CHAPTER 4 - BUILDING WALLS
Before I built a wall I ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out.
~ Robert Frost 1914
Johnny relaxed in the rocker near the small fire in the Crawford's cozy parlor. He had removed his jacket and, at Teresa's request, his holster. He sat in his shirtsleeves and fancy vest, enjoying the quiet, homey scene. The children were asleep and Bettina had left for her own home nearby. He traded a few stories with Val, but for the most part they just sat in a comfortable silence.
"How was Murdoch?" Teresa asked. "He must be so pleased to have you home."
"He seemed all right. Kept pretending he didn't need that cane of his."
"He hides it but he uses it when his lumbago acts up. It comes and goes," she replied, picking up some sewing. "I do worry about him."
Val added, "Not to contradict you, dear, but that old man's as tough as whang leather. I saw him out ridin' herd not two weeks back, and the young cowboys were having a hard time keepin' apace with him."
Teresa looked up from her mending. "I still worry. You'll stay the night, Johnny? It's so good to see you, but such a shame Natalie couldn't come this time. We haven't seen her in . . .in such a long time."
She didn't have to say aloud what they all knew, that Natalie hadn't been to Lancer since she and Johnny had attended Jenny's funeral. And once married, she had dropped her familiar name, Tallie, in favor of a name that befitted her position as a married woman.
"Maybe she'll come with me the next time," Johnny said. He looked into the fire and pictured sitting in the front parlor in his own house. It had been expensive to build, especially the installation of the plumbing, but Natalie had wanted the best and, as always, he provided just that for her. Situated in a neighborhood that was still within easy reach of San Francisco's business district, the two-story frame house boasted five bedrooms and two acres of land. They kept a couple of carriage horses and Johnny had become used to tooling around town in a well-sprung carriage with his wife at his side. Natalie had coerced him into moving to San Francisco, which was as far away from Lancer as he was willing to go, though not far enough away for her liking.
Several months after Jenny's death, when Scott and Murdoch had come to San Francisco on business, Natalie and Johnny had done their best to entertain their visitors, but there had been a pall cast over their time together that had been hard to shake.
"It seems every time I want to come visit you I'm having another baby," Teresa said with a smile. She rose and picked up Johnny's empty coffee cup to return it to the kitchen. "It's hard to drag my husband away from his work, as you know. Sometimes I think he's married to the job." She softened her apparent criticism by stroking his hair. Val didn't make any indication he'd felt it, but he didn't shirk away from his wife's touch, either, Johnny noticed.
"D'you want another coffee or can I get you something stronger before I leave?" Val asked as he stood. "We have a place over the stable for guests. Ain't much but Teresa fixed it up in case anyone wants to stay over. As you can see, we're bustin' at the seams here with all the little ones."
Teresa looked up at her husband. "Are you going in to work now? Have you had enough to eat?"
Val laid a hand on the back of her neck and said softly, "I've had plenty. Be back 'fore midnight. Lock up behind us." To Johnny, Val explained, "Gotta check on the deputies. I don't know how it is but they seem to get younger each year."
At that, Johnny stood and stretched and retrieved his holster and coat. "Teresa, it was a real nice meal, and thank you for the invitation to bunk here, but I'm going back to Lancer."
Val said, "Come along to play poker over at my office one night this week, Johnny. The town's usually dead as a skunk after nine, so some of the fellows and me play cards in between goin' on rounds to keep an eye on things. You can demonstrate your draw usin' that fancy rig." Val eyed Johnny's shoulder holster as he slung it over his shoulder and buckled it across his chest.
"And I'll be visiting Lancer for a few days soon," Teresa said with a smile. "When Val starts working the night shift, he can't sleep a wink during the day with all the commotion we make. And Murdoch loves it when the children come to stay."
Johnny put on his jacket and leaned over to kiss her. When his cheek was still close to hers, she held onto him and whispered in his ear, "Please be patient with Scott. He needs a friend."
Johnny nodded, then donned his hat and said his final good-byes.
The two men walked out together and Johnny offered Val one of his cigars. In the time it took Johnny to light one for himself and another for Val, the sheriff had readied his own horse and brought Santiago over for him to mount. With a wave back in the direction of Teresa, who was only a dark silhouette in the lamp-lit kitchen doorway, they set off at a steady pace for Green River.
"Okay, Val, time to 'fess up."
Val had a pretty good idea what Johnny was asking, but it took him a couple of minutes to speak up. "Scott's been gettin' worse, if that's what you mean. He won't come over 'less I ask him several times. Don't speak up much when he does. Like today. You saw how it was - he left as soon as I came home. Now don't get me wrong, your brother helped me a lot last fall when we got settled in here, and he seems fine on the surface, but something's burnin' him up inside."
"You been holding all that in for some time, Val?"
"Aw, you know how it is. Women get these notions, and if I speak my piece aloud, she'll start worryin' about Scott and press me to talk to him about whatever it is."
"Have you tried talking to him?"
"'Course I have. We went huntin' together. He seemed fine for the most part, just real quiet." Val rubbed his jaw.
"But neither of you know what's gnawing at my brother?"
They were approaching the lights of town, so Val reined in his horse and crossed his forearms on the pommel. He tipped his hat back a bit and sighed. "All I know is Scott had a helluva blowout with Dr. Jenkins 'bout eight months back."
"With Sam?" Johnny asked incredulously.
"And no, I don't know what it was about. They went at it, or I hear Scott did. He tore up the Doc's office, too. When I got there, the ruckus was over. They just stood there and wouldn't look me in the eye, both of them all white around the gills, tightlipped as a couple of sour widows. Later I heard that Scott was arrangin' for those doctors and nurses to come out here from Boston. I figured the two of them sorted out whatever was botherin' them."
"I never heard any of this." Johnny removed his hat and settled it back on his head. "When was this?"
"Late summer. I 'member 'cause it was Founder's Day, after the picnic."
"Why didn't Murdoch say anything to me?"
"Maybe because it ain't none of our business," Val hinted. "Look, I gotta go and make sure these deputies of mine haven't locked themselves in the cells and given the lawbreakers their badges. You comin' around my office to play cards in a couple of nights, then?"
"Sure thing. Good to see you." Johnny turned Santiago about and made for Lancer. It was a cool evening, but pleasant for early Spring. He tried to figure out where he had been around the time of the dust-up between his brother and Sam and why nobody had told him about it.
In the end, he concluded that the trouble had occurred at a time when he hadn't been back at Lancer for a period of several months. But he knew the significance of the date that Scott had fought with Dr. Jenkins. The argument, or whatever it had been, had occurred on the one year anniversary of Jenny's death, on Founder's Day. He wondered why his brother had waited a whole year to have it out with the good doctor, and what his beef had been.
It was late by the time he got back to the ranch. Johnny unsaddled Santiago, rubbed him down and let him loose in the corral. There appeared to be only one light shining in the house, and it came from the great room. Johnny gathered up his resolve and walked in, expecting to see Scott sitting in front of the fire. Instead, he found his father bent over the ledgers.
"When are you gonna hire yourself a bookkeeper?" Johnny asked with a drawl.
Murdoch barely glanced up, but after he made one last notation he shut the cover of the large volume and said, "When I'm tired of ranching, perhaps." He smiled tiredly. "I like figuring numbers, even if they don't always come out in the black." He stretched and sat back in his big leather chair.
Johnny sat on the corner of Murdoch's desk and fiddled with a silver inkstand. "I know I'm not a full partner any more, but can I ask if you're running in the red?"
A slight smile played across Murdoch's lips, but it was fleeting. When Johnny had gone off to seek his own fortune, they had deemed it most fair if only Scott and Murdoch had any say in running the ranch. Johnny's portion was held in trust, and Murdoch held out a slight hope that his younger son would return one day to reclaim it. "Running in the red? No, it hasn't come to that. We're diversified enough, more than most big ranchers around here. Scott has been trying to get us to close down some of the side operations on the basis that we're spread too thin. But as we're still making a profit, I don't see any reason to change what doesn't need changing. Is your brother with you?"
A little alarmed, Johnny stood. "He didn't come back earlier? Damn, I shouldn't have let him go off on his own." He briefly told his father how Scott had left Val's house early, but if he expected Murdoch to become upset or even worried he was mistaken.
"He'll find his way home, don't you worry."
But Johnny did worry. He went out to the barn and checked to see if Scott's horse had been stabled, but Victory was not there. He lit a lantern and made his way through the building and out the back to have a look in the pasture. Suddenly, out of the dark came Scott, startling him. "Where have you been?" Johnny demanded, more aggressively than he had intended.
Raising his hands in mock surrender, Scott replied, "Stopped in Morro Coyo for a beer, if you don't mind, brother."
"Smells like more than one beer."
Scott gave him a withering look and pushed past. He ambled up to the hacienda with his hands in his pockets as if he hadn't even encountered Johnny.
Johnny doused the lantern and replaced it inside the barn, then jogged after his brother. By the time he got in the front door, Scott had already ascended the stairs, and Murdoch was standing at its base, watching him go. With his Stetson in his hand, Johnny moved to follow Scott, but his father grabbed his arm.
"Let him go, son."
Johnny resisted for a moment, then turned his head to look at his father. He saw in the old man's face that he was well aware of Scott's turmoil and he was willing to lay a bet that Murdoch also knew what was causing it. Johnny stared at him accusingly. "Are you just gonna let him walk away?"
"We can't fix what's wrong with him, Johnny. Not by following him and bullying him. Scott's not ready to listen, and forcing him will only make it worse."
"Make what worse? I can't just let him go."
"I'm not asking you to let him go."
Johnny looked pointedly at the hand restraining him from following his brother up the stairs. With deceptive softness, he said, "Let go of my arm, old man, or you're gonna be inviting more trouble than you can handle."
Murdoch released his hold on him and gave a wry smile, much to Johnny's surprise.
"I wondered what it would take for my son to reappear," Murdoch said.
Nonplussed, Johnny concentrated on the hat in his hands for a moment, then glanced up to gauge his father's mood. "I've been here all the time. Just layin' low." He shifted his weight. "You're not gonna tell me what's going on with Scott, are you?"
Murdoch shook his head. "It's not my place. Just spend some time with your brother and he may open up to you."
"All right. I promised to help out on the range for a couple of days. We'll have plenty of time together."
"Then you'd better turn in or you'll be dead in the saddle before tomorrow's nightfall comes. Good night, Son."
"Night, Father."
On his way to his room, Johnny saw a sliver of light coming from under Scott's door. He hesitated, itching to go in and have it out with him, but as Murdoch and Val had both pointed out, whatever was going on was Scott's own business. While he was standing there indecisively, the light was extinguished, so Johnny moved on to his own room and to bed.
Scott let out the breath he'd been holding since he'd heard the soft footfall of his brother just outside his door. He was dreading the confrontation he was sure would come, especially after his behavior that evening.
He never should have stopped for a few rounds of poker and a drink, well, several drinks, at the cantina, but upon leaving Teresa and Val's home, he had been caught in a kind of limbo. If he'd returned home early, Murdoch would have been after him, asking difficult questions and trying hard in his gruff way to be kind.
At this point, Scott couldn't bear any kindness, for fear it would break him. His timing had been off and he'd been as startled as Johnny when he'd run into him out by the barn. He'd felt a bit like a youth sneaking back in after staying out past curfew.
There was a cabin on the other side of the ridge that Scott had cleaned up and made livable back when he was first married. He and Jenny used to spend a couple of days there every now and then, enjoying being truly alone. It was their very own place.
These days it was a bit unkempt, but Scott occasionally sought it out as a refuge. Sometimes, when he should have been heading home, he'd veer over to the cabin and sit on the small porch, or make some coffee and read a book by the stone fireplace. But, of course, it wasn't the same without Jenny - it would never be the same again. He'd loved the cabin while Jenny was alive to enjoy it with him, but now his visits to their getaway made the pain of her absence seem all the more keen. He'd considered avoiding the cabin all together, but he was drawn to it and the memories that lingered there.
Nowadays, as an alternative to going home after completing whatever business had taken him away from the ranch, Scott would sometimes stop at one of the neighboring towns. He'd play some friendly cards or seek out some casual company and take in a few drinks. He'd often return home late, sometimes so late that he'd get looks from the hands, and even from Murdoch, that suggested they thought he had a woman somewhere. Let them think what they wanted.
Johnny might not be so easy to fool, but tomorrow they'd be working hard and there would be no time for idle conversation. No, Johnny wasn't about to confront him, if his brother was still the same person he used to be. He often started a conversation about something, then veered sideways to get to the matter he was really interested in. The trick was not to get sucked in by the tactic. After more than a year's worth of practice at avoiding people, Scott felt sure he could put up as much of a wall as needed to keep his brother at bay.
Scott thought about the vow he'd made earlier that day. He told himself that Johnny deserved his own life, and that neither of them should feel guilty over their choices. If the tables had been turned, and if he had been given the choice to leave Lancer, Scott knew he would never have taken it. Despite his genteel upbringing, his life at Lancer had been everything he'd ever wanted. Then, to find a woman he loved with all his heart to share that life with, well, he couldn't have been any happier.
/I should have known it was too good to be true./
As for Johnny, he had learned life's lessons early and then had to make considerable changes in his lifestyle during his time at Lancer. He had learned to bend and accommodate, but Murdoch hadn't allowed Johnny any leeway to build his own niche within the Lancer empire. After only a couple of years, Scott had seen his brother chomping at the bit, burning with the need to excel on his own.
And look at him now, thought Scott. Johnny had rolled with the punches and recreated himself, yet again. To go from being an orphaned, raw boy to a reputable gunfighter, and then on to become a rancher, had taken a great deal of flexibility. Now Johnny had everything a man could ever want - a wife and fine home, a business he had built from the ground up, and that freedom he had always desired. Unfortunately, Johnny's gain had been their loss. 'Even so, good for him. . . good for him,' Scott murmured aloud.
Johnny donned his new ranching clothes at dawn and made his way down to breakfast. He only had time for some hot oatmeal and one cup of coffee, as well as some good-natured ribbing from a couple of the ranch hands about the creases in his new store-bought shirt and pants, when Scott showed up with their horses.
Scott had chosen a tough little working horse for Johnny to ride. "He has a hard mouth, but he'll stay the course. One of the wranglers is cutting out a string of fresh horses for us right now. You won't want to ride that new horse of yours herding cattle."
Johnny and Scott rode out early with a crew of men and stayed out until it was too dark to work any longer. They competed in their own brotherly way, each of them striving to out-rope, outride and simply outdo each other on that first day. When they returned home, Johnny could barely remain awake long enough to eat supper, and then it was early to bed with no chance to talk to Scott. 'There'll always be another day,' thought Johnny as his head hit the pillow and he fell straight to sleep.
***–*** TBC