your head too?"
Johnny hated lying, but he couldn't take the chance that word would get back to Scott that they were headed for Boston.
"My head is fine. Nothing I can do at the ranch right now. So…"
"But you going to Chicago. That'd be like Scott going to Mexico. Don't make no sense."
"Sheriff," Murdoch's voice boomed. "If you want Johnny to stay at Lancer, then you can come out and ride shotgun over him. No heavy lifting, no riding., no…"
"I get the point," Val grinned. "Chicago sounds like just the right place for Johnny."
"Thanks Val." Johnny glared toward his old friend, but his eyes flashed with mischief. "I thought at least you would be on my side. Instead of going off to Chicago with Sam I could bunk in with you. Keep out of trouble…"
"And in my hair all the time." Val opened the stagecoach door. "Get in before I throw ya in."
"I'm glad you agree." Murdoch stood back as Val and the stagecoach driver manhandled the heavy luggage onto the top of the stage.
"I hope ya got someone to take these here bags for ya at the train station." Val grunted as the last bag was secured in place.
"The porter will see to them," Sam assured him. "And make sure they get on the connecting trains. They do it all the time."
Two passengers climbed into the stagecoach and Murdoch held out his hand to Johnny. "Have a safe trip, Son. Send me a telegram when you reach Chicago."
"I will." Johnny leaned in close so no one else could hear his words. "Treat Scott right. He's your son, I know he is. Don't say something you can't ever take back."
Murdoch nodded. "I won't say a word."
Johnny nodded then climbed awkwardly into the coach. He was in for a long trip - one he hoped would give him the answers he wanted to hear.
The stagecoach ride had been as rough as Johnny feared and now, as they stood on the train platform ready to board the huge belching monster that would take them to Boston, he wondered if this was such a good idea after all.
But it was the only way to get to the bottom of the mystery surrounding Scott. And he would travel to the ends of the earth to prove that Scott was his brother.
"All aboard!" the conductor called and Johnny gave Sam a tentative look.
"I upgraded our tickets to a sleeping berth."Sam smiled. "It will make traveling a lot easier. This old body isn't up to sitting in a hard seat for the next six days."
Johnny knew Sam was doing this for him and he felt a sudden sense of pride that he had found such a good friend. Not something he had a long list of in his past.
The porter escorted them to the sleeping car where two lines of bunks awaited the passengers. Two tiered, each bunk had a curtain for privacy. Johnny couldn't help but cringe at the thought of sleeping in the elongated boxes. With his arm in the ponderous cast and his face glistening with sweat, he watched as the porter pulled a curtain open to a bottom berth. Turning to Sam, the porter suggested with a warm smile that the older man take the bottom berth right across from Johnny.
"When you reach Ogden in the morning you'll find the Union Pacific more comfortable. They have Pullman cars."
"Thank you." Sam smiled and palmed a coin into the porter's hand. "I suspect my friend here will sleep through most of the night. I just need a glass of water for his medication."
"Of course, Sir."
Johnny raised an annoyed eyebrow at Sam but sank down onto the bottom bunk, his head hitting the underside of the top berth. He cursed up a blue streak in Spanish, not caring if anyone heard or understood him. He was too tired and too sore to care. The stagecoach ride had been hot and stuffy after they picked up four more passengers along the way. His arm and ribs were throbbing from the rough ride. Again he thought that he should have listened to Murdoch.
"Here, take this," he heard Sam direct and a glass appeared in his hand. "It will help you sleep. And not a word about you not liking to take medicine. You are in no condition to take this trip in the first place. So, if you want to continue on you'll do as I say."
Johnny reluctantly downed the glass of medicated water. He couldn't think of very many people who would dare talk to him like that, or get away with it.
"You'll be sound asleep before you know it. Now, let's get that jacket and those boots off."
Struggling to find a comfortable spot in the confined area, Johnny finally settled into a semi- tolerable position. He drew back the small curtain covering an even smaller window to see the train station slowly fall behind as the train shuddered and began to build up speed, amid a cloud of belching black smoke and the shrill call of the whistle.
What was he doing here? Would he really find the answers he needed to prove to his father what he knew without question: that Scott was his brother?
He felt his eyes grow heavy as the combination of the sleeping powder and the click clack of the iron wheels on the tracks lulled him toward sleep. He felt Sam cover him with a blanket and the curtain close as his last thoughts were of Scott and Murdoch. He should be there, running interference like Scott had so often done when he was butting heads with their old man. But he also needed to be here. Needed…he drifted off into a deep sleep.
Scott ached from head to toe as he stretched out on the hard packed ground. It had taken twice as long as expected to get the cows out of the bog, and by the time they were done, both men and horses were exhausted. The only thing they could think of was a warm fire and a dry piece of land to set their bedrolls on. But as the morning mist made way for the warming sun, Scott stood up slowly and inhaled the clean soft air. Boston with its factories and row upon row of houses, all with fireplaces, filled the city with an ever present layerof smoke. Out here the air was clean and fresh. He couldn't think of anything that would send him back to Boston. He had everything he could want or need right here. Except for the way Murdoch had been acting of late. But that was going to stop as soon as he got home. He was determined to get to the bottom of the problem. He would get both Murdoch and Johnny together and demand to know what was going on. He knew Johnny would back him. His brother had been in this position all too often. How had he stood it for so long?
Breakfast was hot and nourishing, and bested some of the lavish displays that greeted him in the morning in Boston. Who would have thought bacon frying in a cast iron skillet over a campfire would taste so good? He drank a second cup of strong coffee before packing up the supplies and heading off toward home.
Scott was both comforted and dismayed as they passed beneath the Lancer arch. His enthusiasm for the coming confrontation with Murdoch had weakened as they got closer to the house. It had to be done, but now he wasn't so sure he really wanted to know the answer.
He gave Cipriano the reins and headed for the front door.
Inside the house was quiet - overly quiet. He walked into the great room surprised and concerned when he didn't see Johnny or Murdoch. Had Johnny taken a turn for the worse? He made his way into the kitchen to find it empty as well. The little niggle of worry was blossoming. Something was wrong, he could feel it.
He hurried up the stairs to Johnny's room, alarmed to see the bed made and no evidence of Johnny having been in there for some time. He marched down the hall to his father's room and swung the door open without knocking. It too was empty.
Making his way back down the stairs he heard the back door close in the kitchen and quickly walked back through the great room into the kitchen. Maria stood by the stove, beginning the preparations for dinner.
"Where is everyone?" he demanded.
Maria turned around, startled by Scott's sudden appearance.
"Senor Scott, do not sneak up on someone like that," she scolded him, holding a substantial wooden spoon in her hand.
"Sorry, but no one is here. Where did theygo? Where's Johnny? Is he all right?"
"He is fine. Your hermano is taking a trip with Senor Sam. It is the only way to keep him out of trouble."
"A trip? Where?"
"To Shee ca," Maria struggled with the name. "It is many days away by train."
"Chicago?" Scott asked in disbelief. "Johnny went to Chicago with Sam?"
"Si. It was a way to keep Juanito out of trouble. He was already wanting to ride that horse of his."
Scott could not help but feel a twinge of anger. He was expecting Johnny to be here, to help him with Murdoch. It seemed so out of character for Johnny to agree to travel with Sam. A stagecoach ride, maybe. But a train? Johnny had never ridden a train for more than half a day and even that nearly drove him crazy. He was looking at four days getting from here to Chicago. Every which way Scott turned his world seemed to be hurtling toward chaos.
"El Patron says for you to rest today and he will be home for dinner."
Great, he thought. Dinner should be a lively event. Turning to leave, Maria called. "Lunch will be ready in an hour."
For some reason, he thought sardonically, he had suddenly lost his appetite.