Scott disciplined his panic as he and Johnny covered the remaining distance to the hacienda. As they came within sight of the ranch buildings he made a swift assessment – the blackened remains of the storage shed explained the lingering aroma of burnt timber but he saw thankfully that none of the other buildings appeared to be damaged. His relief increased as he saw Jelly coming out of the barn. There was another man with him that Scott didn't recognize but although the old wrangler looked unusually sombre, there was no urgency about the way he came up to meet them. Whatever had happened, things must be under control now.
Johnny pulled Barranca to a halt and jumped down. "Jelly, what's going on? What happened?" he demanded.
"No need to worry, Johnny," Jelly assured him. "We had a little trouble last night but everything's alright now, 'cepting we lost the storage shed. And boys, this is Dougal Renslo, he kindly came along to help us out. Dougal," Jelly turned to his companion, "this is Scott Lancer and Johnny Lancer." He indicated each of the brothers in turn.
"Howdy," Dougal greeted them.
"Hello," Scott returned. "You have our thanks." The fellow must have seen the fire and come to help, he supposed. He wondered briefly where he'd come from but was more thankful that there'd been an extra pair of hands when they must have been needed.
Johnny also nodded a brief greeting to Dougal then looked over at the almost empty corral, Dougal's horse the only animal there.
"Where are the horses? They get spooked by the fire?" he asked Jelly.
"Well, no, not exactly," Jelly hedged. "We'll go round 'em up tomorrow, when the rest of the men get back. Glad you found old Toby, though," he added, taking hold of the rope around the big horse's neck. "Your Pa'll be pleased he's safe and sound."
"Where is Murdoch?" Scott asked.
"He's inside," Jelly answered, "but before you go in," he added as Scott turned towards the house, "there's something you gotta know…"
"What?" Johnny snapped, springing back onto the alert.
"Now there's nothing to worry about, everything's going to be alright," Jelly began, but Johnny interrupted him.
"Jelly, will you quit saying that and just tell us what happened!" he demanded once again.
"Yes, Jelly, what exactly is it we need to know?" Scott put the question in what Johnny called his "officer voice". Jelly's words had triggered off his own anxiety again and he wanted to know the answer, quickly. But Jelly still prevaricated.
"It was me he was after," he told them, the distress evident in his voice and his face. "He got here just before sundown and bushwhacked me and Murdoch but like I said…"
"Who bushwhacked you?" Johnny jumped in again. "And do you mean Murdoch's been hurt?" He looked like he wanted to shake Jelly and Scott felt like he wanted to join him but just then the hacienda door opened and Teresa came out, running towards them.
"Here's Teresa, we'll get a straight story from her," declared Scott. He walked across to meet her but as she neared him, what he saw made him more worried still. The smiling welcome she always had for him and Johnny when they got home was there but the smile barely hid the strain on her face and it was obvious that the welcome held a large measure of relief.
Scott strode up and put his arm around her and for a moment she dropped her head onto his shoulder. Just for a moment, then she stood straight and steady again, but the action told him more than any words could. Teresa was no fluttering Boston miss, she had a Western woman's matter-of-fact sturdiness. Whatever had made her need to lean on his brotherly strength for that moment would be no small matter. He would find out what it was, right now.
"Come on, let's go inside," he turned to Johnny but his brother was already striding towards the hacienda. He'd seen the look on Teresa's face, too.
"Murdoch!" Johnny called as they entered the house.
"In here, Johnny," Murdoch Lancer's voice came from the Great Room. Scott and Johnny plunged into the room then both abruptly halted as they saw their father seated in an armchair with a bandage covering his eyes. Scott felt a sickening dread grip him; a glance at Johnny told him his brother was feeling the same. Then Teresa's voice beside him was saying, "Don't worry, Doctor Jenkins says he'll be fine, he just needs to rest," and Murdoch was adding his own reassurances, "Just some hot ashes in the face, a few days and I'll be as good as new."
Scott's gaze took in the boarded up pane in the French door leading to the patio.
"I think, sir, that I'd like to hear exactly what's been happening," he said to his father. "And I think Johnny would like to hear, too," he added.
"You bet I want to know," Johnny declared. "You're sure you're gonna be alright, Murdoch?"
"Yes, Johnny," his father smiled. "Sit down and I'll tell you the whole story."
"I'll bring some coffee," Teresa said. Scott squeezed her shoulder and she smiled up at him before whisking out to the kitchen. Scott sat down on the sofa and Johnny perched on the arm of the other chair.
"Now, how much did Jelly tell you," Murdoch began…
Outside, Dougal and Jelly took care of the horses.
"Mostwise, of course, the boys would tend their own horses, but they're anxious about their daddy," Jelly explained to Dougal.
"When you've got family, they come first," Dougal agreed.
Jelly, when he'd woken mid-afternoon, had greeted Dougal with a simple, "Much obliged to you," but Dougal was beginning to get his new friend's measure. Jelly might not admit to needing a favour but that didn't mean he didn't appreciate it. The two men had worked together for what remained of the day, doing the needed chores including boarding up the broken window. It was obvious to Dougal that a gun had caused the damage but he said nothing. Whatever the trouble had been, it was over now and he didn't feel the need to go snooping into other people's business.
Mr Lancer's sons were back now; the family would be alright. Dougal would stay overnight – Jelly had shown him a spare bed in the bunkhouse – and be on his way in the morning. Before he left, though, he thought he might as well ask the Lancers if they knew anything that might help him in his search. Mr Lancer, or Jelly, or one of the Lancer sons may have heard of the man he was looking for. A big ranch like this, they'd know a lot of people, would hear a lot of news. He'd ask them at supper.
"So Jelly will be blaming himself, I'm sure, even though none of it was his fault," Murdoch Lancer concluded his story.
"And Doc Jenkins is sure your eyes are gonna be alright?" persisted Johnny.
"Yes, it's just the eyeball surface that's got burnt off. Sam says it will grow back in a few days, I just need to keep my eyes covered and let them heal," Murdoch assured him again.
Scott smiled to himself. He was remembering Johnny's words on the ride back, about their father worrying. Which one was doing the worrying now?
"Actually, Doctor Jenkins said Murdoch should have complete rest for at least a week," Teresa put in.
"That might be a challenge," Scott remarked drily, "keeping Murdoch Lancer still for a whole week!"
"He's gonna do it, though, if I have to sit on him!" declared Johnny.
"That's probably what it will take," was Scott's rejoinder.
"Supper will be ready in a few minutes," Teresa stated. "I'll call Jelly and Mr Renslo in."
"No, I'll go," Johnny offered. "I'll have a word with Jelly, make sure he's not being stupid and feeling guilty about things. Like you said, none of it was his fault." He rose and went outside.
"I'm looking forward to meeting this Dougal Renslo properly," Scott remarked as Johnny left the room. "Sounds like we owe him our thanks on a few counts."
"We certainly do, Scott," Murdoch concurred. "I hope we have a chance to repay him somehow."
They ate supper at the big table in the ranch kitchen, Dougal savouring the home-cooked meal appreciatively.
"Only beef stew," Teresa had half-apologised as she dished it up.
"It's the best supper I've had in quite a while, Miss Teresa," Dougal had told her and it was true. His meals the last couple of months had been the offerings dished up in cheap boarding houses or his own camp cooking. The rich stew, served with pitchers of fresh milk, was a treat.
Even better than the food, thought Dougal, was eating in a home, with a family. Well, he supposed they weren't all family. Miss Teresa wasn't a blood relative of the Lancers, from what she'd said earlier, and Jelly was a ranch hand – he called Mr Lancer 'Boss' – although they treated him like one of the family. Probably he'd worked on the ranch for years. Dougal didn't know what Johnny had said to Jelly when he'd pulled him aside earlier but it seemed to have put the old man's mind at rest. He seemed at ease now, more than he had been all day. Dougal was pleased. Somehow, in the short time he'd known Jelly, he'd gotten real fond of the old guy.
The talk was mostly of the cattle drive.
"No, there was no real problem, just lots of little things that made for delay," Scott was telling his father. "The herd wasn't at Spring Rock when we got there – a few of the beeves had strayed off and it took time for the men to get them back. Then the cattle managed to break through one of the fences in the holding yard at the railhead and had to be rounded up." Scott paused and took a swallow of milk. "We got them all loaded eventually – Mr Butler sends you his best regards, by the way. Then on the way back, Carlos' horse threw a shoe.
"We weren't far from Spanish Wells by then so Carlos decided to take the horse there to get re-shod. The other men decided to go along with him." Scott grinned. "I think they considered they'd earned a beer or two by then and I wouldn't disagree. Johnny and I came on back to let you know how things went."
"It'll be our turn for the beer tomorrow night," Johnny added.
"And well-deserved too," his father smiled. "But tonight we'll make do with some coffee in the living room." He stood up and Johnny, Scott and Teresa all jumped to his side to lend a guiding hand. Johnny got the privilege this time and Dougal smiled as he watched the father and son walking together. It did feel good to be around a family again.
There was a small fire burning in the fireplace, just enough to ward off the chill of the early fall evening. When they had all settled into the chairs around it, Scott spoke.
"So, Dougal, tell us, what brings you to this neck of the woods? If there's anything we can help with, we'd be glad to. We certainly owe you a favour. If you're looking for work, we can help with that, I'm sure. Or if you're looking for a good poker game, I can tell you to stay away from Johnny," he grinned.
"Hey, just because you lost the last game!" protested his brother. "But Scott's right," he added to Dougal, "Murdoch told us how you helped out and if there's anything we can do in return, we'd be happy to."
"Well, as a matter of fact, I'm hoping you might be able to help with something," Dougal answered. "There's someone I'm looking for. Last I heard tell, he was somewhere around Morro Coyo. Have any of you heard of an old man, travelling around with a bunch of kids? He never seems to stay in one place for long, but I'm hoping he might still be around here."
Everyone in the room grew still. Dougal was startled as he looked from one closed, grim face to the other. It was Johnny who broke the silence.
"Why do you want him?" he demanded.