Word Count 14,984
For the ‘If only I’d been there, that
wouldn’t have happened’ Challenge
A profound thanks to Bobby,
Sandy and Cathy, for grabbing my muse
by the throat and lighting the fire
under her lazy butt.
.
How long he’d sat in the comfortable leather chair, looking out the window over the vast expanse of Lancer land, Murdoch didn’t know, didn’t care; all he could think about was the events of the two weeks. How hard could it have been? If only I’d been there… none of what happened would have happened… Insects, illness, and injury. Yes, I should have been there, and none of this would have happened.
It seemed a simple enough job. Escorting three young ladies from here to there wasn’t as if he’d been duty-bound extraditing a wanted criminal to the gallows. But Sheriff Val Crawford knew he would need help seeing the ladies from Carson City to Sacramento; mountain storms had destroyed the bridge over Brighten Pass Gorge, breaking the train tracks apart like match sticks to plummet into the river below. They were forced to travel by horseback… or walk, and Val didn’t think the ladies would be agreeable to the hike. But then, neither was he.
The Sheriff of Carson City, Tommy Jefferies, explained that the widowed father of said ladies, a scoundrel from the East, had been arrested and extradited to Providence, Rhode Island, where he was wanted for everything from embezzlement to bank robbery and a host of other crimes; he was apprehended in Carson City on his way to his sister’s house with his daughters. As a favor to the Sheriff, Val was asked to take the girls to their aunt in Sacramento. What could Val say except yes? Time with three Eastern ladies, the clean air of the mountains and beautiful scenery would do them all good. Time away from the daily grind was necessary for everyone, and a little vacation was just what he needed.
Normally, taking three ladies on a train would not have been a problem, but the storms in the mountains ruined that plan; he needed help he could depend on, help that he could trust, and that left the only two Val could count on for that help — Johnny and Scott Lancer. Only too happy to pitch in and do their civic duty, the thought of escorting three lovely ladies to their destination prompted the Lancer brothers to agree to the task. After all, what could go wrong? Three women and three men to guide and protect them? It made perfect sense.
“As the crow flies, it’s less’n a hundred miles, but I figure we can make it in no time, even havin’ ta go ‘round Lake Tahoe.”
And Val was quickly reminded of that when they finally reached their destination a week and a half later.
Travel through the mountains wasn’t as bad as anticipated. The storm had hit the bridge in Brighten Pass Gorge the hardest, but the trails were passable. The three men hoped it would stay that way, but Mother Nature didn’t care what would be easiest for mankind. She did what she wanted when she wanted, and too bad for those who were caught in her crosshairs. And that included the Sheriff and his deputies.
As Val, Scott, and Johnny reached Carson City, their thoughts, unbeknownst to them, were alike, hoping the ladies would tolerate the camping under the stars and cope without amenities to which they were no doubt accustomed. Well, never let it be said that these men couldn’t provide solace and comfort when needed, especially to beautiful young ladies.
Tying off at the Sheriff’s Office, Scott and Johnny followed Val into the dark interior, gather any last-minute details, collect the ladies, then head out toward Sacramento. Sheriff Jefferies was not there; Deputy Will Bennings stood when the three men entered the office.
“What can I do for ya, fellas?” Then he spotted the badge, half covered by Val’s coat.
Johnny swore the deputy paled.
“Uh, you must be Sheriff Crawford…?”
Bennings would never get rich playing poker; his face gave away volumes. Val began to get that annoying itch, the one that told him something was not as it should be.
“Yeah, ‘m Crawford.” Val’s eyes narrowed. “Where’s Jefferies?”
Deputy Bennings dropped his gaze, unable to look Val in the eyes. “Well, uh, he’s… not here. But the… Cunninghams are over at the hotel waitin’ for ya.”
Val was not amused; he knew something was going on; he wanted to know what it was… and he wanted to know now. Bennings knew why he was there; he had offered the information before Val asked. Somethin’s goin’ on here… “When’s Jefferies gettin’ back?”
Bennings met the Sheriff’s eyes, then answered. “Won’t be back till next week. Said not ta wait for him. The Cunningham’s aunt is waitin’ for them in Sacramento. Seems like her brother weren’t law abidin’ an’ she’s takin in his daughters. But they’re waitin’ for ya. Over at the hotel. Ya know, if ya leave right away, ya can prob’ly make a good ten or so miles before ya have ta stop for the night…”
Johnny and Scott exchanged glances. Something was beginning to smell, and for once, it wasn’t Val.
“C’mon, Val, let’s get goin’,” Johnny mumbled as he sent a withering, cold stare in Benning’s direction, making the deputy take a step backward.
Scott stepped forward and issued a pleasant salutation in Benning’s direction, but the edge in the tone did not compliment the words. “Have a good day, Deputy.”
A crash was heard from across the street… a crash that came from the hotel.
Sheriff Crawford and Deputies Scott and Johnny Lancer left the office, but not before Val slammed the door hard enough to rattle the glass in the windows.
“Somethin’s going on here…” Val growled.
“I’m sure it’s not anything we can’t handle. Let’s get over to the hotel, pick up the ladies, and get on the trail,” Scott suggested optimistically.
From the sound of things, Sheriff Jefferies shouldn’t have left town. The commotion sounded serious; a loud crash, then a scream shattered the relative quiet and prompted the three lawmen toward trouble. However, it did flash through Val’s mind that Deputy Bennings was suspiciously absent.
Val, Johnny, and Scott rushed into the lobby, ready to confront potential trouble, when a pillow, launched from across the room by an unknown assailant, knocked the hat off Val’s head to fall to the floor. A shocked and shrill squeal, followed by an “Oh, I’m sorry! I wasn’t aiming at you!” apology pierced their ears.
Val quickly assessed the situation, not finding any threat of outlaws, robbers, or guns pointed in his face. There was nothing but the frazzled-looking desk clerk and a distraught middle-aged woman doing her best to take control of a girl of about ten years old.
Johnny couldn’t help the snort of humor and did not bother to hide it, asking, “Hey Val, ya need some help capturin’ this… pillow desperado?”
Scott caught his smile before it had a chance to make its escape and explode into the laugh that would no doubt have Val threaten to throw his sorry behind in jail; he fought the urge to give in to the entertaining spectacle playing out before him.
Val shot Johnny a scathing glare, then turned to the desk clerk. “What’s goin’ on here?” as he pulled his jacket to the side to expose the star pinned on his chest.
Unlike the deputy at the sheriff’s office, the desk clerk breathed a sigh of relief and muttered, “Thank the Lord! Sheriff, you have to do something!”
Val was not up for settling a squabble between a spoiled child and her mother. A commotion on the stairs drew his attention as the sheriff’s and his deputies’ hands went to their Colts when footsteps pounded down the stairs. A young voice scolded with an authoritative tone.
“Margaret Louise! You’d better not be causing…,” but the chastising stopped as she took in the scene before her. Three men, three official-looking men, stood in the lobby with their hands ready to draw their weapons.
The girl, in her mid-teens and a young girl of not more than seven, stood on the stairs, wide-eyed and stunned at the scene playing out in the hotel lobby.
Val shrugged, then turned to the desk clerk. “Look, we need ta be on our way. Can ya just tell us where ta find the Cunningham women?”
Mr. Desk Clerk had exchanged his forlorn and desperate-for-help look to grace the sheriff with one of eternal gratefulness. And now, a grin stretched across the wide mouth to reveal a large gap between the front teeth. The smile itself was not only relief, but Johnny picked up a subtle ‘glad it’s you and not me’ sentiment behind it.
The desk clerk sniffed. “These are the Cunninghams,” with his hand in a sweeping motion over the girls in the lobby. “And this is Mrs. Tolliver, their temporary governess.” He extended his arm toward the woman; she, too, smiled in relief upon meeting the Sheriff.
Val stood in complete shock. No! “No, they ain’t. Look, we’re here ta pick up the three daughters of that thief that stole…”
Miss Pillow Launcher charged Val with a kick to his shin, the pointed toe of her shoe finding its mark in brutal accuracy. “My daddy did not steal anything!” she declared in defense of her father.
Val blanched as he grabbed his leg and hopped to the desk for support. Johnny and Scott winced, knowing the kick had to hurt, but that did not stop the smirks they desperately tried and failed miserably to hide. Val glared again, visibly perturbed at the direction the situation was taking.
The desk clerk, Marvin Wilson, cleared his throat then explained. “I’m sorry to have to inform you, Sheriff, but these three are the Cunninghams that you are to escort to Sacramento… quickly, please,” he stressed. It appeared the girls had turned the hotel and its staff upside down.
Val could only stare. His bruised shin, forgotten for the time being, he turned toward the three girls, then back to the desk clerk. “You kiddin’ me?”
If it was possible, Marvin’s grin stretched wider, making him look much like a wolf, a grinning, feral canine. He tugged at his lapels and straightened his coat. “Indeed, I am not kidding! I do not ‘kid’.” All he wanted was the disruptive girls out of his hotel, then urging the idea along, he said, “If you leave now, you can get several miles out of town before you need to stop for the night…” unknowingly echoing the deputy at the sheriff’s office.
Val now knew why Sheriff Jefferies hadn’t been in town. He couldn’t face Val with the truth that he did not want to deal with the young Cunninghams, the same Cunninghams he led Val to believe were grown women. And now, Val, Johnny, and Scott had no choice but to bite the proverbial bullet and do their civic duty.
Jus’ how the Hell’re we gonna get them three young’uns ta Sacramento? Val took a deep breath, exhaled loudly, then looked to his deputies for support.
“Looks like it’s your call, Sheriff,” Johnny said as Scott nodded in agreement.
There was no other choice. With no train out of Carson City and three stranded children, there was just no other choice.
“Alright, Mr. Wilson, you go back inta that kitchen an’ pack us up food for the trip back ta Sacramento… and charge it ta Jefferies’ account!” Val growled.
Sheriff Tommy Jefferies couldn’t help but laugh. He’d successfully passed off the trouble, placing it squarely in Val Crawford’s lap. “What the hell, Val owes me for that last stunt he pulled on me! He’s got this comin’, an’ then some!”
It had been a dirty trick Val played, after all, causing Jefferies much aggravation and more than a little embarrassment. But, when apprehending desperados, one did what he had to do to get the job done, and if it took masquerading as a woman to get the drop on said yahoos, well, buck up and get it done. Jefferies had wished the dress he was stuffed into hadn’t looked so blamed stupid! So, to his way of thinking, Val had this one coming.
With a wicked smile stretching the width of his face, Sheriff Tommy Jefferies continued up the trail… the trail that led to a cozy cabin in the woods next to a stream filled with large, fat, hungry trout.
It had not gone smoothly or without incident. The lawmen had never seen so much luggage; however, Scott was not surprised. He had a sneaking suspicion it would be the case, but Val had, in no uncertain terms, told the girls they were not taking all their trunks and travel bags with them on horseback. They would take what they could carry, and that was all, explaining that the rest would have to be shipped when the bridge was repaired in the mountains, and it would arrive by railroad.
“Now I ain’t gonna listen ta yer whinin’ no more!” Val was quickly losing his patience.
“Anymore.” Alexandra corrected with a condescending tilt of her head.
“Anymore, what?” Val growled.
Alexandra sighed; she was fifteen, and this was a grown man who couldn’t speak correctly! “You should have said ‘anymore’ instead of ’no more’!”
Now it was Val’s turn to sigh. “There’s a lotta things I shoulda done, Miss, an’ one of ‘em was ta turn down this job!”
Johnny chuckled at Val’s expense, making the sheriff regret his choice of deputies. Scott, amused at the prospect of teasing the sheriff with Alexandra’s help, hid his grin, knowing there would be many more opportunities before they reached their destination, and he wondered who would win the war of words. He would put his money on Miss Alexandra Cunningham.
Val thought that at least one thing had gone in their favor when Alexandra and Melissa said they could ride; however, neither mentioned they could ride side saddle.
“There ain’t no way you can ride side saddle through them mountains!”
“There ‘isn’t any way’,” Miss Cunningham corrected again, wondering how this man ever got to be sheriff when he could not speak in a manner befitting an officer of the law. But then, she thought, he didn’t look like an officer of the law, either.
He exploded when the girls told him they’d never ‘sat a saddle like that!’.
“We cannot ride on those saddles! Ladies do not ride astride!” She held firm to her decision, determined to see this… this bumpkin treat them as the young ladies they were.
Alexandra insisted it was the only way a young lady should ride a horse, and she wasted no time informing Sheriff Crawford that either he would see to it that she had the proper saddle or she wasn’t going anywhere!
“Well, you might be a young lady, but that don’t change the fact that we hafta ride through them mountains ta get ta Sacramento, an’ ya can’t do that ridin’ a sidesaddle!”
“It ‘doesn’t change the fact’, Sheriff Crawford, not ‘don’t change’,” the girl corrected.
“Well, I’m glad ya see things my way!” Val said, declaring victory over the argument.
Scott knew it was time to intervene when the girl opened her mouth to speak. “Miss Cunningham, as we were not properly informed of the situation, and time is of the essence, we have no other choice. We deeply regret the lack of communication and the failure of Sheriff Jefferies to convey your riding preference, but I highly doubt there are any side saddles to substitute for these conventional saddles. And you will find it a safer option. Mountain travel is not the same as riding through Federal Hill, as I am sure you’ve done many times.”
Alexandra covered her surprise. How did this man know of Federal Hill? Only educated people knew of Federal Hill! But he appeared to be well-spoken and educated. Perhaps this man was not like the other two…?
She paused for effect. “Well, alright; if it has to be this way, it has to be.”
Val stood dumbfounded; Johnny smirked, then Val growled.
The visit to the general store had not gone without incident or argument when the girls were fitted with pants to take the place of their dresses.
“Ladies do not wear pants!” Alexandra voiced her displeasure.
But Val was ready for the opposition and, all too eager to be on their way, he scowled that ‘ladies do wear pants travelin’ through the mountains if they want ta get ta Sacramento!’
The dispute was pitifully short as Val stalked away, leaving Alexandra in complete shock, debating her threat of refusing to go anywhere wearing men’s clothing. Scott intervened a second time, leaving Val and Johnny much relieved they would not be further delayed.
The altercation at its end, Alexandra and Margaret were each given a horse to ride, but Melissa was too small to ride alone, so it was decided that she would take turns riding with Val, Scott, and Johnny.
The peculiar group made their way out of Carson City and traveled to the west and the mountains.
Jefferies owes me! Val fumed as he led the pitiful procession into the higher elevations.
“When will we get there?”
“I’m hungry!”
“I want to go back!”
“I don’t want to go to Aunt Henrietta’s!”
“Why can’t we turn around and be with Papa?”
“Can we stop? I’m tired!”
Val pulled Amigo to a halt, taking a firm hold of his boiling temper, he turned and barked out a response he hoped would set the tone for the girls to know who was the boss.
“We only been gone an hour! I don’t wanna hear anything outta any of ya till I say!”
“Does that count us, Sheriff, cuz both me an’ Scott think we need ta find someplace ta camp for the night since we got a late start?” Johnny let that irritating smile crawl across his face, largely to see just how far Val could go without his head blowing off his shoulders.
If Johnny didn’t know any better, he would have sworn there was a bear in the brush with the grunts and snarls that floated around them.
Deputies Johnny and Scott placed a bet, wondering when the first complaint about food or fear of the dark would occur. The oldest girl, Alexandra, proudly declared that she was fifteen and wasn’t afraid of the dark, then promptly asked why they were staying here and not in a hotel with civilized people. She settled with a huff when Sheriff Crawford told them it was time to sleep, ‘an’ stop worryin’ about a hotel!’. With a desperate glance at Scott and receiving only a shrug, she flounced to her place near the fire as she mumbled something about savages and bumpkins.
Margaret sat poking a stick into the fire, rearranging the charred pieces of firewood, and seemed to be perfectly content in doing so. But there was a sadness in her eyes, knowing she was leaving her father behind. During the day, she proudly announced that at eleven years old, and was old enough to watch over herself until the howl of a wolf sent her into a shiver. Frantic eyes went to Val, silently asking if they were safe. She looked helpless, and in a moment of weakness, Val gave her a reassuring nod that it would be all right.
Little Melissa had attached herself to Johnny’s hip, not letting him out of her sight. Although they had not traveled that far, she announced that she would be riding that pretty golden horse with ‘him’ and pointed at the man with the red shirt. There was even room for Polly, the rag doll she was never without.
The wolf’s song sent her down the dark path, fearing the unknown. She hurried to Johnny’s side and snuggled against him; he placed a protective arm across her shoulders, then attempted to guide her imagination from the unknown.
“There’s nothin’ ta be afraid of, little one. Hey, my name’s Johnny,” he said with a grin.
“I’m Melissa,” she said with a shy smile, wide eyes looking up into his.
“Yeah, I know. That’s a pretty name,” he whispered, making her giggle.
A smile blossomed across her face, then, in a timid voice, she giggled out, “So is Johnny!”
Val growled again and rolled his eyes.
“Daddy! Daddy, where are you?”
The sudden distressed call echoed through the camp, jarring everyone from sleep.
Assuming her role as caregiver for her sisters, Alexandra came awake and went to Melissa’s side to comfort her. The ordeal of their father having been arrested and taken from them had sent the little girl into nightmares that plagued her ever since they were separated.
Johnny watched as the older girl did her best to ease the pain in her younger sister’s heart, and he sympathized, knowing how it felt — the agony of forced parting, torn from your loved one’s arms. The person that meant so much was no longer there. He knelt next to Alexandra and urged her to go back to sleep, then he gathered Melissa in his arms, tucked her rag doll in her hands, and held her against his chest until sleep tugged her eyes closed, and she drifted off.
Disturbed by the noise, Scott woke and, finding nothing more than bad dreams the cause of the commotion, but touched by his brother’s compassion, he took the rest of Johnny’s shift, not having the heart to disrupt Melissa’s rest. He would never tell Johnny, but the sight of his rowdy, ex-gunfighter brother soothing the little girl in his arms back into sleep, stirred in his heart more than he could say, and he let them rest as he settled in giving more thought to nightmares and the fear they caused. Scott Garrett Lancer had his share of nightmares… he knew that fear as well.
“And what is that?” Alexandra questioned; her brow creased as the disgust registered in her brain.
Scott smiled, then employed Eastern rationale, which he was certain would help her understand, and explained that the leathery substance she held in her hand was jerky and that she was to eat it. He had to fight not to laugh at her horrified expression.
“Believe it or not, Alexandra, this has kept many people alive for long periods of time. Try it!” he encouraged, put a piece in his mouth, and chewed.
She watched him, wondering if she should try it. She knew he was an educated man, and her apprehensions began to wane. Perhaps if she tried a tiny piece…? She didn’t want to think that Mr. Lancer would tell a fib. And she put it into her mouth. It was tough, and she imagined it was like chewing on a boot, but it did have a unique taste that wasn’t terribly offensive; however, she would never admit to anyone outside of this small group that she had actually eaten this… this substance.
Scott smiled and was surprised when it was reciprocated.
“Don’t you miss Papa, Alexandra?” Melissa whispered.
“Yes, of course I do! I don’t want to go to Aunt Henrietta’s any more than you do. But we don’t have much choice. Papa’s in jail, and we can’t get him out.” No matter how much she hoped and prayed, it did no good. Alexandra had to be strong for her sisters, but she was so tired. She couldn’t shoulder this whole thing by herself, but would her sisters understand?
“Look, you two, all we can do is go to Aunt Henrietta’s until Papa comes for us.”
But Maggie wasn’t listening; she had her own idea. Papa had always told her that if she wanted something to happen, she had to make it happen. And that’s exactly what she was going to do.
“Scott, watch the girls for a minute, would ya? Me an’ Val are gonna check out this other trail. He thinks it might be easier for them. We won’t be long.” Without giving Scott a chance to acknowledge, Johnny and Val left the Bostonian alone with the Cunninghams.
Margaret and Melissa sat in the sun talking. Scott smiled, thinking they looked the picture of innocence. One of them picked wildflowers, the other playing with her ragdoll. Alexandra, however, appeared troubled, and Scott wondered if he could help. He picked up a canteen and helped her to fill them in the stream.
“You look deep in thought, Lexi. Is there anything I can help with?” Then Scott caught himself, debating if she would object to the name Johnny tagged her with instead of her full given name. But she accepted it, not seeming to mind.
She sighed as she shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know if anyone can help. I was thinking about Papa and what will happen to him. The girls ask me all the time, and I have no answers. I don’t know what to tell them.”
She turned to Scott with disconsolate green eyes and a deep frown, and he was saddened, knowing it weighed heavy on her heart.
“You won’t know anything until he goes to trial. You have to wait. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but unfortunately, that’s how it is. Waiting is always the worst part.”
She listened while he talked; it made sense, however it didn’t make it any easier for her. Perhaps she just needed to talk, to vent. But she did enjoy conversing with Scott. He listened to her, and he seemed genuinely concerned. He cared, and that made all the difference.
They talked for nearly half an hour, then suddenly, they remembered the two younger siblings.
“Oh, they probably fell asleep in the warm sun…” Lexi began, but their hearts fell to their feet when neither child could be found, and the horse Margaret was riding was gone as well.
“They’re busy talking and aren’t even watching us! Are you with me or not?” Maggie demanded.
“But how are we going to do it?” Lissa asked of her sister, who seemed to have all the answers.
“Don’t be silly! We’re going to cover our faces with bandanas, ride into town, and pull the bars from the window! We are going to break Papa out of jail!”
Lissa wondered if they could do it, but Margaret seemed to think they could, so it must be a good plan. No one else was going to help them, so, as Margaret suggested, they had to make it happen, … just like Papa had told them time and time again!
“Alexandra and Scott are talking over there,” Maggie pointed in their direction. She led her horse over to a rock, climbed on top, then jumped into the saddle. “Melissa, get up here behind me, and we can go back.”
Melissa tried to make it but slipped off the rock. She put Polly’s dress between her teeth to free both hands to aid in the climb, but it was too high.
“Hurry, Melissa! They’re going to catch us if you take any more time!”
“It’s too high! I can’t get on the rock!” Tears filled her eyes. Papa’s not going to get out of jail!
Margaret huffed. She slid out of the saddle to step on the rock and jumped to the ground. Then she assisted her sister onto the rock and into the saddle, once again, Maggie climbed on the rock and onto the horse’s back. Turning the animal down the trail, they quietly left undetected.
Lexi gasped when she realized her two sisters were gone. The horse was gone, too!
“Scott! Where are they? We’ve got to find them!”
“We’ll find them! They can’t go very far!” He checked the ground and quickly found the tracks. Then he cupped his hands to his mouth and called their names.
It was only three minutes later when Johnny and Val thundered into camp, rifles at the ready. With no time to ask questions, they took off back the way they’d come. Yup, there were two little girls in very big trouble!
The hunt was, thankfully, short. The plans for the jailbreak did not go as Margaret planned, and within an hour, both little girls were denied their careers as criminals. Johnny and Val swooped down upon them, easily overtaking the horse, and led them back to camp, where a furious Alexandra and Scott waited.
“And just what were you thinking? You had me worried to death!” the oldest Cunningham railed as she tried to control her anger and her tears.
Without verbally siding with Lexi, Scott understood the fear and frustration and turned an accusing eye on his brother.
Margaret and Melissa stood close together, and if one looked closely, one could see little Polly tremble in Melissa’s hand.
Margaret spoke, taking the initiative, after all, it was her idea. “We, ah, we were going to break Papa out of jail…”
Johnny’s mad deserted him, and he had all he could do not to burst into laughter. Val’s mouth twitched, and he had to turn his back to them; with that, Johnny walked away, leaving Scott to deal with the girls while they, Val and Johnny, tried, but with no success, to get their uncontrolled laughter under control.
“Uncle Val?” Margaret began.
“Uncle Val? Now why’d ya call me that?” Val growled.
Margaret settled on the log next to him and sighed. “Well, because you remind me of someone I read about in a book, and everyone called him uncle, so I’ll call you uncle, too!” The explanation seemed valid to her, so certainly Uncle Val wouldn’t mind if she called him uncle. She smiled triumphantly.
“What’s wrong with Val or Sheriff?” he snarked, not feeling comfortable with the direction the conversation was going, nor having to deal with a child, and a girl, no less. I dunno how ta talk ta young’uns…
“Besides, I shouldn’t even be talkin’ ta ya after what you tried ta do! What made ya think that you could bust your daddy outta jail, huh?” He couldn’t believe what the girl attempted to do, riding double with tiny Melissa holding on for dear life. Did they honestly think they could find their way back to Carson City and break their father out of jail? Not to mention scaring the lawmen to death after telling the girls to stay where they were and not to move from that spot.
The girl’s desperate ride hadn’t gotten them very far when Johnny and Val intercepted them and, with threats of tanning their backsides, then leaving them alone to fend for themselves in the cold, having to deal with night-time prowling critters, the two decided that they would, indeed, go back to join the rest and not run away again.
Scott’s alarmed call when coming back to where the younger ones were to have waited and finding them gone echoed across the granite rocks and tree-covered mountains and summoned Val and Johnny to return within minutes. Then they started after the two girls, livid with anger and irritation in their minds but sympathy in their hearts.
Any happiness she had felt fled under the Sheriff’s glare, and her bottom lip began to quiver, putting Val on defense, and he immediately regretted the reprimand. Don’t start cryin’!
“Hey there, don’t be doin’ that,” his gruff demeanor abandoned him quickly when he saw the first tear squeeze between her lashes and cheek. Aww Hell!
“Here,” he whispered, knowing he’d lost the hard edge of the no-nonsense Sheriff Val Crawford as he handed over his stained and torn but clean handkerchief. “Dry them eyes an’ wipe yer nose.”
The girl took the kerchief and twisted it in her fingers, then sniffed. “I wanted to help Papa! I know he didn’t do all those awful things!” Tears flowed unheeded, and Val was at a loss.
It was harder than Val anticipated, and he stumbled over thoughts and words before he could speak without stammering through the things he wanted, needed to convey. “I ain’t real good at this, but if I tell ya somethin’, would ya listen ta me? I mean, really listen?”
She turned her tear-bright eyes on him, then nodded.
“Good, now try an’ understand what I’m sayin’. Sometimes it ain’t easy doin’ the right things. Sometimes a man’ll get caught doin’ things he didn’t mean ta do. The things yer daddy’s accused of doin’… maybe he did ‘em with good intentions behind it. But they could still be against the law, good intentions or not. What woulda happened if you and yer sister got back there and ya tried ta bust him outta jail? Did ya have a plan?”
Margaret looked away, not able to face the man before her.
Finally, she looked down at the twisted cloth in her hands. “No, no plan. We just wanted to see Papa…” her dulcet tones nearly imperceptible.
“Ya coulda made it worse fer him, too. I know it’s hard, but ya gotta wait this out an’ let the law handle things, cuz breakin’ a man outta jail woulda made things worse. Do ya understand?”
“Yes, sir,” she mumbled.
“It’d be easier ta call me Val or Sheriff…”
“Oh, I couldn’t call you by your given name, and Sheriff is too… cold. No, I like uncle!” She turned to Val with the first smile he’d seen grace her features since their ‘talk’.
Was ‘it’ over? Did Margaret understand what he tried to tell her?
For the life of him, Val couldn’t figure her out. Uncle, huh? But for a reason he couldn’t name, the sentiment pleased him. There was something different about this girl. She wasn’t the prim and proper child Alexandra appeared to be, and little Melissa was too young to compare. This girl wasn’t the typical girl-child, not that Val knew what the ‘typical’ child should be. Lord knew the only kids Val was familiar with were the Smithson twins in Green River, six years old, and the local terrors. The red-headed boys had nearly burned Green River to the ground last year with their shenanigans! Val threatened to throw them in jail to scare them into behaving. And that lasted less than a week.
“Jus’ so ya r’member that I ain’t yer uncle,” he said with a stern look as he tried to make up for the talk that held a bit too much emotion for Sheriff Val Crawford.
Another smile sneaked into place, and sunlight blossomed on her face; she flicked the long, dark brown braid off her shoulder, happy with her ‘victory’. She was beginning to like this gruff, crude man.
“Hey, ain’t cha gonna tell me I’m talkin’ wrong?” he teased.
This time, it was a grin — an ear-to-ear grin that grew beneath the sparkling brown eyes. “Nope!” She felt liberated in offering that response. Strict education had, until this point, prevented such use of the word. Yes and no were her choices until her association with ‘Uncle’ Val.
Val didn’t bother to hold the laugh in check. This one ain’t nothin’ like them Smithson rowdies back in Green River!
He hadn’t planned on furthering the conversation and had no clue where the words came from; they formed of their own will, and he asked, “How ‘bout I call you Maggie?”
The sun dimmed in the shadow of her smile.
Murdoch frowned, fighting the irritation as it began to boil over in his mind. But in all truth, there wasn’t anything that Val, Johnny, or Scott could have done about the bridge that washed out at Brighten Pass. Still, he couldn’t help but think something else could have been arranged had he been there. A thought began to smolder; a sneaking suspicion that, once sparked, could not be snuffed. If those boys think they can stretch out the time with the Cunningham women and get out of ranch work, they have another thing coming! Temptation had been the downfall of more than one young man… Murdoch could only hope Val would put a stop to any shenanigans. What am I thinking? Val could be just as bad! When I get my hands on them…
“Johnny?”
Her voice was quiet, timid, afraid others would hear her confession; it made Johnny question if he heard her at all. He bowed his head toward hers as she sat in front of him on the saddle.
“Yeah, little one, what’d ya need?” he whispered, playing along with her in secret conspiracy. He watched as she brought a fisted hand to rub her eyes, then hiccupped.
“Johnny, I don’t feel so good. I think I’m going to…”
Johnny Madrid Lancer was not only fast with his Colt — he slid from Barranca’s back in a blur, grabbed the child out of the saddle with gentle but firm hands. There was no way he would let her puke on him or Barranca! Quickly, he carried her into the brush at the side of the trail, where she expelled the contents of her stomach in violent retches. Johnny wrapped an arm around her tiny waist and placed his other hand on her forehead, holding her steady, securely as she turned herself inside out.
He had witnessed horrific injuries and blood all his life, but this child with her belly ache was about to do him in as he listened to her gag; it triggered the reflex reaction in him. He couldn’t let Scott or Val know, or he would never hear the end of it. Johnny Madrid taken out of the game by a tiny girl with a tummy ache. Nope, that ain’t gonna happen, he thought. Taking deep breaths, he tried to gain back his control as he held her, not letting go for fear of her falling to the ground.
Melissa’s eyes watered, and her nose ran in a steady stream, making Johnny cringe, but he gallantly reached for his bandana and wiped her face. The eyes first, then he placed the cloth over her nose.
“Blow,” he commanded, and she complied. He folded the wet area into the middle then used the dry portion to wipe her mouth.
“Ya alright, little one?” He waited for her answer, but she began to cry, not answering the question. “Lexi, bring me my canteen, por favor,” he asked of the young lady.
Alexandra approached, watching her sister as worry washed over her features. “Melissa? Here, rinse your mouth,” and handed the child the canteen.
Melissa looked up into her sister’s eyes as tears streamed down her reddened cheeks. “I want my Daddy…” then turned and sobbed on Johnny’s shoulder.
Val, Scott, and Maggie sat quietly on their horses, observing the scene, each with different thoughts careening in their heads. Val mentally cursed the father for putting his daughters in their current position, not knowing if they would see him again and be forced to go to live with relatives they’d never met.
After the child recovered, he thanked his lucky stars it was his amigo that handled the kid with a bellyache and not him. He held back a chuckle as Johnny looked with disdain at the soiled bandana, knowing Johnny would be washing it in the next stream they came across.
Scott marveled at his brother’s ability to deal with the girl, ill and desperately missing her father. He seemed to know what to do to comfort the child, and Scott wondered about Johnny’s past. How did Johnny Madrid know what to do for Melissa? Then he shook his head, thinking it was Johnny’s own personal experience that guided him through the incident.
Maggie narrowly held her emotions together, knowing exactly what Melissa felt — she was missing her father dearly, and her heart cracked a little more every time she thought about him.
Johnny scooped the little girl in his arms and carried her to Barranca. Alexandra stopped to pick up the rag doll Melissa dropped when Johnny pulled her from the saddle. She handed it to her sister, who clutched it close. A comfort; security in an insecure situation. With his left hand on the saddle horn and Melissa settled in his right arm, Johnny Madrid Lancer mounted the patient horse and put the little girl in front of him.
Alexandra climbed on her horse without assistance and managed just fine.
“Lean back on me, Lissa; maybe ya can go ta sleep, huh? Close your eyes an’ rest, querida.”
Once more on the trail, the procession continued through the mountains, moving at a much slower pace. The thought was in all their minds — When would they reach Sacramento?
Alexandra Cunningham was puzzled as she observed the man from a distance. Though he wore the clothes of a Westerner, he possessed the polished speech and manners of an educated person, not like the other two, and she wondered how the Sheriff got to be Sheriff. The dark-haired man gave her mixed feelings; Johnny, he said to call him Johnny, not Mr. Lancer. Sometimes she had the notion he could be dangerous, but they were with a Sheriff — surely he wouldn’t do him any harm… would he?
But the little time she’d spent with Scott while filling the canteens before her sisters took off on their ill-fated journey to get back to Carson City had been enjoyable. The blond said to call him Scott, but why was he so different from the other two? She felt it comforting that Scott was at ease around Johnny, and that fact was reassuring. Oh, this is so silly! It shouldn’t be this complicated! If Scott trusted Johnny, then she guessed that she could as well.
She concentrated on the blond, taking in every detail, his height, the grace with which he moved, and she felt a growing appreciation for him. She blushed as her thoughts wandered. What would he look like with no shirt to cover him? Where had that come from? And she blushed a deeper red. Mother would be appalled! But Scott was very handsome.
Then suddenly, he was sitting by her side. How had she gotten so distracted that she didn’t know he was so close?
“Do you mind if I sit, Alexandra?”
What? ‘Do you mind if I sit?’ Heavens, please do!
Scott took his place as the girl scooted to her left, making room on the log where she sat. He noticed she seemed nervous; she would not meet his eyes and focused her gaze on everything around her. His thought was to engage her in conversation should she want or need to talk. He wasn’t sure their first conversation helped, and perhaps he should try again to ease the pain in her heart. He knew she wasn’t of age to make any decisions regarding the health and welfare of herself or her sisters, but he wanted to let her know he would listen to any bothersome thoughts if it would help. He had observed the care and attention she had given to her siblings, and perhaps he could ease any troubles she kept locked inside.
Scott looked out toward the mountains bathed in a blanket of buttery sunlight and sighed. “I never get tired of seeing this; the purity of the mountains and breathing the pine-scented air…” His soft words invited a response.
Surprised, she turned to him, distracted for a moment by the profile and handsome features.
“What? Oh, yes, of course. Mountains, air, yes, they are very nice.” Get yourself under control, you imbecile!
Scott knew it was up to him to move the talk forward. She seemed… distracted. “Are you alright, Alexandra?”
She was astounded, but pleasantly so, with his concern. But what was he asking? A frown creased her brow. How would she answer him? She was alright physically but admitted that her mind was in turmoil.
He read the question in her eyes, then put it into words. “Your father. Would you like to talk about it?” They hadn’t had the chance to talk since last time after finding the two younger girls had ridden off on their rescue mission, and Scott resumed that talk now.
Did she want to discuss it? There were questions she’d asked, but no one had any answers for her, and Scott was a complete stranger, so what would he know about her father? Could the fact that he knew nothing of their situation benefit her? She found herself wanting to open up, to ask the why’s and how’s and a thousand other things that others couldn’t answer.
She took a deep breath, sighing heavily, letting her shoulders fall into a slump. “I don’t have any more answers than I did last time we spoke, Mr. Lancer. The not knowing is difficult. What can I tell my sisters when I don’t know anything?” Her eyes began to well with tears. I don’t want to cry in front of him! He’ll think I’m a child!
“You probably won’t believe me if I tell you that I know that feeling… will you?” He smiled when she turned to stare, and he read the confusion there. He began to explain. “You see, at one point in my life, I had no answers to the questions that plagued me, and I was older than you are now.” He bowed his head, then leaned forward with elbows on his knees and laced his fingers together as he studied the ground beneath his boots.
“I grew up with a lie, a lie perpetrated by the one who meant the most to me. And when I found out what he had done, it was a betrayal of the worst kind. I found that his ‘love’ was conditional, and he manipulated me since I was a child. And, like you, I found no answers.”
Scott glanced at her profile as she stared out over the beautiful mountains, deciding to divulge more of his story in hopes he could ease her fears and heartache. “I was denied knowing my father and my brother. Johnny and I had no idea the other even existed because my grandfather, who raised me, wanted to keep me in Boston. He lied to me, telling me that my father didn’t want me after my mother died, that he ignored me, never writing or acknowledging birthdays or holidays. But I’ve found out the truth. My father did want me, and he loved me, but I only found out the truth when I came to be with him.
“I know my situation is much different than what you are experiencing, but sometimes the answers to our questions aren’t there for us to see. And it’s aggravating and frustrating, especially for you taking care of your sisters…” he stopped for a moment, then added, “and, you are doing a wonderful job, I might say!” teasing a bit of a smile from her as he nudged her shoulder with his.
“Do you understand what I’m telling you, Alexandra? Sometimes the answers aren’t clear, and sometimes, well, you might not ever know.”
Again, a frown creased her brow, but she said nothing, so he continued.
“Your father made mistakes; everyone makes mistakes, but some more than others. Tell me, did your father brush you girls to the side? Did he ignore you? Did you go without food or necessities because of his shortcomings?”
“Oh, no! Papa loves us! And we had the best that he could manage! He always talked with us and told the most wonderful stories, and we would laugh together! I know he loves us, I know it!”
Scott let her gather her thoughts, put them in order, and waited for her to speak. And finally, she did.
“Mr. Lancer, did Papa really do those awful things he’s accused of?” Alexandra turned to face him, her eyes wide, full of anguish.
“I can’t say if he did or didn’t. Only a jury can decide that. But one thing I can tell you is that, from the things you’ve told me, you three are in his heart — you have his love. If he’s found guilty, he will have to pay for his crimes. You have to know that. Just keep it in your heart that he loves you.”
Did he help her understand this turmoil? Probably not; it was confusing to him, and he was a grown man. How does one explain another’s shortcomings, especially to a confused young daughter? The uncertainties swirling around the girl’s head were confusing and terrifying for her.
Alexandra was silent for a while, then she tilted her head and spoke. “Thank you, Mr. Lancer. That helped… a little.”
“If you want to talk about it, I’ll listen.” He made the offer, the rest was up to her, and he wanted to lighten her train of thought. “Hey, how about you call me Scott? Like Johnny says — when we hear ‘Mr. Lancer’, we always think our father is nearby!”
She smiled.
“Hey, Uncle Val! Look at this!” Maggie squealed with delight.
How he ever got to be Uncle Val was beyond him. What did this young’un see in him to make her want to call him Uncle? The urge to brush her off was strong, but he found himself unable to hurt her feelings. The Cunningham daughters were going through a tough time, and Val didn’t have it in his heart to hurt hers.
“Whatcha got?” he called out. Dang that girl! She better stop runnin’ ahead… he thought as he caught up to her. It was good to hear her happy, though — an hour ago, he thought he might have to console her as she wiped a tear from her eyes, a tear she didn’t want him to see. An angry swipe across her face splintered Val’s heart, piercing it through in a sharp and painful slash.
But now, with something to occupy her troubling thoughts regarding the unknown surrounding her father, she appeared happy, the child she deserved to be. Behind the bright anticipation in her eyes, Val could see the question before it was put to words, and he knew he was in trouble as he watched the bees swarm around the hive.
“Wouldn’t it be nice to have fresh honeycomb? I know my sisters would like some,” she stated as innocently as she could manage. She turned wide, puppy dog eyes on Val, and added a sweet grin for good luck.
Aw hell! How’d I get myself inta these things?
They watched Alexandra as she brushed out Melissa’s hair, taking care not to pull through any snarls. Little Melissa sat quietly, playing with Polly, the ragdoll. Scott noted the tender strokes of the brush as it slid through the silken strands of the auburn locks and thought that Alexandra seemed reserved since their talk, that perhaps she was giving careful consideration to the things Scott had told her.
“I had a talk with Alexandra yesterday,” Scott began.
“Yeah? Everything alright with her? She’s quiet taday,” Johnny said around the blade of grass between his teeth.
“I think she will be. It’s so new, and she has a lot of questions…”
Scott halted his words as a sharp howl echoed through the trees that stopped further conversation.
“Val!” Johnny was on his feet, racing toward potential trouble but not before grabbing his Winchester from the scabbard on his saddle.
“You two stay here! We’ll be right back!” Scott commanded as he retrieved his rifle and followed his brother in the direction of the noise.
Their hearts hammered in their chests, hoping beyond hope things weren’t as bad as they sounded. What trouble lay ahead, and were Val and Maggie alright? They raced through the trees and around boulders, then skidded to a stop at the sight that greeted them.
The scruffy face held a constant grimace of pain, and rightly so. Val’s upper lip swelled rapidly and matched the lid of his left eye. Various welts were beginning to pop in red splotches on the exposed skin of the face, neck, and hands.
“What the hel… heck happened ta you?” Johnny struggled to ask without laughing. Val was on his feet, walking on his own — good signs, but the man looked like hell!
“Just shuddup an’ gimme some a that salve ya got in yer saddlebags… Ow!” he snarled when he touched his lip.
Maggie grinned and, with an animated gesture, held up a bundle wrapped in Val’s bandana; it oozed thick amber drops. “Look what Uncle Val got for us — honeycomb!” She licked her fingers as the sticky goo leaked from the wrap.
Johnny made no attempt to hold back the humor as he went about his errand, relieved that it was only bee stings Val suffered.
Scott grappled with his emotions, not wanting to make light of the sheriff’s discomfort, but the swelling lip, eyelid, and welts distorting the grumpy face, not to mention the growl that mewled in his throat, made it nearly impossible for one to keep his control. And, having noticed Val’s growing attachment to Margaret, it touched him, knowing the scruffy sheriff had a soft spot for this child. Whether Val would ever admit to it or not, and he would not, Val was a soft touch when it came to the girl. In the short time they were together, the girl managed to breach the crusty, gruff façade, infiltrate and overpower the man within. And Val never knew it happened.
“Come on, Sheriff, I’ll get you a cup of coffee,” Scott volunteered.
“Make it a shot a tequila,” Val grumped around his swollen lip.
Maggie raced ahead, anxious to show her sisters the tasty treat.
It was a darned good thing Johnny found the opportunity to wash his soiled bandana as, again, it was put to good use. He couldn’t help the grin as he watched Lissa scrunch her eyes shut and use the cloth to scrub her face free of the viscous honey that covered the skin around her mouth. She enjoyed the honeycomb immensely… and wore it proudly.
Val had laughed when first riding together years ago, and he noted Johnny traveled with a cloth and a bar of soap in his saddle bags. Now he thought it was a good idea that his amigo was so well prepared and hoped the salve Johnny gave him would soon start to work. Yeah, ol’ Madrid was useful ta have around… Well, most of the time…
It was of benefit to Alexandra to care for her sisters; it gave her something to think about other than their father. The girl was too young to navigate through the seriousness of the alleged crimes their father was accused of carrying out, Scott mused, but what could he do to help? He had already told her if she wanted to talk, that he would gladly listen. What else was there to do?
Alexandra knew there wasn’t anything she could do about their current situation, so she used her time studying the three guides. She had already come to a pleasant decision about Scott; his kindness toward her quickly pushed questionable thoughts out of her head. Johnny, where still an enigma, was kind and caring of Melissa. But the sheriff puzzled her, and she set about to find out what sort of man he was. He acted gruff, sometimes sounding disagreeable, nasty even. She formed a plan to find out exactly who Val Crawford was.
The fire put out comforting heat that lulled them into a relaxed state. Alexandra was about to change that. “I think I’d like to tell a story,” she announced.
The suggestion sparked a flash of excitement in the eyes of her sisters.
“This is a story our father liked to tell us on a dark, stormy night.” She looked at the faces surrounding her, noting the varying expressions; Scott was interested, Johnny seemed tolerant, but the Sheriff appeared bored, wanting the story to be over before it began. Well, perhaps the bee stings were paining him.
“Once, a long time ago, there was a man that lived alone in the woods. He fell on hard times and did some very bad things.”
Maggie and Melissa caught the look in each other’s eyes and winked, not letting the men know they were familiar with the story. Alexandra continued, drawing out the suspense and adding a few embellishing touches. On and on she went…
Alexandra glanced at Scott, who encouraged the story, giving an appreciative look. Johnny, still tolerant, but she detected a grin that tugged relentlessly at the corner of his mouth. The Sheriff sat, willing his eyes to other parts of the camp. Was he watching for something… or someone?
“… and the man was dead, a bullet through his heart, but when the search party returned… the body was gone! It is said that he wanders through the forest to this day, looking for his severed hand, his punishment for past wrongdoings, and is left to search for eternity…”
Scott smiled, having heard this story when he was a child in Boston. Johnny sat watching Val, knowing his aversion to ghost stories and the otherworldly. It was more than he could resist, and he reached for a nearby rock and secretly lobbed it into the bushes, making Val jump to his feet in a panicked lurch, complete with a yelp that echoed through the night.
“You jacka—”
“Uh, uh, uh, Val, not in front ‘a the kids!” Johnny laughed.
Scott could no longer hold it back, and the girls joined in at Val’s expense, leaving him embarrassed at the childish tendency.
“Lord A’ Mighty, I hate ghost stories!” Val grumped.
Alexandra found a large piece of the puzzle of Val Crawford. He was much bluff and bluster… with ghost stories anyway!
“Ya look a little peaked this mornin’, Sheriff. Didn’t ya sleep good last night?” Madrid knew he was pushing it, but it was more than he could control, knowing that Val spent most of the night wide awake and listening for… something.
“Ya just shut yer mouth, ya no good rowdy!”
Yup, Val ain’t too happy with me…
The little girl was full of energy as she scampered through the ferns, investigating the wildflowers and observing a bee, legs heavy with pollen, as it flew from blossom to blossom, gathering the food source to take back to the hive. Lissa’s eyes went everywhere, asking Johnny endless questions about everything she saw. And he warned her twice about getting too close to the water.
“Don’t get too close to those rocks, Lissa; they’re slippery that close to the water…” and no sooner than he spoke, little Melissa gasped a split second before she slipped into the cold shallow water; the shriek sent chills straight through his body.
Johnny’s heart was in his throat as he jumped into the river, grabbed Lissa, and pushed her toward the river bank, but in the process, the girl dropped little Polly into the water. Melissa made it out of the shallows… Johnny didn’t when his boot wedged between submerged rocks and was stuck. A sharp pain tore up his leg when a large rock under the water shifted and pinned him against other rocks, solid and unmoving. Shit!
“Oh! Polly! Help me! Polly… she’s… she’s floating away! Help!” Tears welled in Lissa’s eyes as she watched ragdoll Polly float out into the rushing water and lunged after her. “Johnny, get her! You made me drop her! Go get her!”
Lissa scrambled up the bank through the rocks and mud, all the while screaming for Polly as the doll washed along the rapidly flowing water. My Polly! She’s gone! She ran toward their camp as fast as her little legs would carry her, hoping to get help to rescue Polly. Johnny made me drop her!
“SONUVABITCH!” Johnny howled, desperately trying to free his foot from the trap beneath the surface. He pulled with all his strength and, with a mighty yank, was suddenly free but fell against a boulder and cracked his head. Stars swirled in a dizzying display as he tried to pull his thoughts together. Damn, that hurts! Nearly unconscious, the water began to pull him along downstream, following the soaked Polly, both saturated and looking pitiful.
The cold cleared the cobwebs in his head as Johnny fought the water that washed continuously over him, down his throat, and up into his sinuses. What the hell? All this for a damned doll! As soon as he snorted the water out, it filled up again as he bobbed along the surface with all the grace of a rotted-out log. Well, a rotted-out log with a gigantic headache.
He quickly searched the river bank for Lissa, catching a flash of color racing through the trees. Safe… she’s safe! What’d ya gonna do now, Madrid? Whatever it is, do it quick, cuz you’re freezin’ ta death!
The water leached the warmth from his body, chilling him through — he had to get out of there and fast but was swept away, further from their camp. His teeth began to chatter, and he swore just as another cold wave slapped his face, and his body contacted another rock under the surface just for good measure. “D-Damn…” was all he could mutter as river water flowed down his throat, effectively choking off his words. He cast an evil eye on the smiling doll that floated just out of his reach, wanting to punch that grin right off her face.
M-Mierda! This’s the l-l-last time I’m helpin’ the V-V-Val! He gets me in m-more t-t-trouble, an’ I don’t need any help with that! D-Dam-m-mit-all-ta-Hell! Owww! He groaned as his body connected with yet another rock in the water.
He wiped water from his eyes almost a split second too late to see his salvation; he had just enough time to reach out and grab a branch from a fallen tree that lay half into the river.
His hand latched onto a sturdy branch as he began to pull himself out of the current and toward the muddy shore. A spot of color bobbed on the water’s surface, and there, snagged in the branches, floated the saturated rag doll. Her smiling face grinned irritatingly up at him, making it hard to resist throwing the toy back into the river, letting it fend for itself.
“It’s y-your f-f-fault, ya know!” he scowled at Polly, then looked around to make sure no one heard him. There was no way that he could let Scott or Val hear Johnny Madrid talking to a doll!
And there was no more time to think about the doll when he spotted Scott and Val, followed by the Cunningham girls, racing toward him.
“Johnny! Are you alright, brother?” Scott’s question, ridiculous as it was, made him huff as Johnny stumbled onto dry ground, shivering from head to toe. He caught the laugh before it escaped as he watched Johnny struggle to the river bank with the ragdoll clutched in his hand, but after looking closely, Johnny did appear to be strangling Polly as his fingers closed tightly around her neck, bending the head at an odd angle.
As he staggered up the bank, Johnny went to one knee, hitting it on a rock. “Dammit-all-ta-H-Hell!” he muttered. Ain’t ‘nough I’m half drown, gotta break my fuckin’ knee, too!
No, Scott thought, Johnny is not alright! Again, stifling a laugh, he stepped toward his brother. “Come on, Johnny, I’ll help you back to camp. Melissa has been crying about poor Polly washing away. She’ll be happy you rescued her!”
Johnny rolled his eyes. Don’t matter that I was almost ‘washed away’, as long as I got the stupid doll, that’s all that counts…
“Polly! Polly! Oh, I’m so happy to see you! You almost drownded! Are you alright?” Lissa cried as she grabbed the doll from Johnny’s fingers and shot him a stare no less lethal than those of Madrid’s, then cuddled the doll. “You’re fine now, Polly! I won’t let him do that to you again!” The girl cuddled the wet doll, and turned another glare to Johnny as her pudgy bottom lip thrust out in a pout that would make Teresa proud.
Johnny was speechless… There was no ‘Johnny, are you alright?’ or ‘Oh, thank you, Johnny, for saving Polly’. Nope, nothin’.
Val stood gloating at the expression on Johnny’s face. He almost felt sorry for him… What ‘m sayin’? Val would have grinned if his swollen lip hadn’t prevented it.
Grateful for the heat cast from the fire, Johnny sat close to the flames and pulled off first one boot, emptied it of the water, creating a large puddle, then mirrored the motion with the other. Scott retrieved Johnny’s saddle bags and laid them next to his dripping, cold brother.
“Dry socks are going to feel good. I don’t suppose you brought another pair of pants with you?” Scott asked with a raised brow.
With a disgusted shake of his head, a sniff, and a deafening sneeze, Johnny found the clean socks, then pulled out a clean shirt and slipped into it. The bolero jacket hung on a branch to dry, but the calzoneras would have to dry while he wore them. There was no way in hell that Johnny Madrid was going to walk around camp with three young girls while wearing a blanket… Nope, that wasn’t going to happen!
Would he ever feel warm again? He thought not as the chills scurried down his back, making him shiver uncontrollably like a leaf in the wind. He ignored the blatant attempt at smiles Val threw his way; apparently, Val was amused at Johnny’s ‘swim’ to save a doll!
Laugh all ya want, amigo; at least I don’t look like I got caught puttin’ my nose where it don’t belong! Johnny thought Val looked a little worse than he did yesterday… if that were possible; yesterday, he looked a mess, well, more so than usual. Tonight, the lumps on his face, neck, and hands made him look like one of those frog-like things that Scott said were toads, all covered in bumpy skin.
“Here, brother, take this,” Scott urged, taking pity on his sibling as he handed Johnny his bedroll. “It will help keep the chill away.” Johnny looked miserable, sulking and shivering, as he wrapped the extra blanket around him, then glared at the ragdoll as she was doted upon. “You should get out of those wet pants, Johnny. You’re going to catch a cold before you dry off.”
As if timed, an explosive sneeze came close to blowing Johnny’s head from his shoulders, shortly followed by another… and another.
“Too late, Boston,” Johnny groaned.
“Johnny, be sensible,” Scott began, but Val’s chuckle interrupted Scott’s big brother knows better speech.
“Ain’t that kinda funny, Scott? Usin’ ‘sensible an’ Johnny tagether in the same sentence?”
Melissa sat cuddling Polly, softly murmuring, promising that everything would be alright and that she was now safe. She hugged the doll and rocked her, then tucked her snug in the bedroll and ignored Johnny completely.
“Shuddup, Val,” Johnny croaked, then tried to clear his throat. Damn, that hurt! “an tell me how far we hafta go before we get ta Sacramento?”
“At the rate we been goin’, another two days,” he growled cynically, rolling his eyes in vexation. “That is if there ain’t any more delays! Yer swim taday didn’t do nothin’ but put us behind another day, ya know!” His eye narrowed accusingly, the other swollen shut.
Irritation began to boil over — there Val sat in front of him, looking like a pin cushion full of bee stingers, and he had the gall to blame Johnny for pulling Melissa… and Polly out of the river, causing more of a delay. Johnny opened his mouth to retaliate.
Scott pursed his lips; this was getting them nowhere, and in no uncertain terms, he let them know it. “You two are worse than children!” He stood, put his hands on his hips, and glared. Mr. Puffy Face and Mr. Chattering Teeth had the grace to close their mouths before Scott, relishing his role as the Big Brother Peace Keeper, reduced them to the obnoxious and ill-mannered adolescents that they were acting… Especially in front of the Cunningham girls. They were Johnny Madrid and Val Crawford, after all! Not undisciplined twelve-year-old juveniles! Scott shook his head.
“It’s no fault of either of you as to what happened, so let’s just try and get along, shall we? Johnny! Get out of those wet pants! You’ll catch pneumonia!”
Alexandra, Maggie, and Lissa could not contain the giggles that flowed as they listened to the chastising remarks, enjoying every second, but their undoing was the piercing stares the men leveled at the other; then, as if rehearsed, they simultaneously grumped out, “Your fault…” at the other.
Scott threw his hands in the air, thinking he would rather deal with Green River’s terror Smithson brothers!
“Let’s just get along!”
Unknowingly, Scott would have to eat his words. But for now, he was thankful Johnny complied with his wishes and got out of his wet pants, but he had to chastise the cursing when a gust of cold mountain air blew under the blanket clutched around Johnny’s waist, chilling his… nether regions. And the girls giggled a little more.
They were deceptive little creatures, that was for certain. They looked fluffy and soft, the kind of animal that made you want to reach out and touch the silky black and white fur. If it hadn’t been for that big tail as it began to rise, Scott would have smiled as he delighted in the wonders of Mother Nature. But when the south end of that critter took deadly aim that rivaled the accuracy of Johnny Madrid’s bullet, Scott knew they were in trouble. He swiftly sidestepped into Alexandra, his duty as her protector first and foremost in his mind, deflected her ‘off course’ and escaped the main barrage… mostly. With the young damsel out of range and entirely safe, his role of the Knight In Shining Armor took an alarming turn toward the Wretch of the Tarnished and Disheveled.
The rock under his boot upset his balance, and propelled Scott down the steep slope, tumbling him into unyielding boulders below to land in an undignified pile twenty-five feet below. He came to a bone-jarring stop as pain ripped up his leg as the stench began to permeate his senses. Fairly certain Miss Cunningham was alright, Scott’s thoughts turned dark evil, wanting nothing more than to put a bullet into the damnable little varmint that was now happily scampering its way into the next valley.
It was going to hurt, but Scott dragged himself to his feet, and promptly fell over, the ankle not able to bear his weight. Evil, black visions boiled in his head, toxic poisons bubbling in a witch’s cauldron as he hoped the waddling rat-like little bastard would soon be lunch for a hungry hawk. He pulled his scattering thoughts together and summoned his brother.
“Johnny! I need help!” Would Johnny hear him? His brother woke up with a rasping, harsh cough, runny nose, and red watery eyes; there was no doubt Johnny was feeling lousy and with a lousy disposition to match. But that couldn’t be helped. Scott needed Johnny’s assistance, and he needed it now!
The distress call reached his ears, and for two cents, Johnny was ready to ignore it. But he couldn’t. It did rankle him that he spent last night dressed in a blanket with no pants… in front of the Cunningham girls… and they all thought it very funny… especially Val. And it didn’t help that every time he looked at Scott, he was trying to hide his grin, and then the girls started in again. It wasn’t funny!
An’ now he needs my help… This better be good! It sounded like trouble, and Johnny quickened his pace, running toward the summons for help. His not-quite-dry leather pants felt thick and heavy, and sent raw chills up and down over his body. They impeded the fast pace, and the boots were still quite soggy, making his feet slide inside them, but he pushed that aside; Scott could be in serious trouble.
And then it hit him. The odor was unmistakable. There was only one thing that smelled that bad! Skunk. Alexandra ran to him, shaken, and excitedly pointed in the other direction. “Johnny! Scott, he fell! I think he’s hurt!”
Johnny ran quickly over the rough terrain, dodging boulders, between trees, and came to the edge of a small ravine. And the smell grew stronger with every step. He skidded to a stop on slightly unsteady legs and grabbed a tree to ensure he didn’t follow Scott down the side. Looking down the steep bank, he saw his brother trying to straighten himself out from the ungainly tangle from the tumble into the rocks. His call was brutally cut off when he attempted to draw air into his lungs — the stench of the skunk’s spray hung heavy in the air.
And Johnny sneezed. Through watery eyes, he looked down at his brother as he attempted to get to his feet but abruptly plopped down on a rock. Scott grabbed at his boot, then turned to Johnny.
“Well, are you just going to stand there sneezing? I need some help now!”
“Hey, no need ta get nasty. What happened ta ‘can’t we just get along?’” Johnny threw Scott’s words back at him. “Gonna tell me what happened?” Johnny asked as he struggled down the slope. The further he went, the stronger the odor got. Hell, he was going to have to hold his breath; but breathing through his mouth was not an option — the taste of the spray that hung thick and strong in the air was worse than the smell, but he wondered if the stench would clear his stuffy nose.
Scott grimaced as he tried to take a step, but the ankle was having no part in it. He looked pitifully at Johnny and described the unfortunate incident. As miserable as Johnny looked with his red-rimmed eyes and red, runny nose, it did nothing to restrict the congested laugh that bubbled to the surface.
“What the hell did you do, Boston?” he questioned, trying not to breathe any more than he had to.
“Never mind! Just get down here and help me!” Scott bellowed as he clutched his ankle.
“Damn, Scott! What’d ya do? Try an’ cuddle a skunk?” The stink grew with every step Johnny took, and it occurred to him that the closer he got, the more his nose cleared. But the more his nose cleared, the worse the stink became. Either way, Johnny had a hard time breathing.
“I didn’t take a direct hit, but that spray is oily and hangs in the air. My left side took most of it…”
Johnny immediately went to Scott’s right and muttered a curse, something about brothers and skunks, then wrestled Scott up the slope. He stopped to cough, then he tied his bandana around his face, hoping to ease the fetor that was enshrouded Scott. Promising himself that Scott would repay him — Johnny began the arduous trek back up the steep slope with the reminder to not take his boot off.
“Gimme that shirt, Scott.” Johnny grumped.
Scott was hesitant. “Why?” he asked with narrowed eyes. He’d sacrificed too many shirts to Val and Johnny over the few years they’d been together.
Johnny turned his red, watery stare on his brother. “I’m gonna bury it…”
“No, you’re not! It can be clea…”
“Buried… Scott, nothin’ is gonna clean that stink outta that shirt. Just take it off and get another one. I know ya got one in them saddlebags!”
“I know you’ve got one in those saddlebags,” Alexandra repeated, almost word for word.
“See!” Johnny exclaimed, “Even Lexi knows ya got one in there!”
Lexi rolled her eyes. So did Scott. Maggie and Val giggled.
Johnny tossed the leather bags to his brother, Scott took off his shirt and threw it at Johnny, who let it fall to the ground, vowing not to touch it and chance getting the stink on him. With the aid of a stout branch, he scooped it up and took it out of camp.
Lexi finally got to see Scott without his shirt. She blushed.
“But I have to go now!” It was a pitiful plea, but it was also serious.
“Melissa, you went before we settled down,” Alexandra was perturbed.
“No, it’s not that kind… it’s the other kind! I need to hurry! Pleasssse!”
”I don’t want to go out in the dark! Just go back to sleep!”
Melissa was desperate. “I have to go now!”
“Hey, what’s goin’ on? Ya alright over here?” Johnny asked in hushed tones, his guard duty disrupted by the whines.
“No! I have to… you know!” Melissa whimpered.
Johnny hid the tug at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I know. Alright, little one, come on.”
Lissa crawled out from her blanket and followed Johnny out of camp.
How long is this gonna take? Johnny wondered, thinking she should have been done by now… “You almost done, Lissa? What’s takin’ so long?” How long did it take a girl ta pee, anyway?
“Yes, I’m almost done.”
Johnny breathed a sigh of relief, then sneezed.
“Johnny?”
“Yeah, Lissa?”
“I… well, I need…”
“What?”
“I need something to… to wipe myself with…”
Johnny’s head bent forward as his chin flopped on his chest. Damn, Scott better have an extra bandana with him… Johnny lobbed his over the rock that divided him and the ‘busy’ little girl.
Three minutes later, Lissa came around the rock looking much relieved.
“All done?” Johnny asked as she walked toward him.
“Yes.”
They walked a few steps, then, “Johnny?”
“Yeah?”
“I know you didn’t mean to almost drownded Polly. I’m sorry I got mad at you.”
Johnny held in the chuckle, but he also wanted to make her aware of the importance of doing what he told her to do. He stopped and put a hand on her head.
“Lissa, I wanna talk ta you.”
She turned to face him, the moonlight sparkled in her eyes, accenting the innocence he saw beneath those brilliant points of light. “What do you want to talk about?”
“C’mon over here an’ we can siddown.”
A moss-covered log lying on the ground provided an acceptable seat, and they settled onto it.
“Do you remember what I told you right before you slipped off that rock an’ went inta the water?”
She looked away, then down at her hands folded in her lap. Finally, she answered. “Yes.”
“What did I say?” he asked of her.
With head bowed, she answered. “You told me not to get too close to the rocks. That they were slippery.”
Johnny nodded, then, his soft tones continued, “That’s right. And what did you do?”
“I got too close.”
“And what happened?”
“I fell in the water, and I droppeded Polly.” The little bottom lip made another appearance.
“It’s dangerous in these mountains, an’ I don’t want cha ta get hurt, ya know? That’s why you need ta listen when I tell ya somethin’. Do ya understand, Lissa?”
She sniffed, then turned tear-filled eyes on him. They sparkled more than before, Johnny thought. “Yes, I understand, Johnny.”
“Good. Are you alright?” he asked as his smile slid into place.
“Yes,” she said as her smile grew into a grin.
“Let’s get back to camp,” Johnny said as he got to his feet, and Lissa took his hand in hers.
Then she stopped and looked up at him. “Johnny? I really didn’t think you tried to drownded Polly. I was just scared when I said that.”
Johnny wanted to laugh, but he didn’t. “Well, that’s good, cuz I’da never done nothin’ that low-down.”
“Johnny?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I ride with you on Bar-bar-ranca tomorrow?”
“Sure can. I’d miss you if you didn’t.”
“Johnny?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re talking funny.”
“Yup, I got a cold.” The words had scarcely left his mouth when he began to sneeze.
Murdoch Lancer was not a happy man. Just how long did it take to travel that distance? Those sons of mine are stretching this into a longer than necessary trip! When I see them, they are going to wish they’d been conducting themselves like the adults they’re supposed to be! This is unacceptable!
They were miserable. Val suffered from the bee stings; the poison continued to circulate within his body, causing pain and itch; his body took exception and tried to fight back, leaving the man hurting and exhausted. Val grumped, wondering how simple bee stings could lay him so low.
Johnny fared no better as the effects from prolonged exposure to the cold river wracked him with chills prompting him to sneeze and cough his way through the mountains.
Scott battled his own war with the badly sprained ankle that sent pain racing up his leg and spine and made a bee-line straight to his brain. In the end, Johnny had to slit the boot down the seam, then wrap it securely lest the circulation be cut off completely.
They created a pitiful sight, but soon they would be in Sacramento. They would take the girls to Aunt Henrietta’s, spend the night, then board the train to Cross Creek. In another two days, they would be home. Hopefully. What else could go wrong?
It was their last night on the trail. They made an early camp, and after taking their supper and enjoying the warmth of the fire and shimmering stars, a sense of comfort settled over the girls. It seemed that once exposed to the finer points of life outdoors, the Cunningham girls began to enjoy the benefits and indulgences that could be found in nature. The simple things they had never realized before. And for the rest of their lives, Alexandra, Margaret, and Melissa Cunningham would never forget this memorable time in their lives and the men that made this journey memorable for them.
Though Val, Scott, and Johnny would remember it for different reasons, they would have enjoyed this time had it not been for the mishaps, illness, and accident that befell them with painful consequences.
Alexandra had given serious thought to their dilemma regarding the situation of their father and themselves. She realized this trip to Aunt Henrietta’s could not be avoided, that it had to be until their father was allowed to return to them. She felt compelled to express her feelings and apologize for her earlier reactions.
Her heart thundered within her; she had never done anything like this before, so with tentative and halting first words, she asked for the attention of the three men sitting alongside them at the fire.
“I’d like to say something, please. As this is probably our last night together, I need to issue an apology for my behavior back in Carson City. Looking back, I’m ashamed of the way I acted and the trouble I caused you all. You were there to help us, and I didn’t make it any easier for you. I hope you will accept my most sincere apology.” Was it enough? She waited and watched their faces. Scott was the first to react with a broad smile that made her heart flutter.
“There is nothing to apologize for, Alexandra. You were put in a position where you had no control and took responsibility for your sisters. You are to be commended, young lady!”
“I ain’t much good at this, but ya done yerself proud, Lexi!”
She rolled her eyes. “I did myself proud!” she corrected.
“Now, ain’t that what I jus’ said?” Val asked with a frown creasing his brow.
And Lexi now found the humor in Val’s words and laughed.
“Ya did what cha had ta do, Lexi. Ya took care of your sisters, an’ ya did a good job. I know ya made your Papa proud.”
Johnny’s remark touched her heart, and her eyes welled. She looked at them and smiled. “Thank you, all!”
The compliments made her blush and touched her heart, but also liberated her in a way she didn’t then understand. She felt she had conducted herself as an adult in admitting her faults and shortcomings. And they acknowledged her with kindness.
Though unexpected, Maggie drew in a deep breath. “Well, I think I need to apologize, too, for making Uncle Val,” at this moment, Johnny and Scott burst into laughter. The term ‘uncle’, when used in reference to their gruff and grumpy friend, sent them into fits of silliness, even though the pain from Scott’s leg and Johnny’s coughs and sneezes gripped them in misery.
Maggie cleared her throat to get their attention, then continued. ‘… for making Uncle Val get stung by those bees just to get that honeycomb!”
“Hey, don’t worry about that, Maggie,” Johnny said, trying to ease her guilt. “I think it’s an improvement!” Johnny quipped, referring to Val’s still-swollen and lumpy face.
“You just wait, ya rowdy! When we get back ta Green River, I’m gonna lock ya up for bein’ a …”
“Uh, uh, uh, Val! Don’t be talkin’ that way in fronta the girls!” Johnny chuckled.
Val huffed. Everyone else laughed.
Lissa looked around and knew she had something to say. “Johnny, I’m sorry you got sick trying to save my Polly. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
Her voice, feather soft, and eyes welling with tears again, pierced Johnny’s heart.
“Do you want to sleep with Polly tonight? She’ll make you feel better!”
The tiny smile was almost his undoing, and Val began to laugh, thinking about the notorious Johnny Madrid sleeping with a ragdoll tucked safely in his arms for the night.
Ha! He ain’t never gonna live that one down! Val thought.
In the distance, thunder rumbled, prompting the three lawmen to check the skies. They were in for a storm. It was a long, wet night, finding Val, Scott, and Johnny circling the girls, doing their best to protect them from the cold wind and rain, looking much like a giant mushroom as the men draped their slickers over them in the shelter of the rocks.
The bedraggled group of six entered Sacramento, going straight to the Sheriff’s Office in search of Henrietta Cunningham. Directions were given, and soon they stood in front of the beautiful home. A wide front porch hugged the residence, bordered by colorful flower gardens. A large swing hung from a tree as birds sang their sweet songs and created a space of comfort… of home.
Aunt Henrietta stood hugging the girls as she thanked the men for getting her beloved nieces safely to her door, but she suspiciously snuffed the air when she got a bit too close to Scott. Although the stench was fainter now than it had been, it was still quite noticeable, and she turned a questioning eye on him. All Scott could do was smile, then, “It’s a long story,” and looked away.
She graciously stepped back to let the girls say their goodbyes.
Alexandra’s stomach flipped over as Scott bent and kissed her cheek. Her words stumbled over themselves, and she found herself unable to speak, but Scott came to her rescue.
“It’s been a pleasure to know you, Miss Cunningham. I wish you well and remember what we talked about. And more than anything, please do not give up hope. Things have a way of working out. You’ll see.”
Maggie could no longer hold back; she raced to Val and threw her arms around his waist. “I’m going to miss you, Uncle Val!” She held herself together until Val wrapped his arms around her, then she began to sob. Val found it hard to keep his emotions together and blinked away the water welling in his eyes, not caring if anyone saw him.
Lissa, with Polly in one hand, held Johnny in a tight grip. Tears traced down her cheeks, the hitch in her voice made it too hard to talk, but she had discussed it with Polly the night before and tried to tell Johnny their plan. She hiccupped, then handed the doll to him.
“Johnny, Polly, and I talked this over, and, well, we… Polly wants to go with you.”
The tiny hand clutched the stained and now torn doll, willing to entrust her into Johnny Madrid Lancer’s care.
Johnny touched the doll and waited for the lump in his throat to subside before he could speak. “Ya know what, Lissa? I think I’m gonna let you care for her. How about that? You keep her for me an’ cuz I don’t think she’d like workin’ with smelly cows all day. You’ve done a pretty good job of that by keepin’ her safe through those mountains, little one. You keep her; can ya do that for me?”
Lissa’s eyes brightened, then she hugged Johnny goodbye, despite the fact he had a cold.
Cross Creek had never looked so good. Though Lancer was still several hours away, it was a comfort to know they were close. The inactive time spent on the train left them stiffened and feeling lousy, but tonight they would be spending time in their own beds. The trip was over; the girls were safe at Aunt Henrietta’s in Sacramento, and Lancer was near.
Murdoch Lancer sat at his desk, realizing how wrong he’d been thinking about his sons and the reason for their delay in helping in their ‘civic duty’. The humor began as a twitch at the corner of his mouth, but it didn’t stop there. It grew to a chuckle, then he couldn’t hold back the laugh that soon had his sides aching as he recalled the sight and listened to the banter that greeted him as he opened the heavy wooden door to the Lancer hacienda.
There before him stood his sons and Val Crawford, appearing much worse than when they had left. The sheriff looked pathetic and wretched from the bee stings; Scott limped as his foot, ensconced with his ‘altered boot, and hopped along with the help of Johnny, whose constant sneezing and coughing told Murdoch of a trip that didn’t go exactly as planned. And… wait! What was that stench? One of them had, no doubt, tangled with a skunk!
Then, he wondered the fate of the Cunningham women.
Murdoch insisted that Val stay the night; Teresa secretly sent a rider for Doctor Sam Jenkins — all three needed medical attention. He could not wait to hear this story! He knew it would be… an adventure, to say the least.
The commotion as they ascended to their rooms on the second floor drew his attention.
“Oww! Don’t touch that!”
“Watch what… aachooo!! you’re doin’! Shit, Boston, ya still stink!” Acchhooo!
“Help me, Johnny, don’t just leave me standing here on one foot!”
“I ain’t getting’ any… achoo- achoo closer ta you ‘n I hafta!”
“Would you two jus’ shuddup?”
Murdoch watched them navigate the stairs.
Oh, if only I’d have been there! None of this would have happened!
End
September 2023
.
PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT
Thank you for reading! The authors listed on this site spend many hours writing stories for your enjoyment, and their only reward is the feedback you leave. So please take a moment to leave a comment. Even the simplest ‘I liked this!” can make all the difference to an author and encourage them to keep writing and posting their stories here. You can comment in the ‘reply’ box below or email Buckskin direct
I just have to smile at the end of this story. Three young girls getting the best of Val, Scott and Johnny. Thank you for sharing with us.
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Hi, Becca
It wasn’t the job the guys thought it would be, but they came through, although a tad bumped, bruised, and sniffling. The girls were safe and the men went home, forgetting their disappointment and a bit lighter of heart.
Thanks for reading and the feedback!
Diana
Buckskin
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I just loved this. 🙂
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I really enjoyed your new story! I love my story with Val in it. He certainly met his match with a 15 year old! Lol
I burst out laughing at this
Johnny couldn’t help the snort of humor and did not bother to hide it, asking, “Hey Val, ya need some help capturin’ this… pillow desperado?”
Little Melissa is a smart girl… Little Melissa had attached herself to Johnny’s hip
Alexandria is no slouch other… She concentrated on the blond, taking in every detail, his height, the grace with which he moved, and she felt a growing appreciation for him. She blushed as her thoughts wandered. What would he look like with no shirt to cover him? Where had that come from? And she blushed a deeper red.
All three men were very good with these girls.
Thank you for sharing this story. I enjoyed it very much.
Em
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Another great story. Heart warming, moving and funny. Thank you and please continue to write.
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Another wonderful story! Thank you for sharing!
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Thank you for this beautiful story.
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Enjoyable as all your stories (lucky Cunningham sisters)!
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I enjoyed this story. It would have made a great episode. There should have been more of Val in Lancer.
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I knew this story was going to be good when I read the title. How Hard Can It Be is a real adventure-I don’t know whether I liked Scott and the skunk or Val and the bees better-thank you for sharing this unforgettable story.
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Hi, Debra
I’m happy you liked this ‘trail of trouble’ story. The guys had their hands full with the girls, and with city girls in the picture, I had to throw some ‘country-style’ hiccups in the tale.
Thanks for reading and commenting.
Diana
Buckskin
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This would have made a great episode for the show; the three children each attaching themselves to the men: the Wet and Wild Johnny Madrid saves the day for rescuing not bandits but Polly, a rag doll, Uncle Val suffers the demise of being bit by bees, and Stinky Scott smelling like skunk while simultaneously enduring a sprained ankle as the girls are all safe and sound. Again, this outdoor adventure would have been a good idea for an episode entitled: “Trouble Travels in Threes.” The tale of woes suffered by the three is quite entertaining and perfectly plausible – only happening to Sheriff Val Crawford and the two distinctively different personalities of the Lancer brothers: one charming and educated whereas the other sensitive and caring to risk his own life for a young girl and her doll!
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Hi, Carol
Thank you for reading and sending feedback. I appreciate it.
Yes, all three men had a ‘shadow’ in this story, and all three suffered the consequences. Val was embarrassed getting stung by the bees, Scott suffered the indignities of getting sprayed by a skunk. Then Johnny Madrid nearly drowned in a river but did manage to save the doll. Your title has merit – it would have suited the episode perfectly!
Thanks again!
Diana
Buckskin
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Schadenfreude
Yeah, I own it.
Lots of fun was had by all at least on this side of the page!
~ Shelly ~
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Thank you, Shelly. I’m glad you liked this tale of troubles!
Diana
Buckskin
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I just love all the posts! Thank you!
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Thank you for reading!
Diana
Buckskin
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