Mistaken Identity by EM

Word Count  700

Written for Lancer Writers 2025 Cross-Over Stories  

Cross-over with The High Chaparral

Murdoch climbed out of the stage into the dusty main street of Tucson.  It had been a long, hot, uncomfortable trip.

He traveled light this time, just one small bag as he didn’t plan to be gone from the ranch very long.

It had been a number of years since he was in Tucson.  He took in the main street crowded with horses, wagons, and manure. Brushing an annoying fly away, he mused that Tucson had grown, and perhaps not for the better.  He’d barely taken a step when a single shot rang out and he flung himself behind a water barrel. 

When there was no returning gunfire, he looked out to see a man laying on the ground in front of the saloon and a man, no a boy, holstering his gun.  Shaking his head, he watched as cowhands from the saloon stood around and gawked.  The boy casually walked to his horse, mounted, and rode slowly out of town. All eyes on him, but no one questioning his right to leave.

Shaking his head at the needless death, he completed his journey to the hotel.  He had to stop himself from wondering how so young a boy would be standing in the street facing down another man.  ‘What a waste.’

As he stepped into the hotel, he tipped his hat to a family just heading out the door with their bags, obviously going to catch the stage. A thought ricocheted through his mind as he took note of the young blond boy holding his Mother’s hand. 

‘Scott.’  With a start he realized he hadn’t thought of his oldest son in several months.  It didn’t hurt as much by not thinking of him.  As he climbed the stairs to his room, his shoulders drooped.  Pushing open the door he was flooded with shame.  He needed to try again.  With resolve, he decided to send another letter.  His mind counted the years and realized Scott would be turning twenty one on his next birthday in a few months.  Harlan wouldn’t be able to control him after that.   His friend, Jim Harper told him Scott was at Harvard.  He felt unduly proud of Scott, even though he knew he had no right to feel that way.  With a sigh, he was calmed in knowing that his son was safe, and not fighting in the war between the states.

His thoughts turned to his other missing son. Johnny would be sixteen, no seventeen he corrected.  If he was alive. He quickly squashed that thought and turned his attention to cleaning up.

He decided an early night was in order.  He’d already seen enough of Tucson’s struggles without borrowing trouble by leaving the hotel.

The next morning, Murdoch checked the inner pocket of his jacket for a second time to be sure his letter of credit and wallet were in place.

He was to meet his escort to the ranch outside the hotel at ten.  Watching the comings and goings of the townsfolk, he took note of the shop keeper sweeping the boardwalk, and the smoke from the livery stable as the farrier fired up his forge.

With a start, his feet began moving before his brain caught up.  Seeing the back of a woman with dark hair, he called, “Maria!”  She didn’t respond so as he reached her, he said again, “Maria, where’s Johnny?” 

He took her arm as she turned around, “Señor?  You have me confused with someone else.”

Realizing his mistake, he flushed red, and stammered an apology.  “Señora lo siento mucho, la confundí con otra persona, por favor perdóname.”

“No harm done Señor.”

Murdoch stumbled off the boardwalk and returned to the porch of the hotel.

“Victoria, are you ready to go?  It’s time to pick up Lancer. Did that man bother you?”

“Si Buck, I’m ready, and no he didn’t bother me.  He mistook me for someone else.”

The End

August 2025

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