Dougal met Johnny's gaze steadily. He was startled and a little bewildered at everyone's reaction but he had nothing to hide, after all, so it seemed to him that the best thing was just to answer Johnny's question directly.
"I'm hoping he might know something of my nephew," he replied. Again there was silence for a second then Teresa jumped in.
"We're being silly. Dougal has nothing to do with Gannett, how could he?"
"Well, o' course he don't!" Jelly declared. "You'll just have to excuse us, Dougal, we're all a little jumpy right now," he apologized. "But you've helped us and we'll help you any way we can."
"Let's hear his story, first," insisted Johnny, still wary.
"Yes, let's," Murdoch. His tone was serious but without the challenge Johnny's voice had held.
"Is your nephew one of those kids?" Scott went straight in.
"I'm hoping he is," Dougal answered. "I don't know. It's only a chance and maybe I'm a fool for hoping but…" He dropped his head for a moment, then looked up again, "but I've got to find out. He's the only kin I have."
"Tell us the story, Dougal." Murdoch Lancer's voice was kind now. Dougal looked at the faces around him. It was sympathy he saw; Johnny still a little cautious maybe, and Jelly wearing a strange expression Dougal couldn't really fathom, but it seemed they did know something about the man he was looking for and he felt they really would be willing to help. These were people he could trust.
He drew a deep breath and started the tale that he'd told many times over the last couple of years but which somehow never got any easier in the telling.
"It's about three years ago, now, or a little more. My brother's cabin got burnt down one night, him and most of his family died in the fire. I was working away then, up in Oregon, out of reach of letters. I didn't know about it 'til I got back to Colorado months later. Neighbours told me they saw the flames but by the time they got there the whole cabin was alight, nearly gone. They couldn't get near it. When they searched it the next morning, they found my brother and sister-in-law and three of their kids, all dead. They didn't find the youngest boy, though, there was no trace of him. They guessed he must have got out somehow and would have run off into the woods, scared. He was only three years old. Would have been terrified, poor kid.
"The neighbours started combing the woods, looking for him, but never found him. It was winter; even spending one night in the open might have been too much for a kid his age. They gave up after three days. Even if he'd got away from the fire unhurt, he would have been dead from the cold by then."
"But you think he may have survived?" Scott prompted.
"Well, it's just a bare chance," Dougal admitted, "but about that time there was an old man in the district, a drifter. He had a bunch of kids with him; orphans he was looking after, folks thought – no-one really knew for sure. Someone saw them camped in an old line shack in the woods a mile or so from my brother's place. They didn't stay there long – things started going missing from the farms round about and when the sheriff went looking for this old man to ask him some questions, they were gone. But I couldn't stop wondering if he might have seen the fire and found my brother's boy …" Dougal paused but before he could go on Jelly was jumping in, a smile of delight on his face.
"Toogie! That's who you remind me of! I said right from the start you put me in mind o' someone. Little Toogie, that's who it was!"
Dougal stared at the old man. In all the months he'd been searching this was the first time he'd heard anything definite. He hardly dared to let himself hope but he said, struggling to keep his voice calm:
"Dougie, that's his name. He was called Dougal after me, and we always shortened it to Dougie. You know him? Is…" Dougal's voice caught for a moment, in spite of himself, "is he alive?"
"He sure is. You can just set your mind to rest," Jelly assured him. "That was me back in Colorado, in my driftin' around days, me and my kids. I found little Toogie wanderin' in the woods. All I could get out of the poor little tyke was just that name, Toogie. Guess that was his way o' sayin' Dougie. His hair was all singed an' his clothes, too. I looked after him and there didn't seem to be anyone left on that farm when I went to see, so I just took him along when we moved on."
"And where is he now?" asked Dougal, leaning forward eagerly.
"Well, it was this way," Jelly explained. "By the time we got here I was thinkin' that it might be better for the boys if I was to find them steady homes where they could stay in the one place. They were needin' to go to school by then, see. I made the acquaintance of the Lancers and they helped me find good, caring families for all o' the boys. And it happened that Mr Lancer needed a top notch horse wrangler about that time, so I agreed to stay on here at Lancer.
"Now little Toogie, he's with Pete Barwell and his wife. Pete's the foreman at the Morgan ranch just outside o' Green River. Got a good house that goes with the job and there's two little girls of their own. Toogie's settled in real happy with them. We'll just go on out there tomorrow and you'll see him. He's going to be thrilled to bits to have an uncle."
Dougal put his head in his hands. Don't be a fool, he told himself, a grown man doesn't cry. But he found he was shaking. He hadn't realized until this sudden end to his search how the suspense had been telling on him – and how bad the emptiness of having no-one had been.
It was only a few moments then he pulled himself together. He looked up to see Teresa refilling his cup. There was a smile on her face and kindliness in her eyes as she laid her hand on his shoulder for an instant before she straightened up and moved away.
"Well, Jelly, it seems I was the one who owed you a favour all along," Dougal said to the beaming old man. "There's no doubt about it, Dougie would have died if you hadn't taken care of him. There's no way I can ever repay that but – thank you."
"Dougal, what do you think you'll do now – about Toogie, I mean?" Murdoch asked.
"What do you mean, Boss?" Jelly queried. "Dougal is Toogie's uncle. He'll have Toogie with him now, of course."
"I think what Murdoch means is that things might not be that simple, Jelly," Johnny answered him. "Toogie's been legally adopted. And besides, he's starting to think of the Barwells as his ma and pa. You said it yourself, he's settled and happy. Might not be the best thing to take him away from that."
"But his blood kin comes first," Jelly retorted. "You should know better than anyone, Johnny Lancer, how important kin is."
"Jelly's right," Scott put in. "Toogie has the right to know who his family is, and who he is. He has the right to know his real name; that's something he shouldn't be denied. As for the adoption, Dougal might be able to contest that. After all, he's Toogie's closest relative so that makes him Toogie's legal guardian. Since he didn't give his consent to the adoption, a court might overrule it."
"Oh, no, Scott," Murdoch protested. "Surely the worst thing would be to drag Toogie into a court case." The Lancer patrón looked strained.
"It needn't come to that, surely," Teresa put in quickly, with an anxious look at Murdoch. "Dougal wouldn't do anything to make Toogie unhappy, not after searching for him for so long. Anyway, here we're all barging in telling him what he should do. Hadn't we better let him have his say?" They all looked at Dougal, who shook his head worriedly.
"I just don't know," he frowned. "It's something I never considered. I've never thought beyond finding Dougie. But you're right, Mr Lancer, the last thing I ought to do is start any sort of legal battle. I can't think of anything worse for a kid. You say these are good people he's with?" he went on, "then we should be able to work something out. Some way to make sure he's happy."
"You and Jelly go see the Barwells tomorrow," Murdoch urged. "Talk it over with them. I know they'll want what's best for Toogie and so will you." He stood up. "I think I'll go to bed." Once again Johnny and Scott were at his side; this time he rested his hand on his elder son's shoulder. The rancher bade them all good night and he and Scott left the room.
Dougal watched as the father and son went out together."You're a close family," he remarked to Johnny.
"We weren't always," Johnny told him. Dougal looked at him in surprise. Johnny went on. "I know what it's like to be alone and I know how important family is. We all understand how you feel about finding Toogie again. We'll help you work things out, if we can." Johnny smiled and Dougal smiled back. He was a lucky man, he thought. He was about to find his nephew and it seemed he'd found some friends as well.
Dougal lay awake a long time after bedding down in the bunkhouse. He was tired out but had too much to think about for sleep to come. He had someone of his own blood left, after all – he wasn't alone any more. Little Dougie wasn't far away and he'd see him again tomorrow. He found himself breathing a prayer of thanks.
But as Johnny had said, it wasn't going to be that simple. Seemed he would have to make some decisions, and he lay there, turning things over his mind.
Finally, the fatigue of the day caught up with him and he slept. His last thought as he drifted off was of how Teresa had slipped into calling him Dougal, instead of Mr Renslo. It had sounded good.