Louder Than Words by SandySha

Word count 29,847

With excerpts from the original aired episode and script written by Laurence Heath
Thanks to my beta, Doc.  As always, she’s tried to keep me on the straight and narrow.
 Any mistakes are mine.

#2 in the Lawman Series

Episode Tag:  The Lawman

**

“More coffee?”

Startled, Murdoch turned from looking out the French doors to see Teresa holding a coffee pot.

“What?”

“Coffee?” She motioned towards the cup on his desk.

“No.” He raised a hand and waved her off.  “No, thank you, sweetheart.  I’ve had my limit this morning.”

“Well, if you change your mind…”

“I know,” he smiled.  “I’ll let you know.” Murdoch walked to his desk and sat down. “Right now, I need to get to work.”

“You work too hard,” Teresa said with a smile.  “You should let Scott or Johnny help you.” 

Murdoch laughed.  “Scott… maybe, but Johnny….  I think he’d rather be out there than sitting in here.  Besides, we’ve been busy the last few weeks, and I need to catch up.”

Teresa took a deep breath and nodded.  “It does feel good to have the house all to ourselves.  Doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does.”

“Don’t get me wrong—I enjoyed having Polly and little Martha Ann with us, but I’m ready for us just to be us again.”

Murdoch nodded in total agreement. Yesterday, the family said farewell to Polly and Gant Foley’s granddaughter. Scott had taken it upon himself to make sure they were safely on the train leaving Cross Creek for San Francisco, where Murdoch’s friends had arranged work for Polly.

While Murdoch looked at his desk, Teresa walked back to the kitchen, humming as she went. Shaking his head, he began poring over the mountains of papers and contracts that kept a ranch the size of Lancer running.   Normally, he would be grumbling about the job on such a beautiful June day, but today, he felt content.

After months of uncertainty and dealing with one problem after another…Day Pardee, Morgan Price, the incident with Sam Stryker, and just three weeks ago, Gant Foley, life at Lancer was starting to settle into a comfortable routine.  Well… as settled as possible with both his sons home for only a few months. 

After Scott and Johnny joined him, it took time to adjust to having them in his life. However, with Johnny bedridden due to Pardee’s bullet, Murdoch had the opportunity to spend some quality time with Scott.  During their lively conversations, he discovered a shared love of reading, classical music, and the theater, as well as their mutual interest in discussing political views.

When Johnny was back on his feet again, Murdoch felt like he was starting over.  Despite being brothers, Scott and Johnny were two distinct individuals. Scott had been easy to get along with, took direction, and jumped into ranch life, excited to learn as he went.  

Murdoch soon found that as much as he wanted, he couldn’t find common ground with his youngest son.  In the four months they’d been together, all he’d been able to do was confirm Johnny was a man of few words who possessed an unpredictable and independent spirit.  There was no doubt that the boy had been on his own far too long to fall into step with the rest of them at the snap of a finger. 

The biggest problem Murdoch had with his son was getting him to do as he was told, but then he was reminded of the words Johnny spoke on that second day when the angry young man stormed out of Scott’s bedroom, proclaiming, “I never was much good at taking orders.”

Murdoch shook his head and smiled.  The term ‘never were truer words spoken’ came to mind.

If life wasn’t hard enough, Johnny still clung to a lifetime of hatred for him.  He’d seen it slowly melting away; still, there were times he caught blue eyes sizing him up, daring him to prove his mother had been right and that Murdoch Lancer didn’t want the mixed-heritage boy.  His heart ached in those moments, not knowing what to say or how to show this young man he’d always wanted him.

---

Murdoch’s peaceful musings were interrupted by the low rumble and clatter of a wagon.  Standing, he walked out the French doors to the front portico.  He smiled when he saw the familiar site of the Lancer buckboard rolling under the arch.

As the wagon came to a halt in front of the house, a cloud of dust rose into the air and slowly settled around it.   Walt raised a hand in greeting, “Mr. Lancer.”

“Walt.”  Murdoch returned the gesture.  “Did you have any trouble getting what we needed?”

“No, sir.  Got everything on the list.”  Walt reached into a sack next to his feet.  “Got the mail too.  Looks like you hit the mother lode.  There’s a telegram in there and two newspapers.”

“Two?”

“Yes, sir, looks like one is from San Francisco and the other is from Sacramento.”

It wasn’t often that both newspapers came in at the same time.  The Sacramento Bee arrived once a week like clockwork, but the San Francisco Chronicle usually didn’t show up for at least two weeks after everyone else in the state already knew what was going on.

“Thank you.” Murdoch reached up, took the bundle from Walt, and glanced at the stack of letters.  “Get a couple of the hands to help you unload the wagon.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Lancer.”  Walt snapped the reins, and the wagon rumbled past, heading towards the barn.

Looking at the mail, Murdoch sighed.  It was a sure bet he’d be working well into the evening.  Walking inside, he went straight to the Great Room, tossed the bundle on his desk, and looked towards the drink cart. 

Walking across the room, he scanned the cart before selecting a bottle of Talisker, poured it into a tumbler, and took a sip. The warm burn of the amber liquid spread throughout his body. 

With a drink in hand, he moved to his chair, sat, and leaned his head back.  He hadn’t realized how tired he was.   Martha Ann’s nightly cries had kept him and everyone else awake.  Hopefully, now that things had quieted down and without a baby in the house, he could get some rest. 

Resigning himself to the task at hand, Murdoch set the newspapers aside and started on the mail, opening the telegram first.  As he read, a smile spread across his face.

.

 9 June, 1870
Murdoch Lancer
Morro Coyo, California

Escorting prisoner to Sacramento next week.  Stop.  Plan to stop at Lancer.  Stop.  Should arrive by Saturday the 18^th.  Stop.   Two deputies.  Stop. Need a place to keep prisoner.  Stop.

Joe Barker

.

Murdoch leaned his head back and breathed a sigh of relief.   Spending a few days with an old and dear friend was exactly what he needed. 

He hadn’t seen Joe for almost twenty years, not since he’d left Abilene.  Of course, they’d kept in touch, but seeing each other hadn’t been in the cards.  

A year ago, he was alone. At the time, he thought there was no hope of his sons coming home. Scott was a grown man, well-established in Boston society, and the heir to Harlan Garrett’s empire.  Scott had never responded to any of Murdoch’s letters, and the only conclusion a heartbroken father could come to was that his oldest son didn’t want anything to do with him.

Years of searching had turned up nothing about Johnny. Nine years earlier, the Pinkertons reported finding records at the Mission in Hermosillo of Maria Lancer’s death and burial. As for their son, his fate remained a mystery, and Murdoch had no idea where the boy was or even if he was alive.

He had just received a letter from Joe Barker saying he was thinking of retiring in the next few years, so he penned a letter to Joe offering his friend a partnership in the ranch.

When there was no response, Murdoch forgot about it.  Now, he was thankful Joe had never responded because a few months after sending Joe the offer, he’d been shot and Paul O’Brien killed.  That’s when he directed the Pinkertons to find both boys, if possible, offer them $1000 for an hour of their time, and ask them to come to Lancer.

After two decades, Murdoch’s prayers were answered, and Scott took him up on his offer right away. 

It seemed as though fate had intervened in the discovery of Johnny. The connection between John Lancer and Johnny Madrid was entirely coincidental, and the Pinkerton detective who was tasked with finding Madrid stumbled upon him mere moments before the young man was scheduled to be executed.

Scott and Johnny arrived at the same time, and in a desperate attempt to get their help and keep them at Lancer, he had offered them a partnership of one-third each of the ranch.

It was the best deal he’d ever made.

Reaching for a pen and paper, he looked at the calendar. Today was Friday, the tenth.  If he got a reply out today, it would get to Joe in plenty of time.

.

10 June, 1870
Marshal Joe Barker
Porterville, California

Looking forward to visit.  Stop.  Will have guardhouse ready. Stop. Hope you can stay for long visit. Stop.

Murdo

.

After finishing the message, Murdoch walked outside and looked around. Waving the paper in the air, he called out to the first man he saw, “Frank!”

The young black man hurried across the yard.  “Mr. Lancer?”

“Frank, I want you to take this to the telegraph office.  See if they can get it sent off today.”

“Yes, sir.”  Frank turned and started away. 

“Oh, and Frank.” Murdoch reached in his vest pocket, pulled out a five-dollar gold piece, and flipped it to the ranch hand.  “Use this to send the telegram and then stop by the saloon and get yourself a drink before you come back.”

The young man grinned as he plucked the coin out of the air.  “Yes, sir, Mr. Lancer, and thank you.”

Murdoch walked back inside and sat down at his desk.  Thinking it over, he decided that night after dinner, he’d call their first family meeting and let everyone know of the upcoming visit.

---

“I’d better help clear the dishes.” Teresa reached for the empty platters on the table.

“No, Teresa, let Maria take care of that.”  Murdoch looked around the table.  “I want you to join us in the Great Room.  I have something to tell you.”

Johnny looked at Scott and shrugged.  

Scott pushed back from the table and waited for his brother.  They both followed Murdoch.

“Is something wrong, Sir?”

“No, Scott.  Not at all,” Murdoch replied without turning.  He headed for the drink cart and reached for the Talisker.  “Does anyone else want an after-dinner drink?”

He looked over his shoulder and held up the bottle.  “Scott?”

“Yes.  Thank you.”

“Johnny?  Tequila?”

Johnny shook his head.  “Not right now.”  Then, as an afterthought. “Thanks.” 

Murdoch hesitated a moment before asking sixteen-year-old Teresa.  “Teresa, would you like some sherry?  Just a taste.”  When she smiled and nodded, he added, “Just this once.”

Johnny eased onto the sofa.  “We celebrating something?” 

Murdoch couldn’t hide the excitement in his voice.  “In a manner of speaking.  Today, I received a telegram from a very old and dear friend.  He’s a marshal in Porterville.  He’s escorting a prisoner to Sacramento next week and plans to stop here.  According to his telegram, he should be here by Saturday the eighteenth.”

“What’s your friend’s name?” Johnny asked.

“Joe Barker.”  Murdoch looked at his son’s expression. “Do you know him?”

Johnny shook his head.  “Don’t think so.  Any reason I should?”

“No, not really.  Joe has worked in the Arizona and New Mexico territories.  I just thought you might…”

Before Johnny could reply, Teresa piped in, bubbling over with excitement that matched Murdoch’s. “Oh, Murdoch, that’s wonderful.  Maybe he’ll be here in time for the social.”

“Maybe he will.  I’d like him to meet some of the neighbors.”

“Porterville?” Scott glanced at Johnny.

Johnny cocked his head, thinking.  “Small town about… 240 miles south?”

Murdoch nodded.  “That’s right.”

Scott took a sip of his drink.  “So, a marshal?  How do you know him?”

“I’ve known Joe for twenty years,” Murdoch smiled.  “I meet him for the first time in        Reynosa —.”

Johnny’s head came up.  “Mexico?  What were you doing in Reynosa?”

Murdoch hesitated momentarily before answering, “I was there on … business.”  He cleared his throat. “Anyway, we got to talking over a few drinks and became friends.  Later, the people of Abilene offered him a job and took me on as his deputy.”

What Murdoch didn’t say was that during the year he’d been Joe’s deputy, he had returned to Mexico twice, searching every border town, looking for his wife and son. 

“You wore a badge?” Johnny’s eyes widened.

Murdoch chuckled, “Don’t look so surprised. I have done more than ranching. Besides, things were different then.  The ranch wasn’t making much of a profit, and I needed the money. I worked for Joe for almost a year.”

“Daddy told me about you being a deputy sheriff years ago,” Teresa spoke up. “He said you were gone for months at a time back then.”

Seeing his father hesitate again, Scott jumped in. “Tell us more about your friend.”

Murdoch looked at Scott, thankful he’d taken the attention away from the ‘why’ of his being in Mexico.  Joe knew all about it, but he wasn’t ready to tell Johnny about the months he’d spent looking for him and his mother.  That would come in time when they were on more solid ground.  For now, they were still feeling their way. 

“So, where’s he from?  Texas?”  Johnny asked.

“Yes… and no,” Murdoch answered.  “Joe was born back east… Tennessee, I think he said.  He was the oldest of six children.  Joe was eleven when his father died during the cholera epidemic of ‘31. That’s when his mother moved the family to Alabama to live with her brother.  He told me they weren’t in Alabama long before his uncle moved the families to Texas.

“In ‘36, while I was still in school in Scotland, Joe was in Texas, helping in the fight for independence from Mexico.”

Johnny couldn’t help but smile.  “You sure know a lot about him.”

“Yes, I do.” Murdoch stood and refilled his glass.  “I’ve found that to understand a man, you have to know about his past.”

Once again, he glanced at Johnny before sitting again.

The smile slipped from Johnny’s face. “Is that the only way you can understand someone, to know about their past?” His soft, low voice sent a shiver through the room.

Murdoch paused, knowing they weren’t talking about Joe Barker any longer.  “No.  No, it’s not, but it helps.  Joe and I spent a lot of time talking.”

Scott saw where the conversation was headed and drew them back to the subject of Joe Barker. “So, how old was he when he became a lawman?”

Once again, Murdoch silently thanked Scott for helping direct the conversation.  “Twenty.  That’s when he took his first job as a deputy and twenty-five when he became the Sheriff of Corpus Christi.”

“How old was he when you met him?”

“Let’s see. That was 1850, so Joe would have been 30.”

“And how old were you?” Teresa asked.

Murdoch cleared his throat.  “Joe and I are the same age.”

“That old, uh….”

Murdoch’s brow furrowed, and he started to reply when he saw a faint smile on Johnny’s face and a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

And just like that, the tension of a few moments earlier vanished as if it had never happened.

Murdoch was overjoyed that his family would soon meet one of his oldest friends, and he happily spent an evening telling them all about Joe Barker and the stories of being the man’s deputy in Abilene.

The more Murdoch talked, the more excited he became.  More than anything, he was looking forward to spending time with his friend, introducing Joe to his sons, and showing him the empire he’d built. 

---

Thursday, the sixteenth of June, started on a high note.

On Monday, Scott had ridden out with a work crew to put up a much-needed new fence in the north pasture.  He was due back that night, and to tell the truth, Murdoch looked forward to his oldest son’s return. 

For the first time, he’d been left alone with Johnny without Scott acting as a buffer.  Unfortunately, neither father nor son felt comfortable in each other’s company.

After breakfast that morning, Johnny rode out to help round up the herd that was being moved to the new pasture.

“Murdoch.” Teresa stood in the middle of the Great room, dressed in pants and riding boots.

“Going somewhere?”

“With you… I hope,” Teresa smiled.  “Can I go out with you today? You know I’ve been helping Maria get the house ready for Mr. Barker’s visit.  I want some fresh air. Please…”

“Sweetheart…” Murdoch paused at the look on the young girl’s face. 

“Maria’s planned a special dinner to welcome Scott home tonight and says she doesn’t need my help.  So…can I?”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea.  I’ll be ready in a few minutes.  Why don’t you go out and have one of the hands saddle our horses.”

Without giving her guardian a chance to change his mind, Teresa squealed as she ran out the front door.

Ten minutes later, an excited Teresa rode under the arch with Murdoch, both laughing and enjoying the crisp morning air. 

---

At the same time, four men were approaching Lancer’s southern border.  After leaving Porterville two days ahead of schedule, they were making good time.

Lancer wasn’t anywhere near the route to Sacramento, but Joe Barker had his reasons for going out of their way.    He knew this was his last job as Marshal.  The townspeople had made it plain that they wanted someone younger.   He glanced over his shoulder at his deputy, Jim Thompkins.  Undoubtedly, the man would be his replacement, and Thompkins knew it, too. 

He took his first real job in 1840 as a deputy sheriff in San Antonio.  In 1845, at the age of twenty-five, he was Sheriff of Corpus Cristi and had made a name for himself.

He remembered the trip to Reynosa, Mexico, in 1850, when he was looking for a fugitive. There, he met a man his own age who was searching for his wife and infant son.

One night in a Mexican cantina, over a bottle of rye, Joe learned all there was to know about Murdoch Lancer.  The story spilled out, with Murdoch holding nothing back.  He told of losing his first wife and how his baby boy, Scott, had been stolen by the boy’s grandfather.  Then, about meeting Maria in Matamoras and the joy he’d felt at the birth of his dark-haired, blue-eyed son.   The joy turned to sorrow when one night a few months earlier, Maria left, taking his joy, his Johnny, with her.  Mostly, Murdoch talked about the ranch he was building for his boys.  There was no doubt in Murdoch Lancer’s mind he’d one day have them both back under his roof.

Yes, Joe Barker had been there for the tall Scot during a rough stretch in his life, and they’d struck up a friendship that lasted twenty years. 

When he was offered the job of town Marshal in Abilene in 1850, Joe knew exactly who to ask to be his deputy. Those years in Abilene were Joe’s glory years.    His reputation eventually resulted in him being hired as a lawman in Kansas, Texas, and the New Mexico and Arizona Territories.  Along the way, he’d dealt with the worst outlaws, bandits, and pistoleros the West had to offer.

Six years earlier, he’d taken the job as Town Marshal in Porterville, California.  Porterville wasn’t much of a town, but it was his town.  As he got older and time passed, the glory faded as quickly as the shine on his star.    On top of that, he knew time hadn’t been kind to him.  His receding hairline and protruding belly were a testament to the easy living Porterville had become.

The good people of Porterville were happy enough to have him when the town was wild.  He’d come in and tamed it, but now they’d used him, and they were throwing him away.   They’d also made it clear they expected the advances he’d taken on his salary to be repaid.  How he was supposed to do that, he didn’t know, but he was hoping things worked out with his old friend Murdoch Lancer.

Now, at fifty, he had nothing left, while Murdoch Lancer had everything and was willing to share it.

---

It had been a long ride that morning, and they were all dusty and dry-mouthed. By Joe’s calculations, they were getting close to the Lancer hacienda. He was looking forward to getting out of the saddle and resting, but more importantly, he wanted—no, needed—to talk to Murdoch.

“How far is the Lancer place anyway?” Thompkins called out.

Joe didn’t look back when he answered in a gruff voice, “Just over the rise.”

Twenty-five-year-old Al Evans looked ahead and then at the deputies flanking him.  “Hey, Barker, how about a drink?”  When Barker didn’t respond, Evans turned to the deputies.  “I’m thirsty.”

Joe reined his horse up and turned to Thompkins.  “Give him a drink.”

Thompkins shook his head.  “He’s had his ration.”

“He’s got more to sweat about than we do…give him some water.”

Thompkins grudgingly lifted his canteen and unscrewed the top, handing it to Evans.  Satisfied that his orders had been carried out, Joe rode ahead, leaving the others behind.  When he crested the hill, he reined to a stop and took in the vista below.  Lancer.  Murdoch hadn’t lied.  It was one of the most beautiful spots he’d ever seen.

Joe slowly nodded. From his shirt pocket, he took out a well-worn letter and looked at it—the letter he’d received from Murdoch almost a year ago, his ticket to a new life.

Hearing the sound of horses coming from behind him, he quickly put the letter away and straightened in the saddle.

Deputy Bill Gibbs was the first to speak.  “Your friend’s done all right for himself.”

Thompkins snorted, “You don’t really think Murdoch Lancer’d split all this with you…?”

Joe’s brows furrowed.

Thompkins grinned, “The letter dropped out of your pocket while you were sleeping.”

“You’re lying,” Joe growled.

“What’s so private, anyway?” Thompkins grinned and quoted the letter verbatim.  “Anytime you want to give up being a town Marshal, just remember I’m holding a share of this ranch for you….”

Gibbs didn’t hide the sarcasm in his voice, “I guess he must need you, Joe.”

Barker pulled himself up and puffed out his chest.  “It’s a big spread, and Murdoch’s all alone.  I think I can help him.”

Thompkins laughed, “And he can sure help you.  In fact, you might say he’s kinda your last chance.  I’d have come fifty miles out of the way, my….”

The deputies were so busy with Barker that they weren’t paying attention to their prisoner.

Evans suddenly kicked his horse and raced down the hill.

Both Thompkins and Gibbs drew their guns, but Joe slapped down Thompkins’ arm.  “Alive!”

Thompkins sneered, “Where were you when I brought him in before?” 

As Thompkins raised his rifle again, Joe growled, “You ain’t Marshal yet!  Take him alive!”  

---

Johnny was working the herd in the south pasture when he saw two riders coming towards him.

Lifting his hat, he waved, “Murdoch!  Teresa!”

With a smile, Teresa waved back.  “Johnny!”

Reining to a stop, he waited for them to reach him.  “What brings you out here?”

“Murdoch was coming to check on the herd, and I wanted to get out of the house.” 

“Be careful,” he laughed.  “We’ll put you to work.”

“Funny.”  She came close to sticking her tongue out at him.  “I could work the cattle if I wanted to.”

“Sure you could,” Johnny laughed.   “I’ll tell you what.  Calving season is almost over, and we’ll be rounding up the newborns for branding within the next couple of weeks.  If you really want to work—”

“No, that’s alright.” She held up a hand.  “I’ll let you take care of the cattle, and I’ll take care of the house.”

The sound of a calf bawling drew their attention to a newborn calf caught in the underbrush. 

“Oh, the poor thing.” Teresa dismounted and started pulling on the baby.  When she couldn’t get the calf free, she looked at Johnny.

“Help me.”

“No, every hand has to pull his own weight.”

She looked at Murdoch and begged, “Murdoch, make him help me.”

Murdoch motioned Johnny towards Teresa.  “Help her.”

Murdoch saw the smile on his son’s face when he jumped from his horse and headed towards Teresa and the calf.

Just as the calf broke free, the sound of running horses drew their attention.  Four riders were coming towards them at a full gallop.

It took Murdoch some time to realize what was happening, but apparently, Johnny quickly figured it out.  He started running towards the oncoming rider.

“What’s he doing?” Teresa asked, watching Johnny sprint towards the charging horse.

“I don’t….”  Murdoch’s breath caught. Not for the first time, he thought, ‘What is that boy thinking?’

 It was then Murdoch saw that the lead rider, his shackles gleaming in the sun, was looking over his shoulder, judging how close the other three were.  The escaping man hadn’t seen Johnny until he was right on him.

 Johnny reached up, pulled the man out of the saddle, threw him to the ground, and landed on top of him.

---

The three lawmen chased after Evans down the hill and onto level ground.  

They were getting closer when Joe noticed someone wearing a red shirt running on foot toward the escaping prisoner.  To his amazement, the lone man reached up and caught Evans by the arm, pulling him to the ground.

By the time Joe arrived, Evans was pinned to the ground by a dark-haired young man.   He could tell they were talking but couldn’t make out what was said. 

When Joe approached, the young man pushed himself up and dusted his clothes off.   At the same time, the deputies dismounted and moved to take Evans back into custody.

Joe walked over to the smiling Johnny, “You handled that just fine, young man.  Bet you’re the best bulldogger on the place.”

Johnny flashed the lawman a smile, having already figured out who he was, but before he could say anything, he heard his father’s voice.

 “Joe… Joe Barker!”

“Murdoch!” Joe laughed and hurried forward.  “Lancer, you old son of a gun.  Boy, I’m glad to see you.  How long has it been?”

“A long time.”

Laughing, they patted each other on the back.

“Twenty years,” Joe announced.

Murdoch laughed, “Twenty years, and I feel every one of them.”

“Twenty long big years.  You don’t look it.  You look younger than you did then.  I mean it.  You’ve fleshed out some.  You know you used to be kind of skinny.”

Joe turned to Johnny.   “Hey, I want you to know you’ve got a real good top hand in this boy here.”

“Hand?  This is my son, Johnny,” Murdoch announced with pride.  “Johnny, meet Joe Barker.”

“Joe,” Johnny smiled.

“Hi.”

Johnny hadn’t missed the look of surprise on Barker’s face nor the hesitation before his reply.

Murdoch drew Teresa close to his side.  “And this is my ward, Teresa.”

Joe removed his hat and looked at Teresa.  “Well, I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Teresa.  I really am, but…”   Joe quickly turned his attention back to Johnny.  “Did you say your son?”

“Maria’s boy.  He came back.  It’s been a long time, but…. And you weren’t far from wrong.  He is a good hand.”

 “Maria’s boy.  Now, what do you know?” Joe stared at Johnny. He knew that face from somewhere; he just didn’t know where. Finally, he said, “Hey, I’m real glad to meet you, Johnny.” He reached out his hand. “Come here. I’m real glad.”

Johnny stepped forward and took the offered hand.

Joe needed to know more, but that could wait.  Smiling, he asked, “Did your daddy ever tell you any stories about me and him?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Did he ever tell you about the time he was my deputy in Abilene?  One night, him and me….” Joe looked at Teresa, blushed slightly, and stopped.  “Well, that’s another story, really.  You know, in Abilene, they used to have a special section in the cemetery reserved just for the burying of deputies?”

Johnny was still smiling.  “No, no, I didn’t know that. I can’t imagine Murdoch wearing a badge, but well, you know he does everything else pretty well.”

“Yes, he does.”

From behind them, Evans called out, “Johnny…? I’m Al Evans. You’ve got to remember. Sonora. Pasco.”

“Do you know him?” Murdoch asked in a worried tone, knowing that if his son did know Evans, it was as Madrid. 

“No.  No,” Johnny shook his head and turned away.  “No.”   

“Johnny, don’t turn your back on me.  They’re gonna hang me.  Johnny, I didn’t do anything.  I’m innocent.” Evans panicked.  “Hey, look at me.  You’ve got to remember.”

Turning back to look at Evans, Johnny shook his head.  “Look, I’m sorry.”

Joe studied Johnny’s profile.  The image of a dark-haired, blue-eyed boy standing in a dusty, wind-blown street in  San Antonio, wearing the same shirt and pants, bracing a gunhawk twice his age, flashed in front of his eyes.  Could it be?  The longer he looked, the surer he was, but this wasn’t the time or the place to discuss it. 

Turning to Thompkins, Joe ordered, “Get him on his horse.”

Murdoch took Joe’s shoulder as Thompkins and Gibbs pushed Evans back into the saddle.  “Joe, let me show you the old guardhouse.”   

As they rode with Murdoch and Teresa, Joe looked back to see Johnny mounting a palomino.  For a brief moment, their eyes met.  Joe had a bad feeling about Johnny Lancer, or should he say Madrid.

“Is Johnny coming?”

Murdoch glanced back.  “Johnny will be along later.  He still has some strays to round up.”

---

“Carlos, enough.  Hold it steady.”

“Come on, Carlos,” Frank laughed and shook his head.  “Let’s get this post in so you can get to town tonight and see all those pretty senoritas you’ve been telling us about.”

The vaquero laughed, his shoulders shaking, along with the fence post he was holding.   “Just hit the post, Senor Scott, not my hand.”

“I have no intention of hitting your hand.  Now, hold it still.”

The six-man crew joined in the laughter.  It was Friday, and the job was almost done.  They were excited about getting back to the ranch and then heading for town. 

Scott raised the sledge hammer and an eyebrow at Carlos, then lowered the sledge hammer with a resounding thud, sending the post into the ground.  Over and over, he slammed the hammer down until the wooden post was firmly set.  Nodding his satisfaction, Scott looked around.

The work wagon rumbled to a stop next to the fence line.  Two men grabbed a roll of barbed wire and laid it on the ground between the newly set posts.  Within minutes, the bottom three strands of wire were nailed into place, and the top strand was stretched and wrapped around the corner post. 

“Jefe?” Pedro turned and held out the small hammer.

Scott cocked his head and then looked around at the men who he’d worked with for the past week.  Ranch hands, tired and dirty, wiped the sweat from their faces and waited expectantly.  They were giving him the honor of placing the last nail into the last strand of wire on the last fence post of the job. 

Taking the hammer, Scott quickly sank the nail into place.  When he was done, he stepped back, heaved a sigh, and tossed the hammer into a utility bucket.  The job was finally done.  They had spent a week camping out on the range, working from sun up to sun down, enclosing an essential portion of pasture. 

Scott looked at the men, smiling back at him.  “I don’t know about you, but it’s been a long week, and I’m ready to head home.  Let’s get everything loaded.  It’s payday, and I, for one, am looking forward to town tonight.”

The men didn’t need to be told twice.  They had the wire, fence posts, and tools in the wagon in record time.  As the men headed home, Scott stayed behind, taking a few moments to look at the completed job. 

It hadn’t been long since the raids on Lancer ended, and there was still a lot of work to be done, mainly repairing fences.  Everyone had been working overtime, including Murdoch Lancer’s long-lost sons.  It was one of the reasons Scott had been put in charge of the crew working this section of fence.

It was amazing how a straight line of perfectly spaced fence posts, placed with his own hands and muscles, filled him with a sense of contentment. The feeling of satisfaction he experienced while looking at it was something he had never felt before, not even while he was in Boston.

His eyes followed the fence as it stretched south over the rise and a good ten miles to the sand gully Johnny had fenced in three weeks earlier.

Thinking about the gully sent a shiver up Scott’s spine.  The previous weeks hadn’t been exactly easy for the ranch or the Lancers.  They’d dealt with Gant Foley only two weeks earlier, and before him …Well, the memories were still fresh.  What had Murdoch said…it’s past and gone.  What counts is the here and now.   Scott couldn’t agree more and shook himself, pushing aside the recollections of Wes, the Strykers, and the events of those few fateful days.

Scott knew Murdoch would be happy with the progress.  Now that the range west of the hacienda was fenced and cross-fenced, they could move the cattle Johnny had been rounding up.  In addition to the current herd, Murdoch planned a buying trip for new cattle to improve the bloodlines.  He’d said something about riding to Live Oak next week and catching a stage to the auction north of there. 

Tightening his cinch, Scott found himself anxious to go home.  The thought of his father brought a warm feeling bubbling up around his heart.  It still amazed him that in just a few short months, he’d settled into a life that brought him happiness he had never felt before.  Boston seemed like a distant memory, and it surprised him that he now considered Lancer home. 

This week was the first time he’d been away from his new family since arriving at the ranch in April, and he missed them all. 

Mounting, Scott kicked his horse into a trot to catch up with the work crew.

---

Less than an hour from the house, Frank pointed ahead.  “Scott.”

Stopping, Scott lifted the brim of his hat and squinted.  The unmistakable sight of his brother riding towards them made him smile.

Johnny rode past the men in the work wagon and lifted a hand in greeting.  “Howdy, boys.” 

A chorus of “Hey there, Johnny” rose up from the men as the wagon continued on its way.

By the time Johnny reached Scott, both men were grinning.

“Brother.” Scott let the word roll off his tongue, and hearing it felt good.

“Boston,” Johnny responded.

“What brings you out here?  Miss me?”

Johnny’s brow furrowed in thought.  “You’ve been gone somewhere?”

“Very funny.” Scott took off his hat and swatted at his brother.

Laughing, Johnny dodged the blow.  “You get the job done?”

“We did.” Scott looked Johnny over from head to boot tip to ensure he wasn’t injured.  “You didn’t answer me.  What brings you out here?”

“Just thought I’d meet up with you, and we could ride back together.”  Johnny dipped his head.  When he raised it, he was smiling.  “Alright, you’ve been missed.  Wanted to make sure you were going to make it back in time for supper.”

Scott gave his horse a slight kick to get him moving again.  Johnny fell in beside him.  “I am looking forward to ‘dinner’ tonight, but more importantly, I’m looking forward to a bath and clean clothes.”

Johnny sniffed the air.  “Yeah, I’d say you needed that bath.”

Both men laughed.

“Murdoch wanted to make sure you were coming in tonight.”

“Was he one of those who missed me?”

“Yeah, I’d say so.” Johnny pulled his hat down over his eyes, a move Scott didn’t miss.  “You know him and me don’t spend a lot of time talking… and I think he misses having you around.”

Scott glanced at his brother.  Scott knew Johnny’s lack of education often kept him out of the in-depth conversations he shared with their father.  For him, those hours after dinner, talking about books they’d both read and plays they’d seen, had helped them bond.  He’d hoped his absence would have brought their father and Johnny closer together.  Apparently, that hadn’t been the case.

“How did you two get along without me?”

Johnny laughed. “Well, we didn’t shoot each other.”

“That’s a relief.  Anything else happen while I was away?”

“We got the cattle rounded up, is about all.”

“All of them?”

“Almost,” Johnny paused.  “Oh, that friend of Murdoch’s, Joe Barker, showed up earlier today.”

“That’s good.  I know Murdoch was looking forward to his visit.”

“Yeah, I expect he’ll want us at supper tonight.”

Scott sighed.  “I told the boys I’d ride into town with them for a drink tonight.  I suppose we can go tomorrow night.”

“Nope.  Not tomorrow night either.”

“Why?”

“That social Teresa has planned.”

“I forgot about that.  Well, next weekend then.”

“Yeah, but I’d rather go to town than go to that dance.”

“I suppose Murdoch will be introducing Barker, as well as the two of us, to the neighbors.”  Scott saw a frown on Johnny’s face.  “You’ve met him.  What’s he like?”

“Like any other lawman.  I only got to talk to him for a minute, but…”

“But?”

“He didn’t seem real happy to see me here.  He was surprised when Murdoch told him I’d come back.”

“I’m sure he’ll be just as surprised when he meets me.  Is there something else?”

“Yeah,…” Johnny paused and shifted uncomfortably in his saddle.

“Go on.”

“Well, that prisoner Barker’s taking to Sacramento said he knew me.”

“Knew you?” Scott looked puzzled.  Then the answer came to him.  “You mean he knows who you used to be?”

Johnny snorted.  “You and the old man are just alike.  Hell, Scott, who I used to be and who I am now are the same.  I ain’t been out of the game that long.”

“Excuse me,” Scott cleared his throat.  “Let me rephrase.  This prisoner knows you as Madrid?”

“That’s right.”

“Do you remember him?”

“No.   He looks kinda familiar, but I can’t place him.  I traveled to a lot of places and met a lot of men.”

“So, this man… what’s his name?”

“Says it’s Evans.  Al Evans.”

“So, Al Evans didn’t make an impression on you enough to remember him.  What’s the problem?”

“He asked for my help.  Evans said they were taking him to Sacramento to hang.  Said he didn’t do it.”

Scott nodded. “It’s understandable he’d say he was innocent. Do you know what he is accused of?”

“No.”

“But you want to help him?”

“Yes… No…hell, I don’t know.”

“Do you really want to become involved in this man’s problems?  You seem to have enough of your own.”

Johnny laughed.  “I guess you’re right.  I do seem to find trouble under every rock.”

“You know the answer then, don’t you, brother?”

Johnny gave Scott a faint smile.  “What’s the answer?”

“Stop kicking over rocks.”

---

The work wagon rumbled under the arch with Scott and Johnny trailing behind.  When it stopped in the yard, two vaqueros were there to take the horses.

Teresa ran out of the front door, throwing her arms around Scott.  “You’re home.”

Scott laughed, “Yes, I am.”  He hugged her back.  “It’s good to see you too.” 

“What, no hug for me?” Johnny strolled past them, heading for the door.

“Oh, you… You haven’t been gone for a whole week.  Scott has.” 

“Where’s Murdoch?” Scott looked over her head toward the house.

“He’s still at the guardhouse with his friend.”

Teresa stepped back and looked up at Scott, sniffing as she did.  “You had better get a bath before anything else.”

“No, let me tell Murdoch we’re back.  The men need to be paid.”

Johnny stopped.  “I’m taking a bath while you do that.”

Scott nodded.  “Alright, but don’t use up all the hot water.”

Teresa turned back to the house and called over her shoulder, “Both of you be on time for dinner tonight.  Mr. Barker is joining us, and I want you both to be on your best behavior.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the brothers answered in unison.

Scott looked towards the old guardhouse, noting Murdoch’s horse tied outside.  Walking across the yard, he brushed as much dust off his jacket as possible.  Opening the wooden door to the building, he waited a moment, getting his first look at the man his father thought so much of.

---

Murdoch talked non-stop on the ride to the main compound, telling Joe about the ranch and how glad he was to see him, and Joe took it all in. 

As they approached the hacienda, Joe couldn’t help himself.  His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped.  The place was far more than he’d hoped for. 

 Approaching a small adobe building, he heard Murdoch say, “Here it is.”

They dismounted in front of the building.  Murdoch led the way through the heavy wooden door.  Inside, Joe found the main guardroom separated from a smaller room by a heavy door with a barred window.   Joe walked across the room and examined the bolt on the cell door.   Nodding, he turned to Murdoch.  “Who built it?”

“The Spaniards.   It’s still the only one in the county.”

“It’ll do just fine.”  Joe turned to see his men walking in with Evans.  “Thompkins, Gibbs, get him in there.” Joe motioned to the smaller room.  Once Evan was locked up, he said, “Then go out there and get the horses unpacked.  We might stay over.”

Murdoch waited until the deputies were heading back outside before approaching Joe.  “How long can you stay, Joe?”

“Overnight…any way, Murd.”

Joe smiled when Murdoch replied, “The longer, the better.  I have a lot to show you.” 

Now that they were alone, Joe wanted to get right to the letter he’d received.   Strolling over to the single table in the room, he sat on the edge and glanced back at Murdoch. 

“It’s kinda funny, you know.” Joe gestured to his Marshal’s badge.  “We were together when I first pinned this thing on, and now we’re together when I’m thinking about taking it off.”

Joe could see the surprise on Murdoch’s face.  “Taking it off?  Why?”

“Lots of reasons.  Oh, they want me to stay on…,” the lie rolled off his lips with only a slight hesitation, “even offered a nice raise, but…it’s been twenty-five years… it’s about time to give some of the younger fellows a chance.” 

“What could they do that you couldn’t do ten times better?”

Joe smiled, “Nothing, really, but…well…soon as I get Evans to Sacramento, I’ll call it quits.”

“You’ve had a good career, Joe.  They’ll be losing a good man…the best.  Have you got any definite plans for the future?”

“Well, I was hoping you and me might have a chance to talk about that, Murdo.”

Before Joe could finish the sentence, the door to the guardhouse opened, and a tall, slim blonde entered. 

“Oh, excuse me.”  Scott walked over to Murdoch.  “Well, we finished all the way to the gully and to the north range.  The men are waiting.”  He looked at the Marshal and then back to his father, waiting to be introduced.  When Murdoch didn’t respond, he repeated, “Well, the men are waiting.”

Murdoch nodded.  “Oh, yes, yes.  It’s payday.”  He put an arm around Scott’s shoulder.  “Joe, I have another surprise for you.  This is my other son, Scott,” Murdoch announced with pride and a little excitement.  He was evidently pleased to introduce his oldest son to an old friend.   “Joe Barker.”

Scott reached out his right hand.  “Mr. Barker.”   He noticed Barker’s hesitation and expression. After what Johnny said, he was prepared for it.

Unsure he’d heard right, Joe cautiously asked, “Scott.  From Boston?”

“That’s right, sir.  My father’s told me a lot about you,” Scott smiled.  “Pretty good, too, I might add.”

“It’s nice to know you too, Scott.  You come out to pay your daddy a visit?”

“Oh, no, I’m staying,” Scott answered and saw Joe’s face pale.

“Oh, that’ll be real nice for you, Murdo.”  Swallowing hard, he said, “When I got that letter from you a while back, you were all alone.  Well, now you seem to have acquired quite a family.”

Murdoch placed a hand on Scott’s shoulder. “Well, when I wrote that letter a year ago, Joe, we were still a family then.  The only trouble was we weren’t together.” 

Murdoch must have felt the unease in his friend because he hurriedly said, “Well, we’d better pay off those hands.” Turning, he called over his shoulder, “Supper tonight, Joe, at the house.  Six o’clock.”

“Right, right,” Joe answered, watching Murdoch and Scott go.

Scott raised his hand and waved.  “Mr. Barker.”

“Scotty,” Barker replied as the door closed.   

Once outside, Scott paused, wondering why Barker had called him Scotty.

Murdoch stopped and looked back at his son.  “Something wrong?”

Scott shrugged.  “Nothing, really.  I was wondering why Mr. Barker called me Scotty.  The only person who’s ever called me that is grandfather.”

Murdoch straightened and shook his head.  “I’m not sure.  I’m sure he meant nothing by it.  Come on.  Let’s get the men paid, and then we can have a drink before dinner.”

Scott nodded.  “I need a bath before dinner.”

“Have you seen Johnny?”

“He met me on the way in.  He’s already in the bathhouse.”

“Good…good.  I want you both to spend some time with Joe.”

“He seems nice.  He did look surprised when I said I was staying.”

“Well, I wrote him a year ago, and at the time, I was alone.  A lot has changed.”

Scott smiled and started towards the house.  “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get a change of clothes and see if Johnny is finished.”

“Scott.”

Scott turned to look at Murdoch.

“It’s good to have you home, son.”

“It’s good to be home.  I must admit I missed my bed.”

Murdoch smiled.  “Just your bed?”

“My bed and Johnny.”

“Oh, well then.  I’m glad you’ve included your brother.  I believe he missed you also.  In fact, your absence has been noted by everyone.”

Scott smiled at the thought of his father’s implied comment.  “So I’ve heard.”

Before turning towards the house again, he glanced back at the closed door of the guardhouse.  There was something …strange about Joe Barker’s reaction to the news that he was staying at Lancer.  Scott shook off the feeling and followed his father through the front door.

---

After Murdoch and Scott left, Joe heaved a heavy sigh and took a few minutes to regroup.  He hadn’t expected to find two sons where only a few months earlier there were none.  He was at a loss for words.  Where did this leave him?

Joe turned back to the table, leaning on it to steady himself.  He reached into his shirt pocket and took out the creased and folded letter.  He started to reread it, thinking he’d misread it the other thousand times, when he heard laughter.

“You’ve gotta be kidding, Barker!” Evans continued to laugh. “He’s never gonna let you in.  I think you’ve missed the train…”

Joe moved across to the cell, ready to put his fist through the small window into Evan’s face. 

“He’s got everything.  What have you got? Nothing.  Why should he take you in?”

“Just what are you talking about?”

“I’ve heard things.  I know you got fired, and I know why.  So, this trip to Sacramento is a dead-end for both of us.  You know what, Barker?  We ought to do business together.”

Joe had an idea of what Evans was going to say.  The money from the stage hold-up had never been recovered, and the man was desperate…they were both desperate.

“What kind of business?” 

“What kind of business do you want?  I’ll buy it for you…”

Joe started to turn away.  “Forget it.”

“I heard a few other things, too! They say you got so many advances on that chicken feed salary of yours that you owe the town money.”

“That’s my problem.”

“It doesn’t have to be.  Fix it so I don’t have to go to Sacramento, and it’ll be worth five thousand dollars to you.  I got it stashed outside Yuma.  You can come with me. We’ll get it together.”

Joe shook his head.  “Evans, I try to treat you like a human being, so you figure I’m either softheaded or crooked.”

“No, Barker.  Just desperate.”

Joe started for the door in earnest.

“Barker….  Alright, so I’m human.” Evan held up his still-cuffed hands.  “These shackles are cutting through to the bone.” 

Joe gave it a moment’s thought before opening the door to the guardroom.  He checked the cuffs.  When he saw Evans’s red and chaffed wrists, Joe nodded toward the bench.  “Sit down.”

Evans sat and held up his hands.  “Five thousand’s a lot of money.  You got that kind of money you pay off all your debts, buy your own place.  You don’t have to be anybody’s charity case.”

Joe was losing patience.  He’d heard enough.  “Shut up, Evans.

The moment the shackles were off, Evans swung both arms together, knocking the Marshal back against the wall.  Then he headed for the door with Joe right behind him.  Joe caught him only to have Evans punch him in his ribs and send him crashing into the wall.

At that moment, the outer door opened, and Thompkins and Gibbs rushed in.  The ensuing fight resulted in Evans being slammed into the wall and knocking him to the floor.  The two deputies started toward Evans when Joe recovered and placed himself between his men and Evans.

“Just toss him in there.”

Gibbs grabbed the pair of handcuffs lying on the floor and started to put them back on Evans.  Joe stopped him.

“It was my fault.  I shouldn’t have left the door open.”

“The man’s dangerous,” Gibbs pointed towards the prisoner.

Joe pointed towards the door.  “Just put him in.”

Thompkins shook his head.  “Barker, you’re an old fool.  That’s why you got fired…”

Joe had had enough.  “I’ve taken too much from you already.  Thompkins…”

Thompkins laughed, “You’d better get used to eating dirt, Barker.  When they take that star off, it’s gonna be your steady diet.”

Thompkins and Gibbs shoved Evans into the cell and closed the door.  Turning, they looked at Barker. 

“So, we’re staying over.  How long?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Where are we bedding down?”

Joe gave Thompkins a slight smile.  “I’m staying in the main house.  You and Gibbs can sleep in the bunkhouse and take turns watching Evans.”

Thompkins glowered at Barker. “Enjoy it while you can, old man. Lancer’s not going to share anything with you.”

Joe turned and left.  Walking toward the big white house, he tried to forget everything Evans and Thompkins said.  Regardless of Murdoch’s son’s return, Joe Barker was sure his old friend would live up to the words he’d written a year earlier… “ …just remember I’m holding a share of this ranch for you…”

---

Dinner that night was lively, with Murdoch and Barker laughing and swapping stories.  The talk around the table was light and cheerful until Teresa suggested that Joe stay over an extra night, attend the social, and meet some of their friends.

Scott looked at his brother and saw storm clouds forming.  It was then that Scott wondered if having Barker there was a good thing.  He still couldn’t shake the feeling he’d gotten earlier in the guardhouse.

“Thank you,” Joe replied.  “I’d really like to, but I think the sooner I get Evans delivered, the better.”

“What’s Evans accused of?”  The question was the first time that night Johnny had spoken.

“Murder.  He held up a stage and killed the driver.”  Joe looked at Johnny.  “You’re still puzzling about where you might know him from?”

“He did mention Sonora, Pasco.”

“Oh, forget him, Johnny.” Joe continued cutting his meat and eating.  “There’s nothing you can do to help him anyway.”

Johnny stopped eating and dropped his fork.  Everyone at the table could see he was upset.  “It’s a little hard to forget a man that’s gonna hang.  Right?  And begs for your help.” He threw down his napkin and stood.  “If you don’t mind.” 

Teresa and Scott stole quick glances at each other as Johnny walked out, his spurs ringing. 

After Johnny left the table, Murdoch glanced toward the door and raised a glass.  Scott wasn’t sure what that meant, but he was concerned.  His appetite abandoned him as fast as Johnny’s exit.

Scott started to push back from the table when he felt a hand on his arm. 

“Let him go, Scott,” Murdoch said.  “He’ll be alright.”

“I’ll be right back.”  Scott stood and followed Johnny to the front door.  He arrived in time to see his brother strapping on his gun belt.

“Johnny…”

“Go on back, Scott.  You make nice with Murdoch’s friend.”

“Where are you going?”

Johnny adjusted his rig and turned to the door.  “Out to the guardhouse.”

“So, you remember him?”

“Yeah, I do.  I want to talk to him.”

Scott took Johnny’s arm.  “Come back in when you’re done.”

“Don’t worry, brother.  I’ll be back.” Johnny opened the door and stepped into the night.

Scott watched the door close and started back to the dining room.  He arrived in time to catch the end of a conversation between Teresa and Barker.     

“…I think staying another night would be a good idea.”

“That’s wonderful.  I know our neighbors will enjoy meeting you.”

Barker smiled and then looked at Scott as he sat down.  “So, Scott, how long have you been here?”

“Only three months.”

“It’s a big change from Boston.  Ranching is a lot of work.”

Scott wasn’t sure how to take the comment.  “It is a change and a welcome one.” He smiled at Murdoch.  “And yes, there is a lot of work, but I’m learning the business with Murdoch and Johnny’s help.”

There was a brief questioning look in Barker’s eyes.  “Johnny a big help, is he?”

“Yes.  He’s taught me a lot, and I believe he’s also learned a few things from me.”

“Scott,” Teresa was bubbling with excitement, “Mr. Barker has agreed to stay another night and attend the dance.”

“That’s wonderful.  I know Murdoch will enjoy spending more time with you, Mr. Barker.”

“The name’s Joe, Scott.”

Scott smiled and gave a nod.  “Joe.”

Dinner finished quickly after that, and Scott saw the opportunity to excuse himself.  “I think I’ll turn in early tonight.  It’s been a long week, and I’m looking forward to a soft bed.”

Teresa stole away to the kitchen to wash the dishes, leaving Murdoch and Joe to themselves.  As Scott took the stairs, he heard Murdoch and Joe move to the Great Room.  He stopped at the top of the stairs to watch and listen.

“How about a drink?” Murdoch asked.

 “Sounds good.”

Murdoch walked to the drink cart and poured two glasses of Scotch.   Turning, he handed one to Joe.  Then, Murdoch sat in his favorite wingback chair, and Joe settled on the sofa. 

Joe was the first to speak.  “Murdo, I’m sorry about what happened at dinner.  I didn’t mean to upset the boy.”

Murdoch shook his head.  “No, Joe.  It’s not your fault.  I don’t know what’s gotten into Johnny.”

“Murdo, I didn’t want to mention it, but…”

“But?”  

“Murdo, it surprised me when you said he was your son,” Joe paused.  “I recognized him the moment I saw him.”

Murdoch looked unsurprised.  “You know who he was?”

“Was?” Joe shook his head.  “Don’t you mean who he is?” 

“That’s not who he is anymore, Joe.  When Johnny came home, he gave up that life.”

Joe laughed and shook his head.

“You don’t believe me?”

“I’m sorry, Murdo, but I can’t believe a man with his reputation can just walk away. It’s not like the name Johnny Madrid isn’t known all over the Southwest. I’ve even seen him in action. I never would have thought he was the little boy you’ve been looking for all these years. I bet it was a shock when you found out what he’d become.” 

Murdoch sighed.  “I have to admit when I received the Pinkerton report telling me they’d found Johnny and who he was, I was…”

“Disappointed?” Joe suggested.

“I suppose, but mostly, I was…surprised and saddened.  I’d been searching for Johnny for twenty years, and suddenly, the Pinkertons located him.  He was hiding in plain sight, so to speak.  Once they knew what name Johnny was using, it wasn’t hard to track his movements.  I wanted to go to Mexico myself, but we had problems with land pirates.  Then I was wounded, and Paul O’Brien was killed.  I asked the Pinkertons to find him and ask him to come to Lancer.” 

Murdoch took a swallow of his drink. 

Scott didn’t wait to listen longer. Moving down the hall to his room, the voices from the Great Room faded. He didn’t want to hear what his father had to say about him, but what did interest him was that Joe Barker knew who Johnny was.   

Back in the Great Room, Murdoch leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath. 

“Murdo, if you don’t want to talk about it….”

“No, Joe, that’s alright,” Murdoch smiled.  “I’d like to talk about it,” 

Joe leaned back and waited. 

 “Scott was easy.  I knew where he was.  By the time I sent for Johnny, he’d disappeared in Mexico.  The Pinkertons finally found him in a Mexican prison.  He’d become involved in some kind of revolution down there, and the Rurales were ready to execute him.  The final report I received said the agent bribed a firing squad to secure his freedom.”

Barker blew out a breath.  “That’s quite a story.   I’d heard rumors that Madrid was dead.  I guess that’s where it got started.  So, he came here straight from a Mexican prison?”

“Yes.”

“And decided to give up his gun…just like that?” Joe snapped his fingers.

“No, Joe.  Not just like that.  I offered him a new life here at Lancer with me and his brother.”  Murdoch finished his drink and headed for the drink cart for a refill.  “Another?”

“Sure.” Barker stood and joined Murdoch.  Holding out his glass, he waited until the glass was filled before speaking again.  “Murdoch, men like Johnny Madrid don’t just walk away from that life.  There’s only one way they leave it.”

“Not Johnny.  Not my son.  Joe, he’s here now, and I plan to keep him here.  People will forget about Madrid in time.  He…we need time together.  I lost a lifetime with my sons, twenty years with Johnny, and twenty-four with Scott.    We’re finally together.  You don’t know how much that means to me.  I’ll admit it hasn’t been easy, but we are finding our way.”  

“I’m happy for you, Murdo.  Really, I am.”  Barker smiled, “Alright, I’ll leave it.  I’m just worried about you.  Maybe Johnny has changed.  Maybe you did that by bringing him here.” 

“I hope so.  Joe, once you get to know Johnny, you’ll see he’s nothing like the stories you’ve heard about him.”

“Alright, Murdo.”  Joe sat his glass on the coffee table.  “I’d better go check on Evans and call it a night.”

“I’ll wait for you and then lock up.   Is your room alright?”

“Oh, yeah,” Joe laughed.  “My old bones aren’t used to camping out anymore.  It’s going to be nice sleeping in a bed tonight.” 

Murdoch watched his friend walk out the front door.  It was good seeing Joe after all those years. 

---

Johnny walked outside and stopped. He was mad—mad at Barker and mad at the old man.

He knew why Barker was rubbing him wrong. That look on the lawman’s face when Murdoch introduced him as his son.  Johnny had seen it enough over the years— that look of recognition he’d gotten more times than he could remember when facing a lawman. 

Barker’s expression had quickly changed to surprise with a hint of confusion before he covered it up with a smile. No, Joe Barker wasn’t happy to see Murdoch Lancer’s youngest son.

Then, there was Barker’s typical attitude towards his prisoner.   ‘Forget him.  There’s nothing you can do to help him anyway.’  

As for being mad at his father, hell, he didn’t know the why of it, but he was.  He still didn’t know Murdoch that well, and the fact that the old man was falling over himself trying to please Barker didn’t sit right with him.  

Looking around, Johnny could see the soft glow of light spilling out of the usually dark guardhouse windows. 

Making up his mind, Johnny strode across the yard.  Opening the solid wooden door, he stepped inside to find the deputies sitting at the room’s only table.  

“I’d like to see Evans.”

“You do know him?” Thompkins said.

When Thompkins hesitated, Johnny said, “Come on, open the door.”  Sauntering to the cell, he peered through the small barred window.  When Thompkins still didn’t move, Johnny tossed his Colt to the deputy. “Nothing’s gonna happen.” 

Reluctantly, Thompkins grabbed the edge of the door and pulled it open.

Johnny walked in and heard the door close and the key turn in the lock.

Evans was seated on the bunk, his face bruised and battered. Moving to the edge of the bed.  “You remember?”

Johnny smiled. “I remember, but it wasn’t Sonora or Pasco. It was Cordova, a range war.” 

“Yeah, that’s right.   We tried to sign up together.”

“Who beat you up?

“Barker.  Them”

“Why?”

Evans shrugged. “For what happened this morning when you stopped me.  As soon as they got me alone, they worked me over.  Johnny, you’ve gotta help me.  I didn’t hurt anybody.  I didn’t do anything. I’m innocent.  I don’t wanta die for something I didn’t do.”

Johnny was watching Evans’ face, and the man looked sincere.

“If you’re innocent, the jury’ll free you.”

“No.  I’m not gonna see any jury.  He’d kill me before we get to Sacramento.”

“You mean, Barker?  What’s he wanta kill you for?”

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

Now Evans had Johnny’s attention.  “Whata you mean ‘cut himself in?’”

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

“No one’s gonna kill you, Al.”

There was a spark of hope in his eyes.  “You gonna help me?”

Johnny thought for a moment, spinning the rowel of his spur.   “I got a couple of friends in Sacramento.  I don’t mind taking a ride.”

The excitement was evident in Evans’s voice, “Yeah, that might do it.”

Johnny stood and was ready to leave when he heard the outside door open and Barker’s voice.

---

As he walked out the front door of the hacienda, Joe was pleased with himself.  The conversation with Murdoch after dinner had gone well.  The two men had always been honest with each other, so when Joe told his friend he knew who Johnny really was, Murdoch took it well.

Joe wasn’t as convinced as Murdoch that Madrid was a thing of the past, but he hadn’t argued the point.

Opening the door to the guardhouse, Joe paused.  He knew something wasn’t right by the looks on his deputy’s faces.

“What’s wrong?”

“The Lancer kid is in there talking to Evans,” Thompkins answered with a snarl. 

Joe nodded and walked over to the cell door.  Opening it, he saw Evans seated on the bunk and Johnny standing near the door.  “So, he is the guy, Johnny?”

“He’s pretty badly beat up,” Johnny answered, avoiding the question.

Caught off guard by the comment, Joe rebutted, “He tried to escape.  Put up quite a fight.”

Johnny nodded and moved out the open cell door. 

Joe, not liking the boy’s attitude, slammed the cell door and locked it.

Stopping at the table, Johnny picked up his gun belt and strapped it on.  “I don’t want nothing more to happen to him.”

Joe’s brow furrowed.  “What’d he tell you, Johnny?”

“Nothing.  Nothing.  He didn’t tell me nothing.” Johnny holstered his gun and turned to leave.  “Just make sure he stays alive.”

Joe’s response of ‘Sure’ was said to Johnny’s back as he left the guard house.

The moment the outer door closed, Thompkins turned on Joe.  “That Lancer kid…I don’t like it, Barker.  We ought to pull out now, tonight.”

Joe shook his head and, with a raised hand, waved Thompkins off.  “No.  We need the rest.”

 “Barker, you’re wasting your time,” Thompkins snorted.  “Lancer ain’t gonna cut you in.  He was alone when he wrote you that letter.  Now, he’s got two boys to help him.  This is a working ranch, not the County Poor Farm—”

“Thompkins, shut up!”

“Course, maybe you want charity…”

Enough was enough.  Joe’s anger rose. “I want respect.  I’m still in charge.  We’re staying for that social tomorrow night and leave the next morning.”

“Sure, Barker.  Sure.”

“Now,” Joe straightened his shoulders. “I’m taking a walk and then going to bed.  You two can handle things here.” 

Joe walked out before either man could say a word.   He was almost to the house when he decided he needed to cool down first.  He hated Thompkins and was tired of the disrespect Thompkins showed, tired of his face, and tired of the smirk that was always there.  Well, he’d be rid of him soon enough. 

---

 Looking at the grandfather clock, Murdoch sighed.  Johnny hadn’t returned yet, and he wasn’t going to bed until he knew his son was all right.  No sooner than he decided to settle down and wait, the front door opened, and Murdoch heard the sound of Johnny’s spurs.

“You’re back.” Murdoch stood. “That’s good. I wanted to talk to you.” When he saw Johnny’s expression, his stomach flipped. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, well…we need to talk.  Where’s Scott?”

“Right here.”  They turned to see Scott coming down the main staircase.  “What’s wrong?”

Johnny strode across the room to the drink cart, poured a glass of tequila, downed it in one gulp, then poured another.

“That bad?” Scott joined him in a drink.

“Could be,” Johnny responded.

Teresa walked in from the kitchen carrying a tray with a pot of coffee and three cups.  She sat it on the coffee table and looked at the three men in the room.  “I think you need this more than whiskey or tequila.”

“Thank you, darling.”  Murdoch looked at his sons.  “As usual, I believe she’s right.”

“Do you want me to pour?” Teresa reached for the handle of the coffee pot.

“No, I’ll take care of it.” Murdoch kissed her on the forehead.    “Why don’t you go on to bed.  You’ve got a lot to do tomorrow.” 

“Alright, but I don’t want to hear any yelling.”

“You won’t.  Now go on.”

Murdoch poured two cups of coffee, handed one to Scott, and held the other out to Johnny.  Johnny glared at the cup and then at the glass in his hand.   Coffee splashed out of the cup when Murdoch pushed his hand forward.

“John.”

“Alright.”  Johnny sat the glass down and took the cup.  “What did you want to talk about?”

“I’d like to offer Joe a job.  That is if you two agree.”

Scott nodded.  “As far as I’m concerned, the answer is yes.  I think he’d be a big help.”

Murdoch poured a cup of coffee, then made himself comfortable on the sofa.   Watching Johnny pace in front of the fireplace, the coffee cup clutched in his hand, Murdoch calmly asked, “I take it you don’t agree.”

“You need to look at Evans.”

“What’s Evans got to do with it?”

“He’s been beat up…bad.”

“By who?”

“He claims it was Barker and the deputies for what happened this morning.”

“I can’t believe that.”

Johnny whirled on his father.  “A man changes in twenty years, Murdoch.”

“Men do, but I don’t believe Joe has.”

“Did you ever offer Barker a piece of this ranch?”

“Yes,” Surprised by the change of subject, Murdoch nonetheless responded without hesitation.

“Well, that’s what he wants, and he wants it now.  In fact, he needs it.” Johnny sat on the arm of one of the leather-clad chairs near the fireplace.  “He didn’t quit his job, he was fired.  Evans thinks Barker wants to kill him and stick around here for his piece of the pie.”

“Oh, Johnny, how could you take Evans’ word for anything?” Murdoch sat his cup on the coffee table and started to stand.

Scott was sitting quietly, watching Johnny’s reaction.

“You did offer him a piece—”

“Yes.  Yes.  I offered him a piece, but that was a long time ago.  That was before you boys came back.” Murdoch stood and walked to the fire.  Leaning against the mantel, he shook his head.  “He can’t… he must understand it’s all off now.”

“Look, I know it’s tough for you this time of year, but I’d like to go to Sacramento with them…just to make sure.”

Murdoch turned to look at Scott.  “Will you take care of your brother’s work for a couple of weeks?”

Scott nodded, “I think so.”

“Alright, Johnny, on one condition.  Really get acquainted with Joe.  Know him as I know him, and bring him back here.”

Johnny shot back.  “If he’ll come back for just a job.”

Finally, Scott broke the silence that had fallen in the room after Johnny’s comment.   “I’m going to bed.” He stood and placed his cup back on the tray on the coffee table.  “Johnny….”

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

Murdoch watched his sons walk toward the stairs.  “Goodnight, boys.”

Both younger men stopped and turned.  After the heated discussion, they knew the softly spoken words were a peace offering.   

“Goodnight, Sir.”  “Night, Murdoch.” They responded together.

After the sound of Johnny’s spurs faded at the top of the stairs, Murdoch bent to bank the fire.  Standing again, he stretched his sore back. 

Thinking about the conversation he’d just had with Johnny, Murdoch decided to wait for Joe.

He didn’t have to wait long.  The front door opened, and Joe walked in, putting his hat on the hat rack.  “Murdo, you didn’t have to wait up for me.”

“I was just about to go up, but now that you’re in, I’ll lock up.”

“Well, then, I’ll head up.  It’s been a long day.  Night, Murdo.”

Murdoch smiled.  “Goodnight, Joe.  I’ll see you at breakfast.”

The smile faded from Murdoch’s face as Joe climbed the stairs.  Tomorrow, he would have to have a long talk with his friend.   The relationship with his sons was still too fragile to risk on a misunderstanding.

*****

Joe made his way to his room.  Closing the bedroom door, he leaned against the door, looked around at the large room, and smiled.  He could easily get used to this type of living.  It was a hell of a lot better than the one-room shack the town let him live in in Porterville.

As he undressed and got ready for bed, Joe was sure he and Murdoch would work out something.

---

The next morning came earlier than Scott wanted.  He hadn’t slept well after hearing Johnny’s story about Barker.  He’d kept quiet when Murdoch told Johnny he could go with Evans to Sacramento, but everything about Murdoch’s friend disturbed him on many levels.   He’d mulled over the same questions a dozen times during the night.  Why exactly had Joe Barker come to Lancer?  Was he looking for his ‘piece of the pie,’ as Johnny said? 

Scott’s biggest concern was that Joe Barker had brought up Johnny’s past.  Although his brother didn’t keep it a secret, it bothered Scott that Barker knew Johnny was Madrid.

First Evans and now Barker.  Johnny’s past was knocking—hell, kicking— at the door, and the big brother in him didn’t want to let it in.

It hadn’t surprised him that Johnny was angry.  He’d felt the same way, although he hadn’t voiced it quite so loudly.  The boy was working hard to turn his life around, and the thought of Murdoch handing over a partnership to Barker now would be like a slap in the face to the both of them.    

What had surprised Scott was Murdoch’s apparent denial of the implications of Barker’s visit and the continued defense of his friend. 

Finally, after hours of tossing and turning, he succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep, only to be awake well before dawn.

---

Murdoch was up early. Making his way to the kitchen, he was surprised to find Scott and Johnny already there, looking as sleep-deprived as he was and holding coffee cups. 

“Looks like none of us got much sleep last night.”

Johnny didn’t respond or raise his head, and Scott gave Murdoch a weary look. However, before either could answer, Joe strode into the kitchen. 

Joe gave both young men an appraising look and then shifted his eyes to Murdoch.

Murdoch smiled.  “Forgive the boys, Joe.  They don’t really wake up until they’ve had at least three cups of coffee.”

Joe pulled out a chair and sat. “I know what that’s like.  Working a ranch takes some getting used to.”  Looking across the table at Scott and Johnny, he asked, “How long have you two been here now?”

Scott raised his eyes from his cup to answer, but Murdoch beat him to it.  “They came home around the first week in April.”

“April?  So, what two months now?”

“About that,” Johnny answered, cutting his eyes to look at Joe.

“So, Scott, how long did it take you to make the trip from Boston?” Joe sipped his coffee.

“I left Boston the first week in March.  The entire trip was five weeks.”

“I thought the trains these days were faster than that.”

Scott smile.  “They are, but I took my time and stayed a few days in Saint Louis and San Francisco before coming to the ranch.”

Joe accepted a cup of coffee from Maria and nodded.  “And you, Johnny.  When did you—”

Johnny pushed back from the table.  “I’m heading out.  I want to get that herd moved today.  Scott, you coming?”    

Johnny walked out of the kitchen, his spurs ringing.  A few moments later, they heard the front door open and close with a slam.  He was gone before Scott realized what was happening.

“I guess I’d better catch up with him,” Scott said, pushing his chair back. “Excuse me. I’ll see you this afternoon.”

Murdoch wiped his mouth with a napkin.  “Scott, be sure you’re both back in time to clean up and change for the party.”

“Yes, sir.”   Scott left the kitchen and walked to the front door, taking his gun belt and hat. He followed his brother outside.

Murdoch looked across the table.  “I’m sorry about that, Joe.  There was no call for Johnny to act like that.”

“Forget it, Murdo.  I’ve heard Mad… he wasn’t much for small talk,” Joe laughed.  “He’ll come around when he gets to know me.”

“I hope so.” Murdoch paused.  “Joe, Johnny wants to ride to Sacramento with you and Evans when you leave.”

There was a look of surprise on Joe’s face. “Ride with us?”

“He wants to …make sure Evans has a good attorney.”

Joe looked down at the plate of bacon and eggs Maria placed in front of him.  “Sure, Murdo…sure.  I don’t suppose it can hurt anything to have him along.” 

“Good.  Now, eat up.  Maria isn’t going to be happy the boys left without eating.  I don’t want to make her any more unhappy by you not eating.”

Joe nodded and picked up his fork.  The rest of the meal was eaten as the two old friends talked.  They talked about those days in Abilene, about people they’d both known, about everything except what they both really wanted to talk about.

After breakfast, Joe walked out to the patio.  He looked around and drew a deep breath.  The place was perfect.  His friend had done alright when he decided to settle here.  The house, the land, the cattle…it was all perfect.

Around him, ranch hands were busy putting up decorations for the party that night.  He was about to go looking for Murdoch when he heard footsteps.  Joe knew it was Murdoch and waited. 

Glancing over his shoulder, he smiled, “Beautiful, Murdo, isn’t it?  Just beautiful.  Sure gonna hate to leave here.”

“I don’t blame you.  You’ve got a lot of trail ahead of you.”  Murdoch paused, “Joe, we’ve been able to level with each other, haven’t we?”

Joe laughed and turned to face Murdoch, “In the old days, that tone of voice meant you had some kind of a problem.”

“Maybe not.  I hope not.  Why didn’t you ever answer the letter I sent you last year?”

Here it was, the moment he’d been waiting for.  It was now or never.  “Offering me a partnership?”

“It couldn’t have been the money.  I told you I’d take your end of it out of salary.”

“No…no, not the money.  At the time, I felt what I was doing was important.  I wasn’t ready to quit right then.”

“But you are ready now?”

Joe didn’t want to seem too anxious.  “I’m ready… well, I’m ready to consider a couple of other things I have in mind.”

“Well, I hope you’ll consider a job here with us.”

His friend’s words were like a gut punch.  He took a breath before answering.  “A job?”

“We need you, Joe.   The boys are good, but you know they’re… young.  You’d be a big help around here.”

A big help.  Yes, he could, but Murdoch was talking about a job, not a partnership.

“Well, I think I’m getting a little too old, Murdoch, to be…help…to anybody.”

“I … I can’t offer you the partnership anymore, Joe.  It’s just not mine to give anymore.  You see, when the boys came back home, I cut them in for a third share each.”

Joe nodded, “That figures.”

“But there is a problem, isn’t there?”

Joe wanted to say yes…yes, there’s a problem, but he choked out a believable, “No…No.  A man’s family comes first, Murdo, and besides, you know I’ve got these other things to consider…  I may even stick behind the old badge for a while longer.  I don’t know.  It’s just that… that I’d like a little time to think about it.”

“Sure, take all the time you want.  You’ll always be welcome here, you know that.”

“You mean there’ll always be a place for ‘old Joe? ‘” His voice was sarcastic, and he wanted to retract his words as soon as he said them.

Murdoch tried to ease the tension in the conversation.  “Oh, now, Joe, you know what I mean,”

“No, I know that.  I was just kidding.  And say, if you ever want to become a deputy again, you can come looking for me.” 

Murdoch smiled, “Sure thing… Well, hey, what do you say we ride out and have a look at the north range?”

“No, you go ahead.  I think, if you don’t mind, I’ll just sit here for a bit.  Think things out.  Maybe I’ll stretch my leg a little later, take a walk, or talk a little ride by myself…”

“Don’t get lost, now.  We don’t want you to miss that dance tonight.”

Joe stayed where he was for a moment as Murdoch walked away.  Standing, he removed the well-worn letter and looked at it.  There was no need to read it again; he had memorized it.    ‘Anytime you want to give up being a town Marshal, just remember I’m holding a share of this ranch for you.’

Deliberately, he tore the letter up and let the pieces fall to the ground.  With a sigh, he walked to the barn and saddled his horse.  Mounting up, he rode out.

Joe did a lot of thinking as he rode southeast of the house.   He had no other option open to him.  He was going to help Evans, collect his five thousand dollars, and get as far away from California as he could. 

Joe knew that this was his only shot at helping Evans escape. If he didn’t act tonight, he’d never have another chance.

As he rode through the ranch, the ground beneath his horse’s hooves felt hard and unyielding, with rocks jutting out at every turn, making it hard to track over. In the distance, a rocky peak stood tall, its silhouette etched against the blue sky. As he drew closer, Joe saw that the area was filled with wild cliffs, jagged boulders, and hidden ledges and caves, creating the perfect hiding place for Evans to wait until Joe could come for him.

Joe was smiling as he headed back to the ranch.

---

After breakfast and with Teresa’s strict instructions to be back by noon, Scott and Johnny rode out to where the men were gathering the herd. They stopped on a rise overlooking the herd and saw men still bringing the herd together. 

“Cipriano,” Johnny raised a hand, motioning to the Segundo.

Cipriano reined to a stop next to the brothers.  “Senors, buen días.”

“Good morning,” Scott replied.  Turning in the saddle, he looked around the pasture.  “They look good.”

“Si, but it is good the new pasture is fenced, and we are moving them.  The grass here will not last much longer.”

“When will you have them all together and ready to move?” Johnny asked.

“Tomorrow…maybe.”

Johnny laughed, “I don’t think so.  With the shindig Teresa has planned for tonight, the men won’t be in any condition to move them tomorrow.” 

“I don’t believe Murdoch will object to the day after tomorrow then,” Scott added.

“When does the Patron plan to go to the auction to buy more cattle?”

“Next week.”

“You will go with him?”

Johnny shrugged.  “Not sure if he wants either of us along.”

“He hasn’t mentioned us going with him,” Scott said.  “Why?  Has he said something to you?”

Cipriano shook his head.  “No, but it is a long trip by horse alone.  I would think he would enjoy having his sons with him.”

Scott nodded.  “Maybe we should talk to him about going.  We haven’t had any time away from the ranch…just the three of us… since we’ve been here.”

“I’ll let you do that, brother.  Right now, I want to get some work done and get back by noon.  I don’t want Teresa yelling because we’re late.”

“She is enjoying her role as the first lady of Lancer, isn’t she?  I must admit it’s taken a lot of planning to prepare for the party.”

“Yeah, but she can be too bossy.  You know she’s expecting me to get all dressed up and go to this thing.”

Scott smiled.  “She isn’t the only one.  I believe our father is expecting you to attend also.”

Johnny shook his head.  “I might show up, but don’t expect me to do any dancing.”

“I won’t say another word.  I’ll let Murdoch and Teresa do the talking.  Now, let’s see if we can round up a few head before we have to go back.”

After splitting up, the brothers didn’t see each other for the rest of the morning.  It was almost noon when Johnny herded the strays he’d found into the main herd.  Looking around, he saw Scott dismount and check his horse’s right front hoof.

“What’s wrong?” Johnny asked as he reined to a stop next to Scott.

Scott lowered his horse’s hoof and straightened up.  “A stone bruise, I think.” 

Johnny scanned the pasture.  Seeing Cipriano on the other side of the herd, he whistled.  The Segundo waved and started their way.

“Senor Scott?” Cipriano stopped next to them.

“He’s pulled up lame.  Nothing serious, just a stone bruise, but we have to be back at the ranch by noon.  I can’t ride him.”

“Why don’t you ride double with me?” Johnny said.  “Cipriano can have one of the hands walk your horse back to the ranch.”

“No, Senor.  We have spare horses.  I will have Jose bring you a fresh horse, and he can walk yours back to the ranch.” 

“That’s a good idea.  Thank you.”

Cipriano rode away, and within minutes, Jose returned with another horse.  They switched Scott’s tack to the new horse and started for home, leaving Scott’s horse in Jose’s capable hands.

As Scott and Johnny neared the arch, the dust kicked up by their horses mixed with the warm afternoon sun created a hazy glow. Amidst this golden haze, Scott spotted Joe Barker making his way toward the house from the east.

Scott reached out to stop his brother. “I wonder where he went by himself? I thought Murdoch was going to show him around.”

Johnny shrugged.  “Maybe the old man got tied up with something else.  Come on, I’m hungry.”

---

Joe rode up to the guardhouse and dismounted.  He tied his horse to the hitchrail and walked into the dimly lit building.

Gibbs was sitting at the table in the guard room, cleaning his gun. Without looking up, he asked, “Have you made any decisions yet, Joe?”

“Yeah, we’ll stay for the social tonight, then pull out in the morning.  Go tell Thompkins.”

Gibbs tossed the cleaning rag down, stood, and walked outside.

Joe waited until the deputy was gone before moving across the room and standing in front of the cell door.  Looking inside, he saw Evans seated on the bench.  “Evans…”

Evans looked up.  “What is it?”

Joe motioned, “Over here…”

The prisoner got to his feet and crossed to the door. 

“The five thousand still go?” Joe whispered.

Evans huffed, “What’s the matter, Barker?  Didn’t Murdoch Lancer give you half the ranch?”

Joe’s temper flared, “You must want to hang!”

“What do you know?  I must have hit something tender.”

“Murdoch Lancer’s a friend of mine!  He’ll always be a friend of mine.”

“Money in your pocket, Barker.  That’s the only friend a man can trust.  I guess you know that now… or you wouldn’t be here.  When do we move?”

Joe hesitated, thinking about what he was about to do.  “Tonight.”

Joe saw the smile on Evans’s face, and his stomach flipped.  He’d just made a deal with the devil and knew he would regret it one way or another…he’d regret it.

---

Scott and Johnny rode into the yard and dismounted as a ranch hand rushed out to take the horses.   

“Gracias, Miguel.”  Johnny handed the vaquero the reins to Barranca.

Miguel looked at the horses, knowing the one Scott rode wasn’t his.  “Senor Scott, your horse?”

“He’s got a stone bruise. Cipriano is walking him in.  When he gets here, see what you can do.  I’ll be back out later to check on him.”

Miguel nodded and led the horses away.

“Come on,” Johnny said and started towards the front door.

They had only taken a few steps when they heard their names.

“Scott.  Johnny.”

Turning, they saw Joe coming out of the guardhouse, waving at them.

“Mr. Barker,” Scott said, removing his gloves and tucking them into his belt.

“Enjoy the ride?” Johnny asked.

“Yes, yes, I did.” Joe looked confused, unsure how they’d known he’d been riding.  “How…?”

“Your horse is tied outside the guardhouse,” Johnny answered.  “Figured you’d gone for a ride.”

“You don’t miss much, do you, Johnny?”

Johnny didn’t respond.

Trying to fill the uncomfortable silence, Joe said, “Murdo has quite a place here.”

Scott glanced at his brother.  Johnny’s blue eyes had gone dark, and the expression on his face told him he needed to say something quickly, but what?   He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get the words out, Teresa walked out of the house. 

“It’s about time you two got home.  Lunch is ready in the dining room.”

“Dining room?” Scott responded.

“We’re too busy in the kitchen to have you in there.  Oh, Mr. Barker, I’m glad you’re back.   I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve made some sandwiches and lemonade.  Please help yourself.  Murdoch’s at his desk.”

“Well, thank you, Miss Teresa.  That will be fine.  I’d better go check on Evans before I eat.”

“Maria sent lunch to the guardhouse for your prisoner and Mr. Thompkins and Mr. Gibbs.”

Barker turned and walked away, calling over his shoulder, “Tell Murdo I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Teresa went back inside, leaving Scott and Johnny where they were.  Scott opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

“Don’t, Scott.  Don’t say a word.”

“He didn’t mean to imply…”

“That Murdoch is the only one who counts here?  That he has more of a claim to the ranch than we do?  Well, maybe he’s right.  Maybe we’re the ones late to the party.  The old man made that offer to Barker a hell of a long time before he made it to us.  Maybe the old man’s old friend means more to him than we do.”

“You know that’s not true.”

Johnny turned towards the barn.  “Do I?”

“Where are you going?  I thought you were hungry.”

“Lost my appetite.”

Scott shook his head and walked inside. He removed his hat and gun belt and hung both on the hat tree. Stepping into the Great room, he found Murdoch right where he expected him to be. “Sir.”

Murdoch looked up from the papers he’d been reading.  “Oh, Scott.  Good.  You’re home.”  He stood and walked around the desk.  “I thought I heard Joe’s voice.”

“He said he’d be in after he checks on his prisoner.”

Murdoch nodded.  “Are you ready to eat?  The ladies didn’t have time for much of a lunch.  Teresa said we’re to make do with sandwiches.”

“She told us…me.”

Looking past Scott, Murdoch frowned.  “Where’s your brother?”

“He’s taking care of something in the barn.  I’ll clean up and be right back down.”

Scott took the stairs two at a time, hoping the topic of Johnny’s absence didn’t come up again.

---

The party that night was the first at Lancer since the previous November when Pardee’s raids began. Many things changed in the following months.  After Paul O’Brien’s death and the return of Scott and Johnny home, Teresa’s status shifted from being Paul’s daughter to Murdoch Lancer’s ward. As the new mistress of the hacienda, the sixteen-year-old took it upon herself to organize the party, handle the decorations, and welcome Murdoch’s guests as they arrived.

As Joe stepped out of the house and onto the patio, he was greeted by the soft glow of lanterns swaying overhead in a gentle breeze.  His eyes scanned the area and landed on the long wooden table on one side of the brick-paved patio.  The table was loaded with platters of juicy beef, roasted and fried chicken, golden corn on the cob, freshly baked bread, and an array of desserts.  At the far end of the patios was another table with a large punch bowl filled to the brim with what looked like a fruity beverage.

When the music started, a smiling Teresa stepped up to Murdoch. “Murdoch, dance with me.”

Murdoch looked around the patio and shook his head.  “Let the party get started first.”

“You’re starting it.”

Murdoch balked.  “Teresa—”

“Murdoch Lancer, you made a solemn promise to me, and I’m not letting you out of it.”

Murdoch looked down into the young girl’s sparkling blue eyes and couldn’t refuse.  Taking her in his arms, he began with a few tentative steps before getting the feel of it.  Soon, he was twirling Teresa around the floor.  It didn’t take long before the party was in full swing, with everyone enjoying the music, food, and dance.   

Thompkins walked over to stand next to Joe.  They both watched Murdoch and Teresa for a moment before Thompkins said, “He’s all right.”

Joe nodded.  “You should have seen him twenty years ago.”

One song ended, and another began.

Murdoch stepped back from Teresa and glanced around.  As he started to leave the dance floor, Teresa took his arm.  “Come on, one more.”

Murdoch shook his head.  “You’re going to have to wait for Scott or Johnny.  They’ll be able to keep up with you.”

“Please…”  Teresa smiled, and her young face lit up and melted his heart.

“Oh… Miss Teresa…

Once again, Murdoch and Teresa graced the dance floor.   It wasn’t long before everyone, including Joe and Thompkins, was dancing.  

When the dance ended, Murdoch took himself to one side to catch his breath.  Looking around, he wondered where his sons were.

---

Scott’s afternoon went by quickly. Murdoch had him going over contracts until it was time to change for the party. He’d seen Johnny briefly around four o’clock but hadn’t had a chance to talk to him.  

As he descended the stairs, Scott could hear the first notes of music, signaling the party was beginning.  The dance was underway, but he needed to check on his horse before anything else.

Stepping outside, hat in hand, he paused, surprised to see his brother standing alone on the portico, still dressed in the clothes he’d worn earlier in the day.

Murdoch had made it abundantly clear to his two sons that attending the dance was mandatory.  It was the first time since coming home that such an event had happened, and he planned to officially introduce his ‘boys’ to his neighbors and friends. 

Scott knew it was especially important to Murdoch that Johnny attend.  He couldn’t help but smile as he walked closer to the one person who could ruin the event for their father.  “How about it, Johnny?”

“No.” Johnny’s single-word response came as he slid to sit against one of the portico support posts. 

When Johnny’s eyes flicked across the yard toward the guardhouse, Scott asked, “You still worried about Evans?”

“No, I don’t feel much like dancing.  That’s all.”  Johnny laughed, “I don’t have my dancing shoes on.”

Scott nodded as he put on his hat.  “Well, I’ll see you later.” 

Johnny noted the hat in his brother’s hand. “Where you going?”

“The barn.  I want to check on my horse before going to the party.” 

As Scott walked off toward the barn, he glanced back at Johnny.  The boy could say he wasn’t worried about Evans all he wanted, but Scott knew better.  They hadn’t known each other long, but the big brother in Scott could tell Johnny’s mind was on the guardhouse and its occupant.

After checking on his horse, Scott circled back to the patio, his steps echoing on the flagstones, where couples danced to the changing rhythms of fiddle music.  Stepping through the arched doorway at the end of the walled patio, he saw Teresa standing near the punch bowl, dressed in the lavender dress she’d spent weeks making.

Striding across the tiled floor, he stopped in front of Teresa.  “May I have the pleasure?”  Scott smiled and took the cup of punch from Teresa’s hand.

Teresa looked at Scott and then at the doorway.  “Where’s Johnny?”

Scott knew the question was coming and was ready for it. “Oh, he’s got something on his mind right now.  He’ll be in later.”  Offering Teresa his arm, he led her to the dance floor.

As the music started, Murdoch’s face lit up with a beaming smile.  He watched as Scott and Teresa took the floor.  Taking a moment to absorb the lively atmosphere, he breathed in deeply and allowed himself to relax. Everyone was chatting and laughing and seemed to be having a good time. All the planning and preparation that Teresa had put into Lancer’s first party in over a year was a huge success. 

Noting Johnny’s absence, Murdoch’s smile disappeared. He’d hoped to have both his sons at the party. Determined to find his youngest, Murdoch started to look for him when one of the neighbor women walked up to him. The next thing he knew, he was dancing; Johnny forgotten for the moment.

When he wasn’t dancing, Scott made the rounds, meeting all their neighbors. In almost every case, they asked about Johnny. All he told them was that Johnny would be along later. He’d seen Murdoch looking around the courtyard and toward the entrance more than once. 

After what had happened at dinner the night before and not showing up for lunch, Scott knew Johnny was skating on thin ice with their father.  He only hoped his brother was ready and willing to accept the consequences of not making an appearance.

---

One dance after another followed until Joe was sure Thompkins was fully occupied. Then, he worked his way to the patio entrance and stood at the threshold.  Taking his hat, he stepped outside and strode across the yard, looking in around to see if anyone was watching him.

Opening the guardhouse door, he stepped inside the dimly lit guard room. “Your turn, Gibbs.”

Gibbs looked up from the game of solitaire he was playing.  “Worthwhile?”

Joe continued smiling.  “Only if you like pretty girls.”

Gibbs smiled and tossed the cards in his hand down.  “I hate ‘em.”

“Evans?”

Gibbs stood and walked out.  “He’s alright.”

Joe waited until Gibbs walked out before picking up the key from the table and crossing the cell door.  Unlocking it, he motioned Evans out.

“What’s the plan?” Evans asked.

Joe pulled a map out of his shirt pocket and unfolded it.  Laying it on the table, he pointed to the trail he’d ridden earlier in the day.  “You go south, on the trail.  You’ll come to a needle rock.  Wait there till dawn, and then follow the map…” Joe pointed to the map.  “There’s a cave.”

Evans examined the map and then glanced at Joe.  “Take your horse?”

Joe shook his head.  “On foot.”

“Foot!”

“Till I get there…,” Joe snapped.

When the outside door opened, both men realized they weren’t alone. Gibbs was standing in the open doorway, his face showing a mix of surprise and confusion.

The next few seconds moved so quickly that Joe didn’t even know what was happening until it was over. 

When Evans saw Gibbs, he took a step behind Joe and, without warning, grabbed the gun from the Marshal’s holster.  Stepping to Barker’s left, Evans fired twice, hitting Gibbs in the chest.

Instinctively, and as his last act on earth, Gibbs drew and returned fire as he started falling, hitting Evans in the leg. A second shot from Evans sent the deputy to the floor.

Joe moved to Gibbs’s side, already knowing the man was dead.  This wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen. 

Suddenly, Joe realized the gunshots were heard by anyone outside.  He turned to Evans and barked, “Get going!”

“My leg,” Evans whined.

“Take his horse.  Wait at the cave.”

“They’ll come after me.”

“I’ll stop ‘em here.  Now get going, and don’t leave until I get there.”

---

Johnny was on the front portico, shuffling his feet to the music, when he heard the distinctive sound of four gunshots.  He started running towards the guardhouse.  As he got closer, he saw the shadow of a man dart out the guardhouse door and head for the corral.

The man turned, saw him, and fired, sending Johnny rolling toward the corral fence.

Johnny pushed himself to his feet and fired a quick shot as the man climbed on a saddled horse.

When the man jumped the corral gate, Johnny fired a second shot at the man as the horse and rider disappeared into the darkness.

---

Joe watched Evans leave and then looked back to Gibbs’s body sprawled on the floor.  Spurred into action by the sound of gunfire outside, he picked up Gibbs’s gun and then grabbed the man’s legs and began to drag him. 

He had barely gotten Gibbs into the cell when he heard footsteps in the guard room. With a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead, he slinked into the corner behind the door and waited, his gun raised, ready to hit whoever came into the cell.

He heard footsteps, and then someone leaned over Gibbs.   Joe lowered the butt of his gun, knocking the man out.  It was only then, to his shock, that he realized the man was Murdoch’s younger son.   

Things had gone from bad to worse.  He had to get out of there.  No one would believe Johnny Lancer would kill Gibbs and set Evans free.   Then, a thought briefly filtered through.  No, no one would believe Johnny Lancer would, but Johnny Madrid was another matter.  If Johnny were out of the way, maybe…just maybe, he’d have a place at Lancer after all.

Joe stepped over the two bodies at his feet and crossed the guardroom.  Opening the door, he looked around, breathing a sigh of relief when he realized no one had heard the gunfire. 

Without hesitation, he walked across the yard and back to the party.

Joe casually walked through the archway into the patio.  Looking around, he breathed a sigh of relief that no one was paying any attention to him.  Noticing Thompkins was dancing with Teresa and Scott with a woman he didn’t know, he made his way around the patio to where Murdoch was standing near the punchbowl. 

He picked up a cup but had to steady his hand before pouring a glass of punch.  Downing the one glass, he filled it again and took a sip, aware Murdoch was looking at him.

Murdoch had known Joe Barker well twenty years earlier and could tell something was on his friend’s mind.  “Something wrong, Joe?”

“No,” Joe responded quickly, “Just a little warm.”

---

Scott was dancing with Amy Fletcher when he noticed Joe Barker skirting the dance floor and moving to the far side, where Murdoch was dipping into the punch bowl.   When the music ended, he decided to join them. 

“Can I have one of those?” Teresa asked.

Murdoch handed her a cup and then poured one for him.

Joe looked nervously toward the patio entrance.  “Where’s Thompkins going?”

They all turned in time to see Tompkins leaving the courtyard.

“Oh,” Teresa sipped her drink.  “To relieve Mr. Gibbs.”

Joe sat his cup down.  “I was supposed to do that.”

“Oh, but you haven’t danced with me yet, Mr. Barker.”

Joe glanced towards the entranceway again and started to protest when Murdoch added, “Come on now, Joe.  Your turn.  Let’s see what you can do.”

Teresa reached for Barker’s hand and gave him one of her most charming smiles.  “Come on.”

Joe had planned to be the one to find Johnny and Gibbs in the guardhouse. He wanted to be there when Thompkins walked in so that he could take control of the situation. Now, he had no choice but to accept the invitation. “Oh, alright.”

As Joe and Teresa began dancing, Scott poured himself a drink.  Shifting closer to his father, he sipped his drink.   “He seems to be under some kind of strain.”

“Yeah,” Murdoch nodded.  “We had a little chat this afternoon.  It turned out fine…just fine.” Scott wondered who his father was trying to convince.

When Joe and Teresa finished their dance, Barker went back to stand next to Murdoch, and Teresa set a course directly for Scott.

Teresa flashed him a smile.  “Dance with me.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“No, I’m not tired.”  She grabbed Scott’s arm and pulled him onto the dance floor.  “Now come on.”

One dance led to another.  Joe knew Thompkins had already found Gibbs and Johnny.  Now, all he could do was act surprised when the news reached Murdoch.

---

When Johnny came to, his head was pounding, and he found himself lying next to Gibbs’ blood-covered body.   

Slowly, he pushed himself onto his knees, shook his head, immediately sorry for the movement, and stared down at the deputy.

The sound of footsteps in the guardroom caused him to shift his gaze.  Thompkins drew his gun and pointed at him.

“Drop your gun.”

Johnny glanced at the gun in his hand and then back to Thompkins, knowing what it looked like.  “Look, I didn’t shoot him.”

“Drop it, or I’ll kill you!”

When Johnny hesitated, Thompkins cocked his gun and aimed.

With no choice, Johnny tossed his gun aside and came to his feet, facing Thompkins.  The anger in the man’s eyes told him this wasn’t the time to argue.

Behind Thompkins, Frank walked in, and his eyes went from Johnny to the body on the floor to Thompkins.  “Johnny.”

There was no doubt who Johnny wanted.  “Go get Murdoch.”

Frank gave him a quick nod and ran out the door.

---

It was close to eleven, and Scott was still dancing with Teresa when he saw Frank at the patio entrance.  He thought nothing of it at first.  As he turned Teresa, Scott watched Frank cross the patio and go straight to Murdoch.  

“Mr. Lancer…”

“Frank…” Murdoch paused, noticing the expression on the man’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“You need to come to the old guardhouse … there’s trouble.”

Joe Barker was instantly at Murdoch’s side.  “Murdo?”

“I don’t know, Joe.   Frank says there’s trouble at the guardhouse.”

Without another word, Joe strode across the patio and into the yard, anxious to find out what was happening in the hell he’d created.

 Murdoch looked around for Scott and motioned him to follow.

Teresa grabbed Scott’s arm.  “What’s wrong?”  Teresa asked, looking first at Scott and then at Murdoch as he hurried out the patio door, motioning Scott to follow.

“I’m not sure.” Scott guided Teresa to the edge of the dance floor.  “You stay here.”

“But, Scott….”

“Teresa, I have to go.  Please stay here.”

---

By the time Scott reached the old guardhouse, a crowd was forming outside.  He could hear Murdoch’s booming voice long before he arrived. Pushing past the men standing in the doorway, he stopped to take in the scene.

A body covered with a blanket lay on the floor of the cell while Murdoch towered over an unyielding Thompkins.

“What’s going on here?”  Joe asked.

Thompkins looked first at Murdoch and then Joe.  “Lancer here,” he pointed over his shoulder, “shot Gibbs and let Evans escape.”

Murdoch shook his head. “That’s ridiculous.  Johnny wouldn’t do something like that.”

Scott’s heart pounded in his chest.  What did Johnny have to do with this?  Scott’s eyes went back to the body.  Was that his brother?

He breathed a sigh of relief when Barker moved, and he saw Johnny sitting at the table wearing handcuffs. 

“I told you I didn’t shoot Gibbs,” Johnny snapped. 

“Yeah, sure.  I found you standing over Gibbs’ body with a gun in your hand.”

“I told—”

“Tell me what happened,” Murdoch stormed across the room to stand beside his youngest son.  Scott noted the subtle movement of Murdoch’s hand as he put it on Johnny’s shoulder and gently squeezed it.

“I want to hear as well.” Scott walked to stand on the other side of his brother.  Looking at Johnny’s pale face, he asked, “Are you alright?” 

Johnny raised his cuffed hands and rubbed the knot on the back of his head.  “Yeah, I’m alright.”

“Go ahead, John.” Murdoch looked down at his son and nodded.  “Tell us what happened.”

 “Alright, I was outside the hacienda listening to the music and keeping an eye on the guardhouse at the same time.”

“Why?” Thompkins snapped.

“Why what?” Johnny gave the deputy a piercing look.

“Why watch the guardhouse?  You were waiting for your chance to let Evans go, weren’t you?”

“No.  I was making sure you didn’t take Evans out and shoot him trying to escape.”

Thompkins laughed.  “You think we’d do that?”

“Evans believed you would.  I believed Evans, especially after you worked him over.”

“Evans tried to escape after we got inside the guardhouse.  He got roughed up when we tried to put him in the cell.” Thompkins turned to Barker.  “Tell him, Barker.  Tell him how you got careless and let Evans out of the cell.  How me and Gibbs had to get him back.”

“That’s enough, Thompkins.”  Barker stepped forward.  “Go on, Johnny.  Tell us what happened.”

Johnny lowered his head and took a deep breath.  “I heard shots coming from the guardhouse and came running.  I was almost here when I saw someone jump on a horse in the corral and ride away.    He took a couple of shots at me.  I fired at him twice and missed.”

Thompkins snorted. “You missed?”

Johnny gave Thompkins a murderous look and almost came out of the chair.

Murdoch put a firm hand on his son’s shoulder and pushed him down. “Go on, Johnny,”

“Yeah, I missed,” Johnny snapped.  “Anyway, that’s when I came in here.  I saw Gibbs, and when I went to check on him, someone hit me on the head.   The next thing I knew, I was waking up.  I’d just gotten to my feet when Thompkins came in.  He saw me standing over Gibbs and… well, you know the rest.”

“So, you saw Evans escaping and tried to stop him?” Scott asked.

“That’s right.” 

“Did you see who hit you?” Barker joined in.

“No.” Johnny shook his head.  “I walked right into it.”

Murdoch rubbed his hand across the back of his son’s head.  “There’s a knot there, alright.”  He looked at Thompkins.  “How do you explain that?”

“I don’t need to explain it.  Maybe Evans and your boy had a falling out.  All I know is Gibbs is dead, Evans is gone, and Johnny was here with a gun in his hand.” 

Thompkins’s sneer was enough to put Scott in motion.  “You really believe that if Johnny was helping Evans, he’d still be here for you to find him.”

“We’ll let a judge and jury in Sacramento decide it.  Right now, I’m locking him up.”

Thompkins pulled Johnny up by his arm and shoved him towards the cell.  He started to close the wooden door when Barker stopped him. “Take the cuffs off of him.  He won’t need them in there.”

Thompkins did as he was told, then slammed the door and locked it.

Murdoch’s eyes were on his son’s face as he stood on the other side of the barred window.

Joe walked up to the cell.  “It’s gonna be alright, Johnny.  Now, you just take it from me. It’s gonna be alright.”

Scott started forward when Barker’s raised voice drew their attention back to the center of the room.  “… look, Johnny didn’t have a reason to break Evans out.”

“They were friends,” Thompkins angrily rebutted.

“Friends? They knew each other.  That’s all.”

Thompkins snorted, “What is it, Barker?  You still trying to buy your way in here?”

“Thompkins, I warned you, Thompkins…”

“I don’t want to fight you, Barker, but Lancer had a reason and a clear field while we were all at the dance.  There are two bullets in Gibbs’ body.” Thompkins picked up Johnny’s gun and held it up, “And two bullets missing from Lancer’s gun.”

“Johnny explained all that.”

“Well, let him try explaining it to a judge.”

Murdoch put a hand on Joe’s shoulder.  “Joe, the only way to clear Johnny is to catch up with Evans.”

Joe nodded.  “I’ll take a posse out at first light.”  He looked at Thompkins.  “And I want you with me.”

Thompkins nodded.  “If Murdoch will guarantee a guard on his boy.” He looked at Murdoch.  “Otherwise, we head for Sacramento right now.”

Murdoch glanced behind him.  Frank was standing closest to him.  “Frank, you take the first shift.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Lancer.”

Murdoch walked to the cell door.  His heart broke, seeing his son’s face framed in the window.  “Johnny… you’ll be out of here by tomorrow night.”

Scott was near the cell door when he heard Murdoch’s last words, and could only hope those words were the truth.  As for him, he wouldn’t stop until Evans was caught and Johnny cleared.

Wanting to get as close to his brother as possible, Scott moved across the room to stand near the door’s small barred window.  Scott and Johnny’s eyes met.  They hadn’t known each other long, but it was long enough for Scott to know his brother would never have killed Gibbs or set Evans free. 

Scott was standing next to the cell door when Joe walked across the room and joined him. 

“Johnny.  I know you wouldn’t pull a stunt like that… Everything’s gonna be alright.  You believe me now.  Everything’s gonna be alright.”

Scott didn’t miss Johnny’s piercing glare at the marshal. At that moment, it wasn’t Johnny Lancer looking out from behind the bars; it was Johnny Madrid, and he wondered if Joe Barker had noticed.

It was only after Murdoch set Frank as the guard and everyone left that Scott was able to speak briefly with his brother.

“Are you sure you’re alright?  Does Murdoch need to send for Sam?”

“Naw..” Johnny rubbed the back of his head again.  “Got a hell of a headache, but I’ve been hit harder.”

“Still…”

Johnny gave his brother a slight smile.

“Alright, but if you need anything, let Frank know.  You realize Teresa’s going to be beside herself worrying about you.”

“I know, but Scott, keep her out of here.  She don’t need to see me here.”

“I’ll do my best, but I can’t guarantee anything.”

Johnny nodded and looked towards the guardhouse door.  “Hey, Scott, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Scott nodded. Barker kept reassuring them that everything was going to be alright.  What had Shakespeare said…he doth protest too much, methinks. 

“Yeah,” Scott pushed off the cell wall, “don’t trust Barker.”

In those brief words, the brothers had once again bonded in a common goal.

Scott looked at Frank.  “If Johnny needs anything, let us know.  He says he’s alright, but that was quite a blow he took on the head.”

“Don’t worry, Scott.  I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Thank you, Frank.  I appreciate it, and I know Murdoch does.”

Scott quickly turned and walked outside.  The crowd had cleared, but standing at the patio’s edge, Scott could see Teresa and Maria holding each other and waiting for word about what was happening. 

Scott walked up next to Murdoch and touched his father’s arm.  “Let’s try to get some sleep.  I’ll go tell Teresa what’s happened.”

Murdoch turned to Barker.  “Joe, I’m counting on you tomorrow.  You have to find Evans for us.”

“Don’t worry, Murdo.  Everything is going to be alright.”

“I hope you’re right, Joe.   I hope you’re right.”

“Patron?” Cipriano stepped forward.

“We’ll get this cleared up in the morning.  Cipriano, I want you and as many hands as possible to go out with the posse.  We have to find Evans and bring him back to clear Johnny of this.”

“I understand, Patron.” 

As Cipriano walked away to speak to the hands, Scott walked up next to Murdoch.  He put a hand on his father’s arm.  “Let’s try to get some sleep.  I’ll go tell Teresa what’s happened.”

As Scott walked across the yard, Teresa ran towards him.  She threw her arms around him when he was close enough and shook her head.  “Scott, they’re saying Johnny killed Mr. Gibbs.”

Holding Teresa, Scott could feel her shivering.  “Don’t believe everything you hear, Teresa.  You shouldn’t be out here.  It’s too cold.”

“Where is he?” Teresa looked towards the guardhouse.

“Thompkins has him in the cell.”

Maria gasped and crossed herself while Teresa sobbed into her shawl.  “It’s not true.  I know it’s not true.” 

“No.  It’s not true.”

“What is Murdoch going to do?”

“Barker and Thompkins are riding out with a posse in the morning.  I’ll be riding with them.”

“And Johnny?”

“He’s safe where he is.  Let’s get inside and try to get some sleep.”

“Maria and I will have breakfast ready at five.”

“Good.  I know I’ll need it, and I think taking Johnny something would be a good idea.”

“I’ll make sure he has a good breakfast.” They turned back to the house, and Teresa stopped.  “Scott, does Mr. Barker believe Johnny’s guilty?”

“I don’t know.  Barker says he doesn’t, but…”

“But?”

“But… never mind.  We need to catch Evans and bring him back.”

“I know you’ll find him, Scott.  I just know it.”

---

The eastern sky was showing hints of pink and red as Scott trudged down the back stairs to the kitchen.   He hadn’t slept and doubted anyone else had either. 

Stepping into the kitchen, he found only Maria.  She looked at him and nodded towards the table.  “Sit, Senor Scott.  I will get your breakfast.”

“Where is every…” Scott caught himself before saying ‘everyone.’  “Murdoch?”

“The Patron is at his desk.  He does not know what to do with himself.”  She placed a plate in front of him with his usual ham and eggs.  

“Did he eat?”

Maria shook her head.  “No.  No one eats this morning.”

Scott sighed.  “What about Johnny?”

Maria smiled, “Senorita Teresa has taken his breakfast to him.”

Scott pushed the plate away, his appetite gone, and settled for coffee.  He’d taken a sip when the back door opened, and Teresa stepped in.

“Oh, Scott, good.  You’re up.”  She placed the empty tray on the counter and came to sit beside him.  “I just took Johnny his breakfast.”

“I heard.  How is he?”

“Oh, you know Johnny.  He was smiling, trying to make me feel better, but I could tell he was worried.  Are you going to see him before you leave?”

“I’ll see him when we bring in Evans.”

“But, Scott, he needs you.  He needs to know you believe in him.”

“I do believe in him, and I know he needs me.  He needs me to find Evans. I’ll tell you what.  You keep an eye on him for me today.  Right now, I need to speak to Murdoch before I leave.”

Scott pushed back from the table and started towards the door when he felt a hand on his arm.  Turning, he saw Maria looking up at him.  “You cannot find the bad man on an empty stomach.” She handed him a small bag.  “Ham and biscuits.”

Scott smiled and leaned down to kiss her cheek.  “Gracias, Maria.”

Walking out of the kitchen and through the dining room, Scott wondered how the day would turn out. A lot was riding on finding Al Evans, and if they didn’t, he had a decision to make of his own. There was no way in hell he was letting his little brother go to Sacramento.

Entering the Great room, he saw Murdoch seated at his desk, head in his hands.

“Sir.”

When Murdoch raised his head and looked his way, Scott was shocked by the haggard face and dark circles under his father’s eyes.

“I take it you didn’t sleep either?”

Murdoch shook his head.  “No.  I didn’t even try.  Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Johnny in that cell.  He shouldn’t be there.”

“No, he shouldn’t.” Scott looked around to make sure Barker was nowhere in sight.  “Murdoch, what are we going to do?”

“We’re going to do everything we can to bring Evans back and clear your brother.”

“And if we don’t find Evans?”

“Don’t even think that.”

“But if we can’t.  What are we…you going to do?”

“I… I’m not sure.”

Scott leaned forward and placed both hands on the desk.  “I can tell you right now, I’m not letting my brother go to Sacramento to be hung.  If Thompkins has his way, that’s exactly what will happen.”

“What would you have me do, Scott? 

“I don’t know, but you’d better think of something because Johnny did not kill Gibbs or help Evans escape.  I will not allow him to hang.”

“Even if it means you both become fugitives?”

“He’s my brother, Murdoch, and your son.  I will do anything to keep him safe.”

“Running from the law isn’t keeping either of you safe.”

“If that’s what it takes, so be it.” Scott sighed.  “Murdoch, I haven’t known my brother long, but I do know he’d rather take a bullet than be hung.”  

Murdoch stood and walked around the desk.  “You’re sure about that?”

“Sir, are you so sure he’ll get a fair trial?   Are you sure Barker wouldn’t be happier if Johnny were out of the way?”

“What are you saying?”

“Barker knows who Johnny is, doesn’t he?”

Murdoch cocked his head. “Who he is?”

“Let’s not play games.  Barker knows about Madrid.  Has he told Thompkins?”

It was Murdoch’s turn to sigh.  “No.  I don’t think he’s told Thompkins. Why do you ask?”

“That remark Thompkins made about Johnny missing.”

“I believe that was Thompkins being Thompkins.”

“And Barker…”

“Scott, I know Joe.  I don’t believe he would put the blame on Johnny to get him away from Lancer.”

“Even for a share of the ranch?”

“He knows a share isn’t possible.  With or without Johnny, Joe would never be a partner.”

“Does he know that?  You’ve told him that?”

“Well…I told him a partnership wasn’t possible because I’d given you and your brother a third share.  He must know that wouldn’t change.”  

Scott started to say something more but stopped when the French door opened, and Joe Barker stepped inside.  “We’re ready to go, Scott.  One of your men saddled your horse.”

“I’m ready.” Scott crossed the room and went to the hat tree.  He reached for his things, and his hand stopped when he saw Johnny’s rig and hat hanging beside his.  Glancing back at his father, Scott took his gun belt and strapped it on.  

Scott opened the front door and heard his father’s voice.  “Scott…”

Heaving a heavy sigh, he turned back.  “Murdoch.”

“Be careful, son, and…. well, bring Evans back.” 

Scott nodded and stepped outside.

Joe Barker tilted his head and looked at his friend.  “Murdo, is there something wrong?”

“The only thing that’s wrong, Joe, is sitting out there,” he pointed towards the guardhouse, “accused of something I know he didn’t do.”

“Don’t worry, Murdo.  We’ll find Evans and clear up this mess.”

Murdoch watched the posse disappear in a brown haze of dust and wondered what he was going to do with himself while waiting for their return. He stared at the guardhouse and just couldn’t bring himself to walk over there. The next time he saw his son, he wanted it to be when he opened that door and let him out.

---

Scott lifted his right leg and rested it on the side of his saddle.  With a gentle push, he shifted his hat back off his forehead.  They had been riding for hours, and after a night of little sleep, he was hot, tired, and frustrated.

The posse of six men had been tracking southeast of the hacienda since early that morning but with little success. Watching Joe Barker trying to determine which way Evan went wasn’t helping.   

Barker had been on and off his horse three times in the last hour.  Now, he was kneeling, examining tracks that apparently only he could see.

To his left, Thompkins leaned forward in the saddle. “I can’t see any tracks in these rocks.  Can you?”

Scott shook his head. 

Barker stood and pointed south.  “Yeah, towards the river.”

Scott straightened in the saddle and looked toward the rock outcropping to his right.  His gut was telling Evans was close.  “Barker, maybe he doubled back and is someplace on the ranch.”

“No, no,” Barker animatedly pointed towards the river. “He’d want to get as much distance as he could.”

Thompkins grinned.  “When did an old man like you become an ‘A’ number one tracker?”

Scott could see Barker was tired of Thompkins’s snide remarks, and frankly, so was he.  “Since before you were born, Sonny.”  Mounting his horse, he again pointed towards the river.  “Ok, get with it.  Move out.”

While the others followed Thompkins, Scott held back.  Johnny’s words from the night before screamed at him. “Don’t trust Barker.”  

When Joe reined his horse next to Scott’s, he couldn’t stay silent any longer.  “I still say he could have doubled back.”  Scott straightened his shoulders, determined not to be dismissed.  “I’d like to check.”

When Joe answered, Scott could hear the reluctance in his voice, “Sure, Scott,… I’ll go with you.”

Turning his horse, Scott gave the man a brief nod.  “Fine.”

They backtracked almost half a mile when Scott stopped.  His eyes went to the needle rock outcropping towering above them.  “There’s rough terrain up there.  Plenty of places he could hide.”

Joe quickly responded to Scott’s suggestion, trying to assert his own opinion, “Scott, I want to clear Johnny as much as you do, but that don’t mean we make trails where there aren’t any.  I say he headed for the river.”

Still not convinced but not wanting to argue, Scott nodded.  “Yeah, what do you say we go back for some fresh horses and join the others.”

Quick to agree, Joe smiled, “Yeah, I want to talk to your father anyway.”

---

It was late in the morning when Murdoch watched Joe and Scott ride back to the house.  He’d done nothing since they’d left that morning except think about his son.  The thought of losing Johnny again was tearing him up inside.     All he could do was trust in the law and his friend.   He had every confidence Joe would find Evans and clear Johnny’s name.

Joe was the first to dismount.

Murdoch walked up to his friend.  “Anything?”

“Sorry.”

Murdoch’s shoulders sagged.  He quickly turned and walked back into the house.

Joe hesitated momentarily before following, passing Teresa.

As Barker walked through the French doors, Teresa moved towards Scott.  “No luck, huh?”

“No,” Scott responded while watching Barker disappear into the house.

Teresa shook her head.  “Johnny wouldn’t do anything like that.  Scott, I’m scared.”

He gave Teresa a sympathetic look.  “Join the club.”

Scott turned to his horse, his mind made up.  He wasn’t waiting for Barker. 

---

In the Great Room, Murdoch turned to confront Barker.  “Joe, we’ve got to keep trying.  We can’t give up.”

Joe walked up to the drink cart and poured himself a glass of water.  Downing it, he looked at Murdoch.  “No one is talking about giving up.  But we have to face facts.  Evans has a six-hour head start through the toughest tracking country I’ve ever seen.”

Murdoch whirled on Barker.  “What do you mean, ‘face facts,’ Joe?  Accept that my son’s going to hang?”

“Let him go.”

Murdoch was surprised by the statement.  “Let him go?”

“Before the posse gets back.  That jury in Sacramento won’t have a choice.”

“When he gets to Sacramento, Evans will be with him.”

“It won’t happen that way, Murdoch.  I’m telling you.  Let Johnny go, or they’ll find him guilty.”

“You’re so sure of that, Joe.  You think Johnny’s guilty, too, don’t you?”   

“I don’t want to know.  I don’t care about Johnny right now.  I care about you.  He’ll break your heart, Murdo.  He came back into your life out of nowhere.  Don’t let him smash it.  I’m begging you… let him go.”

“Joe, he’s my son.  No matter how long he’s been gone, he’s… my… son.”

“Can you take it if they hang him?  That’s what we’re talking about, you know.  His life.”

Murdoch could feel the blood rushing to his head.  “That’s right…his life.  I won’t throw it away by making him a fugitive out of him.  No matter what, I won’t write Johnny off.”

“I’ll buy that, Murdoch, but are you sure it’s just your decision?  Don’t you think Johnny should have something to say about it?”

Murdoch shook his head.  “Joe…”

“Think about it, Murdo.  I’ve got to go back out.  Scott and I are going to meet the posse.  They were heading for the river.”

“Can you wait a few minutes?  I want to talk to Johnny.”

“Sure, Murdo… sure.”

---

Murdoch and Joe walked across the yard to the guardhouse in silence.  Murdoch had no idea what to say to his son nor how to breach the subject of his escaping while the posse was still out.

As Murdoch pushed the heavy door, it creaked open.  He wrinkled his nose and cringed at the building’s still stale and musty odor. The thought of his son being locked up here caused his stomach to roil.

Murdoch looked at the men standing watch over his son.  They were his men, his and his sons.  Just knowing that made him feel better. 

“I’d like to see Johnny.”  Murdoch walked toward the cell door.  Glancing over his shoulder, he said, “It’s alright.  You boys can take off for a while.”

The door opened, and Murdoch saw Johnny sitting on the long cot, a smile on his face.

“Hi.” Murdoch smiled back.

“Murdoch.”  Johnny shifted to the end of the cot.

The tall rancher moved into the cell, pulling the unlocked door closed behind him. 

 There was an anxious look on Johnny’s face. “What’s happening?”

“Nothing.”

Johnny dipped his head, not liking what he’d heard. 

Trying to ease the tension in his son, Murdoch moved to a neutral topic. “You get your breakfast?”

“Oh, yeah.” Johnny couldn’t help grinning.  “Teresa woke me up with it.  She had ham and eggs, coffee… the whole works.  You know.” 

Murdoch sat on the wooden stool and looked at his son, trying to find the right words.  Leaning forward, he placed his elbows on his knees.  “Scott’s still out on the posse.   He ought to be back soon.”

 “Well, don’t you think he’d been back sooner than this… if they’d found him?”   

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

 “You sound like you’re trying to tell me something.”

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

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

There was a pause before Murdoch said what he’d come to say: “So could you, Johnny.”

Johnny looked at his father, and his heart fell.  He thought Murdoch had come because he cared, but here he was, giving his youngest son the chance to ride away before the posse came back.  

Maybe Murdoch didn’t believe he was innocent after all. Having the family’s black sheep hightail it back to Mexico, where he belonged, was better than having the son of one of the valley’s most prominent citizens hung.

A bubble of anger rose in the younger man.  He’d come a long way from the gunhawk who rode alone in those border towns.  Sure, it hadn’t been that long ago, but …well, Johnny Lancer wasn’t going to make it that easy.  “Is that why you came here?  To give me the chance to escape?”

“It’s your decision.  You have to make it.”  Then, in almost a whisper, “Think about it.”

Johnny stared at his father.  He could see the expression on the worn and worried face.  The offer went against everything the man believed in.  If only he knew what Murdoch wanted to hear. 

Then, his mind made up, Johnny answered, “No, I already have.  I’m not gonna run.”

The look on Murdoch’s face told him he’d said the right thing.  He felt a slight flutter around that knot in my chest.  For the first time since coming home, Johnny thought he saw pride in his father’s eyes. That’s when he knew what he also wanted.  He’d been running most of his life from one thing or another.  He wasn’t going to run from this.  He owed that much to both of them.

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

Now, Johhny was mad.  “Barker, you make it sound like you’ve already given up on Evans.”

But Barker wasn’t interested in what he had to say.  Johnny knew who Barker was trying to sway.  “Murdoch, if you’ve got any sense, you’ll hustle that son of yours onto a horse and beat his tail out of here.”

“Joe—”

“But he doesn’t know what’s right for him.  Can’t you see that?”

“He knows what’s right for him.  We both do.”

Barker glared at the two of them with his eyebrows furrowed in anger. Turning, he marched away in frustration.

Murdoch looked back at Johnny. His voice softened, and there was a hint of regret in it. “I had to ask. You understand that, don’t you?”

All Johnny could muster was a weak “Sure.”

Neither of them knew what to do or say.  They still didn’t know each other well enough to show emotion.  It just wasn’t in either of them.  The best Murdoch could come up with was a hard slap to Johnny’s leg.  

“We’ll clear you of this.  I know we will.”

---

The conversation with Johnny had gone better than Murdoch had expected.  His son was willing to trust in the law and Joe Barker.  Murdoch was proud of the man he was. 

It wasn’t until they were outside that Joe confronted him.  “Murdo, you’ve got to convince that boy of yours to run.”

“Joe, he’s made his decision.”

“Murdoch, you don’t understand.  When they find out who he is—”

“Who he is?  Joe, he’s Johnny Lancer, my son.”

“No, Murdo, he’s Johnny Madrid.  He’s a gunfighter, a well-known gunfighter.  Do you really believe a judge and jury will believe he had nothing to do with gunning a deputy down and freeing a friend?”

“So, you do believe he is guilty.”

Barker turned away from his friend, unable to face him.  Murdoch saw the action and knew it meant Joe did believe Johnny was guilty.  He’d made it plain enough earlier in the cell, yelling that Johnny didn’t know what was good for him, that if he didn’t try to escape, he’d hang.

“Joe, you know me.  I trust my instincts.  I know my…Johnny wouldn’t do a thing like this.  Everything I know about his past tells me that Johnny, whether he’s going by the name Madrid or Lancer, would never kill a lawman.”

Barker stared at Murdoch for a long moment, then said, “Alright, Murdo.  If you believe him, so do I.”  

Murdoch relaxed.

“I’d better get back out there and look for Evans.” 

“Thank you, Joe.”

Neither man noticed Frank until he spoke.  “Mr. Lancer.”

Murdoch turned to face the hand.  “Frank.”

“Mr. Lancer, Pedro took over at the guardhouse.”

Murdoch smiled.  “Thank you, Frank.” 

Murdoch walked back to the house with Joe and Frank by his side.   Teresa was waiting for them.  “Murdoch, is Johnny alright?”

Murdoch put an arm around Teresa, “He’s fine.  Now, where is Scott?  Joe’s ready to ride out again.”

“Oh…Scott’s already gone.  He left about an hour ago.”

A worried look passed over Murdoch’s face.  “Did he say where he was going?”

Teresa shook her head.  “Just seemed to be in a hurry.”

Barker walked out of the house and reached for the reins of his horse.  “I’m going out again.  Is Scott ready?”

“He’s already gone,” Murdoch responded.

“Don’t blame him for being anxious… I’ll catch up with him.” 

Murdoch sensed something was wrong.  It wasn’t like Scott to go off on his own.  Murdoch looked across the yard and yelled, “Frank, saddle a couple of horses.”

---

After Joe went inside to talk to Murdoch, Scott mounted his tired horse and headed back to where they’d lost the trail.  Scott’s instincts were telling him Evans was still on the ranch.

When he reached the spot where he and Barker had broken away from the posse, something caught his eye.  Dismounting, he spotted blood on a rock.  His heart was beating faster, knowing he was on the right track.

Climbing back into the saddle, Scott followed a narrow trail through the rocks.  He climbed a steep slope, his concentration split between the ground ahead and thinking about Johnny.  Scott knew deep down Murdoch Lancer wouldn’t let his youngest son hang for a crime he didn’t commit.

He heard the shot only after feeling the bullet hit his right shoulder.  The last thing he remembered was tumbling off his horse, slamming into the ground, and rolling.

---

The terrain southeast of the hacienda was the roughest on Lancer.  This time of year, rock outcroppings with eroded caves towered over dried and burnt scrub grass.  The solid-packed dirt and rock made tracking almost impossible.  

Murdoch, Barker, and Frank followed the trail the posse had traveled a few hours earlier.  When they got to the point where the tracks split, Murdoch turned to Frank.  “See anything?”

“The main posse went that way,” Frank said, pointing to the left.  

“The posse went to the river, Murdoch,” Barker said.

Murdoch shook his head. “If he was going to join the posse, he wouldn’t have been in such a hurry.” 

“Evans went to the river.  Scott agreed with me on that.”

Frank dismounted and examined the tracks.  “Mr. Lancer…”  He motioned for Murdoch to join him.

Murdoch joined Frank.  On the ground were two sets of prints, one faint and the other fresher.

Murdoch looked over his shoulder at Barker.  “What do you think, Joe?”

Barker moved his horse closer.  “Those tracks have been there a long time, Murdoch.  Maybe since the last rain.”

“What about you, Frank?”

“I’d say so, Mr. Lancer.  No wind through here to blow dust over them.”

Murdoch looked both right and left.  “Well, I think you’re both wrong.  Let’s find out.”

Murdoch and Frank mounted up and followed the tracks into the rocky outcropping.  

“There.” Murdoch pointed to the same bloodstained rock Scott had seen.

Sure, now that he was on the right trail, Murdoch spurred his horse forward, with the others following.  While Murdoch and Barker looked up toward the hillside, Frank glanced down the slope to their left.  

“Mr. Lancer.”  Frank pointed to a riderless horse standing alone on the trail ahead.

Murdoch knew instantly the horse was Scott’s.  With his heart pounding, he kicked his horse forward.  Scanning the surrounding area, Murdoch spotted Scott’s unmoving body among the rocks.  Dismounting, he hurried to his son and knelt.  Frank joined him, kneeling on the other side. 

Joe stayed on his horse and looked down at the trio.  “Horse must have thrown him.”

Murdoch, seeing blood on Scott’s shirt, unbuttoned it and pushed it off his son’s shoulder.  “He’s been shot…  Doesn’t look too bad.”  Murdoch leaned closer, placing his ear near Scott’s face.  “Breathing’s good.  The fall must have shaken him.”

“We’d better get him back to the house,” Joe said while looking nervously around at the rock outcropping loaming over them.

Murdoch nodded at Frank.  “Help me move him to the shade.”

Frank took Scott’s feet while Murdoch lifted Scott’s shoulders.  Together, they lifted the wounded man and carried him to a shaded rock outcropping.

Barker snapped, “You’re not gonna leave him here?”

“He’s not badly hurt, Joe.  This may be our last chance to get Evans.”

“Forget Evans.  Scott’s more important than Evans, Murdoch.”

Murdoch looked back to Scott.  “Frank…”

“I’ll take care of him, don’t worry, Mr. Lancer…”

---

Murdoch looked around and then up towards the rocks outcropping.  He started walking and then turned to look at Joe.

“Coming, Joe?”

Barker dismounted, taking his rifle from the scabbard, but only took one step.  “We’d be a lot better off picking up the posse.”

Murdoch stopped and stared at his old friend as if seeing something for the first time.  “Two of us are plenty, Joe.  We’ve done it before.”

Joe laughed.  “We’re both a little older now, Murdoch.”

“I can shoot as well as I ever did.”

Murdoch turned and started up the slope.

“Murdoch, not that way.”

Murdoch stopped and looked upward.  “He was shot from above.”

“From the wound, it was someone dead ahead of him.”

“Then let’s split up.  I’ll climb.  You go ahead.”

Murdoch turned back to the path leading through the rocks.  “There’s some caves up that way.” Murdoch pointed toward the rocks higher up.

“Murdoch, let it go.”

Murdoch stopped and turned back.  “Why, Joe?”

“Because if anyone’s up there, you’ll be walking right into a bullet.  I don’t want to see you die this way.”

“What way, Joe?”

Murdoch didn’t miss Joe’s rifle being pointed his way.

“You know what I mean, Murdoch… it’s so easy for you.  Why get involved?”

“What’s easy for me?” Murdoch said, drawing his friend out.

“You could just turn around and ride back…we’d arrange things for Johnny to get away… he’d be just as happy in Mexico with a sack of money… he wasn’t really cut out for this kinda life anyway… you’d be better off, you’d see.”

 “Better off?” Murdoch could not hide his feelings.  “Better off without my son?”

“You’re not losing him.  He’ll be around.  That’s what I’m trying to do…save him for you!”  Joe pleaded.  “You got one son…a big ranch…everything.  Isn’t that enough?  Look at me, I got nothing…  Twenty years a lawman, and I owe them money!  I didn’t tell you that, did I, Murdoch?”

Murdoch shook his head.  “No, you didn’t.”

Joe couldn’t hold back now.  The truth was coming out…all of it. 

“Twenty years of ‘Joe, take care of it’… ‘Joe, go out and get yourself killed but don’t get no blood on the streets’ … and then no pension, nothing, just a warm handshake, a fistful of debts and a ‘Goodbye Joe, old buddy’…”

The Joe Barker Murdoch knew dissolved in front of his eyes. 

“If you owed money…all you had to do was ask—”

Joe’s anger flared.  “I don’t wanta have to ask!  I’ve been askin’ all my life!”   Just as quickly, the man reclaimed his emotions.  “Look, Murdoch, twenty years ago, we started together.  Now we could finish together just as if nothing else had happened.  It doesn’t have to be as partners…it could be any way you want it… just come back with me now.”

Murdoch’s heart broke for his friend, but his love for his son was overwhelming.  “It wouldn’t work.  Not without Johnny.”

“It would work!  I swear to you that together, we could make it work.”  Joe’s voice softened, “You know me, Murdoch…”

Murdoch looked at his friend, pointing a gun at him and then at Joe’s face.  He studied it for a moment and then shook his head, “Do I, Joe?”

Without another word, Murdoch started up the steep incline again.  His back was to Joe when he heard him call out, “Murdoch!  Don’t do it… don’t go up there.”  When Murdoch continued walking up the incline, Joe screamed, “Don’t go up there!”

Within seconds, a gunshot made Murdoch turn.  Joe’s rifle was pointed toward the crest of the rocks, and Al Evan’s body was falling.

Frank left Scott’s side and hurried over.  “Mr. Lancer…”

“I’m alright, Frank.  Stay with Scott.”

Frank looked from Murdoch and Joe, then reluctantly backstepped before turning and walking back to where Scott lay.

“Why, Joe?  Why did you do it?”

Barker looked confused.  “Why did I do what?”  He looked to where Evans’s body fell.  “Why did I kill Evans?  To save your life.”

Murdoch nodded.  “Thank you for that.  Now, tell me why you let Evans go and tried to frame Johnny?”

Murdoch could see Joe trying to find a way to explain himself, but the words of denial were slow to come.  He had always trusted Joe, but now he wasn’t sure what to believe.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Joe spoke again. “I needed the money.  Evans offered me five thousand dollars to help him escape and get to Mexico.  No one was supposed to get hurt.  Gibbs walked in on us when I was telling Evans where to hide until I could get to him.  Evans grabbed my gun and shot Gibbs, but not before Gibbs got off a shot and hit Evans in the leg.  I told Evans to get a horse and get away.  How was I supposed to know anyone heard the shots?  They were all at the party.”

“Everyone except Johnny.”  

“Yeah, everyone except Johnny.  He came storming in and saw Gibbs.  I hit him over the head… but I didn’t know it was Johnny at the time.  I didn’t know…”

“So, you went back to the party as if nothing happened and left him to take the blame?”

Joe nodded.  “Don’t you understand?  Thompkins was never supposed to find Johnny and Gibbs.  It was me.  I saw Thompkins leave the party, and I was going after him.  I figured if we both came in and found Johnny unconscious, we could blame it on someone else, but that’s not what happened.  Teresa snagged me into a dance, so I wasn’t with Thompkins. Johnny must have come to and was standing over Gibbs when Thompkins walked in.”

Murdoch’s face turned red, and the veins in his neck bulged. “And you would have let my son hang?”

“No… no, Murdo, you’ve got to believe me.  I wouldn’t have let that happen.  Somehow, I would have gotten Johnny away from Thompkins.”  Barker lowered his head, and his shoulders slumped.  “Why couldn’t Johnny just have taken you up on your offer to let him go?  You know as well as I do Madrid …would have hung if they got him to Sacramento.”

“Lancer.”

“What?”

“Joe, Johnny Lancer…my son… Damn it, Joe, don’t you see he believed in me and I believed in you.  John doesn’t trust easily.  He put his trust in me and my faith in the law… in you.  I was so sure you would find Evans and clear his name.”

Joe looked at his friend.  “Well, you were right, Murdo.  I found Evans, and Johnny’s name will be cleared.”

“But at what cost, Joe?”

“Don’t matter.  Your boy won’t hang for something he didn’t do.”

Murdoch sighed.  “We’d better get Scott home.”

---

Murdoch walked past Joe to where Frank was waiting for him.  He looked down at Scott and smiled.  His oldest son’s blue eyes were open and looking up at him.  Kneeling, he put a hand on Scott’s chest.   “How do you feel?”

“My shoulder hurts,” he winced.  “Now that you ask, everything hurts.”  Scott looked past Murdoch to see Barker standing behind him.  “Evans?”

“Dead.”

Scott’s eyes widened.  “But if Evans is dead, how…”

“Don’t worry, Scott,” Joe said. “Johnny’s in the clear. As soon as we get you home, I’ll make sure he’s out of the guardhouse myself.”

Murdoch looked at Frank.  “Help me get him on my horse.  He’ll ride in front of me.”

“I can ride…”

“No, Scott, you can’t.  We’ll get home quicker if you ride in front of me.”   Murdoch glanced back at the broken body at the foot of the rocks.  “We’ll send some hands out to get Evans’ body.”

With Frank’s help, Scott was quickly seated in front of Murdoch, and they were heading back to the ranch.

Murdoch had little time to think about Joe, riding slightly behind him as he held tightly to his oldest son.  When the arch was in sight, Murdoch turned his head.

“Frank, ride ahead and tell Maria and Teresa what’s happened, then send one of the men for Sam.”

“What about Johnny, Mr. Lancer?”

“I’ll get Johnny once we have Scott settled.  He’s going to be upset about his brother, and I want to be the one to tell him.”

Frank kicked his horse forward, understanding what his boss hadn’t put into words.  Knowing Johnny, the boy would explode once he heard what had happened to his brother.  He sure didn’t envy his boss the job.   

---

Murdoch slowly walked down the hacienda’s main staircase and looked around the Great Room.   Joe Barker stood at the drink cart, filling a glass with Scotch.

“Joe.”

Barker turned and looked at his ‘old friend.’   “Scott?”

“Settled in his room.  I think he’ll be alright once Sam sees him.”

Teresa hurried down the stairs and stopped abruptly when she caught sight of Barker.  She turned towards the kitchen and stopped.  Spinning around, the young woman glared at the Marshal.  “How could you?  How could you do this to Murdoch… to Johnny and Scott?” 

“Teresa—” Murdoch started.

“No!  No, Murdoch, don’t you dare stand there and defend him.  Mr. Gibbs is dead, Scott is lying up there with a bullet wound on his shoulder, and Johnny…” She paused long enough to look toward the French doors.  “Where is Johnny?  Don’t tell me he’s still in the guardhouse…” Teresa pointed toward the doors.  “You go out there right this moment and get him out of there.”

Murdoch smiled.  “Yes, ma’am.”

Teresa looked at Barker, her eyes narrowing.  “And take him with you.  I’m sure that’s where Mr. Thompkins will want him.”

“Miss Teresa…” Barker sighed.  “I’m sorry.  I truly am.  I never intended for any of this to happen.”

Teresa pivoted and stalked towards the kitchen, leaving the two men staring at her back.

Barker downed his drink and set the glass on the drink cart.  “I’m ready, Murdo.  It’s time we got that boy of yours out of there.”

“Yes, it is Joe.  High time.”

The sound of horses entering the yard resounded through the Great Room.

“That will be Thompkins with the posse.  I’d better go out and tell him what’s happening.” Joe walked toward the doors.

The dust of the arriving horses settled as Murdoch and Joe walked outside. 

Thompkins stepped down from his horse and looped the reins over the hitching rail.  “Nothing.  We couldn’t pick up a trail.”

“You can stop looking,” Murdoch said.  “We found Evans.”

Thompkins pushed his hat back from his forehead and looked towards the guardhouse.  “You have him locked up?”

“No,” Joe replied.  “Evans is dead.”

“Dead?  Who killed him?”

“Joe shot him before he could put a bullet in me.  Evans had already shot Scott.”

“Scott…is he alright?”

Murdoch nodded.  “He will be.  I was just going to the guardhouse to let Johnny out.”

“Let him out!  What—”

Barker held up his hand, stopping Thompkins mid-sentence.  “Yes, let him out.  Johnny didn’t have anything to do with Evans’s breakout or Gibbs’s death.”

“Since Evans is dead, how do we know that?”

“Because it was me.”

The expression on Thompkins’s face froze.  “You?”

“That’s right.” Joe heaved a sigh and looked down at his boots.

Thompkins looked between Barker and Murdoch.  “Why?”

When Barker didn’t speak up right away, Murdoch prompted, “Joe.”

“Alright, Murdo, I’ll tell him.” Barker looked at Thompkins.  “Evans was going to give me five thousand dollars to help him get to Mexico.” 

“Who killed Gibbs?” Thompkins snapped.

“Evans,” Joe answered without hesitation.  For the next few minutes, Joe repeated his story for Thompkins.  Finally, he stopped and shook his head.  “No one was supposed to get hurt.  If Gibbs hadn’t come back….”

“But he did,” Thompkins snarled.  “So that’s how the Lancer kid got caught up in this.”

“Yes.” Joe turned to look at Murdoch.  “I swear, Murdo, I didn’t know it was Johnny until after I hit him.”

“So, you just went back to the dance and left me to find your mess?” Thompkins barked.

“You weren’t supposed to find them.  It was me…,” Joe looked away and shook his head. “But, I got held up.”

“Thompkins,” Murdoch jumped in, “I want my son released.  I want him out now.” 

The deputy nodded.  “Alright.”  He looked at Joe.  “That means you’re taking his place, Barker.  We’ll leave for Sacramento in the morning.”

*****

Ranch hands and vaqueros watched as Murdoch led the way to the guardhouse with Joe on his right and slightly behind him.  Thompkins was at Joe’s elbow, with his hand on his gun butt, as if expecting the old lawman to bolt.   

Murdoch pushed the thick wooden door open and stood aside to let Joe and Thompkins step inside.  Ducking under the door frame, he closed the door behind him.

Cipriano was sitting at the round table in the middle of the room when the door opened, and the three men stepped inside.  On seeing Murdoch, he stood and cocked his head.  “Patron?”

Murdoch didn’t waste time.  “Open the door.”                                                                                                                

Cipriano smiled as he hurriedly grabbed the keys from the table and walked to the cell.

The moment the key turned, Johnny was at the door, unsure what was happening. “Murdoch?”

Murdoch paused, unsure of how to tell Johnny about his brother.  “Everything’s alright.  You’re free.”

“Evans?”

“I’ll tell you all about it later.  Right now, Scott needs you.  He’s…hurt.”

Panic filled Johnny’s voice, “Is he—?”

“No…no, nothing like that.  He’ll be alright, but I think he’d like to see you.”

Johnny looked from Murdoch to Barker and then to Thompkins.  “What’s going on?”

“I said—”

“I know what you said.  I want the truth.”

“And you’ll have it.  Now, go on.”

Johnny walked out of the guardhouse into bright sunlight.  He took three steps and stopped.  Blinking, he saw the yard was full of men.  Looking around, it appeared that almost all the men who worked at Lancer were staring at him.   There was a combination of smiles and bowed heads.  He was near the front of the house when Frank walked through the front door.

“Frank?”

“Scott’s in his room.  You’d best go on up.”

“How bad?”

“Not sure, but I don’t think it’s too bad a wound.  He took a tumble when he came off his horse.”

“Wound?  Off his horse?  Frank, what happened?”

“Mr. Lancer said he’d tell you everything.” 

“But…”

“I’m sorry, Johnny.  You’ll have to ask Mr. Lancer.”

Johnny pushed past Frank.  He didn’t like being kept in the dark.  All he knew so far was Scott had been shot off his horse.  Where the hell was Evans?

Taking the main stairs two at a time, Johnny headed down the hall to Scott’s room.  As he started inside, he ran headlong into Maria.  The woman shook her head and mumbled something Johnny couldn’t hear as she shoved him aside.  Stepping inside the room, he found Teresa leaning over the bed.  Still dressed in dust-covered clothes, Scott was stretched out on top of the covers.

“Teresa…”

Teresa looked up from what she was doing and smiled.  “Oh, good.  Thank heaven they let you out.  Come over here and help me.”

Johnny crossed the room in two long strides.   “What…?” he started and stopped when he got a good look at his brother.  Blood covered the right shoulder of his tan shirt, and a large purple bruise stood out on his forehead.

“Frank said he took a tumble.”

“Oh, Johnny, it was more than a tumble.  Evans shot him.”

“Evans….?  Will Scott….?”  Johnny started and stopped when Maria entered the room. 

Maria sat a bowl of hot water on the nightstand next to Scott’s bed. “Juanito, the Patron wishes to see you downstairs.  He is very upset.”

“I’ll go down as soon as I find out how Scott’s doing.”  He looked at the woman, knowing there was something she wasn’t saying.  “Do you know what’s going on?”

Maria shook her head and headed for the door. 

Once Maria was gone, Johnny turned to Teresa, knowing the girl would tell him what neither Murdoch nor Maria hadn’t.  “Teresa, what’s going on?”

Teresa shook her head.  “I can’t.  You’ll have to talk to Murdoch.”

“Is Scott going to be alright?”

Teresa started to answer when the sound of Scott’s voice startled them both.  “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

Johnny grinned.  “Hey there.”

“I see they let you out of the guardhouse.”  Scott’s voice cracked.  

“Yeah,” Johnny nodded.  “I see you couldn’t stay out of trouble for even a day.”

Scott winced.  “Well, you know me.  I like to try to keep up with my little brother.”

“So, what happened out there?”

Teresa shook her head.  “Johnny, go downstairs and talk to Murdoch.  I need to take care of Scott, and he needs to rest.”

“But—”

“Go… down … stairs.”  She stood and pushed him out the door, closing it as soon as Johnny was in the hall.

Johnny stood outside Scott’s door a few moments before turning to have that talk with his father.

Once Johnny was gone, Teresa was back at Scott’s side.  “Scott, I’m so glad you’re alright.  I was worried when you rode off by yourself.  Then Murdoch left with Mr. Barker and Frank.”

“I’m alright.   What’s happening?”

“Oh, Scott, it’s awful.  Mr. Barker had something to do with Mr. Gibbs being shot and Evans’s escape.   All the worry and pain is because of Murdoch’s friend.”

“Barker?  Where is he?” 

“The guardhouse.  They locked Mr. Barker up when they let Johnny out.”

“Does Johnny know?”

“Murdoch is supposed to be telling him now.”  She placed a hand on his forehead and frowned.  “You’re starting a fever.  I’d better get Murdoch.”

Scott grabbed her hand.  “No. Wait a few minutes.  Let them talk.”

---

Stepping into the great room, Johnny saw Murdoch standing in front of the fireplace with a sizable drink in his hand.

Johnny crossed to the drink cart and poured a large glass of tequila.  He took a deep breath and then turned to look at Murdoch.  “Alright, start talking.  What the hell is going on?”

Murdoch’s brow furrowed, and the vein on the side of his neck turned blue and bulged.  “I don’t appreciate that tone.”

“It’s the only ‘tone’ you’re gonna get until I have some answers.”  Johnny downed his drink and started to pour another.  Thinking better of it, he stopped and waited.

“Sit down, John.”

“I think I’ll stand.”

Murdoch sighed and sipped his drink.  His eyes wandered to the hallway and found some comfort in knowing Johnny’s gun was hanging on the hat tree near the front door.

“Evans is dead.”

Johnny’s eyes widened, and his head fell.  “Dead.  Who shot him?  How are we going to prove I didn’t kill Gibbs?”

“You don’t have to.  The truth came out after Evans died.  Thompkins knows you had nothing to do with Evans’s escape or Gibbs’s death.”

Johnny cocked his head.  “Then who did?”

Murdoch took another swallow, this time a large one.

“Quite stalling, old man.” Murdoch straightened his shoulders, but before he could answer, Johnny spoke again, “It was Barker, wasn’t it?”  

“Yes, I’m sorry to say it was Joe.”

“I’m waiting…”

“You were right about Joe.  I suppose I didn’t know him as well as I thought.  This was his last job.  He needed money, and when he found out the partnership with me wasn’t going to happen… well, he let Evans talk him into helping him.”

“How much?”

Murdoch paused.  “How much…what?”

“How much did Evans offer Barker?”

“Five thousand dollars.  Joe was to help Evans break out and get away.”

 “And what about me?”

“You were…in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Joe didn’t even realize it was you until after he knocked you out.”

A slight smile passed over Johnny’s lips.  “And your old friend was going to let it stand?  Let me take the fall for what he did?”

“No!” Murdoch barked.  “No.  Joe would never have let it go that far.”

“Face it, Murdoch, Barker was willing to let me face a noose—”

“Murdoch!” Teresa yelled, cutting Johnny’s sentence short.  

Father and son ran toward the stairs.  Teresa stood at the top, wiping her hands on an apron. 

“What’s wrong?  Is Scott alright?”

“You’d better come take a look.  Scott has a fever starting.”

Murdoch turned to look at Johnny.  “I need you to calm down.  We’ll finish this conversation after I see to your brother.”

“Calm down?  Mierda, you can say that after what Barker did.”  Johnny pointed upstairs.  “My brother…your son… is up there with a bullet wound in his shoulder, a concussion, and lord knows what else, and you tell me to calm down.”   Johnny turned away and began pacing, his right hand tapping his thigh and his left fingers flexing. 

“John…”

Finally stopping, Johnny shook his head.  “Where’s Barker now?”

“Murdoch, are you coming?” Teresa’s persistent voice spread across the great room.

“Joe’s in the guardhouse.” Murdoch turned to go.  Looking over his shoulder, he thought he saw something in Johnny’s eyes.  He stopped and squared his shoulders.  “I don’t want you going out there.    You stay here until I come back down.”  When Johnny didn’t answer, he added, “Understood?”

Johnny nodded.  “I understand.”

While Murdoch hurried upstairs, Johnny looked toward the French doors.  A smile spread across his lips, and his eyes narrowed.  “Yeah, I understand exactly what you’re saying.” 

Striding across the room to the front door, Johnny lifted his rig from the hat tree and strapped it on.  He tightened it down and lifted the Colt, checking to make sure it was loaded.  One last look toward the stairs, he opened the door and stepped outside, pausing only long enough to ensure no one was going to stop him.

---

Entering Scott’s room, Murdoch went to the bed and placed his large, calloused hand on his son’s forehead.  “He does have a fever, but it’s to be expected.  Sam should be here soon.”

“Should I get him some tea?”

Scott moaned, “Oh, please don’t.”

Murdoch smiled.  “I think that’s a wonderful idea.  It will help with the fever and the blood loss.”

Scott couldn’t help but ask, “Have you told Johnny about Barker?”

“I just did.”

“How did he take it?”

“Not well.  I’d better get back down there and make sure your brother doesn’t do something he’ll regret.”

A few minutes later, Murdoch came back down to find Johnny gone.  His eyes went to the hat tree near the front door, and his heart skipped a beat.  Johnny’s rig was gone, and the front door was open.

Murdoch hurried to the door in time to see his youngest son striding across the yard, his right hand resting on the butt of his Colt. 

“Johnny!”

When the boy didn’t stop.  Murdoch almost ran to catch up with him.  Reaching Johnny just before he got to the guardhouse door, he grabbed his son’s right arm and swung him around. 

“Don’t!” Johnny pulled his arm away.  “Don’t ever grab me again.”

“I wouldn’t have this time if you’d have listened to me.  I told you to stay away from Joe.” 

“I know what you said, old man, but I haven’t had my say.  You can’t keep me from facing Barker.  No one can keep me from facing him.”

Murdoch pulled himself to his full six foot six inches and looked into his son’s blue eyes.  He could see the anger blazing there.

“And what will you do when you do face him?” Murdoch glanced at the Colt on his son’s hip.  “Use that?  You and I both know you’re not going to shoot him…not in cold blood.  If I know anything, I know that much about you.  You’re not a murderer.”

“You don’t know anything about me!  You don’t know what I’m capable of doing.”

“Joe’s behind bars now.  You’re not a murderer, Johnny.  We’ve already established that.  So, what are you going to do?”

“Do?  Hell, old man, I might just put the fear of God in him.  He came here for something he ain’t never gonna get.”

“He knows that.” Murdoch’s voice rose and his face turned red. “What good would it do to go in there?” Hoping he was making progress, he reached out and put a hand on Johnny’s shoulder.  He lowered his voice, “John, go back inside.”  

Johnny’s chest heaved, and he shook his head.  “I….”

“I know, son.  I know.  It’s hard, but right now, you need to let it rest.  Take a breath and let it rest.”

“Alright, I’ll go inside, but this isn’t over—not by a long shot.”

Murdoch watched Johnny walk back to the house.   No, it wasn’t over, and it wouldn’t be until Joe was gone.  Then, maybe he could find a way to fix his family.

---

When Teresa and Scott heard Murdoch yell Johnny’s name, Scott pushed up on his good arm.  “Teresa, go see what’s happening.”

Teresa ran out of the room and down the hall.    In less than a minute, she was back.

“What….?”

“Oh, Scott, Johnny’s gone after Mr. Barker.  Murdoch’s gone to stop him.”

“Stop him?  Stop him from what?”

Teresa shook her head.  “Johnny’s taken his gun.”

Scott threw back the covers and swung his legs off the bed.  “Get my pants.”

“No.  Scott, you need to stay—”

“Help me get dressed.  I’m not going to lay here and let my brother do something that will get him hung.”

“But…”

“Teresa, get … me…my … pants.”

With Teresa’s help, Scott had his pants on and was sliding his feet into his boots when they heard footsteps in the hall.   Moments later, relief swept over them both as they saw Johnny in the doorway.

“Going somewhere, brother?” Johnny walked across the room and took Scott’s arm, helping him sit on the side of the bed.

“I was coming to your aid.”

Johnny laughed and shook his head.  “Again?”

Scott smiled.  “Yes, again.”

“Thanks, but I didn’t need your help this time.”

“What happened?”

Johnny sighed.  “Murdoch happened.  He caught up with me before I could get to Barker.  Made a damn good case of me not…” Johnny’s words trailed off.

Scott slowly nodded.  “What would you have done if you’d gotten to him?”

“If you’d asked me that fifteen minutes ago, I’d said I’d have put a bullet between his eyes for what he did to you.”

Scott turned to look at his brother.  “Me?  What about you?  Barker framed you for a murder and was willing to watch you hang for it.”

“Trust me, Scott.  There was no way I would have hung.”

“That’s right.  Murdoch would never have allowed it.  I would never have allowed it.”

“You think so?”

Scott put his good arm around Johnny’s shoulders.  “I know it.  We almost lost you a few weeks ago when you left with Wes.  There was no way we were going to lose you again.”

Johnny took a deep breath and nodded. “You know, Boston, I figured out a long time ago that talk comes cheap.  It’s what a man does that counts.”

“I believe you are referring to the phrase ‘actions speak louder than words,’ which implies that a person’s actions reveal their true intentions more accurately than their words.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Johnny dipped his head.  “So, what do you think the old man would have done?”

“Whatever it took,” Scott spoke with conviction, his tone conveying a sense of unwavering determination.  Johnny turned his head to face him. Scott smiled and squeezed his brother’s shoulder.  “That’s right.  He would have done whatever it took, and you can believe I would have, too.”  

---

As Joe sat in the small and dimly lit cell of the guardhouse, he couldn’t help but replay the events of the previous day in his mind. The silence around him was only interrupted by the sound of his own breathing and the occasional distant echo of Thompkins’s footsteps in the guard room. As he reflected on his actions, he couldn’t shake off the feeling of shame and guilt that weighed heavily on his chest. He knew that what he had done was wrong, and the thought of it kept haunting him.

Joe Barker had betrayed his badge, his best friend, and his best friend’s son…sons.    How had things gotten to this?

That afternoon’s walk across the yard from the hacienda to the guardhouse took only a few minutes but seemed like hours.   He knew Thompkins was on his right, and a quick glance in the deputy’s direction confirmed his suspicions; Thompkins had his hand resting on his gun.  The closer they got to the old adobe building, the faster Joe’s heart pounded in his chest. 

He was man enough to take what the courts had in store for him, but he wasn’t ready to face the cell’s last occupant when the time came.  

When the outside door opened, Joe shook himself from his musings. 

He heard Teresa’s voice, “I’ve brought Mr. Barker his dinner.”

Joe didn’t hear what Thompkins said, but the cell door opened, and light from the guard room spilled in.

Teresa walked into the cell, holding a tray.  Joe smiled at her and motioned to a place on the bunk, noticing she didn’t return the smile.  “You can sit it there, Miss Teresa.”

Teresa sat the tray down but didn’t leave.  Joe looked at the young girl’s face and knew she had a question.

“Mr. Barker, why…why did you do it?”

Joe shook his head.  “I’ve been sitting here asking myself the same thing.”

“Murdoch is your friend…”

“I know.”

With tears in her eyes, Teresa took a breath, “Would you have let Johnny —”

“No,” Joe cut her off.  “Believe me, I would never have let Johnny hang.  I tried to get Murdoch to let him go, but he wouldn’t.  I even begged him to let the boy go.  I would have made sure he never made it to Sacramento…one way or another, Johnny would never have hung.” 

Teresa looked at him for a long moment.  “I believe you.  I’m just sorry Murdoch has lost a good friend, and right now, he’s hurting.”

“Hurting?”

“Yes.  He’s torn between his friendship with you and the feelings he has for his sons.  You know you’ve hurt everyone in my family.”

“I’m sorry.  That’s not why I came here.”

“I know why you came.  I overheard Murdoch and the boys talking.”

“About what?”

“About the letter Murdoch wrote you last year, offering you a partnership.  You knew the moment you met Johnny and Scott that wasn’t possible, didn’t you?”

“I knew…still, I’d hoped…”

“Yes, Mr. Barker, I’m sure you more than hoped.”  Teresa turned and walked out the door.  Once in the guardroom, she looked over her shoulder. “Eat your dinner, Mr. Barker.  I’ll bring you breakfast in the morning.”  Then, looking at Thompkins.  “You’re leaving in the morning?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Thompkins nodded.

“I’ll bring your breakfast also.”

“Thank you, Miss Teresa,” Thompkins nodded. 

“I’ll see you in the morning, Mr. Thompkins.”   

*****

Joe didn’t sleep much that night.  He knew what lay ahead and figured he’d have plenty of time for sleep…later.

He spent his night thinking about all that had happened.  He went through so many ‘what ifs’ his head was spinning.

Twenty years, and now it was gone; everything was gone.  If only he’d taken Murdoch up on the partnership offer last year.  He’d thrown away twenty-plus years of upholding the law and ended up looking forward to nothing but a hangman’s noose.

When the cell door opened, Joe was relieved. 

“Barker, your breakfast is waiting.” Thompkins motioned him out of the cell. 

Teresa was placing a plate of ham and eggs on the table.   Joe sat down and picked up a fork.  Although he wasn’t really hungry, he knew he would need the strength to get through the next few days.  Teresa poured a cup of coffee and handed it to him.  As he reached for it, the cup tipped, and coffee spilled down the front of his shirt.

Joe jumped to his feet, the fork clattering to the floor.

“Oh, Mr. Barker, I’m so sorry.” Teresa grabbed the napkin off the table and started dabbing the front of his shirt.

“It’s alright…” Joe took the napkin and finished wiping his shirt and pants.

“I found one of your shirts in your room yesterday.  Maria washed it.  I’ll get it, and you can change out of that wet one.”

“It’s alright, Miss Teresa.  It’ll dry.”  He sat back down.

“No…no, I insist.  I’ll be right back.” 

Thompkins laughed as she hurried out the door.  “What’d you know, Barker?  She did your laundry.  Looks like you were closer than you thought in getting a piece of this place.”

Joe ignored the remark and started eating his now cold breakfast.  A few minutes later, Teresa was back with his spare white shirt. 

“Here, Mr. Barker.” She handed the shirt to him.  “You should change now.”

Joe took the shirt and looked back at the cell.  Thompkins nodded his approval, and Joe went inside to change.  Pulling off his vest and soiled shirt, he held the clean one to his nose and inhaled.  It smelled like sunshine, fresh air, and a hint of lavender.  He could have gotten used to being treated like someone, of having clean sheets every night and clean clothes he didn’t have to wash himself.

“Hurry up, Barker.  We ain’t got all day.”

Joe slipped his vest back on and picked up the soiled shirt.  Walking out of the cell, he looked around for his saddlebags and then remembered he’d left them in his room in the house.

Thompkins held handcuffs in his hand and a smirk on his face.  “Hold out your hands.”

Joe held his hands out in front of him.  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“What’d you think?  The great Joe Barker, in handcuffs, on his way to a hangman’s noose.”

Thompkins took Joe’s arm and led him outside into the sunlight, where two horses were saddled and waiting.   Joe saw his saddlebags already on his horse and felt relieved.  Everything he owned was in them.

Across the yard, he saw Murdoch standing in front of the hacienda.  To his left were Johnny and Teresa.  He hadn’t faced Johnny yet and wondered what the younger man’s reaction would be when he saw him.

Mounting, Thompkins edged his horse closer to Joe’s.  “Let’s get this over with.”

They rode to the front portico in time to see Scott walk out the front door, his right arm in a sling.

Stopping, Joe looked down at his friend.  “Murdoch…”

Murdoch couldn’t help but feel it was such a waste.  He’d looked up Joe Barker as a friend and mentor for more than twenty years.  “Joe, I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be, Murdo.  It was all my doing.”  Joe looked down at his cuffed hands.  “Twenty years,” he shook his head.  “Twenty years, and I finally know how it feels.” He held his handcuffed hand up.  “You know, there are plenty of people who would have paid a lot of money to see me this way.”  The man laughed briefly before looking back up. 

Thompkins edged his horse forward.  “Joe…”

Barker nodded and then looked back at Murdoch.  “Just think, Murdo, if I’d answered your letter, everything would have been different and never would have wound up this way.”

Murdoch looked away, finding it hard to look at his friend. “Sure, Joe.”

Joe sighed.  “Why am I kidding myself?  It would’ve happened.  One way or another, it would have happened.”

Scott was watching his father.  Barker’s words seemed to shake Murdoch.  After a brief pause, Murdoch got a grip on himself.  He looked up.  “Well, I’ll go to Sacramento.  We’ll do everything we can.”

Scott glanced at his brother and Teresa.  He could tell Murdoch’s words had affected them, especially Johnny.  To tell the truth, they bothered him as well.

Joe smiled.   “Sure, Murdo.  Sure.  You, er, write me a letter some time, huh?”

Thompkins interrupted.  “Joe.” 

With a nod, Joe kicked his horse.  As they rode towards the Lancer arch, he looked back.  Murdoch, Scott, and Teresa had turned and were walking inside the house.  Johnny was still there… still watching.  A slight chill ran up his spine at the thought of what the young man would have done had he had the opportunity.  

---

Murdoch looked lost but took a deep breath.  Johnny hopped down from the wall, his spurs breaking the silence.

Scott walked forward to stand by Murdoch.  “How do you figure that?  A man devotes his entire life to law, and one day he smashes everything.”

Murdoch chewed on his lip and shook his head.  “Maybe it doesn’t happen that fast, Scott.  When a man’s alone, when he’s got nothing, there’s probably no one to have faith in him.  Maybe then he loses faith in himself.”

Scott glanced at his father and sighed.  Things could have gone very wrong.   Barker may have lost faith in himself, but the man had almost cost the lives of both of Murdoch’s sons.

Murdoch led the way back into the house with Teresa behind him.  Scott was almost to the front door when he looked back to see Johnny still standing out front.  He knew his brother was watching Barker and Thompkins, making sure they were actually gone. 

Scott knew it wasn’t over.  Johnny had been too quiet since the confrontation with Murdoch outside the guardhouse the day before.  Now, he looked like he was distancing himself from the family as if he was still caught between Barker and Murdoch. 

“What are you thinking, little brother?”

May 2024

 To Conflicted 

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