Sons, Sisters, and Social Conventions

Chapter 1

"Evening, Teresa."

"Good evening, Johhny."

Johhny slid onto his usual seat at the table. Hearing the clock chime seven, he looked at his father and grinned smugly.

"Something smells wonderful." Scott quickly picked up a platter of enchiladas and handed them to Murdock. "I am hungry enough to eat a bear."

"You ever actually eaten bear, brother?"

"Um, no."

"Ain't too bad, a mite tough though most times."

"I would say that generally depends on the age of the bear." Murdoch managed to catch his younger son's eyes and hold them for several seconds before passing him the platter.

Johnny dropped his eyes to his plate as he filled it. "Well, yeah. Bears do get tougher with age."

"In more ways than one." Murdoch's voice contained a touch of both admonition and challenge.

"I can't remember bear ever being served at Lancer, so let's enjoy this beef." Teresa picked up the serving platter nearest her and sent it around the table. The four of them were soon eating companionably.

As the meal concluded, and Johnny and Scott rose, Murdoch cleared his throat. "I need to speak to you a moment." His sons shot looks across the table and sat down again. "We will be having houseguests. They will be arriving on the Friday afternoon stage. Scott, I would like you and Johnny to meet them."

"That shouldn't be a problem, sir."

"Good." Murdoch cleared his throat. "Though Saturday nights are usually your own, I would like you to be here at Lancer. The MacPhersons will be here for both business and pleasure."

"Of course, sir."

"Fine." Johnny's reply was softer than Scott's but held no edge.

"Good." Murdoch seemed to hesitate slightly before he continued. "John, I would like you to accompany us to church Sunday morning."

Johnny's head snapped up as both his spine and his jaw stiffened. "I'm a Catholic, Murdoch."

"Am I wrong in believing that the Pope has not forbidden Catholics from entering other churches?"

"No, but..."

"Then I see no reason for you not to attend."

"And if I do?"

Scott looked from his brother's face to his father's. "I don't think you need worry about not being welcome, Johnny."

"Of course, you'd be welcome." Tereasa's voice held a strained cheerfulness.

Johnny turned and stared directly at Murdoch. "Are you asking or tune-calling, old man?"

"I would hope that an invitation to join your family in a house of God wouldn't be viewed as an onerous order." Murdoch's voice held admonishment and beneath that a deeper strain.

Johnny dropped his eyes. "Lo siento . I'll..." Johny cleared his throat. "Since I won't be in town all Saturday night, I guess church Sunday morning shouldn't be a problem. That all?"

"Yes."

"I've some things to do in the stable." Johnny departed swiftly while those remaining pondered the fact that Johnny attending church with them was obviously a large problem for him.

(L)(L)(L)(L)(L)(L)(L)

Johnny opened the door to his brother's room and leaned against the door jamb. "What does onerous mean, Boston?"

"Overly burdensome or unpleasant."

"Guessed as much." Johnny walked over and settled against the edge of Scott's desk. "Our old man knows as many ten-dollar words as you do, college man."

"Murdoch's very well-read. College isn't the only place to acquire knowledge."

"Yeah. Look at how many fancy words I've learned just from being around you and Murdoch."

"You're fluent in two languages, brother."

"See, you make the fact I can speak Spanish and English sound like something special."

"It is. Most people speak only one."

"Old man can speak three."

"So, he can, and he speaks his English without a brogue. The Lancers must have an affinity for languages."

"Meaning they pick them up easy and well? You're doing fine picking up Spanish."

"I need to around here, or I'd never know what people are saying behind my back while speaking in front of my face."

"Well, you translate them college words for me, and I'll translate the Spanish for you."

"Except when you're the one speaking Spanish to keep things from me."

Johnny grinned. "Then you'll have to get the old man to do the translating." Johnny's fingers drummed his thigh. "Why do you think Murdoch's wanting to impress those MacPhersons?" Scott shrugged. "Seems like it's important to him." Johhny's fingers drummed the desk. "I was thinking, well, that it might be best if I took a little trip."

"Starting Friday and lasting as long as the MacPhersons stay."

"Well, yea."

"I'd say that our old man would not agree."

"You could explain how it really is. There's plenty Lancer business I could see to around about."

"That would be difficult as I don't think it would be best. You think Murdoch wants to impress the MacPhersons; I think he wants to flaunt both his sons."

"I think he'd do better to save his flaunting for the Havard-educated Calvery officer and member of Boston society."

"John." Scott's voice radiated admonishment.

"That only works for the old man, brother."

"Murdoch..."

"Won't be flaunting the fact that I was a pistolero."

"Johnny, don't..."

"Don't state the truth?"

Scott took in and then let out a slow breath. "Murdoch made it clear he wants you here while the MacPhersons are, so if you value your hide, my advice is that you accept that fact."

"And just let her buck?" Johnny stood up. "If I have to slip off, you'll let the old man know I'm not gone for good?"

Scott opened his mouth to answer, closed it, and then sighed. "Yes."

"Thanks, brother." Scott watched Johnny depart while still shaking his head.