The Guardhouse

by Sandysha

An episode tag for The Lawman. Johnny has a lot of time on his hands while waiting for the posse, looking for Al Evans to return. Emotions run high on all fronts. The story can also be found on the Lancer Fiction Gateway.

The Guardhouse by SandySha

Written for the Lancer Writer '55th Anniversary Episode Tag Celebration'
With excerpts from the original episode and script written by Laurence Heath
Many thanks to Doc (Terri Derr), my very patient beta.

Episode Tag: Lawman

I asked Mama one time what my middle name was. She was quick enough to say it was 'trouble.' I guess she was right 'cause I can't seem to stay out of it. One way or another, it finds me, and this time, I sure got myself into one hell of a fix. A few months ago, I jumped out of the frying pan when that Pinkerton agent saved my hide, and now I've ended up with the fire licking at my heels…again. Sometimes…most times, I wonder how the old man puts up with me.

When morning comes, the posse will be riding out looking for Evans. I know Scott will be with them, but I'd give anything to have him with me right now. I've only had a brother for a few short months, and there's a lot that hasn't been said between us. If Thompkins has his way, there won't be much time left …

I looked at my surroundings and wrapped my arms tightly around my chest. I'm not fond of dark, closed-in places, never have been, and don't expect I ever will. This one's no different, even though I own a third of it. Imagine being locked in your own building.

The damp, musty-smelling room can't be more than four feet by six; the only light coming into it is through a small barred window in the door. There's the thinnest Indian blanket I've ever seen covering a knotted rope cot on the long wall and a single wooden stool at the end near the door.

I felt a coldness creep over me and a shudder run the length of my body. I know it has nothing to do with the fact that all I have to keep me warm are the clothes on my back. It was as if someone had walked across my grave. The last time I felt like this, I was in a Mexican prison with nothing to look forward to except a firing squad. If they don't find Evans, this time, it'll be a noose.

Sitting alone in here, all I've got is time… time to think, and one name keeps coming to mind. Joe Barker. I'd never even heard of him until two weeks ago, and now I wish I never had.

I remember Murdoch coming home Friday a week ago, all excited. Luckily, he was in town when Billy from the telegraph office spotted him coming out of the bank. There was a telegram from one of his oldest friends, Joe Barker. It turns out Barker's a marshall in the small town of Porterville, about 240 miles south of here. He and two deputies were gonna bring a prisoner north to Sacramento to stand trial and planned to stop for a visit. At the time, I thought it was strange that Barker was going fifty miles out of his way to visit, but I kept my peace.

We don't talk much about the past at Lancer. The old man likes to think everything that happened before Scott and me came home is all in the past, but that night, we heard some tall tales about Murdoch meeting Barker in Mexico some twenty years earlier. Somehow, the old man ended up as Barker's deputy in Abilene, Kansas. To hear Murdoch tell it, Barker tamed the town almost single-handedly.

I've been to Abilene. Back in '67, I hired out to Joe McCoy when the first cattle herds started coming up the Chisholm Trial. The town was wide open, and Johnny Madrid's gun made sure Joe kept the cattle he was buying. As wild as Abilene was then, it must have been really something twenty years ago.

Scott and Teresa asked most of the questions that night. The only one I had was, what was Murdoch doing in Mexico? That surprised me. I never did get a straight answer. All Murdoch said was that money had been tight, and he went to work for Barker to keep the ranch going, then changed the subject.

When the talk turned to where Barker was going to put his prisoner while at Lancer, Murdoch told us the thick-walled adobe building near the corral was once a jail built by Don Juan Alverado, the original Spanish owners of the estancia. He said it was the county's last guardhouse, but over the past twenty-six years, it has been used mostly for storage. Sure, they'd needed it as a jail a time or two, but not that often.

Murdoch asked me…well, ordered is more like it, to get the building fixed up for Barker, and I figured, why not? At least I wasn't planting fence posts and stringing devil wire, and in the four months I'd been at Lancer, I'd never even set foot in the place. When I opened the door, I found stacks of boxes, layers of dust, cobwebs, and signs that a few varmints had set up housekeeping. I took a few steps inside and almost lost my lunch. Some of those varmints, or what was left of them, were still around. The smell hit me like Boston's fist in my gut that day by the lake.

It took me a couple of days, but by the time I finished, I have to admit it looked pretty good and smelled even better. It sure felt good when Murdoch gave me a nod of approval. Thinking back on it now, if I'd known I was going to be locked up in here, I'd have added a couple of blankets and a pillow.

.

Things were going just fine until Joe Barker showed up with his two deputies, Thompkins and Gibbs, and their prisoner, Al Evans.

I didn't remember Evans at first, and it jarred me some when he called me Madrid. My stomach was tied up in knots the whole time I was telling him the name was Johnny Lancer. I knew the day would come when my past would come knocking, but I didn't figure it to be this soon. Even when Stryker was stirring up trouble, the only one who mentioned Madrid was the old man. Maybe if Sam Stryker had known who I was…well, as Murdoch likes to say, that's past and gone.

It wasn't until after dinner that night that I figured out where I'd met Evans…Cordova. We'd hired onto a range war at the same time. I didn't remember much about the man, but he'd asked for my help. I should have followed my gut and not let my guard down. I learned the hard way not to trust anyone, and I'm not sure why I took Evans's word over Barker, but I did.

I can still hear Evans's whiny voice, "Johnny, you've gotta help me. I didn't hurt anybody. I didn't do anything." I guess he thought he had me, so he started laying it on. "I'm innocent. I don't wanta die for something I didn't do. "

"If you're innocent, the jury'll free you."

"No. I'm not gonna see any jury. He'd kill me before we get to Sacramento."

"You mean, Barker? What's he want to kill you for?"

"Johnny, you've run into lawmen like him before. They don't wait for juries." Evans paused as if he was waiting for me to agree. "This is Barker's last job. He got fired. All he wants to do is get rid of me so he can cut himself in for a piece of this ranch."

Now Evans had my attention. "Whata you mean 'cut himself in?'"

"Murdoch Lancer offered him a piece of this place. Johnny, don't you see this place isn't on the way to Sacramento? I'm telling you, they're gonna kill me."

"No one's gonna kill you, Al."

I saw a spark of hope in his eyes. "You gonna help me?"

"I got a couple of friends in Sacramento. I don't mind taking a ride."

"Yeah, that might do it."

Yeah, Evans was good. I sure didn't see him playing me.

I went straight back to the house and cornered the old man. Murdoch didn't deny he'd made the offer to Barker, but that was before me and Scott came home. He was sure Barker would understand. We left it at that, but I wasn't convinced. Murdoch might trust Barker, but I didn't then, and I sure don't now. It took some doing, but I talked Murdoch into letting me go to Sacramento with Barker and his men. The plan was to make sure Evans got there in one piece. Turns out I backed the wrong man.

I made a point of not going to the dance. I knew Teresa was gonna be disappointed, but I'm not good at being in crowds anyway. Instead, I stayed outside listening to the music and watching the guardhouse in case of trouble. When I heard the gunfire, I went running, only to have Evans take a few shots at me. I tried to stop him, sending a couple of bullets his way, but he got away. That's when I went inside and figured out what was going on. I was bending over Gibbs' body when someone knocked me out. When I came to, Thompkins was there, with a gun pointed at my heart, and telling me to drop my gun or he'd kill me.

Cipriano, Frank, and a half dozen ranch hands came running in. I looked at Thompkins and knew who I needed. "Frank, go get Murdoch."

Frank didn't need telling twice.

A lot had happened, but short story: Somehow, Evans broke out, killed Gibbs, and high-tailed it for parts unknown, leaving me with a knot on my head, a headache, and holding the bag. Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The next thing I knew, Thompkins shoved me, not too gently, in here and slammed the door.

Thompkins was all for riding out right then and dragging me to Sacramento. It wasn't until Murdoch set Frank to watch me that the deputy agreed to leave me in the cell and go after Evans at sun up.

A little later, I heard a squeak as the outside door opened, and then heard Cipriano's voice. "Hola, Frank."

"Cipriano, what's going on?"

"Nada, mi amigo. I think I will watch over Juanito tonight as well."

"There's no need," Frank replied. "I can watch him. I promised Mr. Lancer he wasn't going anywhere."

"Si, I know, but I think maybe you will need more …help… in case Senor Barker and Senor Thompkins change their minds and decide to leave for Sacramento tonight."

I couldn't see Frank's face but understood what was happening when he spoke again. "Yeah, I think you're right, Cip. We wouldn't want them going anywhere until we find Evans."

I settled down to wait for if I could sleep, I'd wake up and find this was all a bad dream, but no matter how tired I am or how hard I try, it's not gonna happen. I lay here, straining to hear what Frank and Cipriano were saying. Everyone knows lawmen don't take to one of their own getting killed. I heard Cipriano say he'd put guards outside in case Barker or Thompkins decided to take the law into their own hands. I felt some better when I figured out Lancer men were watching out for me. Funny, guards are there to protect me from the law instead of protecting others from a if it was dark and tight in here, it felt good knowing the men out there were loyal to the brand.

.

The sound of men calling to each other and horses snorting filtered through the walls. I knew it must be morning, and the posse would be heading out soon. I heard the outside door open, and then Frank opened the door to the cell.

"Johnny, Miss Teresa brought you your breakfast."

I rolled over and scooted up on the cot. Behind Frank, I saw Teresa standing in the middle of the room with a sad smile.

"Thanks, Teresa."

She gave me a small wave. "Let Frank know if you need anything else."

She hurried out before I could ask her if Murdoch or Scott were coming in to check on me. After she left, I looked at what she'd brought. I know she and Maria had to have been up early to get breakfast going before everyone left to search for Evans. The women must have thought I was going to starve 'cause there was a double helping of everything. It sure looked good, but when I took a bite, it felt like I was chewing sawdust.

A few minutes later, I heard the posse riding out. Any appetite I had was gone. With a six-hour head start, it will be hard for them to track Evans, and if they don't find him… well, I'm not going there right now.

Frank came in to get the tray. Looking at the almost untouched plate, he shook his head. "You sure didn't eat much."

"Not hungry, Frank."

"Johnny…"

"Frank?"

"Johnny, me and the fellows know you didn't kill Gibbs."

I managed a weak smile. "Thanks. It means a lot that you believe me."

"What I'm saying is I could leave the door unlocked and make sure everyone is doing something else. Barranca—"

"No." I held up a hand. "Frank, hold on. I appreciate it, but Murdoch gave his word that you'd make sure I didn't take off."

"But…"

"Frank…"

"Johnny, if they don't find Evans, Barker and Thompkins won't have no choice but to take you to Sacramento. Mr. Lancer may have faith in the law, but I don't. Look, I've known the boss a long time. When you and Scott came home, I think it was the happiest I'd ever seen him. I know seeing you swinging would kill him."

I dipped my head and took a deep breath. All I could do was nod.

"Just think on it, Johnny."

Frank walked out and shut the door. When I heard the latch click, it felt like the walls were closing in on me again. As much as I don't want to admit it, this thing has me worried. If they don't find Evans, there's a good chance I will swing once they get me to Sacramento.

I've seen my share of hangings. The first time, I was five, and we were living in a small border town in Texas. It was like a fiesta with music and laughter. When it came time for the hanging, everyone swarmed around the gallows. I pushed my way to the front of the crowd and watched a bearded, beaten-down man slowly shuffle from the jail and up the steps to the gallows. His footsteps sounded hollow as he walked across the platform and stood over the trap door. I looked up, and he was staring at me. For the first time, I saw he was a mestizo with blue eyes like mine. I saw those eyes widen with fear just before they put a hood over his head. The man struggled when they put the rope around his neck and pulled it tight. Then the trap door opened, and he fell… his neck should have broken, but it didn't. There was a horrible gagging sound, and the crowd went quiet. I couldn't take my eyes off his legs as they flayed in all directions, searching for purchase that wasn't there.

When his legs stilled, I heard a brief noise…a 'plop' and saw a small puff of dirt form into a crater under him. A drop of water had run off the toe of his boot and hit the ground. When a second drop fell, and the smell of urine filled the air, I was horrified, knowing the last mortal thing that man did was piss himself. I suddenly felt ashamed of myself for being there.

I never wanted to see that again, but sometimes, we don't get what we wish for. Yeah, I've seen men swing… more than once. The thought of Murdoch and Scott watching me take those last steps and then…Dios, what if my neck doesn't snap? No, I wouldn't want them there. I don't want them to see —.

Stop it! Damn, a man could drive himself crazy thinking like that.

.

I knew it was getting late in the morning, and no one was telling me anything. I looked at the closed door and wondered what was happening. I'm disappointed Murdoch or Scott hadn't taken the time to poke their heads in to check on me. It's got me thinking that maybe they really believe Thompkins, and they've just plain given up on me.

I was feeling pretty low when the outside door opened again, and I heard Murdoch's voice. "I'd like to see Johnny." I heard him walking towards the cell door and took a deep breath. "It's alright. You boys can take off for a while."

I could feel myself smiling when the door opened, and he stepped in, his bulk filling the small door frame.

"Hi." He smiled back, and I felt the knot in my chest loosen for the first time since Evans took a shot at me and rode away.

"Murdoch." I shifted to the end of the cot, hoping he'd sit next to me. "What's happening?"

"Nothing."

Well, that wasn't what I wanted to hear.

"You get your breakfast?"

"Oh, yeah." I couldn't help grinning. "Teresa woke me up with it. She had ham and eggs, coffee… the whole works. You know." I didn't have the heart to tell him I couldn't eat it.

Murdoch sat on the wooden stool next to me. Looking at him, I could tell something was on his mind. I just wasn't sure what.

The old man leaned forward a little. "Scott's still out on the posse. He ought to be back soon."

I figured as much. "Well, don't you think he'd been back sooner than this… if they'd found him?"

Not looking at me, Murdoch responded, "You know… there's a chance they… won't find Evans." Then he turned his head to look me in the eyes. "I think we should face up to that. And if they don't find him, it's going to be awfully hard to prove your innocence."

That knot was back in my chest. "You sound like you're trying to tell me something."

"Well, I just… Well, I want you to understand fully how bad it'll be if they don't find him."

"Chances are looking pretty slim." I couldn't keep my hands still. The beaded bracelet on my right wrist took a beating as I took it off and put it back on. "You know, with a fast horse, Evans could be in Mexico in a couple of days."

I was surprised as hell when Murdoch said, "So could you, Johnny."

I looked at my old man, and my heart fell. Here I thought he'd come because… well, I'd hoped… hell, I don't know what I was hoping for, but it wasn't him giving me a chance to ride away before the posse got back. I saw the expression on his face and knew he was going against everything he'd always believed. Murdoch Lancer was as straight as an arrow when it came to the law. I know it took a lot for him to make the offer. Still, I felt a little disappointed. Maybe he didn't have as much faith in me being innocent as I thought. Was this his way of getting rid of a bad penny? Well, I wasn't going to make it that easy.

"Is that why you came here? To give me the chance to escape?"

"It's your decision. You have to make it." Then, in almost a whisper, "Think about it."

I looked at him, wondering what he wanted to hear. "No, I already have. I'm not gonna run."

The look on Murdoch's face told me I'd said the right thing. I felt a slight flutter around that knot in my chest. For the first time since I came home, I saw pride in my father's eyes. That's when I knew it was what I wanted, too. I'd been running most of my life from one thing or another. I wasn't gonna run from this. I owed that much to both of us.

I didn't know Barker was standing outside, listening to every word we said, until he opened the door and started yelling, "You're a fool, Johnny. A lawman was killed last night, don't you know what that means? You know how much of a chance you'll have when they get you up to Sacramento? Why, with Thompkins' testimony, they'll railroad you onto that scaffold so fast it'll make your eyeballs rattle."

Now I was mad. "Barker, you make it sound like you've already given up on Evans."

But Barker wasn't interested in what I had to say. I knew who he wanted to sway. "Murdoch, if you've got any sense, you'll hustle that son of yours onto a horse and beat his tail out of here."

"Joe—"

"But he doesn't know what's right for him. Can't you see that?"

"He knows what's right for him. We both do."

Barker stormed away, and Murdoch looked back at me. His voice softened, "I had to ask. You understand that, don't you?"

All I could muster was a weak "Sure."

I don't think either of us knew what to do or say. We still don't know each other well enough to show emotion. It just wasn't in either of us. The best the old man could come up with was a hard slap to my leg and saying, "We'll clear you of this. I know we will."

I wasn't sure how I felt after he left, and the door was closed and locked. My old man cared enough about me to offer me a way out. He was willing to let me go. I sure hope I made the right decision.

.

A few hours later, the outside door squeaked open. I couldn't help but laugh. That door had gotten more use in the last two days than it had in the past twenty-six years.

I heard a soft voice talking to the guard. The cell door opened, and Teresa marched in carrying a covered tray. I hadn't even thought about lunch, wasn't hungry at breakfast, wasn't now. Without a word, she looked back at Cipriano and nodded. He closed the door, but I could tell he didn't lock it.

"I thought you'd be hungry." Teresa sat the tray on the cot and pushed it my way. "You hardly ate any of the breakfast Maria and I fixed for you."

"I really don't have much of an appetite."

She sat down next to me. "But you have to eat. Johnny…" Tears were pooling in her eyes.

I put an arm around her shoulders. "It's alright, querida. Everything's gonna be alright."

She raised her head and looked me straight in the eyes. "Johnny, I'm so scared. I know you didn't shoot Mr. Gibbs and set Evans free. Surely, Mr. Barker can see that."

"I wish he could, but even if he did, Thompkins won't. He found me kneeling over the body with a gun in my hand."

"Murdoch told me what you said about finding Mr. Gibbs and explained why two bullets were missing from your gun."

I pulled her in a tight hug and laughed, "I wish you were gonna be the judge in Sacramento."

"Don't laugh. It isn't funny. I heard Murdoch and Mr. Barker arguing in the Great Room. Mr. Barker told Murdoch he needed to let you go and that you could be in Mexico in a few days. Murdoch said he wouldn't make you a fugitive. Mr. Barker said it wasn't Murdoch's decision. It was yours."

That's when it hit me. That's where Murdoch got the idea. He was willing to let me decide if I wanted to get away, not because he was sure I was innocent, but because Barker suggested it. Well, I sure hope I passed the old man's test. No matter. I made my decision, and I'll live with it…I hope.

I looked at Teresa and knew she was waiting for an answer. "I'm not running, Teresa. I know what that kind of life is like."

"But…"

"No." I put a finger to her lips. "Murdoch trusts in Barker and the law. As much as I hate to admit it, I have to trust Murdoch. Scott and the others will find Evans. Now, you go back inside and try to relax."

"I can't relax. Scott came back with Barker, but then he rode out again alone. Murdoch and Mr. Barker went after him. It's been hours, and they still haven't come back."

"They'll be back when they catch Evans. Now, go on back to the house. This is no place for you."

She looked around the cell, and I could see her visibly shiver. "I never liked this place, even when I was little. Daddy always told me to stay out of here."

I laughed, "I can understand why."

She stood and started to go. I picked up the still-covered tray and held it out to her. "Better take this with you."

She looked at the tray and hesitated. When I saw her blush, I had a feeling she wanted to tell me something. I sat the tray down again and lifted the corner of the checkered cloth covering the tray. Next to the plate of food lay a folded napkin. I raised it and spotted a small derringer I recognized as the one Murdoch kept in his desk drawer.

Dropping the cloth, I looked at her. "You, too?"

"Me too, what?"

"Teresa—"

"No, wait, Johnny. I think Mr. Barker's right. You have to leave before everyone gets back. You could be safe in Mexico in a few days."

"Teresa, in case you've forgotten, Mexico ain't exactly safe for me any more than Sacramento would be."

She heaved a sigh and picked up the tray. "Alright, but I think you're wrong."

"Maybe, but right now, this is the right thing to do." I pointed at the tray. "Be sure to put that back where you found it."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. Now go on and… Teresa, tell Scott to come see me when he gets back."

"I will." She bent over and kissed me on the cheek.

When Cipriano opened the door, Teresa looked at him and shook her head. He looked at me hard before pushing the door closed. I didn't hear it lock. It looked like everyone was trying to get me to hightail it out of there. Maybe I should, but this time, my guts told me I was doing the right thing. I had to trust the man I'd spent my entire life hating. Deep down, I knew Murdoch wouldn't let me down.

After Teresa left, I leaned against the rough brick wall, pulled my knees up to my chest, looked around the small, dark cell, and felt that shudder again. Well, there was nothing I could do while cooling my heels in here. All I can do is wait. Wait for someone, anyone, to catch Evans, bring him in and clear this mess up. At least I knew that everyone had my back, and if it came to it, there were parts of Mexico where I could still show my face and not get shot… or hung.

End
August 2023

Author's notes:

The show's writers had a hard time with places and times. That was especially true when it came to Abilene, Kansas.

Before 1860, Abilene didn't exist except as a stage stop named Mud Creek. In 1867, Joseph McCoy built a hotel, a stable, and the town's first stockyards next to the Kansas Pacific Railway tracks. That same year, Abilene became the final destination of cattle herds driven up the Chisholm Trail from Texas. In 1871, more than 5,000 cowboys herded from 600,000 to 700,000 cows to Abilene and other Kansas railheads. Abilene was known as an 'anything goes' town and was one of the wildest towns in the West.

There is an Abilene, Texas, but it didn't exist until 1881. It also was a shipping point for cattle, named after Abilene, Kansas.

Neither town would have exited in 1850, twenty years before the events in The Lawman.