CHAPTER 14 - HOPE

Hope not sunshine ev'ry hour
Fear no clouds will always lour. (lower)
~Robert Burns 1793

"What the hell does that mean? You're not going to-."

"I'm not doing anything under this roof, anyways! I'm making other arrangements, that's all I mean. I already talked to Sam about him finding me a place in one of those sanatoriums."

That stopped Scott in his tracks. "You what? For God's sake, Johnny, why would you. . . ?" He sat down heavily in the bedside chair, baffled. "Why would you choose to have strangers care for you?"

His flare of temper abated, Johnny replied tiredly, It's better that way."

"Better for whom?"

"Look," Johnny said defensively, "it's all arranged so there's no point in going over it, all right?"

"No it is definitely not all right." Scott stared fixedly at Johnny as if he didn't know him.

"Sometimes people just have to make their own choices, Scott. You can't force me to see this from your point of view. Until you're lying here, in a bed with your legs as dead as logs, you have no right, no right to tell me what I can and cannot do!"

"You're still part of this family, Johnny."

"Am I?" Johnny inhaled deeply then added curtly, "Look, I'm willing to give it a try, to learn how to get around, how to take care of myself. But I cannot do that under your watchful eye. I'm sorry, but I need to be cared for by someone who doesn't give a damn about me, someone who doesn't pity me."

"I don't pity you, brother." Scott was aware that he did feel sorry for Johnny, as much as he would for anyone in the same wretched situation. "I know that you can overcome this, or at least accommodate the way you live so you can get some control back in your life. I don't pity you, Johnny. I really don't, but I'm sorry this ever happened to you. Can you see the difference?"

Johnny made a dismissive motion with his shoulder. "I can see the way people look at me. Take Cipriano. Today he couldn't even meet my eyes because he was afraid to make me envious of him going up to Cooper Canyon. I know what I'm missing, believe me I know, but having people pity me is killing me, Scott!"

"The solution is not to run away from it all." Scott shook his head adamantly. "You're going to stay here until you're able to take care of yourself, and that's final. If I have to get you declared incompetent and pull some strings to get a court order to prevent the doctor from moving you away from here, I will do so!"

Johnny was astounded and angry that Scott could even think he could override his wishes like that. "Damn it, who do you think you are to take away my right to make my own choices? You didn't give Jenny any choice, either did you? Did you ever think that maybe she had good reason to keep her troubles all to herself? She took the situation in her own hands because she knew you would make her do what you want and not necessarily what was right for her."

Scott felt like he'd been delivered a physical blow. After a few moments of silence, he recovered and raised his voice in reply. "Don't you bring Jenny into this! She never gave me, or our child a chance! I'm dictating what you should do because you're obviously emotionally distraught. You tried to kill yourself with pills and a bullet just the other night! How can you expect us to give any weight to anything you say when you're not seeing this with a clear head? You're not making the right decisions!"

"The right decisions?" Johnny sat up in bed, his arms rigid and muscles straining as they supported his upper body. "You're making these decisions that are right for you, not for me. You're just gonna run right over me, aren't you? Well if you think that's what's gonna happen, you're gonna have one hell of a fight on your hands, brother! I ain't going easy!"

The two brothers glared at each other, but after a minute Johnny's flushed, angry face changed. His lips twitched, then smiled, and finally a snort escaped.

"What is so amusing?" Scott crossed his arms over his chest, finding no humor in the situation.

Johnny was still laughing. "I think this is the place in our argument that I usually storm out and head for the door." He indicated his legs and shrugged. "I guess that puts an end to that bad habit of mine," he said carelessly.

Scott couldn't help smiling in response and he relaxed, but his humor faded fast. He took a breath and said seriously, "I know I would have listened to my wife, if she had only confided in me. But Johnny," he reasoned, "she didn't know if the baby would come out deformed. My Jenny was beautiful. Think about it. . .what if her own mother had decided it was too much of a risk to bring her into this world? Jenny would never have even existed. My wife never gave me or that baby a chance."

"I don't know, Scott, I don't know, but someone has to make the choice and take that risk."

Scott said earnestly, "Then take a risk, Johnny. I would like you to stay here at Lancer, and I know Murdoch would, too. You need to talk this over with Natalie. She liked staying here before you were married, even if it was only for a short time. I'm sure she would-."

Johnny gave a half-hearted laugh and dropped his head forward. Slowly he looked up and smiled ruefully at Scott. "I don't think so." No, his wife had no interest in living in the country, especially not on a cattle ranch. She had made that more than clear on the several occasions he had suggested they could move closer to his family's home. "She won't live at Lancer. She's real adamant about that. I'm not even going to ask her."

At that point, Scott thought of his brother's last words before he had fallen into a drugged asleep on the previous evening. He took a chance and asked, "Are you afraid she's going to shoot you on sight again?" When Johnny's head shot up in alarm, Scott knew he'd struck a nerve.

"What?" Johnny's eyes darted around in an effort to remember what he could have said for Scott to pose such a question. He couldn't remember mentioning anything about Natalie, and in fact he was certain he had been careful not to, so he stalled. "I told you it was a business deal gone wrong," he said referring to the bullet that Sam had removed from his back. He shifted his position and lay back on the inclined bed. /Hell, what did I say about her to Scott? About us?/

For a moment Scott wondered if he heard Johnny wrong - after all, he had been heavily drugged and was mumbling at the time. But then he saw his brother picking at the hem of the blanket and knew, just knew that he was hiding something. Sitting down on Johnny's bed, Scott determined to get to the bottom of it. Like Johnny had pointed out, he wasn't running anywhere; Scott had a captive audience. He started slowly and pointed towards Johnny's hip. "I was talking about the bullet wound on your hip. The one that made you go in to see Sam in the first place." There was no reply. Scott continued, asking, "Did she shoot your holster right off you? You must feel lucky it didn't go a few inches the other way."

"Damn right I was lucky," Johnny agreed. He was sweating but didn't wipe his brow for fear it would point attention to his nervousness. "I must have been talking crazy from those pills."

Scott narrowed his eyes. "You've never told Natalie that you can't walk, have you?"

Johnny swallowed and gave a curt shake of his head. "I can't."

"You have to talk your situation over with your wife so that you can decide on your future together." Johnny began to interrupt, but Scott overrode him, saying, "Johnny, I'm a prime example of a man who failed to communicate with his wife and you could learn from my mistake." He said despondently, "But if Jenny had truly loved, trusted and understood me, she would have told me, right at the beginning, about her fear about having a child, and not kept it a secret."

"She did love you, Scott, I saw you two together, and it was obvious," Johnny protested, anxious that his brother didn't look at his marriage as a failure. Jenny had seemed like the perfect wife, and they had adored each other, and had always got along. But then he and Natalie had once been like that, too.

Scott leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs, hands clasped. "Right now I don't feel that way. She never gave me any hint that she was reluctant to have children. Never." He asked sadly, "Why didn't she trust me?"

"I don't know, Scott. Some people don't even trust themselves. If Jenny didn't believe in herself she probably couldn't imagine anyone else understanding her, no matter how close she was to them."

"Jenny was so looking forward to going to the Founder's Day dance. She even had her dress all ready." Scott smiled a little at the memory. "She kept bringing it out and looking at it, trying it on. I thought she was being a little vain, you know?" He halted and hung his head. "But now I see that she was afraid it wasn't going to fit at the waist. She wanted to hide her pregnancy from everyone, including me."

Scott rested his head in his hands, unable to withstand the sadness that overwhelmed him whenever he remembered Jenny's face. "I can't see her happy any more. I can only see her lying on her bed, almost gone, so pale. She said my name," he said in a voice so low it was barely audible. "Did I tell you that? She said my name as she died." Scott felt his brother's hand touch his hair, a stroke so full of compassion that it drove him to tears. "How can I tell you what to do when I can't even contend with my own troubles?"

Johnny's arm went around his brother and he just held him. "It'll be all right. I know we keep telling each other that, but if we mean it, and work at this together, I know we can make it. You had three good years with her, didn't you? Yes, and you loved her and you did everything you could for her. That counts for a lot." His eyes stung as he thought of the pretty young woman who had been his brother's bride, how sweet she had been, so very kind. And then he thought of Jenny's funeral, and how he and Natalie had come back to Lancer together to see Scott's wife buried. Nearly a year after that, Murdoch and Scott had come to visit them in San Francisco, and Johnny had been torn between showing off his and Natalie's newly built house and feeling exceedingly sorry for his widowed brother.

Johnny managed to say in a shaky voice, "You have to forgive her, Scott."

"I'm trying. God's truth, I am trying so hard." He sniffed and averted his face.

"I guess," Johnny said, "neither of us are doing too well dealing with our problems, but I tell you what. From now on we'll make double sure we're there for each other."

Scott raised his head to look at Johnny. He backhanded his eyes to clear them. "You mean you'll reconsider about remaining here?"

There was so much hope in Scott's eyes and Johnny didn't want to hurt him any more, so he gave in a little. "I'll think about it some more, but whatever I settle on, you have to stick with it. Deal?" He held out his hand and after a couple of seconds, Scott shook it, nodding in agreement.

Scott poured himself a glass of water, wandered over to the window, then eventually meandered back to the bedside. "There's still one thing we need to clear up, Johnny." Scott decided to ask the question that was bothering him, once more. "A couple of nights ago, when you were under the influence of that medication. . ."

Johnny looked sheepish and held up a hand. "Don't worry, I won't do that again-."

"No, you won't, but I didn't mean that. When you were dropping off to sleep, you said that it was Natalie who shot you along your hip. Explain that to me." Watching Johnny's face was an interesting experience when he was cornered and could find no way out. Scott saw a surge of alarm change to wariness and right away it was as if the man behind the face had literally shut the doors on the enemy. There was no emotion to be seen. None at all. There was a blank façade covering something that Johnny did not want anyone on the outside to view.

But Scott had seen the process before and this time he planned to batter at it until he broke Johnny down. He leaned over to grip Johnny's shoulders in both of his hands, driving the bedridden man onto the mattress. Leaning close, Scott said between his teeth, "It's no good. You can't hide in there, Johnny. Not from me."

For a moment, Johnny's temper overruled his sense of control. He brought both of his arms up, striking his brother's hands away, and followed up with a shove on Scott's chest. "Get outta my face, brother, or you'll be sorry." To Johnny's surprise, the blond man stood straight and laughed.

"Oh no, you can't drive me away. I know your tricks, Johnny Lancer. You might think you can get the better of me, but it won't work this time."

Johnny struggled to sit again, wincing at the slight pain in his lower back from the sudden movement. Right now the biggest pain he had to contend with was his brother - just standing there, looking so smug. "If I could get on my feet," Johnny growled, "it would give me a heap of pleasure to knock you down, brother."

"I don't doubt that you would try, little brother. Hey, I know! We can get Murdoch and Cipriano in here to support you and I'll stand right in front and you can do your best to punch me in the face."

Johnny was astounded to see that Scott's eyes were alight with some twisted sense of amusement at his idea. Johnny retorted, "Only if I can sell tickets to it. I know plenty of people who'll pay good money to see me knock you flat." There was another twinge in his back, but much more severe. Johnny's hand instinctively clutched at the source of his pain and he toppled sideways with a groan.

Scott was at his side in a second, preventing Johnny from falling off the bed. Johnny didn't miss the opportunity to lash out and, even though it was not fair by any means, his fist shot out. Because of being half-reclining, the punch was not as hard-hitting as Johnny had wanted, but his knuckles made contact with Scott's eye.

Scott stumbled back with one hand clamped to his damaged eye, and cried out, "Ow!"

The fast movement caused an excruciating pain to shaft up Johnny's back, but he managed a croaky challenge. "You just wait 'til I'm on my feet!"

Scott's look of surprise and pain from being hit changed to shock. His hand dropped away from his face. With one eye wide and the other blinking back tears, he pointed to Johnny's legs, hidden under the blanket. "They. . .they moved! Your legs moved!"

Johnny stared at the blanket in disbelief; there was no movement at all. He hadn't shifted his legs, he knew that much. He couldn't move them. He'd tried many times, sometimes throwing off the covers when there was nobody around, just to make one more, just one more futile attempt. "No," he denied under his breath. Scott had imagined it. "No," he said adamantly. "They just shifted because my upper body moved, is all."

Scott held onto Johnny's shoulder, and gave him a little shake. "Try it again."

Johnny raised his voice in frustration. "I didn't try anything the first time! It won't-."

"For God's sake, Johnny, for once, will you listen to me?" Scott reached down and pulled the blanket away to reveal Johnny's legs, encased in the pants that Val had helped him to pull on earlier that day. "Try it," Scott ordered. He supported his brother in a sitting position with an arm around his back.

Johnny did not want to try and disappoint anyone, least of all himself. Besides, he was having trouble just breathing due to the pain that was shooting from his tailbone down the back of his legs. Damn it for coming back. And damn Scott for expecting too much of him. "It's not gonna work, I tell you." Nevertheless, he took a deep breath and told his legs to move. Nothing happened. He looked up at Scott and saw the encouraging look on his face. Johnny tried again and to his utter amazement, his right leg moved. It wasn't much but it bent a little at the knee and his bare foot slid up the mattress a few inches. He sat there with his mouth hanging open in disbelief.

Scott whooped, "Yes!"

Murdoch had heard his sons quarreling then shouting, but it wasn't until there were thumps and the sound of scuffling that he finally put down his book and went upstairs to separate them. He'd left them to sort out whatever they found it necessary to do because he knew that they were good for each other. Even when they fought the two men played off each other.

As he mounted the main staircase, he heard a shout louder than the others. The tenor of it, the excitement, was enough to hurry him along the corridor. Throwing open the door to Johnny's bedroom, he beheld a sight that was both astounding and overwhelming.

Scott stood with his arms supporting Johnny, and the young man who had been told that he would never walk again was standing on his own two feet. The brothers, one so blond, the other dark, both looked up at the same time, laughing. Their expressions of joy and wonder were more than Murdoch had ever hoped for.

He rushed forward, and was just in time to grab Johnny as his knees gave way and he stumbled forward. Murdoch asked, "How did this happen?" He didn't care how or even why, not a whit, so long as his boy was walking, or at least standing. There was still some hope in the world.

***–***TBC