Trees, ranch-hands, cattle, fences he'd spent hours mending, the tall grass bending as the wind caught it - they all passed by in a blur as the paint thundered along the hard packed dirt.

His eyes saw them and his brain told him they were there but inside his head all he saw were sheep and blisters and cutting and hacking and fool hats made out of wool. Just thinking about that dumb hat the boys had made for him made him hot with embarrassment all over again - just as raw as it had been that day in town. The whole damned town had been laughing at him – even his old outfit. It must have been an even bigger joke when news got out that Johnny Madrid's girl had left him for the sheep herder.

'Best ramrod ever,' they'd called him. Made a point of looking him up every time they came to town. He'd never been comfortable with all that 'legend' stuff. He'd laughed it off, even told them to shut up, but for a kid who grew up dirt poor and spat on, there was no denying that kind of talk was still a healer, even after all this time when he thought the need for it was long gone. Just goes to show ….

No, being laughed at didn't sit easy with him. Not at all. Nobody laughed at Johnny Madrid.

Dammit all, where the hell was he digging up all this stuff from? How long had it been since he'd thought of himself as Madrid? Was that what it was all about – just his pride? That Lucy went and bedded another man – a man she'd known only a couple of days – when he'd been courting her proper? That maybe Johnny Madrid would never be respectable enough, never good enough? That maybe he couldn't ever turn his back on the things he'd done? Was it some kind of punishment for all the killing and fighting and anger that had eaten at him all those years?

'She might be your girl but she isn't your woman.'

Maldiciones. His jaw was aching from being clamped shut so hard.

Right about then his brain started yelling at him and he finally took note of the heaving breaths of the paint just as the horse stumbled, and then he was cursing his own stupidity and selfishness and easing back on the reins to bring the lathered animal to a slow walk.

The paint let out a long sigh and dropped its head – and so did Johnny, feeling as spent as the animal.

When he finally lifted his head, the first thing he saw was the wooden sign on the side of the road.

'Green River 4 miles.'

He wasn't sure how he ended up here but it'd do just fine. A couple of shots of Tequila and a table somewhere in a dark corner by himself was about the only place he wanted to be right now, other than on the back of a horse.

He put a hand to the paint's neck and gave it a firm pat as they rode into town. "You did good. We just hafta take you somewhere quiet where you won't get all fussed about hitching rails and wagons an' buggies."

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

"Look after him for me, will yah Joe," Johnny called to a broad-shouldered, red haired man in a leather apron. He tossed him a coin, as soon as Joe looked up from a sturdy bay he was brushing down in the main area of the livery.

Joe caught it with a grin. "Sure thing, Johnny. You ain't plannin' on foolin' with any bulls today, huh?"

Well, that was Joe – smart with animals, not so good with people.

It took some doing but Johnny managed to keep his smile mostly on his face.

"Nope, not today, Joe."

"Sure was something' to see you takin' on that bull."

"Yeah, I'll just add it to the list of other fool things I've done, huh?"

Maybe Johnny hadn't hidden his feelings as much as he thought he had, because next he heard Joe say real softly, "Sorry, Johnny. People tell me I got as much tact as that bull had."

Johnny snorted, not sure he had the energy to deal with someone else's woes when he felt like crap himself. "Sounds like a lotta bull to me," he got out, mustering up another smile from somewhere. Not a great line but it'd have to do.

Well, old Joe seemed pleased. Johnny could still hear him guffawing even when he'd walked out the livery door into the sun and started ambling along the sidewalk.

It was late afternoon; the spring sun was still trying out its new strength and it hadn't given up for the day by any means.

Green River was quiet and kind of sleepy right now but it wouldn't be long before all hell broke loose when the cowhands came to town. 'Saturday night.' Johnny grimaced. That's what had been the start of all this mess.

It was usually a bit quieter this end of town, away from the saloons and the jail…well, mostly. The women folk liked to shop and chat in the street while their kids fooled around and made pictures in the dirt. Maybe he should drop in on Val on his way to the saloon? No. He doubted he was fit company for anyone just now – least of all Val and those beady eyes of his.

"Johnny!"

For an instant, his breath caught in his throat. Madre de Dios - Lucy.

"Johnny?"

He took another step forward and then she was gone – just like that.

Johnny stood stock still. It had just been a trick of the sunlight, catching Amanda behind her head as she closed the door of the shop – Lucy's shop. Besides, Amanda's hair was almost brown and Lucy would never wear that colour dress and her voice wasn't quite the same but hell, for a minute there…

Unexpectedly, he felt a touch on his left cheek. He winced and drew his head back a little, surprised at the pain, but it served to bring him back faster to the here and now.

He saw a pair of wide brown eyes staring up at him. Damn, he wished people would stop looking at him like that.

"That's gotta hurt," she told him, running her eyes over him with that quick appraisal that women do, thinking they can tell your whole life story with a glance. "You been breaking horses again?" she wondered aloud.

In spite of himself, Johnny's grin broke out at the irony of her conclusion. Tipping his hat, he said, "I guess that's what you'd call it, ma'am."

"Maybe they should call it 'breaking cowboys' instead," she laughed, but it lost its sparkle half way through and ended up sounding forced. That first moment of ease had somehow slipped away and he knew she was thinking back, just like he was, to all the times he'd stood at this door and talked to Lucy, stolen a kiss, snuck an arm about her waist…

Unconsciously, he started to frown off into the distance.

"You'd better let me put something on that graze for you."

Johnny brought his eyes back to her face. Freckles - funny, he'd never noticed them on her before - tiny ones scattered across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Teresa said once that Lucy's skin was white and smooth like some sort of special china…

"Johnny." She was more insistent this time.

"No, it's fine," he told her, putting a hand up to gingerly poke at the spot she'd touched. He was going to have a decent bruise there by the feel of it, but at least his hand came away dry. "Nothin' there – you see," he assured her, holding out his hand.

"Blood's already dried," she told him, taking out the key she'd just placed in her small, black drawstring bag and then putting it into the lock.

Johnny didn't move but his whole body almost locked up on him when he saw what she'd planned. "No ma'am," he ground out, his voice suddenly deadly serious.

Amanda bit down on her lip, her hand still on the knob. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking," she blurted out.

He'd come to recognise sorrow – it had stared back at him every morning for the past two weeks. All the fire damped down in his body and he took his hat off and stared at the ground.

"You must be missin' her too, huh?" he asked gently, adding as he looked up, "You both bein' school friends an' all. She told me lotsa times she couldn't have run the store without your help."

She nodded, looking miserable, and he hoped she wasn't going to start bawling. Not now, not out here with the cowhands about to ride into town any minute and, mierda, that sun was sure hot beating down on his head.

"She was my best friend."

"Yes'm." He changed feet and threw a look in the saloon's direction.

"Her folks are selling the store, did you know? Johnny?"

"Yeah, they told me," he nodded, rubbing the back of his hand across his forehead. "Say, don't you have a wedding comin' up?"

There it was, that sad look again that seemed to hang about her eyes like unshed tears. "Drew and I put it off for a few weeks. I just couldn't…not with everything that's happened. It's set for next month instead."

Johnny swallowed something down that was catching in his throat. "Lucy woulda wanted it to go ahead. Look, I gotta get goin'," he mumbled, as he dropped his hat back on his head.

"You take care, now, won't you Johnny?"

"Oh, I always take care," he smiled glibly, catching hold of one of her hands for a moment. "I'll be seein' yah."

He turned around to head towards the saloon but he hesitated on his first step when the sidewalk started to move like a wave coming into the shore. Johnny looked away, opening his eyes wide then rubbing at them with his knuckles. When he looked again it was like seeing everything through a heat haze, even Amanda. This sure wasn't good.

Before he could say a word, two small hands had grabbed hold of his arm and then pulled him through the doorway.

"You'd better sit down before you fall down," Amanda told him forthrightly. "That must've been some spill you took. You've gone awful pale, Johnny."

He let her drag him into the store, aware that half of him wanted it and the other half was telling him this was a real bad idea and then from out of nowhere, his legs began to buckle. He could feel himself going down and he broke out in a sweat as his breakfast started to make signals about showing itself again right there on the shop floor.

Amanda was quick. She pushed him onto a wooden chair, even managing to grab his hat as it started to fall from his head when he doubled over, trying to get his head as close to the floor as he could to make the dizziness go away.

Darn. Johnny bit back a groan. He couldn't throw up in the shop…and definitely not in front of Lucy's friend. Just the thought of it made him sweat even more.

Still, part of him knew it could be worse; if he was feeling really bad he'd be past caring who was witness to him being sick.

Funny, if it had been Lucy and not Amanda he wouldn't have cared as much. The one time she'd seen him sick was the first time he hadn't minded someone knowing - hadn't felt that need to hide it. He'd even felt comfortable with her fussing over him and putting a hand to his head, tsking like a schoolmarm when she felt the heat and telling him he should be in bed. 'Course, he'd told her he'd go to bed if she'd join him. Just teasing…not really meaning it…well, no, actually, he really did mean it…every word.

She didn't even blush; just laughed - right in this room - as if it was bound to happen one day. Maybe even soon. Heck, he'd nearly pulled the blind down and taken her in his arms right then, knowing she wouldn't resist if he made the move to make her fully his. Nearly - but he just couldn't do it. Not to the girl he one day hoped to…

"You think you can drink this?"

Johnny squinted up to see Amanda holding out a glass of water. The rush of heat that had swamped him was beginning to fade and his breakfast seemed to have decided to stay right where it was, but he shook his head to be on the safe side.

"Gimme a minute, huh?"

He lifted his head enough to put his face in his hands with his elbows on his knees, murmuring, "Sorry 'bout this."

From behind his hands he heard the swish of her skirts and the click of her heels on the wooden floor. "I've got four brothers," she called to him as she headed out back, as if that explained everything. He heard the rings slide along the bar as she pulled the curtain to the workroom aside and then she left him alone in the silence with just the muted sound of a wagon rumbling along the main street outside.

Roses…and that other clean, starchy kind of smell of new cloth.

Without really wanting to, he took his head out of his hands and looked around, taking in the familiar sights: the comfy chair by the counter, the bolts of 'fabric,' as she called them, stacked neatly on the shelves, the fancy bonnets on their stands looking stupid without a head and a face to make sense of them. All just like it was the last time he was in here but not the same. Not now. Not ever.

"Feeling a bit better? You've got some colour back in your face."

Pushing his hair back from his eyes he reached for his hat where she'd left it on a small round table nearby. He had to get out of here - right now.

"Yep, I feel real good. I'd better get going," he lied, watching as she put a blue painted wooden tray with a small china bowl and a white mug down on the counter.

"Not yet," she said quickly. "You don't look nearly well enough. I was thinkin' I should call Doc Jenkins over."

Johnny shook his head and cautiously got to his feet. "No need for that, 'manda. I'll be just fine."

"Oh, but you're not. You're so clearly not fine and Lucy would never forgive me if I…"

Johnny cut her off quickly, doing his best to damp down that damned anger that was firing up inside him again, just like it had this morning with Jelly.

"Well you got that all wrong," he told her bluntly but more and more started spilling out before he could stop it. "Didn't she tell you all about her and Gabe?" he asked scathingly. He could just see the two of them with their heads together, talking about him, laughing at what a fool he'd been for trusting.

Amanda shook her head, staring at him with wide eyes.

Gabe's words came back to him and so did that rush of fury that swamped him when he understood Gabe's meaning.

"Lucy was only ever my girl…but she was Gabe's woman."

Amanda looked at him blankly but his mouth wouldn't stay shut and hell, he wanted to hurt someone real bad right now.

"Didn't she tell you that she stayed out there with him?" he ground out. "That all the while I was trusting them she was in his arms and…"

Amanda put a hand to her cheek, her lips framing a silent, 'Oh.'

Maybe it was the look of shock on her face or the tears that filled her eyes or that look so like the one he'd seen in Murdoch's eyes just this morning but he managed to clamp his jaw down tight and step back away from her.

Angry with himself now, he whacked his hat against his thigh then turned and headed to the door. Dios, where did all this come from?

Disgusted with himself, Johnny stopped when he got to the door. Dropping his head he drew in a deep breath, clutching his hat in his hands. "Sorry," he muttered to the floor, wondering what the heck he was doing. He stood there silently, waiting for her to yell at him or kick him or tell him she never wanted to see him again – maybe all three. He'd had that happen a few times.

"Johnny. Come and sit down. Don't go yet."

Then she was standing close to him, her touch gentle on his cheek. "I got some water to bathe that for you. At least let me take the sting out of it and wash off the blood."

He stood there a few moments longer – until at last he looked to see her staring up at him, brown eyes brimming with tears and the guilt washed over him all over again. "Mandy, I had no right…"

"Hush. Just sit yourself down. You don't have to talk," she told him as she tugged at his arm a little until he was back on the chair again. "I made you coffee, even though you'd probably like something a mite stronger right now." She smiled tentatively, offering him the mug filled almost to the brim with the rich dark, liquid.

Johnny hesitated, then reached out and took it without a word. He didn't trust himself.

It looked as if she was going to stand there and watch him drink, like Murdoch sometimes did when he had to take medicine, but she turned away and he took a big gulp.

It was burning hot, scalding his mouth and throat as it went down and he figured that served him right.

Amanda came back with a wet hand towel. "This might hurt a bit," she warned, as she started to dab.

"No more'n what I deserve, ma'am," he confessed, throwing a swift look up at her.

Her hand paused a moment. "What you didn't deserve, was what happened," she said softly, before resuming her dabbing.

"Nope…nooo…." he drawled uneasily, not wanting to get into all that again.

She must have taken the hint because she stayed silent, except a quick "sorry" when she made him wince. "This is going to be a mighty fine bruise," she murmured as the wet towel came away brown and bloody.

He didn't bother to tell her about the other ones he was starting to feel. He was darn lucky that he didn't have something broke.

"I 'spect you've got a few more under your shirt," she added mildly as she walked across to the counter to wring out the towel again.

He wasn't sure where the smile came from but it found its way onto his face. "Yeah, just a few, maybe."

"Brothers…remember?"

Johnny nodded. "Four of 'em," he parroted soberly, reciting his lesson.

"You're a hero to our Davy. The littlest one," Amanda told him as she gently pressed the towel to the worst part of the graze. "He's always runnin' around, playin' at being Johnny Madrid." She laughed but he managed to snuff that out in two seconds flat as soon as she looked at him. "I'm sorry, Johnny. I know you've given all that up but the kids don't forget. You know what boys are like."

Johnny shifted uncomfortably. "No, 'Manda, it ain't just that."

He looked down and saw her black boot peeping out from under her skirt.

"What then?"

"I'm pretty sure me sidin' with a sheep man woulda changed all that." Well, he'd lived on the outer most of his life – no reason why it should bother him now. After all, even his old outfit had turned on him. The only ones who hadn't had been Scott and his old man – and Lucy.

"We're farmers, Johnny. My pa doesn't have a lot of love for cattlemen. He tried farming on three different ranges before we came here. He was run off every time."

"I'm sorry 'bout that."

Amanda shrugged. "Things are good, here. We're happy."

"Except for this," Johnny said, reaching out and fingering the stiff, black skirt she wore. "This for Lucy?" he asked, softly.

Amanda's eyes suddenly filled with tears again. All she could do was nod.

"She wouldn't thank you for it…you know that, don'tcha?" he added, gently.

"I know, darn it," she sniffed with a stamp of her foot.

Johnny grinned. "She never did care much for what people thought, did she?"

His eyes followed her as she turned and put the towel back in the basin, sniffing a couple of times with her back to him. "I sometimes wondered if…"

She stopped all of a sudden, and he had the feeling her brain had just caught up to her mouth.

With a tilt of his head, he asked, "Wondered what?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking aloud," she answered, way too quickly.

He took the last few gulps of his coffee then stood up and moved over to her, putting the mug down on the polished wood in front of her. He kept his fingers wrapped around the handle and she just stood there, staring down at his hand while he leaned on the counter.

"Thinkin' what?" he drawled softly.

She looked down at him then and, for a moment, he thought he saw something like fear in her brown eyes, as if she held some secret she couldn't tell.

Johnny straightened and let go of the mug. Putting his hands to her shoulders, he gently drew her around to look at him. "Mandy, I thought I knew Lucy. If you know somethin' that I don't that'd make sense of all this then…"

"Johnny, I don't. Not really. It's just something she said to me…just the once…a long time ago."

"Yeah?"

Amanda wouldn't look him in the eye. Instead, she shrugged off his hold and walked towards the storefront window.

Johnny considered her back. By the looks of it, her mind was made up. "Maybe, sometimes, you just can't ask why," he said softly, moving to pick up his hat.

"I don't know if what I'm gonna say is going to help you or hurt you," Amanda protested in almost a whisper.

Johnny shrugged, pushing the crown of his hat out of shape with a fist. "Well, I guess you've gotta let it out for us to know one way or the other, Mandy."

He gave her a few more moments, deftly reworking his hat back into shape with the side of his hand.

"If you're sure, Johnny."

No, he wasn't sure. Nothing like it.

"Sure, I'm sure," he said, watching her intently now.

Her shoulders rose as she took a deep breath and then she turned to face him.

"Johnny, I know Lucy loved you. She was crazy 'bout you. Had her eye on you the very first time she saw you ride into town with your pa and your brother."

Johnny regarded her steadily, his hat held still in his hands now. After a moment the beginnings of a smile started to make its way across his face as he thought back a lifetime ago. "Yeah, she was the one who asked me to dance. She was the only one not scared of bein' with Johnny Madrid that night."

"I remember."

"'Course, Scott musta been makin' up stories about me to keep all the pretty ones away," he grinned.

"It didn't work with Lucy, though."

"Nope. Sure couldn't fool her."

"Took you a good while to get around to courtin' her, though," she pointed out, a slight teasing note in her voice.

"Well, I wasn't exactly courtin' material those early days at Lancer," Johnny admitted lightly.

Amanda lowered her gaze, the smile slowly fading from her lips.

"Go on. You were sayin'?" Johnny encouraged. At least she'd relaxed a bit with his joking but now all she did was fiddle with the ribbons on one of the hats.

"Amanda?"

She didn't look up; just kept winding the dark green ribbon around her finger. When she finally spoke, she still sounded reluctant.

"Did you ever get the feeling that sometimes life's already got everything planned, like some stuff's written in the stars or something…people…their feelings?"

Johnny went still.

"Lucy said to me one time that there was something waitin' out there for her. That she didn't know what it was but that when it came along she was gonna jump up and grab at it with both hands."

Johnny didn't want to hear this.

"I just figured that the sheepherder must've been that something she was waiting for. I mean, for her to just decide to up and leave like that…to even offer herself to…" She stopped suddenly, her cheeks becoming rosy red. "Well, it just didn't seem like our Lucy…seemed more like it was someone else," she finished sadly.

"So, you're sayin' you don't think Lucy and me would ever have made it?" he asked, looking straight at her. It could have been someone else's voice doing the asking. It didn't seem to be coming from him.

Amanda slowly let her eyes meet his.

Amanda knew Lucy the best of all; they worked together, played dolls together growing up. Did all that secret girl stuff in her room. He used to catch them with their heads together, hatching some plan or other.

She didn't have to nod her head. He saw it in her eyes.

"Well, best I know now, huh?"

"Johnny. I'm so sorry."

Which was about as helpful as him apologising to a body lying dead in the street.

"Sure."

"Johnny…"

"I gotta go. The paint I rode in on mighta kicked down the stall by now."

He'd been more dead than alive a few times in his life and this felt awfully similar.

She stood there looking guilty as hell and something tugged at him. "Ain't your fault, Mandy," he told her as he dropped his hat on his head. "I'll be seein' ya."

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

The paint hadn't kicked down the stall.

For whatever reason, when he dragged the saddle back onto it with his aching arm and shoulder, it just stood there, turning its head to look at him with a bored expression, as if it had gone through this routine every day for the last year.

Well, at least something was finally going right.

"Gonna be dark soon, Johnny," Joe told him amiably, lifting the glass to light the lantern hanging on a hook near the door.

"Yep, I'd best be headin' home. This one give you any trouble, Joe?"

"Nope. Good as gold. That's a fine animal."

Johnny nodded, said his goodbyes and rode out. He didn't want to talk, didn't want to drink - didn't really want to do anything just then…except ride.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

To be continued...