Epilogue
Val Crawford walked across the street with a purposeful step, his deputy on his heels. He hated getting highfaluting letters from back east, taking ten words to say what he could say in one…but this time he didn't mind. This time he would gladly carry out their request. He opened the door to Arthur Bell's office, and smiled at Agnes Stine. "Mr. Bell in his office?" he asked, knowing he was. He had waited until he saw the lawyer enter the building before heading over.
Agnes gave him an innocuous smile"Yes, but he's busy at the moment, Sheriff. Would you like to leave a message?"
"No, that's not what I'd like ta do." He walked past Agnes' desk, seeing her face blanch as she looked from him to Deputy Brice, who was standing with arms folded across his chest, barring the door. Val opened the doorto Arthur's private office and stepped in, unannounced.He wasn't looking forward to telling Bell about Miss Stine but he was going to enjoy - what was the word on that letter from the District Attorney from Boston? Extraditing, yes, he was gonna enjoy seeing her pay for what she had done to the Lancers. And since she needed someone to make sure she got there…Well, he'd always wanted to see them tall ships Scott talked about in the Boston Harbor.
Scott didn't know how he'd let himself be talked into this. Johnny had been so exuberant about the excursion that he hadn't had the heart to tell his brother no. In so many ways, Johnny was still a kid at heart, at last allowing himself to have the fun he was deprived of when he was a child. When they reached the docks, a steam launch was rocking in the waves against the pier. A huge man, with arms the size of tree trunks standing at the helm, nodded to Johnny. To Scott's surprise, Johnny insisted they all get in, though Johnny himself hesitated for just a moment. Murdoch's old sea legs came right back to him, but Scott swore Johnny turned a little green as he awkwardly settled himself on one of the bench seats, the cumbersome cast on his left arm dragging him off balance. Sam had promised, before he had left for home, that the cast would come off in another month if he behaved himself. For Johnny, that was a lot to ask. His own smaller cast, from hand to elbow was not as unwieldy as Johnny's but it was still a nuisance.
The coal burning boat started moving through the water. Everything seemed vaguely familiar to Scott; a long forgotten dream just out of his reach.
He studied Murdoch, facing him on one of the bench seats. His face was still too pale, but his eyes twinkled as the wind whipped at his hair and the harbor water speckled his clothes. Then he looked at Johnny sitting next to him. His brother hated the water. But for some reason he was willing to take this wind tossed ride across Boston Harbor
Scott watched the mainland grow farther away as the boat powered slowly through the churning water. It was almost comical watching Johnny's eyes shift suspiciously from the smokestack with its thin trail of smoke to the helmsman who stood rock steady in the boat. Then he heard it…above the sound of the engine, above the creak of the boat, above the waves splashing against the sides…he looked over his shoulder and caught his breath. He saw the wind driven waves pounding the cliffs of Little Brewster Island. The boat started to veer toward it. Scott suddenly grinned with realization. The lighthouse Johnny had stayed at after Heddy's murder. He had mentioned Thomas and Edward. Scott couldn't believe it. He was just a boy when he came here. He hadn't put two and two together. He looked back at Johnny, a smug smile on his brother's face. "Was this the Lady you were talking about?"
Johnny grinned. "Thought you'd like to meet her again."
It was like taking a step back in time,though his heart beat a little faster as they transferred to a metal gondola, large enough to hold all three men, and swayed in the growing wind as they were hosted up the side of the cliff. Johnny was mumbling something in Spanish. Scott didn't have to understand the words to know what his brother was saying. As the basket crested the top of the cliff Scott saw Thomas and Edward turning the winch, their clothes buffeting in the stiff wind.
Memories of the days he had spent here, tending to the lighthouse, all came tumbling back and he wished he could go back to being a kid again, his only worry then had been that his grandfather would find out and order him never to return. Weatherly had been the only one to understand the needs of a young boy, the adventure he craved. In the harsh light of adulthood, the old servant had disappointed him, but he could not turn his back on Weatherly and once he served his six months, he would again be installed in the Garrett household. Though this time in the general staff.
Scott could hardly wait for the gondola to settle onto the rocky island before jumping out and shaking hands fondly with Thomas and Edward.
"It's good to see you, Lad." Thomas pulled him into a hug that nearly crushed Scott's spine. "When Johnny told us that you were his brother, we couldn't a been happier. You always said you wanted…" Thomas winked at Johnny, "a little brother."
Johnny's smirk told Scott everything he had to know about the friendship these three men had developed.
Scott rushed back to steady Murdoch as he climbed out of the gondola. He was still pale and tired easily, but he was getting back to the old Murdoch.
"Thomas, Edward, this is my father, Murdoch Lancer." Scott felt a tingle of pride as he introduced the huge man to his old friends. Pride…the emotion grounded him, made him feel like his world was slowly coming together again. But there was still more to do, more to say.
"Good to meet you, Sir. We were expecting you. I hope you can eat as much as your two sons, because we have enough to feed an army."
Murdoch laughed. "Nothing like good old sea air to get a man's appetite going."
Scott saw Thomas had suddenly noticed Johnny's attire. Gone was the Boston suit, replaced by his favored pink, embroidered shirt and leather concho pants. "Meet the real Johnny Lancer," Scott said. The only concession Johnny had made to the eastern lifestyle was his gunbelt. It sat in a drawer back at the mansion.
Scott saw the recognition in Thomas's eyes as he took in Johnny's clothes, his hat hanging down his back by the stampede strings.
"You're not…" Thomas stuttered.
Johnny's grin was priceless. "Used to be."
Scott threaded his good arm through Thomas's elbow and tapped Edward lightly in the arm with his cast. "It's a long story, bigger than any of those sea yarns you told me as a kid, but all true." And they headed toward The Lady, with Johnny and Murdoch following.
Scott sat back enjoying a glass of fine sipping whiskey, as Murdoch called it, and took in friends and family sitting around the table.
"It's a miracle you all made it out alive," Thomas said, as silence filled the room at the end of Scott's account. Scott knew both Johnny and Murdoch had their own experiences, some he was sure they would eventually share, some too private to ever pass their lips.
"I hope the judge gave Moore what he deserved." Edward broke the silence. "I've heard of men getting off with a slap on the wrists with a good enough lawyer working for him."
"The jury found him guilty," Johnny said darkly.
Scott nodded. "And the judge gave him the death penalty. Miss Stine was sentenced to five years. Doesn't make up for all the harm they did. But Moore is paying the ultimate price."
He set his glass down on the table and looked over at Murdoch. His father was looking at him, his eyes filled with so many emotions that Scott could hardly breathe. They still had so much to talk about. They had treaded so carefully around the most painful questions while both Johnny and Murdoch were recuperating.
"Murdoch, would you like to take a walk?" he asked, and saw the look of surprise and relief on his father's face.
Johnny nodded. He had been the one who told Scott that father and son had to have a talk, get past the damage that was done.
Walking out into the brisk wind, Scott pulled his jacket tighter around himself. Murdoch turned his face into the wind, closing his eyes as it whipped his hair around. Scott led him around to the far side of the lighthouse where the wind was not quite as strong.
"As always, Johnny sees more than we give him credit for," Murdoch said. "I'm sure this little trip was not just to look up old friends."
Scott nodded. "Too many ghosts back at Grandfather's house…and he…my brother, the one who lived most of his life without family, told me that we couldn't take this back with us to Lancer."
"He is too young to be so old."
Silence settled in between them. Then Murdoch asked hopefully. "Does that mean you are coming home? Back to Lancer"
"It's not that easy."
"The hell it's not!" Murdoch blurted out. "What do I have to do to make you understand how sorry I am for the things I did? For the things I said. For the things I didn't say?"
Scott asked softly, "When are you going to start forgiving yourself?"
Murdoch looked startled. "What?"
"I said, when are you going to start forgiving yourself? I've had enough time and information to know that you were put in an unenviable position. My grandfather was a mastermind when it came to manipulating people. He had everyone believing that I had gone to Europe. Moore and Latchford learned from the best. They fed you only what they wanted you to know. You fell right into their trap. You can't blame yourself for that."
"Yes, I can. I should have faced you. Asked you..."
"Yes," Scott admitted. "You should have. But that's in the past. And we all made mistakes. I should have stayed at Lancer and fought for my right to be there. Johnny shouldn't have gone off playing detective. To Boston of all places. We don't always make the right decisions when we're thinking with our hearts instead of our heads. But that is behind us…if you'll let it go."
Murdoch looked back at the water as if the churning waves were akin to the blood churning in his veins. "It's not that easy," he said.
"I never said it was going to be easy. There are plenty of hurt feelings, a lot of guilt that we all have to work through. But we can't start to heal until we are willing to take a risk."
Scott held his breath. This moment was crucial. He had already talked to Johnny. For once, it was not Johnny who was fighting the demons of guilt and regret. He hadcome to terms with what had happened. It was now up to this man standing beside him, a man he had come to love, to take that next step.
"I don't know if I have the right. A father doesn't turn his back on his son. He doesn't…"
"Instead he throws himself in front of his son to stop a bullet. You were willing to die for me. What more can I ask of a father?"
"You can ask that he always be there for you, no matter what. That he believes his heart and not the lies on a piece of paper." Scott knew Murdoch wasn't speaking just about him. His father had nearly lost Johnny for the same reason.
"You made a mistake, Murdoch. We all make mistakes. How many mistakes did you make when you were building the ranch?"
Murdoch shook his head.
"Quite a few, I would imagine. Did that stop you? Even when you made the same mistake again - did you turn away? No, you kept fighting. Johnny and I aren't going to give up. Are you?"
Scott saw Murdoch's lips tremble. "Will you come back to Lancer?" he asked again.
Scott had thought about it,had thought about almost nothing else since Johnny and Murdoch were out of danger. He had so many responsibilities here in Boston. He had Garrett Enterprises, the house with its staff. He couldn't turn his back on them. They deserved more than that. But he knew he would never be happy here. Lancer was his home.
He nodded. "In time. When I have fulfilled my obligations. I can't just walk away. Grandfather hurt too many people."
"But you will come home."
Scott smiled. "Yes. I'll come home. After I've sold the house and seen that the staff is taken care of properly. Besides, I can't leave you and Johnny with all the fun, now can I?
"And the work."
"Yes, that too."
Murdoch stood taller than he had in a long time. Scott couldn't take his eyes off his father's expressive face. Murdoch took a deep breath and Scott held his. "I love you, Son."
Scott could only nod.
Murdoch smiled. "Maybe we should tell your brother we haven't thrown each other over the cliffs."
Scott felt Murdoch's strong arm wrap around his shoulders. It felt good. It felt right.
Johnny didn't have to be told. He stood at the front door, his right shoulder leaning against the doorframe. He saw Scott and Murdoch walking his way and he knew they were a family again. It would be hard leaving here without Scott, but they had talked, and he felt pride in the decision his brother had made. And he would write once a week reminding Scott of what he was missing.
He let out a long breath. Harlan Garrett had nearly destroyed his family. Latchford and Moore had come perilously close to finishing the job. But in the end…In the end, it was the strength of the Lancers who won. Three thousand miles away from home, the Lancers were still a force to be reckoned with.
Linda 2008