Return to New Hope (Sequel to Chapter 31)
Boston, MA
March 1864
Mister Patrick Malloy sat behind his large mahogany desk from which he ran his incredibly successful newspaper empire. Distribution and readership had been on a constant rise, yet today a fiery rage roared through him. He looked at the crinkled paper he held in one hand and then at the calendar before him. It would soon be a year since his dearest daughter, Kate, had been murdered in a stage coach robbery while on her way to join her husband on the frontier land he was in the process of settling. His attention returned to the letter he had received that day from his six-year-old grandson, Samuel. In careful printing, the young boy had done his best to chronicle the Valentine's Day wedding of his father to his school teacher, Miss Anna. Anger with his rogue son-in-law threatened to overwhelm him.
"How dare you?" he mumbled to himself. "She hasn't even been gone twelve months and you marry the first chit to catch your fancy while I sit here day in and day out and grieve for my only child. It's not fair!" Malloy slammed his fist down on his desk and immediately knew what he must do.
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New Hope, Nebraska Territory
May 1864
MacGyver stood on his front porch and inhaled deeply, his face tipped toward the mid-morning sun as its rays smiled down upon him. Late spring had brought clear skies and warm temperatures to New Hope and his homestead was already beginning to thrive. It had been a brutal winter, but thankfully he had only lost two head of cattle and his horses remained hale and hearty. An early thaw had also allowed him to get a head start on plowing and planting his field. He smiled as the joyful laughter of a grown woman and young boy drifted from the kitchen window. He could hardly believe that only a year ago he had been practically living like a hermit, sequestering himself from everyone and everything in the name of grief, and today he had everything he could possibly dream of. He heard the front door creak open and soon felt his new wife by his side.
"Would you mind hitching up the buckboard? Sammy and I need to go into town and pick up some groceries."
"I'd be happy to drive you," he replied, looking down fondly on the brown-haired, brown-eyed school teacher he had married this past February, much to the delight of his son and her student.
She reached up and gently weaved her fingers through the dark blond hair at the nape of his neck causing a delightful tingle to trickle down his spine. "You could do with a visit to the barber," she mused.
"Um...on second thought...I have some things to tend to here. I'll get the wagon ready for you." He grinned as her mirthful giggle followed him all the way to the barn.
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The little bell above the door tinkled a greeting as Anna walked into the General Store, Sammy beside her.
"Good morning, Anna! What can I help you with today?" Peter Thornton, the storekeeper, asked.
"I'm just here to pick up my weekly grocery order," she sighed, looking around and wishing she had more time to browse.
"Sure thing. I have it all ready in the storeroom." As Mr. Thornton slipped into the curtained off area, Sammy tugged at her skirt.
"Ma, can I go to the post office?" he asked impatiently.
"You know there's no mail delivery on Saturday," she informed him.
"But it's been a whole week," he whined.
"Fine. But remember to watch where you're walking so you don't get run over." Anna had barely finished speaking before the boy was out the door.
"Here we are," Thornton said, placing the box on the counter before calculating the total and taking the money Anna offered. "Guess you're keepin' pretty busy what with teachin' and bein' a newlywed with a ready-made family and all."
"You can say that again!" she chuckled.
"Well, it's right generous of you to offer to stay on teachin' 'til the end of the term."
"In all fairness, I only thought it proper since I wasn't planning on getting married and having a family when I signed my contract. I just hope they can find a replacement by the time classes resume in the fall."
"Oh, I wouldn't worry none about that," Thornton assured her. "This here town is growin' by leaps and bounds. Surely the school board will have plenty of young ladies linin' up to teach our young'uns!"
The bell above the door rang again and Anna turned to find Sammy walking into the store, head hung low, followed by a man in a black suit and white shirt with a stiffly starched collar.
"Still no letter from Grampa?" she asked, sympathy overflowing for the boy. How could his maternal grandfather be so cruel as to not acknowledge the son of his late daughter?
"No," Sammy mumbled. "I was hopin', after I told him all about your wedding, that he might send you and Pa a present."
Anna put a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. How could one so young understand that, while the wedding may have been a happy occasion for him, the news may not sit well with others? Thankfully, Sammy's sullen mood dispersed when he spied a display of pocketknives that had not been there the week before.
"Look, Ma! They're just like the one Pa uses! Can I have one?! Pleaaaase?"
"We've talked about this," she replied sternly. "You can have one when you're older. It'll be your father's special gift to you."
"But I am older than the last time I asked!"
"He's got ya there!" Mr. Thornton chortled. "Would ya like me to carry this out to the wagon for ya?" he asked, easily changing the subject as he lifted her box off the counter.
"That's a mighty fine offer and I think I'll take you up on it," Anna told him cheerfully. "Since marrying MacGyver, I've discovered how nice it is to have a man around to help out!"
Anna rushed to hold open the door, but the man in the black suit stepped out from the shadows and cut her off.
"Allow me," he said, opening the door for her to walk through followed by Sammy and Mr. Thornton before he, himself followed.
"Thank you, sir," Anna offered.
"My pleasure Mrs.-"
"MacGyver. Mrs. MacGyver." She grinned as the name still felt strange upon her lips. "But you can call me 'Anna'. We're quite informal here."
"How very lovely, Anna. In that case, you must call me 'Edward', and allow me to say what a splendid time I am having in your little town."
"I'm glad to hear that," she smiled. "What brings you to New Hope?"
"Business, ma'am, always business."
"What kinda work do ya do, mister?" Sammy asked
"That's not polite, young man," Anna admonished, but Edward smiled even though it didn't reach his eyes.
"I work as a scout for the railroad," the visitor explained. "My bosses want to know if I think they should build a spur from New Hope to hook up with the main line."
"You mean the train might be comin' through here?" Thornton asked.
"Indeed," Edward replied. "Now, if you all will excuse me, I must return to the inn where my hostesses will be serving up the noon meal and I must be punctual lest I go hungry."
"You could come eat with us," Sammy offered eagerly. "Both Ma and Pa cook really good!"
This time Edward offered a genuine laugh. "I rather think your parents are not prepared for a guest. Perhaps some other time."
Even though this was frontier country, Anna knew what manners dictated her to say next. "Tomorrow is Sunday. Please join us for our evening meal."
"I wouldn't want to impose," Edward protested.
"It would be no imposition and perhaps my husband can give you some information about the town and land to take back to your boss."
"Well, how can a man turn down an invitation like that?"
"Then it's settled," Anna stated. "Supper will be at six. Mr. Thornton can give you directions to our place."
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"I hope you don't mind, but I invited a guest to supper tomorrow night," Anna informed MacGyver as he gently deposited the box of groceries on the kitchen table.
"I don't mind," Mac shrugged. "Who is it?"
"His name is Edward and he works as a scout for the railroad. He says they're thinking of building a spur off the main line to service New Hope. He's been eating at the inn, but I thought it only neighborly to invite him since it sounds like he'll be here a while."
"Then maybe he'll learn to talk like us," Sammy interjected.
MacGyver quirked a brow. "What do mean, son?"
Sammy gave a one-shoulder shrug. "He talks funny."
Anna paused from replenishing the cupboards. "Edward has a British accent," she explained.
"I thought we fought a war to get rid of those guys," Mac teased.
"That was almost a hundred years ago," Anna informed her husband. "Besides, this country is made up of immigrants. If not for our ancestors, you and I wouldn't be here. None of us would. Now go wash up. Lunch will be ready soon."
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"He's here! He's here!" Sammy exclaimed as he bounded out the door and down the porch steps to where a man dressed all in black dismounted from an equally black steed. "Hi Edward!" he greeted the man.
"That's 'Mister Edward' to you," MacGyver scolded lightly as he came up behind his son.
"Mister Edward, this is my dad, MacGyver," Sammy said.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Mac said, shaking his guest's hand.
"Oh, I assure you, the pleasure is all mine," Edward replied with a grin.
"We best get in the house," MacGyver instructed. "Anna is putting supper on the table as we speak."
The mealtime conversation gravitated toward politely generic topics such as the weather, the upcoming growing season, and, of course, the railroad. When the final bite of dessert had been consumed, Edward turned to address Anna.
"I daresay this is one of the most delicious meals I've had in a long time, but I do regret if I inconvenienced you."
Mac watched Anna blush slightly at the compliment. "It was only chicken and dumplin's. Besides, I enjoy cooking."
"Do you wanna play a game of checkers, Mister Edward?" Sammy interrupted eagerly. "I'll let ya win if ya want!"
"You need to start getting ready for bed, young man," Anna informed him. "You have school in the morning."
"So do you, but you ain't goin' to bed!" Sammy uncharacteristically shot back. MacGyver sent his son a quelling stare resulting in a mumbled, though not entirely sincere, apology.
"Perhaps this will make up for the checker game, eh?" Edward asked as he handed Sammy a small package wrapped in brown paper and tied with a string. The young boy wasted no time as he ripped into the wrapping and soon held up a brand new pocket knife for everyone to see. Anna gasped and Mac felt as if his heart was being pierced by each and every one of the blades the small tool held.
"Wow! Thanks Mister Edward! Pa, can I keep it?!"
MacGyver glanced up at their guest who was smiling like a cat that got the cream. "We'll discuss it in the morning," he murmured. "Right now, say good-night and go to your room. And leave the knife on the table."
Everyone waited to speak until the boy left the room.
"I'm sorry if I offended you with my gift," Edward apologized, breaking the heavy silence.
"It's not a problem," Mac ground out.
"Indeed, it was very thoughtful of you," Anna added.
Edward made a show of looking at his fancy pocket watch. "Alas, I fear it is getting a bit late. I should head back to town before I'm locked out of the inn. My hostesses keep to a strict curfew."
Good-bye's and thank-you's were exchanged before their guest rode off, blending in with the night.
Hours later, MacGyver lie in bed staring up at the ceiling, Anna beside him. The cadence of her breathing told him she was still awake as well. He felt her small, warm hand cover his beneath the blanket.
"I'm sorry about the pocketknife," she whispered. "Edward must have overheard us talking in the store when Sammy noticed them on display and asked if he could have one. I know you wanted it to be a special gift from you to him."
"It's not your fault," Mac whispered back. "But Sammy knows better than to fuss about it," Mac grumbled. "What did you tell him?"
"I told him he needed to wait until he was older and he informed me he was older."
"First he talks back to you at the dinner table and now you tell me it also happened in the store? It sounds like I need to have a talk with him."
"He's just testing me, Mac. We've only been married a few months and it's gotta be tough havin' a new ma who's also his schoolteacher. I'm sure things will get better when school lets out for the summer in a few weeks."
"I suppose you're probably right," MacGyver admitted, but he was still disappointed in his son's behavior.
"What do you think of Edward?" Anna asked, obviously eager to change the topic of this late night conversation.
"What do you think?" he countered.
He felt her shrug. "He seems like a decent man, I suppose."
"You don't sound convinced," Mac observed. When she didn't respond, MacGyver decided to put his two cents in. "I can't put my finger on it, but there's something about the man that just doesn't sit right with me."
He heard his wife blow out a breath. "I'm glad I'm not the only one who feels that way," she confessed.
Early the next morning MacGyver hitched up his team to the buckboard and pulled it around to the front of the small house just as Anna and Sammy walked through the door, headed for school.
"How about I give you a lift today," he suggested. "I'm going into town and it's right on the way."
Mac took Anna's hand and helped her climb up to sit on the seat beside him while their son scrambled into the wagon. Once everyone was settled, he slapped the reins and the horses began plodding forward.
"I didn't know you had to go into town," Anna remarked once they were underway.
"Found I was in need of a few things this morning while I was tending the herd."
"This wouldn't have anything to do with Edward, would it?" she asked, her voice only loud enough to be heard over the sound of the wagon wheels.
"Does it matter?"
His eyes danced as she shook her head in dismay. "Just behave yourself, okay?"
"You have my word," he replied solemnly before leaning over to kiss her on the cheek.
After dropping off his wife and son at the small, one-room schoolhouse, MacGyver headed directly to the town's saloon. If there was any news to be had, saloon-owner Jack Dalton would know of it. As Mac allowed his body to sway along with the rhythm of the wagon, he couldn't help but chuckle at the unlikely friend he had made. Word had it that Jack was a gold prospector traveling through town on his way to California when his horse pulled up lame and he came down with influenza. Weak and penniless, he sold his claim and stayed on to run the saloon. MacGyver first met him the previous spring when a sudden thaw flooded his establishment and he lent Dalton a hand repairing the damage. An odd bond had formed between the two men and Mac often took it upon himself to get Jack out of the scrapes he sometimes found himself in. Arriving at his destination, MacGyver tethered his team to the hitching post out front, but knowing that Jack had probably just closed the saloon a few hours earlier, Mac headed to the back of the building and the owner's living quarters.
"Go away," Jack Dalton grumbled as Mac knocked on his door.
"It's MacGyver! I need to talk to you!" He continued to pound on the door until it began to swing inward.
"I'm only opening this to make the noise stop," Jack said, one hand on the doorknob, the other cradling his aching head. "C'mon in. Can I get you somethin' to drink? On second thought, nevermind...I forgot who I was talkin' to." Turning away from his friend, he grabbed a bottle of amber colored liquid and tossed back a swallow. Mac frowned. If Jack kept that up, he'd drink all his profits.
"Now what's so important that it can't wait 'til a decent hour...like this afternoon?"
"I was wondering if you knew anything about a visitor staying here in town who goes by the name 'Edward' and says he's here on business for the railroad."
Mac's question was met with red-rimmed, unseeing eyes. Sighing, he continued, "He wears a black suit, rides a black horse, and has an English accent."
Jack's eyes immediately snapped into focus. "Oh, you mean Eddie."
"Eddie?"
"Yeah, Eddie Murdoc. Comes in just about every night. Has a couple of drinks, cheats at a couple hands of poker and then disappears."
"What do you know about him?"
"I just told you. He's a quiet guy. Keeps to himself. Spends a lot of time at the inn, and is it any wonder? Those two ol' biddies over there probably wait on him hand and foot. They think 'he's so handsome and charming'," Jack replied, taking on a falsetto voice while clasping his hands to his chest and batting his eyelashes. "He comes in complainin' about the attention, but I think he secretly likes it." Jack yawned and Mac picked up on the not-so-subtle hint.
"Well, I'd best be gettin' back to the ranch," he declared before turning and heading back to his wagon. All the way home he kept replaying his conversation with Jack in his mind. "Murdoc. Why do I feel like I know that name?" he mumbled to his horses, but they had no answer.
Supper that evening was a quiet affair. MacGyver was still lost in his thoughts and Sammy, who usually provided a vivid retelling of the day's events, remained uncharacteristically silent. Anna reached for his now-empty dessert plate, breaking his reverie.
"Sammy, help your mother wash the dishes while I finish the chores," Mac directed, pushing his chair away from the table.
"She's not my mother!" the boy exclaimed, rising so quickly his chair almost fell over.
"Sammy!" Mac growled.
"I hate her and I wish you'd never married her!" his son cried before running into his bedroom and slamming the door shut. MacGyver instinctively took a step to follow, but his wife's words made him pause.
"Give him a moment," she said calmly.
"I don't get it! What has gotten into him lately?" Mac asked, hating the helplessness he knew was obvious in his voice.
Anna returned to her seat at the table, motioning for her husband to do the same. "This might have something to do with an incident at school today."
"What happened?"
"Sammy accidentally called me 'Ma' during class. All the other students started teasing and laughing at him. They stopped as soon as I reprimanded them, but Sammy had already run and locked himself in the outhouse."
"Why didn't you tell me about this?" Mac asked, jamming his fingers through his hair in frustration.
"I was hoping he'd confide in you on his own."
MacGyver blew out a breath. "Well, I guess I better go have a talk with him."
When his son didn't open the door after he tapped on it, he turned the knob, thankful it wasn't locked. The sight of Sammy lying face down on his narrow bed, his body racked with sobs, nearly did Mac in. Sitting down on the edge of the thin mattress, he stroked his boy's back hoping to bring him some comfort.
"I heard about what happened at school today," he ventured softly.
"She shouldn't have told you," Sammy mumbled into his pillow.
"Yes, she should have," Mac declared. "I'm your father and I need to know these things."
The youngster rolled over and sat up, using the heel of his hands to scrub away his tears. "I wish you'd never married her. I wanna go back to Boston."
MacGyver felt like he had just taken a hoof to his gut. He had no idea Sammy felt this way and he didn't know where to begin. "We can't go back to Boston, son. I made a promise to the government. This is our home now," Mac tried to explain. "I also made a promise to your...to Anna. I thought you were happy that we got married."
"I was," Sammy confessed. "But ever since I told Grampa about it, he's stopped writing letters to me."
Mac sighed. It would be just like his former father-in-law to feel betrayed and take it out on his grandson. That was one reason Mac had been so eager to leave Boston. Kate's father could be controlling and manipulative and he didn't want his son near the man. But what could he say to Sammy?
"Maybe Grampa is just really busy with the newspaper," MacGyver suggested. "Or maybe he and Gramma took a vacation." Like that would ever happen!
"You really think so?" Sammy asked meekly, looking up to meet Mac's gaze.
"It's a possibility."
"But you don't really believe it."
Wow, how could the little boy read him so well?
"I wanna go to sleep now."
"Don't ya think ya outta apologize to your ma first?" Mac asked.
"I ain't sure I'm sorry," Sammy stated before crawling under the covers and turning his back.
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The coming days passed achingly slow for MacGyver who was watching his happy little family fall apart at the seams with no idea how to fix it. Sammy only spoke when spoken to...if then, while Anna put on a cheerful countenance yet he knew she cried herself to sleep more than once while trying to hide her tears from him. He was plodding through his Saturday morning chores when he looked up to see his wife running towards him.
"Angus! Angus!" she called frantically. The use of his Christian name caused his heart to beat double time. Something had to be terribly wrong.
"What is it? What happened?" he asked, meeting her half-way.
"I can't find Sammy!" she huffed breathlessly. "I looked all over...his room, the outhouse, he's nowhere!"
Mac's stomach turned to lead, but he knew he had to be calm and think clearly. "Did you check the barn? I was there a few minutes ago, but he might have snuck in."
She shook her head and they both raced to the structure. Together, they checked every stall, every corner, even the hayloft, calling his name, but the barn appeared empty.
"This is all my fault!" Anna cried. "He hates me and now he's run away...or worse!"
"Now don't panic," MacGyver instructed, trying to take his own advice. "This is a big place. Maybe he just wandered off and lost track of time. I'll saddle up and go look for him. You stay here in case he comes back."
"No way! I'm comin' with you," Anna insisted. "And don't you argue with me Angus MacGyver! Two people can cover twice as much territory."
Knowing that time was of the essence, especially if Sammy was truly lost or possibly hurt, he bit his tongue and nodded his agreement. Once they had tacked up their horses they set out in opposite directions.
An hour later, Mac returned to the barn after having searched every inch of his and the surrounding land...twice. It was as if the boy had simply disappeared. He hoped Anna was having better luck in town. That was, until he spied her mare, still saddled, grazing nearby with his wife nowhere in sight. He was about to head to the house when a white piece of paper tied to the horse's bridle caught his eye. Nudging his mount closer, he reached out and snagged the note. The words he read made his blood run cold:
Greetings MacGyver,
Looking for something? Or perhaps I should say 'someone'? Your darling Anna assures me her horse will head straight home and deliver this to you. Won't you please join us at the schoolhouse so you can bid a proper farewell to your beloved family?
M~
"'M'. 'M' is for 'Murdoc'," Mac muttered under his breath causing his horse's ears to twitch. Long-buried memories sprang to the forefront of his mind and he remembered exactly who, and what, Murdoc was. Without a second thought, he urged his horse into a gallop, ruing the fact that New Hope did not yet have a sheriff. He knew he was riding into a deadly trap, but what choice did he have?
Pulling his horse to a halt in the empty schoolyard, MacGyver quickly dismounted. "C'mon out, Murdoc!" he called, his attention fixed on the front door. However, the figure he sought did not appear. He glimpsed movement to his right and turned toward a copse of trees just as Murdoc emerged, flanked by Anna and Sammy who he grasped by their upper arms, their hands tied behind their backs.
"Ah, so glad you could join us, MacGyver," Murdoc greeted him.
"Pa! Pa! I'm sorry! He said there was a package from Grampa waiting for me at the General Store and he was gonna take me to get it!" Sammy cried, trying to wrench free, but his captor only tightened his grip.
"It's okay, son," he replied calmly, the fear and guilt on the boy's face nearly ripping him in two. His wife wore a look of despair, but when his eyes locked with hers, he recognized the fire of determination burning in their depths.
"Let 'em go, Murdoc. We both know it's me you want!"
"What do you mean?" Anna demanded, her gaze darting between the two men.
"Go ahead, MacGyver. Tell her."
Mac sighed. He didn't want to dredge up memories from a lifetime ago, but he apparently had no choice. "It was 1858. I was working at Patrick Malloy's newspaper and got an anonymous tip that there was a plot to assassinate President Buchanan when he arrived in Boston to give a speech. I started asking questions and did a little investigating which helped lead to the capture of the would-be assassins. Murdoc was one of them. I assumed he was still imprisoned."
"You assumed wrong, MacGyver, but that's not why I'm here. You see, Malloy is a desperate old man. He paid handsomely to secure my release from prison on the condition that I return his only grandson to him and eliminate any loose ends."
"You mean kill me and Mac," Anna surmised.
"Exactly, my dear," Murdoc replied. "Now let's get on with it, shall we?" He shoved Anna toward MacGyver and pulled a pistol from his waistcoat.
"Noooo!" Sammy wailed, only to have Murdoc push him to the ground.
"Think about this, Murdoc," Mac advised, Anna now secure in his arms. "You don't really wanna kill two people in cold blood, do ya?"
Murdoc grinned knowingly. "You're absolutely correct, MacGyver. I would much rather leave you to live and grieve the death of your lovely wife and the departure of your dearest son. To be honest, I suggested as much to Malloy, but the old man insisted that you be disposed of as well."
"How do you plan to get away with this?" Mac challenged.
"Why must you ask so many questions? It's becoming quite annoying," Murdoc all but whined. "But if you must know, the teacher and her husband's remains will be found in the rubble of the burned down school building."
"Sounds like you planned this out well," MacGyver remarked.
"Indeed. Thanks to you, I've had a lot of time on my hands to reconsider how I go about my business. I find that I am much more effective when left to my own devices as opposed to relying on others. Now, it's time for you both to die."
"Don't move, Murdoc," Mac warned, staring at the man's feet. "There's a rattler right behind you."
"Ah, trying to distract me, eh? How stupid do you think I am?!" With that Murdoc aimed his gun at Anna and took a step to widen his stance. Quicker than lightning, the rattlesnake sprang, sinking its poisonous fangs into the assassin's leg.
"Arghhhh!" he cried, swinging the pistol downward, shooting wildly at the reptile until a bullet hit home and killed it. He staggered a few feet away before crumpling to the ground.
MacGyver rushed forward to the injured man now writhing in pain. He pulled out his pocket knife and quickly slit Murdoc's pant leg and then removed his shoe and sock. He easily found the two puncture wounds which had begun to bleed. Already the sight was becoming red and slightly swollen.
"Anna! Sammy! Get over here!" he called. They both hurried toward him and he quickly freed their hands. Anna immediately took the length of rope that had bound her and knelt on the ground, ready to tie it around Murdoc's leg to create a tourniquet.
"No!" Mac stopped her. "We need to let the blood flow."
"But the venom. It'll get in his bloodstream," she replied.
"Help me prop him up against that tree over there," MacGyver said.
Together they soon had Murdoc sitting against the trunk of the old oak. "We need to keep the wound below his heart," Mac explained.
"How do you know all this?" Anna asked, now standing with hands propped on her hips.
"I did a little research before I moved out here. Never know when somethin' will come in handy."
"What now?" she asked.
"We need to immobilize his leg," he told her. Then he looked up at Sammy who had turned pale, his mouth agape. "I need you to find me a couple twigs the length of Mister Edward's leg. Can you do that for me?" The boy nodded solemnly before running toward a stand of trees.
"Mind if I borrow this?" MacGyver asked as he reached for the hem of Anna's dress and began cutting it into strips. He had just finished when Sammy returned.
With Anna's help, Mac placed the slim tree limbs on either side of Murdoc's leg and used the cloth from Anna's dress to tie them gently in place.
"Okay, now we have to get him back to town," MacGyver declared.
"Do you think you can stand?" he asked Murdoc who had been eerily silent since getting bit. The man groaned as his body remained limp. Mac noticed sweat beginning to bead on his forehead and his breathing becoming labored.
Apologetically he looked at Anna. "You're gonna have to help me get him up and on his horse."
His wife nodded with determination and together they managed to haul Murdoc to his mount. Sammy held the reins, speaking to the horse in soothing tones to keep it calm as his parents struggled to get the weak man in the saddle. Task accomplished, Mac swung up behind Murdoc and Anna helped Sammy mount MacGyver's horse before she, too, climbed into the saddle and side-by-side they headed into town.
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Several hours later, MacGyver and Anna sat on the front porch swing with Sammy between them watching the sun slowly sink below the horizon.
"What's gonna happen to Mister Edward, Pa?"
"Well, the doc said he should recover from the snakebite and in a couple days the sheriff from a neighboring town will come and take him into custody. Hopefully for good this time," Mac replied, knowing he needed to be honest with his son if they were to live and thrive on frontier land.
"Why did you help Mister Edward even though he was gonna kill you and Ma?"
"Because it was the right thing to do," MacGyver explained. "It's not up to us to decide who lives and dies. Only God can make that decision."
"And speaking of God," Anna said, "Tomorrow is Sunday so you better get yourself ready for bed. I don't want you complaining about being too tired to go to church in the morning."
"Yes, ma'am," Sammy mumbled before looking up at her with something akin to curiosity. "Ma, why did you bother to come looking for me after all the mean things I said to you?"
Anna put her arm around the boy's shoulders and held him close. "Because I love you, sweetheart, and nothing you say or do will ever change that."
Sammy turned and threw himself into her arms, sobbing, "I love you too, Ma, and I'm sorry for all the terrible things I've said. You're the only ma I got now and I was so scared Mister Edward was gonna kill ya just because of me. I don't wanna lose you, too!"
"Don't worry, son," Mac assured him. "You're not gonna lose either of us as long as I have somethin' to say about it."
The following morning, MacGyver hitched his horses to the buckboard and drove his family into town for Sunday church services. The small, clapboard building was filled to capacity and abuzz with news of yesterday's incident. After the final prayer was said and the blessing given, the congregation filed out of the pews and gathered in small groups in the churchyard with Mac and Anna being the center of attention for many curious folk. However, they soon became aware of an anxious murmur spreading through the crowd and hurried over to Pete Thornton who was in the midst of it.
"What's going on?" MacGyver asked.
"You're not gonna believe this," Thornton replied. "Murdoc's gone!"
"How can that be?" Anna asked. "The doctor said he wouldn't be strong enough to get out of bed until tomorrow at the earliest."
Thornton shrugged, "I dunno, but he's not in his room at the inn and nobody can find him. It's like he disappeared into thin air!"
"Pa, look what I found in our wagon," Sammy said, squirming through the throng of townsfolk to hand Mac a white piece of paper.
MacGyver,
It was a pleasure to finally meet you in person, but I fear I have a schedule to keep and mustn't dally around your town any longer. Until we meet again…
M~
"I'll gather up all the able-bodied men and form a posse to go after him," Thornton offered enthusiastically. "He couldn't have gotten far in his condition."
"Don't bother, you won't find him," MacGyver stated flatly.
"How can you be so sure?" Thornton protested.
"I don't know. I just am," Mac replied before herding his wife and son to their wagon.
On the way home, MacGyver once more gave himself over to the gently swaying of the buckboard, his eyes drifting closed more than once. The last thing he remembered was giving Anna the reins before feeling her hand on his shoulder.
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MacGyver heard Joanna's voice in the distance and felt her shaking his shoulder.
"C'mon Mac, wake up. We're home."
His eyes fluttered open and he found himself staring through the windshield of the Nomad at his own garage.
"How long have I been out?" he asked, scrubbing his face with his hands.
"You were snoring before we hit the interstate," Jo told him, the dim light from the streetlamp shining on her gentle smile. "Did you have a bad dream?"
"Huh?"
"You were mumbling in your sleep and seemed kinda agitated at times so I assumed you were dreaming," she shrugged.
"It was nothing," he assured her as he reached out and stroked her cheek before leaning in and meeting her lips with his, secure in the knowledge that, in the real world, Murdoc was dead and could never hurt anyone MacGyver loved ever again.