Buried Treasures by SandySha

Word Count 7,439

Written for the Lancer Writers’ 20^th Anniversary Competition- Favorite Murdoch Story.
Thanks to my beta Doc (Terri Derr) and suggestions from Charlene.  All mistakes are mine.

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Fingers of lightning streaked the dark November sky, followed by a sharp crack and then the rumble of thunder.  Suddenly the skies opened, and a long-awaited rain pounded Lancer’s drought-stricken soil.  The rain was welcome, welcome to everyone except the man desperately trying to dig in the hacienda’s overgrown garden.

Another clap, and the garden lit up.  The silhouette of a man, his hair and clothes plastered to his body, stood out against the dark.   He held a whiskey bottle in one hand and a shovel in the other.   He raised the bottle to his lips and shouted something, only to have his words drowned out by the storm.

“Murdoch!” 

The man stared at the ground, where water pooled over a freshly filled hole. 

“Murdoch!”

He felt a hand on his arm and turned to see his friend’s face.  “Paul.”

“Murdoch, what in God’s name are you doing out here?”

Murdoch Lancer raised the bottle in a toast.  “I’m burying the past, Paul.  Join me for a drink.”

“The past?  What are you talking about?”

Murdoch staggered against his friend.  “Drink a toast with me, Paul.  I’ve buried the past…buried it so it can’t hurt me anymore.”

“You’re soaking wet, man.  Let’s get you inside and into some dry clothes.”

“But you haven’t had a drink.” The words were slurred and had a slight hint of a Scottish brogue.  “You have to celebrate with me.”

“We’ll celebrate inside.  Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Murdoch nodded and tossed the mud-covered shovel aside.

Paul looked around but saw no sign of where Murdoch had been digging.  It didn’t matter.  What did matter was getting the Patron of Lancer inside and to bed.  He’d find out tomorrow when his friend sobered up.

Paul helped Murdoch into the eerily quiet house and up the stairs.  “I didn’t know you were back.  When did you get in?”

Murdoch heaved a sigh and leaned onto Paul.  “Today.  I got back today.  I couldn’t find them, Paul.”  He choked back a sob, “I asked everywhere, but no one would tell me a damn thing.  It’s like they’ve disappeared off the face of the earth.”

Paul nodded, knowing it was true.  Since the night almost a year ago, when Maria Lancer packed up and walked out of the house with Johnny, there had been no word on their whereabouts.  Murdoch had searched the border towns, coming home only long enough to rest and check on the ranch.  Then he was gone again.  

“You’ll find them.”  Paul turned the handle on Murdoch’s bedroom door and kicked it open. 

“No.  She doesn’t want to be found.  I can’t do it anymore, can’t….”  Murdoch’s words faded as his chin fell to his chest.

Paul shifted the six-foot-five man to the bed and undressed him.  “We’ll talk in the morning.”

“No need …,” Murdoch mumbled as he fell back onto the bed.  “Done…the past … buried …” 

Paul shook his head.  1853 had been a hard year for his friend; for all of them.  While having Maria gone wasn’t much of a loss, losing the small boy was like a knife had sliced through their hearts.   

Paul pulled the covers over Murdoch and turned down the lamp.  He walked out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him.   Pausing in the hall, the Lancer’s Segundo wondered what Murdoch had been doing in the garden.  Burying the past, he’d said.   

“Paul?” Angel O’Brien slowly walked down the hall towards him.  “What’s happening?  Was that Murdoch I heard?”

“Angel, you shouldn’t be up.  Is everything alright with the baby?”

Angel rubbed her protruding belly and smiled.   “The baby’s fine.  Now, tell me.  Was that Murdoch?  When did he get home?”

“He said today.  I don’t know when, but long enough to finish a bottle of his best whiskey.  I found him in the garden, soaking wet and with a shovel in his hand.”

“What was he doing in the garden?”

Paul shook his head.  “I don’t know that either.  He said he was burying the past.”  Putting an arm around her shoulder, he guided her back toward their rooms in the hacienda’s west wing.

Angel stopped and looked up at her husband.  “Paul, he does know the past never stays buried, doesn’t he?”

Paul turned and looked back towards his friend’s door.   “I’m afraid you’re right.  I don’t know what he buried or even if he did, but the past never stays buried for long.”

********

Dressed in jeans, a tan work shirt, and the blue calico bonnet Maria made, Teresa hurried out the kitchen door.  Breakfast was over, and the men were sent to their work.  Once she and Maria had finished the dishes and the kitchen put to right, she set out to do something she’d already put off too long.

Teresa pulled on her tan work gloves and squinted into the clear November sky.    Taking a deep breath, she looked around the disheveled garden, sighed, and shook her head.  The old oak tree in the middle of the garden had turned bright yellow, and its leaves were starting to fall.  Around it, the dirt beds were filled with dried and withered flowers.  

Giving a sharp nod of determination, she picked up a hoe and started turning the soil in the flower beds.  The morning wore on, and she was pleased with her progress.  Another hour passed before she began picking up the dead and dying plants and tossing them into a bucket. 

She was attacking the last of the hard compacted soil near the large oak with a hoe when she hit something solid.  At first, she thought it was a rock but then decided she’d hit a tree root.  Pulling the hoe back, she reached out and, with a little more force, struck out.  Again, it hit something, but this time it sounded like metal.

On her hands and knees, Teresa began to dig.  The more she did, the more excited she became.  Knowing the history of the hacienda,  she conjured up images of lost treasure; thinking surely it was forgotten gold coins or jewelry from one of the Spanish Dons who had lived at the hacienda in years past.

Her eyes widened in anticipation when her fingers traced a square outline in the dirt.  Finally, she lifted a muddy, oilskin-wrapped box from the ground.   She removed her gloves and wiped the dirt and mud away, still unable to tell what exactly she’d found.   

Removing her bonnet, Teresa wrapped it around the box.  She looked to see if anyone was watching.  Seeing no one, she left the remains of the morning’s work and the gardening tools where they lay and hurried inside.

She swept passed Maria and up the back stairs to her room, leaving the older woman calling after her.

********

The grandfather clock struck four as Scott and Johnny walked through the front door.  They hung their hats and gunbelts on the hat tree in the entryway and walked into the great room. 

“Drink first,” Johnny was already heading for the drink cart, “or bath?”

Scott had started for the main staircase and stopped mid-step.  Smiling, he detoured, deciding a drink sounded like the better choice. 

Johnny handed a glass of  Scotch to his brother and poured a tequila for himself.  He had his drink to his lips when the sounds of banging pots and mutterings in Spanish came from the kitchen.

“I wonder what has Maria upset?” Scott’s eyes cut to Johnny as he sipped his drink.

“Don’t look at me.  I’m not going in there.”

“One of us needs to find out what’s wrong, and I don’t speak Spanish.  That leaves you.”

“Pffft.  I can teach you.”

“I’m sure you can, and I look forward to it.  However, brother, that won’t help right now.  So, go.” Scott motioned towards the kitchen. 

 Johnny gave a half-hearted shrug and downed his drink.  

“And make sure you calm her down before dinner, or there will be hell to pay when Murdoch gets home,” Scott added as Johnny headed for the kitchen. 

********

Johnny eased into the kitchen and stood quietly at the door for a few moments.  Maria was not in a good mood; that was obvious.  She lifted the lid from a pot, stirred the boiling contents, and then slammed the top back on.   With her back still to Johnny, she walked to the work counter and began kneading dough.  Occasionally, she’d fold the dough over and then pound it with a fist, muttering under her breath the entire time.

Cautiously, Johnny walked across the kitchen, coming up behind the woman who ruled the hacienda.  Just as he was going to put his arms around her, Maria turned.

“Mamacita, what’s the dough done to you?” He kissed her on the cheek.

She pushed him away and brushed her cheek, leaving a streak of flour on her tan skin.  “Juanito.  Gracias al Cielo, you are home.” 

“What’s wrong?  You mad at something?”

“No.  Not mad; worried.  Por favor, talk to the nina.”

 “The nina?  You mean Teresa?” Johnny looked around.  “Where is she?”

“In her room.” 

Johnny stepped back and glanced up toward Teresa’s room on the second floor.  “Is she sick?  Do we need to send for Sam?”

“No, not sick, but something…  Aye, she will not talk to me.  She was working in the garden, then ran through the kitchen and up the stairs.  I thought she had hurt herself.  I go and knock on her door, and she tells me she is alright, but she does not come out.”  Maria picked up the dish towel on the work table and wiped her hands.  “You go and see her.  Find out what is wrong.”

Johnny kissed her again and turned toward the back stairs.  His spurs rang as he took them two at a time.  Reaching the second floor in a matter of seconds, he walked down the hall only to see Scott coming from the other direction.

“Johnny?”

“Something’s wrong with Teresa.”

They reached Teresa’s door at the same time and gave each other a quick look; then Johnny rapped on the door once before throwing it open.

The door hit the dresser standing behind it and bounced back.

Sitting crossed-legged on the bed, Teresa squealed, “What…?”

“Maria says you’re sick.”

“Sick?  No, I’m not sick.”

“Then what are you doing up here?” Scott’s eyes went to the dirt-covered clothes she still wore.  “Are you starting a new fashion trend?”

Teresa looked down at her clothes and now dirty bedspread and shook her head.  “No.  I just forgot I had them on.”

Johnny laughed and looked at an empty metal box on the bed and a small wooden one lying open in front of Teresa.  “What’s that?”

“Come in,” Teresa waved them in, “Quickly, and close the door.”

Johnny stepped aside, letting Scott in, and then closed the door.

“Look what I found.”                                                              

Johnny sat on one side of the bed while Scott leaned over and picked an empty wooden box.  “What was in this?”

Teresa smiled and raised a fisted hand.  “Buried treasure.”  Turning her hand over, she opened it.  In her palm lay three rings.

********

“Where did you get those?” Johnny reached out and took one of the rings from Teresa’s hand.

 She pulled her legs closer to her body and shifted to allow Scott to sit.

“So, I was cleaning out the flower beds in the garden.  You know I’ve been putting it off for what seems like forever.”

Johnny smiled and glanced at Scott, who was trying to hide his own smile. 

“I was almost finished when my hoe hit this.”  She picked up the metal box.  “When I dug it up, it was wrapped in this oilskin.”  She picked up the wrapping lying beside the metal box.  “I couldn’t imagine where it came from.  At first, I thought maybe someone who had lived at the hacienda had buried gold coins and forgotten all about it.   I didn’t want anyone else to see it, so I brought it up here.”  She took a breath.   “This smaller wooden box was inside the metal box.”

“And the rings were in the wooden box?” Scott picked up a simple well-worn gold band with an intricate design.  “This one looks like it’s seen some wear.” 

“Where do you think they came from?”  Teresa put the last ring, made of gold and turquoise, on her finger.  “This one is obviously a man’s ring.”

“And this one is a woman’s.” Johnny fingered the thin gold band inlaid with turquoise and diamonds he’d picked up.  Glancing at Teresa, he said, “You know you have Maria in a pucker?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to upset her.  When I found the box, I… well, I just had to see what was inside.” She looked at the ring on her finger and the one Johnny held.  “These two match somewhat, don’t they?”  She held out her hand.

Johnny held the woman’s ring next to the ring Teresa showed him.  They were both gold with turquoise inlay.  The only difference was that the woman’s ring had small diamonds.

“They look …,” Johnny stopped and looked closer.  “I’ve seen something like them before.”

“You have?” Scott took the woman’s ring from Johnny and sat on the other side of the bed.

Johnny nodded.  “Turquoise and silver rings are common in Mexico, but gold and diamonds, that’s another thing.  Not many can afford them.”

Scott handed Johnny back the woman’s ring and reexamined the gold band.  “Well, I know whose ring this is or was.”

“You do?”  Teresa scooted forward.

Scott nodded and handed the ring to Johnny.  “Look at the engraving.”

“What is it?” Teresa persisted.  “Tell me.”

Johnny turned the worn gold band so he could see the initials inside.  He took a deep breath and raised his eyes to meet Scott’s. 

Impatient, Teresa reached out and snatched the ring from Johnny’s hand.  Squinting, she read aloud, “M.L.- C.G. Forever” She turned to look at Scott.  “Murdoch Lancer, Catherine Garrett…”

“It was his wedding band when he married my mother.” Scott took the ring back and sighed. 

“Then this must be his ring when he married my mother,” Johnny said, fingering the man’s gold and turquoise ring.  “And that one—”

Teresa handed him the woman’s ring.  Johnny laid them side by on the bed.

“It has to be your mother’s ring,” Teresa whispered.  “She must have left it behind when….”

Johnny nodded.  “When she left Murdoch and took me.”

“But how did they end up in a box in the garden?” Teresa asked.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Scott replied.  “He put them there.”

“But why?”     

“Simple.” Johnny scooped up the rings and handed them back to Teresa.  “Bury the rings, bury the past.” Standing, he took a deep breath and turned towards the door.  “I’m going to clean up for dinner.”  

“Johnny?” Teresa sprang off the bed and put a hand on his arm.  “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Johnny opened the door and stepped into the hall, closing the door behind him.

Teresa turned back to Scott and heaved a sigh.  “I should never have looked inside; never shown them to you and Johnny.”  She placed the rings back in the wooden box and closed it.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to put them back where I found them.”

“No.” Scott stood and took the box and rings from her.  “I think they’ve been buried long enough.  It’s time they saw the light of day.”

“What are you going to do with them?”

“Show them to Murdoch.  I think there’s more to the story than we think, and I want to know it.”

********

Sitting at the head of the dining room table, Murdoch looked at each of his children and waited for at least one of them to say something.   He’d come home in a good mood, ready to spend an enjoyable evening with his family.  So far, that wasn’t the case.  Finally, having enough of the silent treatment, he pushed back from the table.

“Maria, I’ll take my coffee in the great room.” Looking around the table, he asked, “Would the three of you care to join me?”

Without a word, Scott, Johnny, and Teresa followed.  Once seated, Maria handed coffee cups to everyone and went to clean the table.

Murdoch sipped his coffee and sighed, “Now, would one of you care to tell me what’s wrong?”

Johnny and Teresa turned their heads to Scott.  He saw that as the oldest, it would be his place to broach the subject.

“Murdoch…”Scott paused and looked at Johnny.

Murdoch saw Johnny and Teresa’s reluctance to talk.  “Scott, if you have something to say, please say it.”

“Yes, Sir.  Well… it’s just….” Scott sipped his coffee, stalling.  “Sir, when you married mother, did you wear a wedding ring?”

Caught off guard, Murdoch took a moment and looked down at his left hand and the finger that had been empty for almost two decades.   Slowly, he nodded.  “I did.”

“I suppose you took it off after —” Scott couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

“After she died?” Murdoch finished the sentence for him.

Scott nodded, then looked at Johnny and Teresa.  Before he could push for more, Murdoch spoke up, “Why do you ask?”

Scott looked at a nervous Teresa.  “Go ahead.” 

Murdoch shifted in his chair.  “Teresa?”

Teresa bit her lower lip. 

“It’s alright.  Show him,” Johnny encouraged.

“Show me what?” Murdoch moved to the edge of his chair.

Teresa stood and crossed the short distance between them.  She brought a small wooden box from behind her back and held it out.  “I found this.”

Murdoch’s breath caught.   Taking the box from Teresa’s hand, he stared at it for almost a full minute before opening it.  Inside lay the three golden rings.

********

“I haven’t seen these for….”  Murdoch felt his heart pounding.  Raising his eyes, he looked at Teresa.  “Where?  Where did you find—”

“The garden.”

Murdoch nodded.  “Yes, of course.”

“Why did you bury them?” Scott asked.

“I don’t really know now.  At the time, it seemed the right thing to do.  I’d lost two wives in four years and two sons I thought I’d never see again.  I’d just come back from another failed trip to Mexico searching for Johnny and his mother… I was tired and hurting.  I remember I got drunk one night and wanted the hurt to stop.  Burying them was my way of doing that.”

“I saw Ted Hankins in town the other day,” Scott said.  “I noticed he no longer wore his wedding ring.”

Murdoch studied his son.  “Anna Beth has been gone for almost two years now.  I suppose Ted felt it was time to take it off.”

“How long did you wear it after my mother?”

Murdoch looked at Johnny and saw his youngest son shift uncomfortably on the sofa.  Moving his eyes back to Scott, he wondered if he should answer.  Would his response be perceived to be a betrayal of Catherine?

“Sir, it would be unfair of me to expect you to have continued to wear it indefinitely.”

“Thank you for that,” Murdoch smiled.  He looked at the cup of coffee in his hand and sat it on the serving tray.  Standing, he walked to the drink cart.  “I refused to take it off for close to two years.  It was a part of me, just as your mother was.”  Murdoch poured a drink and looked at his sons.  “Drink?”

“No, Sir.  Not right now,” Scott answered, still sipping his coffee.

“Johnny?”

Johnny hesitated before nodding.  “Yeah, thanks.”

Murdoch poured a tequila, handed it to Johnny, and sat back down. 

“Now, where was I?”

“My mother’s ring….”

“Oh, yes,” Murdoch took a sip of whiskey and leaned back.  “I remember when Catherine and I went to the jewelry store in Boston to pick out our rings.  She insisted we go to Shreve, Crump, and Low on Newbury Street.” He looked at Scott, who nodded in recognition of the store’s name.  “I didn’t have much money.  Every penny I’d saved had gone into buying this land.  So, when we walked into the jewelry store, I didn’t know what to expect.”

Scott leaned forward, anxious for any information about his mother.  “Had you known mother long when you asked her to marry you?”

Murdoch leaned back in his chair and nodded.  “As a matter of fact, I met your mother on my second day in Boston and asked her to marry me three months later.  We courted for almost a year before we were married.”

Murdoch tipped his head back and closed his eyes.  Twenty-seven years had passed since that day in Boston, yet it was only yesterday in his heart.

********

The tall reddish blonde Scot hurried along the paved walkway of Newbury Street with a bounce in his step.  He couldn’t believe it had been less than a year since he’d arrived in America aboard the Duchess of Argyle.  In that short time, he’d met the love of his life, traveled to and from California, and bought the ranch he’d dreamed of all his life.  Now that he was back in Boston, he planned to marry and take his bride to a new home.

The sight of Catherine waiting for him put a smile on his face.

“Murdoch Lancer, I thought you’d never get here.”

 “This I wouldn’t miss for the world.” He put a discreet arm around her and pulled her close. 

“And here I thought you were getting cold feet.”

“Never.”

“All right then,” she heaved a sigh.  “Let’s go inside.”

Shoulder to shoulder, they looked through the etched glassed window of Boston’s finest jewelry store, Shreve, Crump, and Low.  The display of engagement and wedding rings was impressive.  So impressive, Murdoch swallowed hard, trying not to show his concern over the price.

A bell rang overhead as the store’s door opened, announcing the couple’s entrance. Murdoch allowed Catherine to enter and then followed.

Behind a long display case stood a young man who appeared to be in his early twenties.

“Good day, Miss.  Good day, Sir.  I’m Robert Low.  What can I help you with?” the dark-haired, brown-eyed man asked with a distinctive Bostonian accent.

Murdoch didn’t miss that the young man’s name was Low.  Obviously, one of the owners or at least related to them.

“Good day, Mr. Low,” Murdoch tipped his bowler hat and greeted the young man in a distinctive Scottish accent.  “I’m Murdoch Lancer, and this is my…” he paused.  It was the first time he introduced the lady as his future wife.  “My fiancée, Miss Garrett.

“Congratulations on your engagement.  I assume you’ve come to pick out your bands?”

“Yes…” Murdoch swallowed hard.  “Yes, we have.”

“Well then, come right this way.”  Mr. Low walked behind the glass counter and reached inside.  He removed a tray of elaborately decorated gold and diamond rings.  “Now, these are our finest wedding sets.”

Murdoch shifted uncomfortably next to Catherine.  All he could see in the display tray were dollar signs.  The rings the salesman showed them would cost more than the passage for the both of them back to California.  He’d already spent most of his funds buying the ranch and booking their return to Yerba Buena.

Catherine fingered what appeared to be the most expensive set Mr. Low showed them.  He loved her with all his heart and would pay any amount if this was what she wanted.

“Do you like them?” Murdoch smiled when Catherine’s eyes lit up.

“They are our best.” Low leaned forward across the display case.  “Only the best for Catherine Garrett.”

Murdoch looked at the man.  Of course, he knew who Catherine was.  Everyone in Boston knew Harlan Garrett and his family.  Now, he understood why the business owner showed them the store’s most expensive rings.  

Catherine put the rings back where she’d picked them up.  “They are lovely, Robert, but I think something slightly less expensive.”

Murdoch looked between the salesman and his intended. 

Catherine laughed.  “Robert and I have known each other since we were children and played together on the Common.”

 “I have to shake the hand of the man who has claimed Catherine’s heart.”  Robert Low extended his hand.  Then, turned to look at Catherine.  “Did you tell him I asked you to marry me, and you refused?”

Murdoch laughed.  “Do I have competition?”

“You do,” Low chuckled.  “I asked her, but she flatly refused.  She even slapped me when I kissed her.”

“It sounds as if you were being forward.”

“You have to understand I was infatuated and deeply in love.  I was devastated when she didn’t accept.”

“And now?”

Catherine laughed.  “Darling, there is only you, but I must admit Robert’s proposal was very persuasive.”

“How persuasive?” Murdoch’s brow furrowed.

“I offered her my heart and a bag of sugar drops.”  Robert laughed.  “She took the candy and slapped my face after I kissed her.   I took it to mean she didn’t want to marry me.”

“Sugar drops?”

“Yes.” Catherine smiled.  Realizing she had drawn the joke out long enough.  “Oh, Murdoch, I was six, and Robert seven, and he knew they were my favorite.”

“I see,” Murdoch relaxed his shoulders and laughed.  “You had me worried, Mr. Low.  I thought I still had a rival.”

“I’m sorry, Murdoch.  I shouldn’t have teased you.” She walked along the display case to a section containing lesser expensive jewelry.  “Robert, may I see that one.”  She pointed to a simple gold ring.

“Catherine?”

“How much is this one, Robert?”

Low shrugged.  “For you…” He glanced at Murdoch.  “Are you sure this is the one you want?  There are nicer—”

“I know there are more expensive rings, Robert.” She looked up at Murdoch.  “The money we save on my ring, we will invest in our future in California.”

Robert Low smiled.  “I know better than to argue with Catherine.  So, now, Mr. Lancer, which ring would you like?”

Murdoch started to examine the men’s rings when Catherine put a hand on his arm.  “We already have your ring, darling.”

“We do?”

“Didn’t you tell me you had your Grandfather’s wedding band?”

He’d sailed from Scotland with two precious objects: his Grand Da’s pocket watch and gold wedding band.  Murdoch remembered his Da standing next to him on the Inverness dock.  The man had held out his old, weathered hand and placed the two items in his son’s hand.  He could still hear his father’s Scottish brogue,  “ Son, th’ day wull come whin ye wull mairie, ‘n’ yer grand da wid have wanted ye tae have his ring.”
(Son, the day will come when you will marry, and your grandfather would want you to have his ring.)

“Aye, I do.”

“Then you’ll wear his ring.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, very sure.”  She turned to Robert.  “Can you inscribe it for us?”  

“Of course.  What would you like?”

Catherine smiled and took a deep breath.  “I think we’ll have them both inscribed.  In mine, it will have CG ML Forever.”   

Murdoch smiled.  “And in mine?”

“ML CG Forever, of course.    Is that alright with you?”

“Very alright.”

********

Murdoch looked around the room, his eyes falling on Scott.  “And that’s exactly what we did.”

Murdoch picked up the gold ring and turned it to see the inscription.  “I wore this ring, and Catherine wore the thin gold one she picked out.”

“Her ring….” Scott started.

Murdoch choked out, “Was buried with her.”

The room was silent for a long time.

“I didn’t take this ring off until two years after her death.” Murdoch’s eyes settled on Johnny.   “The same night I met your mother in Matamoros.”

“Why then?” Johnny snapped, then softened.  “I mean, why that night?  Is that when you knew…?”

“That I was in love with your mother?” Murdoch sighed.  “It didn’t take long.  She was beautiful and so different than anyone I’d ever met.  Being with Maria was like being in the middle of a whirlwind.  I don’t think my feet touched the ground the entire time we were together in Matamoros.”

“So you took off your wedding band so you wouldn’t feel you were betraying Catherine’s memory?” Johnny snapped again and started to get up.

Murdoch held out a hand.  “No, son, it wasn’t like that.  Not exactly.”

“How exactly was it?”

“I knew that night I couldn’t keep on the way I was going.  I’d been alone for two years.  It wasn’t fair to Maria to continue waving a reminder of my wi…former wife in front of her.”

Johnny eased back into his chair. 

Murdoch picked up the set of gold and turquoise rings and sighed.  His eyes fixed on the rings, and he was transported back to a time when his life was changed forever.  The words he said in a whisper were more to himself than to Johnny, “Nothing could have prepared me—”

***

Music filled the small Matamoros cantina as the two Americans elbowed their way through the crowded space to a table near the back of the room.  The taller man towered over everyone in the room, while the shorter, stocky man with dark hair seemed to blend into the sea of people.

“Murdo, are you sure about this?” Joe Barker yelled to be heard over the music and laughter.

Murdoch pulled out a chair and sat, stretching his long legs out under the table.  “I didn’t see anything better when we came through town.  Did you?”

Barker took the chair to Murdoch’s right so that his back was also to a wall.  As lawmen, both men had learned never to leave their backs exposed.    “Not really.”

Joe Barker, the Sheriff of Abilene, and his deputy, Murdoch Lancer, had tracked two bank robbers across half the state of Texas before catching up to them as they crossed the border at Brownsville.  It was unusual for lawmen to go to such extremes, and officially, they had no authority in Mexico, but unofficially, neither was turning back.  The thieves had killed three people in Abilene; a bank teller, a woman customer, and the woman’s five-year-old daughter, before riding out with $5,000 of the bank’s money.  

Now, the two bank robbers/murderers lay in Matamoros’ boot hill, and the money, or what was left of it, was in the money belt around Joe’s waist.

Murdoch watched as a young Mexican woman, looking to be around eighteen years old, jostled her way through the men in the room and walked toward their table.

“Senores.”

Murdoch struggled to stand and then took off his hat, dropping it on the table.  “Senorita.”

Joe looked at his friend and then up at the face of the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.  He could see what held Murdoch’s attention.

Smiling, she asked, “You wish a drink, Senor?” The woman’s dark eyes flicked between Murdoch and Joe, then came to rest on the fair-haired gringo.

Joe waited for Murdoch to speak, but it looked as if his friend was tongue-tied.  He grabbed Murdoch’s arm and pulled him back into his chair.  “Dos cerveza.”

“Bueno, Senor.”

The woman turned, and both men watched her hips sway as she walked away. 

“You’d better watch yourself with that one, Murdo.  I think you’ll be playing with fire.”

Murdoch chuckled.  “It might be worth it.”

Two beers turned into four and then six.   The two men talked, but Murdoch’s eyes never left the young woman, taking in every move she made.  As the night progressed, it appeared her talents included more than just serving.  The music changed, and the men encouraged her to dance.  Soon she was twirling around the floor, hands clapping over her head and her heels stomping.    The dance ended with one last spin and the woman coming to rest in Murdoch’s lap.

That was Barker’s cue.  He stood and stretched.  “I’m calling it a night, Murdo.  Are you coming?”  Barker smiled when Murdoch didn’t answer.  “Guess not.”

Murdoch barely noticed his friend’s departure.  All his attention was on the woman he still held on his lap.

“My name is Maria, Senor.  Your friend called you Mur- dough.”

Murdoch laughed.  “Mur do,” he hesitantly pronounced.  “It’s short for Murdoch.”

“Murdoch,” she repeated.  “That is a funny name.”

“It’s Scottish.”

“You are not an Americano?”

“I am now.”

She nodded.  Her eyes went to the gold ring on his left hand.  “You are married?”

Murdoch’s eyes followed hers.  “No,” he shook his head.  “My wife died two years ago.”

“Lo siento, Senor.”

“Call me Murdoch.”

“Very well, Murdoch.  Why do you come to Matamoros?”

“I’m a Deputy Sheriff from Abilene.  My friend and I have been tracking a couple of bank robbers.  We caught up with them this morning.”

“They are in la cárcel…jail?”

“No.”

“I understand,” she smiled.  “You will go back to Abilene now?”

“I’m not sure.  I have a ranch in California.”

“A ranchero?  Then why are you a sheriff?”

“I need money to keep the ranch going, and working for the law was a way of earning it.  Now, I think it’s time I went home.”

“But not tonight?”

Murdoch smiled.  “No, Senorita, not tonight.”

She slid off his lap and went back to work.

Murdoch stared at his ring and sighed.  It was time to let go, to move on.  It wasn’t fair to himself or anyone else to continue wearing the ring that reminded him daily of the woman he’d lost.  Slowly, he slid the gold band off his finger and put it in his shirt pocket.

********

Murdoch and Maria were inseparable for the next seven days, but the time came for him to leave.  Murdoch was torn as to what to do.  He’d fallen in love with the young woman.  As he and Joe Barker rode north to Abilene, he knew he’d be back to Matamoros someday soon.

That day came sooner than he’d expected.  As soon as he reached Abilene, Murdoch handed his badge to Joe and packed his belongings.   He’d only been away from Maria for three weeks, but every fiber of his being yelled for him to return to her.  Although he hurried back to the border, it still took him nearly two weeks.

Upon entering Matamoros, Murdoch went straight to the cantina expecting to find Maria working.  The cantina owner said she hadn’t been to work in several days.  Navigating the narrow streets of the town, he found Maria’s home. 

He knocked and waited.

 The door opened, and Maria looked at him with tears streaming down her cheeks.  One look at him, and she threw herself into his arms.   “Querido, you came back.”

Murdoch held her against his chest and ran his hand down her long dark hair.  “I’m here, Maria.  Don’t cry.”

“I did not think you would come back.”  She pushed away from him and wiped the tears from her face.  “Why have you come?”

“I want you to go to California with me.”

“As what?  Your mistress?”

“No.  As my wife.”

“Truly?”

“Truly,” he smiled down at her. 

“When do you wish to marry?”

“I was thinking when we got back to California, to Lancer.”

“The Padre at the mission can marry us.  We can marry now.”

“I don’t have a wedding ring for you.”

“It does not matter.”

“It does to me.   I want the perfect ring for both of us.”

“The ring can come later, Murdoch.” 

“All right.  If you want, we’ll get married here and have rings made in San Diego on the way home.”

She smiled, and the tears disappeared. 

***

Murdoch finished telling his story and looked around the room.  “We were married the next day at the Cathedral in Matamoras and started home to California the next day.”

“And the rings?” Johnny asked.

“When we got to San Diego, I found a silversmith who made them.  Maria knew what she wanted, turquoise and diamonds set in gold for hers and turquoise in gold for mine.”

“They’re beautiful.”

 Teresa’s comment caused Murdoch to nod.  “Yes, they are.”

“Why do you have both?”

Murdoch had been expecting Johnny’s question.  “Maria left her ring behind the night she left with you.  I found it on the nightstand beside our bed.”

Silence filled the room for several long minutes.

“Do you want me to put them back where I found them?” Teresa’s voice was quiet.

Murdoch held the three rings in his hand and thought for a long moment.  “No.  I think they’ve been buried long enough.  There was a time —”  He looked at his sons.  “Johnny, I’d like you to have the two rings made for Maria and myself.”  He held the gold and turquoise rings out to his youngest son.  “That is… if you want them.”

Johnny looked at his father’s extended hand and nodded. 

Murdoch placed the rings in the palm of Johnny’s hand.  “I hope the day will come when you find the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with.”

 “You think they’ll bring me better luck than you had?”

Murdoch laughed, “I certainly hope so.”

“Yeah, me too.” Johnny closed his hand around the rings.  “Thanks.”

Murdoch fingered the single gold band.  “Scott, as the oldest, I’d like you to have the ring passed down by my Grand Da.  I fear it will be too big for your hand, but….”

Scott nodded.  “If you’re sure, I’d be honored.”

“I’m sure.” 

After handing Scott the ring, Murdoch stood.

“Murdoch, the design on the ring is unusual.”

“It isn’t in Scotland.  It’s called a Celtic knot.  “

“It’s beautifully crafted,” Scott said as he examined the intertwining rope design on the ring.

“Aye, it is.  Your Grand Da made it himself.    Now, it’s been a long day, and I’m going to bed.”  

“Murdoch.” Johnny stood and opened the hand holding the rings.  “You never said why Mama wanted to get married right away instead of waiting until you got to California.”

Murdoch smiled and put a hand on his son’s shoulder, gently squeezing it.  “That, John, is a story for another time.”

***

Teresa, Scott, and Johnny waited until Murdoch disappeared up the front stairs before anyone spoke.  It was Teresa who broke the silence.  “I glad we showed him the rings.”

Scott nodded.  “Yes, I am also.  If nothing else, I believe the rings coming to light now were beneficial in helping heal some wounds that were still festering.”

Johnny frowned.  “You think he’ll ever answer my question?”

“Someday, little brother.  Someday, I hope he’ll answer all of our questions.”

“Yeah, for now, though, we’ve got the answer to one mystery.”  Johnny turned to Teresa.  “I’m sorry you didn’t dig up a treasure left behind by some Don who used to live here.”

“I’m not,” Teresa smiled.  “I think the treasure I found was worth more than anything some old Don could have left behind.”        

Epilogue:

Murdoch couldn’t sleep.  He’d tried, but the unexpected revelations of the evening kept him tossing and turning.    He had damn few good memories of those early days, and those he’d shared of his time with Catherine and Maria were some of the most precious. 

He smiled, thinking of other memories that made his heart sing; memories of Johnny.  Closing his eyes, he saw the moment the boy was born; taking his first breath; the ear-shattering cry that could be heard all the way to the bunkhouse; tottering around the great room on shakey legs and giggling as he looked at his Mama and Papa, proud of his accomplishment.

He sat up and shook his head, hoping to clear it.  After all these years… and it was Teresa, of all people—

He could still see the small girl with long brown hair playing in the garden, digging up every square inch of it with the small shovel Paul gave her.  As she had gotten older, she begged to plant flowers and then a small garden, and in all that time, not once had the box come to light.  But now, when it meant the most to him and to his sons there, it was.

He didn’t remember much about the night he’d tried to remove the pain from his life.  Paul said he was too drunk to stand, let alone dig.  The following day he couldn’t have told you where he’d buried the metal box containing the three small treasures, and he hadn’t looked for it in all the years that followed.

It seems once again his belief had come true; all things happen for a reason and in their own time. 

Giving up on sleep, Murdoch threw back the bed covers and sat on the side of the bed.  Air.  He needed some fresh air.  Maybe that would clear his head.

Finding his pants and boots, Murdoch headed for the door, snagging a shirt as he went.

The clock in the great room chimed three as he slipped down the back stairs.  He slipped his arms into the shirt, leaving it unbuttoned, and walked across the kitchen.  Opening the door, he stepped into the garden.

He hadn’t looked at the garden when he came home.  Now in the light of a full moon, he could see Teresa had stripped away the dead and dying growth, leaving a barren ground where long black shadows now danced.  

In the center of the walled garden, Murdoch caught movement near the oak tree.  At first, he thought it was only another shadow, but a shiver went up his spine when the shadow moved again.

Murdoch stepped closer to the tree when the moon flashed off something metal.    He relaxed only when he realized who it was kneeling in the dirt.

“Johnny?”

The dark figure stilled.

“Son?”

Johnny turned to look over his shoulder and, without a word, turned back to what he’d been doing when Murdoch first spotted him. 

Murdoch waited while the minutes passed.  Finally, Johnny stood and tossed the hand shovel aside.  Wiping his dirty hands on his pants, he turned and looked at Murdoch.

“John….?”

Johnny half turned to look back at the tree’s base and then at his father.  “I put it back where it belongs.”

At first, Murdoch didn’t understand, then… “Your mother’s ring?”

Johnny nodded.  “I hope you’re not mad, but the more I looked at it, the more it bothered me.  I kept seeing her taking it off and leaving it behind.  She threw it away just like she did everything else.”

Murdoch wondered if Johnny was referring to himself when he said ‘everything else.’

“Murdoch, she left the past behind; you buried it.   I ….” Johnny scuffed the ground with the toe of his boot.  “Well,… some things are better left buried.”

Murdoch put a hand on his son’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.  He could feel the boy tense and then relax under his touch.

“No, I’m not mad.  I gave you and your brother the rings, and it’s your decision what you do with them.”  He stared down at the freshly turned earth.  “And my ring?   Is it—?”

“No,” Johnny answered quickly.  “I… I couldn’t… you know…” He cocked his head towards the tree.  “The way I figure it, just like there are some things better left buried, there are some things better kept close.”

Johnny raised his left hand, and moonlight glinted off the ring on his middle finger.   “I hope you don’t mind.”

 “I don’t mind, and I’m glad you….” Murdoch swallowed the lump in his throat and took a deep breath.  “I’m glad you wanted to keep it.”

“It’s not the finger you’re supposed to wear it on, but it wouldn’t fit on the others.  You’ve got a big hand, old man.”

 “I know,” Murdoch laughed.  “The silversmith in San Diego had quite a time getting it to fit.” 

Johnny yawned, covering his mouth with a dirty hand.

“Tired?”

“Yeah.”

“It’ll be dawn soon.  What do you say we try to get some sleep?”

Johnny nodded.  “I think I can sleep now.”

“So can I.” Feeling more relaxed than he had all day, Murdoch put an arm around his son’s shoulders.  Walking towards the kitchen door, Murdoch stopped.  “Are you sure about burying the ring?”

“I’m sure.”  Johnny looked back at the freshly turned earth at the bottom of the oak tree.  “Who knows, someday it could be someone else’s buried treasure.”  

End
March 2023

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