CONCLUSION
Scott's revelation that "It was . . . Senora Maria" who had told him to meet Johnny at Grand Creek at two o'clock was met with consternation from those men present who were not at all certain who she was. Johnny was momentarily stunned by the news. He recovered quickly, however, and demanded to know exactly what the beloved Lancer cook had said.
Looking wearier than ever, Scott stood lost in thought, trying to recall the details of what Maria had told him that morning, a moment in time that now seemed to be so very far distant. He pensively rubbed at the growth of beard decorating his jaw line as the recollection slowly returned, along with a growing certainty that his brother was not going to welcome what he had to say. Looking up at Johnny with a guarded expression, Scott slowly explained.
"She said that Chad had been looking for me, that Murdoch had sent him to tell me that you'd be somewhere else at noon, and that our meeting time would have to be later. At two. Maria knew that I'd be coming into the kitchen to get the lunch she'd made and . . .well, I assume that she offered to pass the word along. Which she did."
"Chad, huh?" Johnny said, turning away.
Scott quickly stepped closer to the bars of his brother's cell. "That's what Maria told me, Johnny. I'm not saying that Chad was the one who . ."
"Coulda been," Johnny interrupted harshly, turning back to stare at his brother. "Murdoch sure didn't know nothin' 'bout a time change. I mentioned it enough, how I'd been there right at noon. And Chad was workin' by himself the whole day, riding the fence line-I remember cause . . " Johnny paused, folded his arms, and looked down at the floor. "Cause I was kinda glad ta see that Murdoch was givin' him some responsibility, . . . trustin' 'im," he finished in a harsh tone.
"That still doesn't prove . ." Scott began again, but Johnny interrupted him. "Scott, did you see Chad at all that mornin'?"
Scott thought for a moment before he replied. "No, I didn't."
"Well, he saw you. When we found a piece of your shirt in the creek, Chad was the only one of us could say for sure what color shirt you'd been wearin'."
The men considered the significance of that information for a moment, until Will Hayford broke the silence with a question. "This cousin of yours, he does live in the main house, right?" he asked Scott.
"Yes, his room is next to Johnny's."
"So he could have taken the button from his shirt, dropped it in the clearing."
"If you hadn't picked it up off the ground, Chad probably would have," Scott agreed.
"Well, Scott, I guess Chad's smarter'n we gave him credit for," Johnny said grimly. The brothers exchanged a look, but whatever response Scott had in mind was drowned out by a series of questions from the other three men.
"But what would this Chad person have against Scotty?" Harlan Garrett demanded.
"That's what I was wondering, too," Jarrod quickly added from his seat beside Scott's grandfather.
"And why would he go to so much trouble to make it look as if Johnny was the guilty party?" Will asked. Fixing his one-eyed gaze directly on the man in the cell, he added, "The two of you seemed to be quite close."
Scott also regarded his brother intently. "You do know him better than I do," he said, in a mildly apologetic tone, preferring to hear what Johnny had to say on the matter before offering his own opinion.
Johnny looked down at the floor, avoiding the scrutiny of the other men. "I'm guessin' it hasta be because of Callie. He must still hold it against me that she got shot."
"And who is Callie?" Scott's grandfather demanded. The elderly man seemed rather exasperated by the introduction of yet another unfamiliar name into the conversation.
With a sigh, Scott explained. "Callie was Chad's sister."
"Chad thought it was me comin' after 'im, and he shot her by accident," Johnny added softly.
Jarrod Barkley did not hide his surprise at this information. "So Chad has tried to kill you before?" he asked, rising from his wooden chair and stepping closer to the cell.
Johnny nodded, grasped the bars loosely with both hands and thought about how to explain. "Callie . . she and I, well, we kinda had a misunderstandin'; somehow she got the idea I was in love with her. When she found out that weren't the way it was, she was real angry, told Chad some things 'bout me. He thought he was . . defendin' her honor or somethin', tryin' ta get even with me." Although he addressed Jarrod, Johnny's gaze swept over the other men. "She was runnin' to tell him the truth, when he shot her," he said simply.
Johnny still clearly remembered Callie's dying words, what she had told Chad. She'd said: "You are my older sister Ann's boy. And she ran off with a . . Lancre. Ann died and Paw raised ya like his own." He softly explained to his listeners the news that Chad had heard from the "sister" he had killed.
Johnny still clearly remembered Callie's dying words, what she had told Chad. She'd said: "You are my older sister Ann's boy. And she ran off with a . . Lancre. Ann died and Paw raised ya like his own." He softly explained to his listeners that Chad had learned his true identity from the "sister" he had killed.
As the other men listened attentively to the story, the dark haired young man tilted his head and continued. "Chad took it hard. But he said he didn't blame me. Murdoch and me convinced him he should stay on at Lancer." Looking directly at Scott, Johnny added one more piece. "Looks like you were right, not ta trust him."
"So his motive was revenge," Will said musingly. "He killed his own . . ."sister", but blamed you for her death--- and then he tries, fittingly he thinks, to make it look as if you killed your brother."
"I guess," was all Johnny said in reply, but his thoughts were whirling through the events of the past few months. His cousin sure had acted as if all had been forgiven. Johnny remembered how supportive Chad had been ever since Scott's disappearance, but before that, he'd had a lot to say against Scott. Calling him "uppity", "bossy", a "Yankee", and telling some stories that probably hadn't been true. Even though Johnny agreed that he'd most likely been Chad's real target, he figured that Chad probably hadn't minded hitting Scott over the head one little bit. He now mentally berated himself for being taken in by Chad's seeming gratitude, but knew that he had to hand it to his "cousin" for doing such a good job of biding his time and hiding his anger. Though now that he thought about it, Johnny had gotten a few good glimpses of that rage inside of Chad, first with the events surrounding Callie's accusations and her death, and again, when Johnny had destroyed that foolish flying machine. He recalled thinking even then that it was a good thing Chad was usually so even tempered; the memory of the look in his cousin's eyes left Johnny without any doubt that Chad could be the would-be killer.
"Well, this man needs to be taken into custody," Harlan huffed impatiently. "Immediately!"
Jarrod turned back to look down at the seated man with a nod of agreement before asking a question of Johnny. "Is he staying at the hotel with Murdoch?"
"Yeah, with Murdoch an' Teresa n' Jelly," Johnny informed him.
Will fired a question at the other brother. "Scott-did you send a wire to your father?"
Scott regarded Will with an expression of mild surprise, then slowly shook his head. "No, I was coming directly here and, well, I wasn't sure where he was staying."
"That's good," Will assured him. "Then Chad doesn't know you're here, that you survived."
Scott agreed, but his next words immediately reawakened his grandfather's concern. "No, he doesn't . . .not unless Cipriano sent word after I left the ranch."
"If this Chad knows that, then Scotty could still be in danger!"
"That's true, Mr. Garrett," Will acknowledged. "But even if Chad knows that Scott survived, he doesn't know that Scott realizes who changed the time for the meeting. You know, Chad can't even be certain that Scott didn't catch a glimpse of him before he went into the creek."
Scott thought that he could see where his old friend was going with this. "Then, perhaps if I could take him by surprise, he might say something, give himself away."
Jarrod was also following that line of thinking. "That's the surest, quickest means of getting Johnny released, a confession from the true assailant."
"It would be best if it was in front of witnesses, several of them . . ." Will suggested.
"You mean tomorrow, in court?" Johnny asked.
Will shook his head. "No, too many people, I think, the focus needs to be on Chad. And trying to get him angry or worried enough to make a mistake. It would be best if we could have someone official present, Scott when you confront Chad-like say, Judge Blackwell---."
"Confront!" Harlan exclaimed with displeasure just as Johnny spoke to his brother with quiet intensity. "Scott, I wanta be there."
Scott nodded. He knew that he would feel the same way if the brothers' roles were reversed. "What if we sent word now, asked Chad to come here?" he asked, addressing his inquiry to Johnny as well as the two attorneys.
"Visiting hours are almost over and we still need to talk to the judge," Will pointed out.
Jarrod offered another concern. "I would think also that we don't want to do anything to make Chad suspicious."
"Yeah, like sendin' 'specially for him . ." Johnny had to agree, but he knew that he would risk alerting their cousin if it was the only way that he could be present when the 'confrontation' took place. Not only did he share some of Harlan's concerns for Scott if his brother were to face his attacker alone, but Johnny needed his own opportunity to face Chad.
"If Scott goes to the hotel to confront Chad . . ." Jarrod started to say.
"Then Johnny won't be there."
"I'm afraid you're right, Scott. But I can't see the Judge letting him leave the jail, even if he is in custody."
There was a brief silence. Evidently, Will Hayford had been formulating a plan, which he carefully proposed to Scott. "What if. . . you were at the courthouse early tomorrow, if Mr. Barkley told your father that Johnny wanted to meet with him and your cousin before the session began. That way it's not just Chad who is being sent for, and your brother would be there as well."
"And the judge?" Scott asked, while his grandfather hastily added "And some officers to take this Chad person into custody!"
"That might work," was Jarrod's assessment. "We could probably get permission to bring Johnny over to the courthouse early."
"Then Mr. Barkley, what if you go and confer with Mr. Reed-he'll know how to get in touch with Marcus Webster. I'll bring Scott to Judge Blackwell's residence. If the Judge is agreeable, then you can convey the invitation to Mr.Lancer. Of course the Judge will need to talk to you, Scott, but after that, you'll have to stay out of sight."
"He'll come back to the hotel and stay with me," Harlan said quickly.
Scott expressed one concern. "If by some chance Cipriano did send a wire, then Jarrod will find that out when he talks to Murdoch; and that could alter our plan."
"True," Will agreed. "Let's assume for now that he didn't."
"If Murdoch had any news 'bout Scott, he'd be here." Recognizing the truth of Johnny's assertion, the men prepared to set their plan into motion.
As Jarrod Barkley headed towards the door leading out of the cell block, Scott stopped him. "Jarrod," he said quietly, When you do talk to Murdoch, perhaps you can speak to him privately, let him know that I'm here-"
"That might not be a good idea," Johnny said, interrupting his brother. In response to Scott's questioning look, Johnny explained. "Murdoch'd wanta tell Teresa n' Jelly right off,.. . . ."
Scott nodded in quick comprehension. "Chad would find out."
"And if Jarrod tells Murdoch why he can't let Chad know, there's no tellin' what he might do ta Chad."
"That's a good point," Scott conceded.
The men prepared to go about setting their plan in motion. Will Hayford started towards the exit in conversation with Jarrod Barkley, outlining directions to the judge's residence in the off chance that Barkley was unable to quickly locate Nicholas Reed and inform him of the startling new developments in the case. Looking back over his shoulder, the man with the eye patch told Scott that he would wait for him outside and politely told "Mr. Garrett" that he would see him back at the hotel. Will looked for a moment as if he wished to say something more, but finished by simply stating "We'll talk." It was not completely clear which of the three men he was addressing, but it was Scott who replied. "Yes, we will." The blond man with the black sling stood motionless, watching even after Will Hayford had disappeared from view.
With a small shake of his head, Scott turned back to his brother, who was leaning against the bars of his cell regarding him intently. It struck Johnny once more-how tired Scott's eyes looked, and how sad. Well, there sure wasn't much for 'im to be happy about, not at the moment. Johnny addressed his older brother in a soft, drawling voice. "Looks like you could use some rest, Boston. You get back from talkin' to the judge, maybe you'd better just let your grandfather here take care of ya."
Harlan Garrett rose slowly and somewhat stiffly from the wooden straight backed chair in which he had been ensconced. He regarded Scott expectantly, although the elderly man waited for his grandson's reply with uncharacteristic patience.
"You'll be out of there soon, Johnny," Scott said, seemingly as much to reassure himself as his younger brother.
"It's startin' ta look that way," was Johnny's quick rejoinder, voicing more confidence than he truly felt. After all, Chad had fooled every one of them so far, he might somehow manage to continue to do so-assuming, of course, that he 'd really been the one to attack Scott in the first place.
"Come, Scotty," Harlan said in a concerned tone, grasping Scott's good arm. "While you and William go to see the judge, I'll make arrangements at the hotel. I'm sure you'll want a bath, something to eat."
Scott looked gratefully down at his grandfather. "I could use a drink," he said, a slight smile playing about his lips as he heard the echo of Murdoch's voice in his own words.
"You have one for me, too," Johnny instructed him jokingly, then regretted it as Scott's mouth resumed its grim line. "Bye, Scott. See you in the morning."
"Good night, Brother," was Scott's reluctant answer. The blond man turned to leave, looking down at his grandfather and then somewhat tentatively placing his right hand on the older gentleman's shoulder, gently guiding him towards the door.
"Hey, Boston."
"Yes?"
"You watch your back, now."
Scott exhaled. In a characteristic motion, he glanced briefly at the floor, before looking up to meet Johnny's gaze. "I think I can manage to do that-for another few hours at least."
Johnny's eyes glimmered in understanding and he softly bid his older brother a good night.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
The next morning, Jarrod Barkley was standing outside the doors of the courtroom waiting to intercept Murdoch and Chad. He greeted the two men and then told the senior Lancer that there were a few papers for him to sign. "And then Murdoch, I'd like to have a word with you in private." Ignoring Murdoch Lancer's raised eyebrow, Jarrod turned to Chad.
"Chad, why don't you go on inside; Johnny's waiting for you."
"Shore thing, Mista Barkley."
Inside the large courtroom, Johnny Lancer was seated alone at the defense table, dressed in his dark suit. Johnny drawled a greeting and Chad responded in kind. Chad's booted footsteps echoed in the empty room as he walked up the aisle.
"So it's closin' argumints taday, Johnny?"
"Yeah, Chad my lawyer even has a big surprise."
"What's that, Johnny?"
"I've got a special witness....judge even approved him."
"Who's that?"
"Well, Chad, you remember Scott . . . ."
The door to a small conference room opened and Scott Lancer stepped into the courtroom. Chad stared openmouthed, looking as if he had seen a ghost. Only where ghosts were usually pale white, this one had blond hair, a blue shirt and had one arm cradled in a black sling.
"Hello, Chad."
"Scott! . . .yur. . . yur. . . alaive!"
"Are you happy to see me, Chad?"
"Well, a course Ah am!" he replied with a big grin. "Ah mean, I allas said you weren't half bad for a Yankee!"
Chad smiled in a conspiratorial manner at Johnny. "Ol' Scott's kinda hard ta take sometimes, but we shore are glad ta have him back, ain't we Johnny?" Chad started towards Scott. "Corse I'm glad ta see ya again, cuzin."
"Again? Well, you were the last one to see me. . . . at two o'clock."
Chad looked from the cold blue eyes of one Lancer brother to the other. It was Johnny who finally spoke. "I sure wish you'd told me about the change in time, Chad. Then I could have been there to watch my brother's back."
Dark rage colored Chad Lancer's handsome face. "Oh yeah, you and yur precious brother. Who thinks he's jist better'n alla tha rest of us!"
"Now, Chad," Johnny said, as he slowly rose from his seat. "I don't believe Scott was the one you were really angry at. I'm guessin' it was me."
"Damn right! Yur nothin' but a cold blooded killa!" The tall Kentuckian's angry voice reverberated off the walls of the courtroom.
"But you know I didn't kill Callie," Johnny said quietly.
"It's all because of you that she's daid!"
"You're the one pulled the trigger. But we all know it was an accident, Chad. Besides, you even told me that you didn't hold it against me."
"Mebbe I lied to ya, Johnny. Did you really think I could fergit Callie that easy?"
"We know you haven't forgotten her, Chad. But your problem was with me, you had no call to go after Scott."
"Ah'd neva fergit Callie, she was kin! An' us mountain folks've got long memories, 'specially when it comes ta kin. Don't matter how long it takes. Ain't you neva heard of an eye fer an eye, Johnny? Ah wanted you ta know what it felt laike."
"It's over, Chad." Johnny spoke quietly. "There are a couple-"
"It's ova fer you!"
Chad reached to his waistband and pulled out a gun. Scott Lancer, who had been listening to the exchange in silence, quickly yelled at Johnny to "look out!" Johnny dove to the floor as the weapon discharged. Before Chad could aim a second bullet at his brother, Scott swiftly returned fired with the gun he had had hidden in his sling. A stunned look crossed Chad's face as he staggered backwards and then fell against the judge's bench, slowly crumbling to the floor.
Two lawman burst in from a side room, as Jarrod and Murdoch hurried in through the main doors. Nicholas Reed, Marcus Webster, Will Hayford and Judge Timothy Blackwell had also been in the wings and had heard the entire exchange between Johnny Lancer and his cousin. The law officers holstered their weapons as they realized they were too late.
"Scott!" Murdoch greeted his elder son, squeezing his shoulder. "I've never been happier to see you." He nodded towards Jarrod Barkley. "Jarrod already filled me in . . "
"Thank you, sir," Scott replied. "It's good to be back." Murdoch and Scott slowly walked over to where Chad was lying on the floor. Johnny was standing over him, and Scott noticed that there was blood on his brother's sleeve. "You were hit."
"It's nothing, just a graze," Johnny replied. "I've had worse. Good shooting, Brother." A gleam of recognition entered Johnny's blue eyes as he noticed the familiar gun dangling from Scott's right hand
"We took that boy in," Murdoch said, looking at Chad's still form. He shook his white head. "Gave him a home."
"Murdoch, why don't you take Johnny over there to sit down," Scott suggested, a concerned look passing between father and son. This had to be very difficult for the youngest Lancer. After all, he had considered Chad a friend and he been betrayed by him.
The attorneys and Judge Blackwell were already discussing the process of having all charges against Johnny Lancer dropped. Will watched as Johnny and Murdoch turned away from the body, and then came up to stand beside Scott.
"Well, that's the answer to the last question," Will commented after a moment.
"What's that?"
"Why there weren't any other tracks," Will stated, gesturing at Chad's booted feet.
Johnny had paused and turned back at Hayford's words, and looked down at Chad's feet at the same time as his older brother. "So, how many pairs of those boots you got, Boston?"
"One less pair now."
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Later that same day, Scott Lancer exited his hotel room, looking up to see Johnny leaning against the wall across from his room, his hat in his hand. His brother was attired in his familiar rose- colored shirt and silver buttoned black pants. Johnny hadn't seemed to be the least bit dismayed that Chad's bullet had ruined the jacket of his black "court" suit.
On his side, Johnny noticed that Scott was dressed for dinner, in his tan jacket, white shirt and black string tie. The black sling was missing.
"How's your shoulder, Johnny?"
His brother shrugged. "Fine. You heard Teresa say she was glad ta bandage me up-"
"Yes," Scott smiled. "She said it had been so long, she was afraid of getting out of practice." Dealing with the aftermath of Chad's death and the remaining legal details of Johnny's release had still allowed Scott ample time for a joyful reunion with both Teresa and Jelly.
"Were you waiting for someone?" Scott carefully inquired, pulling the door shut behind him.
"I heard yur goin' to dinner with that so-called friend of yours," Johnny growled.
"I'm meeting Will for a drink," Scott corrected him. "I'm having dinner with you."
Johnny dropped his head, then looked back up his eyes dark with concern. "I don't like it, Scott. He'll try an'-"
"Try and what?" Scott interrupted, with that sad look in his eyes. "Try and convince me you're no good." He shook his head. "'Will would never try to do that now, but even if he did, there is no way he could convince me of that. All he would succeed in doing is destroying whatever chance there might be to save our friendship."
"He has a lot to answer for, Scott," the dark haired Lancer declared. "He's going to use that Harvard education of his ta try and talk his way out of what he did ta me."
"Why don't you go with me?" Scott inquired. "Will asked to talk to you earlier, he even sent a note."
Johnny unconsciously turned his hat in his hand. "I already told ya' as angry as I am, I ain't sure what I might do."
Scott walked over, leaning against the wall, next to his brother. "Johnny," he said quietly. "There are some things I have to discuss with Will, some things I want to make clear."
"Well, I don't like it." Johnny declared, putting his hat on his head, he pushed away from the wall. "Just make sure you're there ta meet us at six."
"I'll be there," Scott assured him, and started to head down the hall.
"Hey, Boston," Johnny called after him.
Scott turned, waiting as Johnny quickly walked up to him. "Yes?'
Johnny threw one arm around Scott's shoulders, pulling his brother towards him. Scott was momentarily startled by the brotherly embrace and then responded in kind. As they moved apart, each one looked searchingly at the other.
"We need ta make a deal," Johnny stated seriously. "We got a problem with each other, we talk about it."
"That sounds like a great plan to me," Scott replied, slapping his brother on the arm. "Well . . . .I better get going or I'm never going to make it to dinner."
"Tell yur friend I said----" Johnny drawled, a twinkle in his eye. He paused, changing his mind at the look in Scott's eyes. "Never mind, I'll see ya in a while." He watched as his brother walked down the steps, shaking his dark head as he strolled towards his father's room. Scott would always and forever be a peacemaker, but it would take a lot of time and space before Johnny would be able to stomach bein' in the same room with Will Hayford.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
When Scott entered the restaurant, he looked around until he spied Will sitting at a table in a secluded corner. He walked over and took a seat opposite his friend.
"A whiskey," Scott said to the waiter, turning to Will. "Will?"
"I'm all set," Will answered, picking up his glass. "I'm meeting Webster and Reed for dinner in an hour."
"Things change fast," Scott commented, raising an eyebrow. "Yesterday they sat on opposite sides of the courtroom and you were a witness."
"Outside the courtroom, we're all friends," Will explained quietly. After a brief pause, he added, "I was hoping that Johnny would join us, Scott. There are some things I'd like to say to him. . . I'd like to at least try to apologize."
"Johnny's too angry to talk to you right now," Scott began, pausing to carefully gather his thoughts.
"I can understand how he must feel . . ," Will began.
"Can you?" Scott asked with angry intensity. "If I had been more seriously injured, taken longer to get back, I could have come home to find that my brother was dead." He paused, giving Will time to reflect on his words. "And I would have also discovered that you had played a major role in his being wrongfully arrested and hung for my murder."
"You don't know how much I regret that," Will said softly. "There's no denying, that if your brother had hung, I would have been the one to blame for that."
Seeing that his friend seemed to be truly remorseful, Scott offered up a dry comment. "Well, Chad did have something to do with it." Although he took no pleasure in the memory, Scott had no remorse about shooting his 'cousin' in order to save Johnny.
"It wasn't just the evidence that he planted, Scott. I would have seen through it that much sooner if I hadn't . . . . gotten carried away."
Scott watched his friend carefully. Will sat staring at the changing level of the whiskey in the glass he was grasping between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand, tilting it slowly back and forth. As usual, the bottom of Will's right sleeve was pinned to the shoulder of his jacket. With his blind side turned towards Scott, the other man's expression was unreadable. As he examined the damaged face of his childhood friend, Scott thought about how much Will had overcome and how he admired him for it. Somewhat to his own surprise, he heard himself say as much, then add, in a regretful tone, "Apparently you don't think very highly of me."
Having kept his brown curly head bowed during Scott's expression of regard, Will now looked up at him in surprise. "What do you mean?"
"You should have listened to what I told you about my brother, when I told you that I trusted him and he trusted me. Then perhaps you wouldn't have been so quick to judge him."
"But I did listen," Will confessed. Seeing Scott's expression clouded with disbelief, Will pressed on. "That's what angered me, what drove me to . . .to go after him. If you could put that much trust in Johnny, and he betrayed you, I had to make sure that he paid for it."
"But he didn't betray me," Scott reminded him. "Will, I'd like to believe that you honestly thought Johnny was guilty, that that was your motivation." About to continue, Scott stopped as the waiter appeared with his drink. "Thank you." Once the man had departed, Scott looked at Will once more. "I suspect that everything you did, Will, was because you thought that you *needed * to protect me."
"It wasn't like that," Will protested.
"I think it was," Scott replied, determined to get his point across. "You've been so used to the idea of 'taking care' of me all these years that you don't know how to let go, but you have to. Part of the reason I left Boston was to get away from my grandfather's ……over protectiveness."
"I know you're right," the young lawyer finally conceded. "But if I had to do it all over again, given the same set of circumstances, I'm afraid that I might do the same things."
After a moment, Will continued speaking. "You know, Scott, Chad's goal wasn't to kill you, it was to get revenge on Johnny. Not that that would have made you any less dead, if Chad had had his way."
Scott's eyes showed his understanding. "Just as your goal wasn't to kill my brother, but to avenge my death. Not that that would have made Johnny any less dead."
"Exactly. And you can't think that I'm proud to find myself to be . .to be similar to someone like Chad."
After a short silence, Scott resumed the conversation. "This isn't Boston," Scott informed him. "Things aren't always as black and white out here, there are a lot of grey areas and my brother falls into one of them." He took a sip of his whiskey. "Though I closed my eyes to it, it does seem to me that you never liked Johnny, never gave him a chance."
"That's not true, Scott."
"I think it is," Scott said sadly. "You looked for only the negative things." The blond haired Lancer twirled his glass, watching the liquid splash on the sides. "You even hired someone to investigate his past."
"I only did that after you told me about Drago," Will said, defending himself. "And the Gatling gun. Scott, you almost died simply because your brother is--- or was--- Johnny Madrid, and I wanted to know if it was likely to happen again." Surprised by this explanation, Scott regarded Will thoughtfully.
"You did come up with a good plan, to confront Chad."
"That doesn't undo anything."
"That's true."
"I realize that this has changed our relationship," Will added, his expression filled with regret. "That it will be hard for you to forgive this….I knew that before you made that statement to Johnny at the jail."
"It is different this time," Scott told him. "It's harder to forgive when it involves my family." "And I know," he added, holding up a hand to ward off an objection that, on second glance, did not appear to be forthcoming. "I haven't known them very long. It's only been a few years since I learned of Johnny's existence. And, you did spend a lot of years listening to me . . . talking about how much I hated my father, how he didn't care about me."
Will nodded, but when his friend did not offer a comment, Scott continued. "Now I know that he does care. So does Johnny. And I care about them, Will, very much."
"I can see that, now. And, I know now that if I'd seen it sooner, I might have worked with them to figure out what had happened. But instead, I acted as if I was the only person that you mattered to . . "
"I'm glad that you can see that, Will."
"I'm not blind, Scott." His friend grimaced wryly, rubbing at the edge of his black eye patch. "Though I can be single focused, in more ways than one. . . . Actually, it was your grandfather who helped me to see how things are. . . .
"Grandfather?"
"He really does seem to understand, Scott, how you feel about Johnny . . . . and Murdoch."
Scott's expression did not alter, but something in his light blue eyes changed, showing how much he valued that piece of information. "That's good to know," he said mildly.
Across the way, Murdoch, Jelly, Teresa and Johnny entered the hotel dining room. As a concession to its formality, Johnny had donned a black bolero jacket over his brightly colored shirt. He paused in the doorway to survey the room, and spied Will and Scott in their corner. As the others headed to a table, Johnny sauntered towards his brother. "You ready?"
Scott slowly rose from his seat. "This isn't the time, Will," he softly admonished him, and was somewhat relieved to see his friend nod in agreement.
Johnny stopped a short distance from their table, sliding his sharp blue-eyed gaze over Will Hayford without allowing so much as a flicker of an expression to show on his face. He looked directly at Scott. "You comin'?"
"Yes." Scott looked down at Will. "I'll be in Sacramento a few more days, to spend some time with Grandfather … and Wade." He squinted down at his old friend and then added lightly, "You might have told me about Wade." Scott had been surprised the previous evening, when he'd encountered Wade Garrett at the hotel, to see how much the other man had changed. Wade had lost weight, his bad complexion was masked by a fine growth of beard and he now exuded a far greater self-assurance than Scott had remembered.
Will exhaled softly and a slightly ironic smile touched his lips. "He certainly is no longer 'The Toad' he once was."
His curiosity already piqued, Johnny failed to prevent the question from slipping out. "Toad?"
Scott smiled ruefully at his younger brother. "It was an unfortunate nickname that we had for Cousin Wade, when we were boys," he explained. "I'm not sure who invented it, but I don't believe that Wade ever knew."
Will pushed his chair back and stood up. "Oh, he knew. And it was my brother John who coined the phrase," he added, his gaze including both Lancers. "Wade heard John say it once. Of course, my brother John, . . . he told Wade that you'd made it up."
Scott's eyes widened in dismay at that information, then he shook his head. "No wonder he never liked me much."
"That's something I *can * fix, Scott." He looked at Johnny, then back at Scott once more, but again seemed to be addressing both of the brothers. "I know what it is to lose a brother. I wouldn't be very willing to forgive me either." About to extend his left hand, Will apparently thought better of it, and simply reached up and lightly patted Scott's shoulder. "I hope we'll talk some more, before you leave," he said, as he moved away, towards the door.
Scott nodded his acceptance. "I'd like that. Good night, Will." Placing his own hand on Johnny's shoulder, Scott steered his younger brother towards their waiting family.
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Dinner was relaxing, but fairly quiet, once Scott had told his family what he could recall of his stay with Elijah Morse and described his stealthy return to the ranch. The Lancers and Jelly were not eager to rehash the events of the trial, and to Johnny's relief, Scott did not inquire about any of those things that Johnny had said he wasn't going to like. Everyone at the table also studiously avoided mention of the names "Chad" and "Will".
Eventually, Murdoch Lancer turned the conversation to the ranch, and the work that would be waiting for them there. The Lancer patriarch made no secret of his desire to return home as soon as possible, a wish which Jelly and Teresa clearly shared.
Scott informed Murdoch of his intention to remain in the city for a few days in order to spend time with his grandfather, and then waited for the older man to make his displeasure known. He was pleasantly surprised to find that that was not the case. Murdoch simply nodded and said that he had expected that. There was not a hint of resentment in his tone, or a flicker of annoyance on his face, not even when Johnny announced his intention to remain behind as well, in order to accompany Scott home.
True to his word, Murdoch Lancer departed Sacramento the next day, after taking leave of Nicholas Reed and Jarrod Barkley, and expressing his deep appreciation of everything that they had done on Johnny's behalf. Once back at the ranch, Murdoch also sent Walt Sr. and Alfonso to Elijah Morse's cabin with some supplies and a note of thanks for the assistance the man had rendered to Scott. Reed and Morse were extended open invitations to visit Lancer; Murdoch assured Jarrod Barkley that he would be in touch with Jarrod's mother, Victoria soon, to plan a joint gathering of the two ranching families.
Scott spent a pleasant few days in the company of his grandfather and Wade, and also had lunch with Will Hayford. Despite Scott's repeated invitations for Johnny to join him, the younger man preferred to spend time on his own, restlessly exploring the city, trying not to let Scott see his great impatience to head for home. Both brothers were fairly quiet on the stagecoach trip back to Morro Coyo, spending much of their time traveling in companionable silence.
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As they cut across the stream and turned their horses west, Scott and Johnny rode within sight of the small Lancer ranch cemetery. A week earlier, Chad had been laid to rest beside Callie. The brothers had not objected to Murdoch's reluctant decision, after all, the man had to be buried somewhere. But none of the Lancers had been present when the ranch hands assigned to the task had lowered the coffin into the grave; no prayers had been recited at the graveside.
"Lot of hate died with im."
"That's true."
"Funny how sometimes you can't tell by lookin' at a man that he's all eaten up inside."
"I doubt he was always like that, Johnny."
"No, prob'bly not. Maybe just since Callie died."
"Sometimes its harder to be the one that lives."
Johnny gave his older brother a long look. "Maybe. . .I guess I just can't understand bein' willin' to go to all that trouble," he said slowly.
Scott eyed Johnny speculatively. "No . .you wouldn't."
"Damn right. I had a problem, I'd have it out, face to face."
"In a gunfight."
Johnny paused at that. "Not necessarily. But, yeah, that's what I did you know. It's one way ta settle things.. ."
"Did you ever get used to it?"
Johnny sighed. "It's like anything else, you do it often enough or see it. . yeah, in a way, you get used ta it. In other ways, you don't." Johnny wasn't sure he was making any sense, but he noted that Scott nodded in understanding. He had no way of knowing that his older brother was thinking about that interminable year at Libby.
"I mean, you can't think about what you're doin', you just have to do it. You can't be standing there ready ta face someone's gun and be afraid of killin' . . .or of dyin'."
"I have never been as afraid as I was when I thought you might hang for killing me," Scott admitted uncomfortably
"Not as scared as I was," Johnny replied. "At the thought of never seein' you alive again."
They rode on in silence for a ways. Johnny slid a glance over at Scott. His blue-grey cropped jacket accentuated Scott's erect posture. His brother's head was up, eyes forward, shaded by the brim of his hat. Impassive expression. Scott sure was hard to get to know. Johnny remembered those first few hours after the older man had come up missing, how one of the first things he'd thought of was how much he still didn't know about Scott and the cold fear that he was never going to get another chance.
"Time I was most afraid of dying would have ta be down in Mexico, just before Murdoch's Pinkerton man showed up."
Johnny could feel Scott's gaze on him, all attention, just listening, as he slowed Brunswick up a bit to match pace with Barranca. But Scott didn't ask any questions and Johnny didn't look up at him. He figured that now that he'd started, he might as well finish it. "There was all kinds of things I was thinking about while I was sitting in that cell, just waitin', but when I was kneelin' on the ground, and they shot the man in front of me, all I could think about was would I be able to stand up, stay on my feet. But, I guess it's hard ta know til it's time."
"No, I guess no one really knows," was Scott's guarded response.
After another long pause, Johnny finally asked a question. "You ever been scared like that?"
"Many times, during the War."
Scott thought about adding more to that, but he'd never felt successful, trying to describe what it was like to be in the middle of a battlefield, to someone who hadn't been there. He thought about that dark year at Libby and how he had yet to share any of the details with his family. The episode with Dan Cassidy, Lewis and Hardy, had revealed a part of that year, had dragged his past out here to cast a shadow over his new life, but there was still so much more that had been left behind, memories which he was reluctant to expose to the light of day here at Lancer.
But there was something, a moment from his new life, something that he'd discussed with Will, which perhaps he really should have entrusted to his brother before anyone else.
"Johnny, you remember Drago . . . .
Johnny nodded in appreciation. "Yeah, Scott," he said in an encouraging tone. "I remember 'im . . ."
THE END
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