RATING-----PG13
AUTHOR--- Winnie
DISCLAIMER---The Lancer’s and other characters do not belong to me. I’m just borrowing them for a little while.
COMMENTS-----This was written in honor of Wayne Maunder’s birthday and takes place during Christmas. Wayne made Scott Lancer who he is and there is no one who could hold a candle to his performance. Thank you, Wayne, for giving us a hero who shines in our hearts and eyes. Thanks to Cheryl for reading along with this one and to Marti for her comments and help with several typos amongst other things. Thanks as always to Antoinette for being the solid beta she is.
Part 1
December 17th-Five miles south of Lancer
‘Christmas,’ the young man thought as he rode away from Lancer. The word should have filled him with joy, but instead it drove home the reason for this hasty trip to the hacienda on the Mexican border. No one knew where he was headed and that was the way things would stay until he had his brother back. He turned to the man riding slightly ahead and to the right of him and fought the urge to make a move for his gun and send a bullet into the man’s black heart, but his weapon was inside the man’s saddle bag. He knew if he gave into those thoughts Scott Lancer would be dead as soon as he rode onto the grounds.
‘I’m coming, Boston, just hang on a little longer!’ he vowed as his mind went back to the events leading up to this point in his life.
December 14th-Green River.
“Hey, Boston, is that my Christmas present?” Johnny asked as he joined his brother on the boardwalk outside the mercantile.
“It might be, but you’ll have to wait and see.”
“Ah, come on, Scott, what is it?” Johnny asked, his curiosity piqued as the blond tucked the package under his arm.
“It’s well,” the Bostonian turned to his brother and smiled as he bent close to his ear and whispered. “It’s for me to know and you to find out, Brother!”
“Scott!” Johnny called as the other man hurried across the street. “Where are you going?”
“My throats a little dry and I figured you owe me a beer!”
“What? Hey, it’s your turn to buy!” Johnny shouted as he hurried to catch up.
“No way, Johnny. You owe me two. Remember the last time we went into Moro Coyo? You were so broke you couldn’t even pay attention.”
“Damn, Scott, that’s low,” Johnny said, but couldn’t help laughing at his brother’s sense of humor. They stepped through the doors and Johnny’s gaze automatically swept the interior. In the year since finding out his father was alive and that he had a brother, Johnny’s life had become easier, but he still had the catlike instincts that went with a gunslinger’s reputation. He saw his brother talking to one of the ladies who frequented the saloon and hurried towards them, awed by the simple way Scott spoke to the fairer sex. He knew the women found Scott’s manners and upbringing a challenge since the blond never put on airs like his grandfather. Instead his brother simply chatted with them on equal terms.
“Hello, Johnny, your brother was just telling me what he bought you for Christmas.”
“He was...”
“Yes he was and don’t bother asking me what it is because I’m sworn to secrecy,” the woman batter her eyelashes and crooned softly as she hugged the two brothers before walking towards another potential customer.
“Scott...”
“Sorry, brother, but I’m not telling you. I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait and see. Now how about buying me that beer?”
“Guess so, but you owe me...”
“We’ve been through that already, Johnny, you owe me two beers right now and my throat is beginning to get parched.”
“Alright, Scott, get us a table and I’ll grab the beers,” Johnny explained, shaking his head at his brother’s ability to keep a secret. He was chomping at the bit, wanting to show Scott what he’d bought for him, but also wanted it to be a surprise. The timepiece was an expensive gift, but one he knew his brother would appreciate. He’d ordered it from a special catalogue and had already wrapped it and placed it where he knew Scott would not look for it.
“What’ll it be, Johnny?” the bartender asked as he placed a clean glass on the bar.
“Two of the usual, Pete,” Johnny answered as the saloon doors opened and a man stepped into the gloomy interior. The gunslinger instincts kicked in and Johnny Lancer quickly became Johnny Madrid, an alter ego seldom seen since coming home to Lancer. His blue eyes, usually warm with humor were now cold as ice as he watched the newcomer. The man was several years his senior and walked with a simple grace, yet the reflexes were there, as nimble fingers seemed to dance across the top of his gun. The man’s deadly cold eyes were trained on him and Johnny knew he was facing down his own worst nightmare.
“Hello, Johnny,” the voice was raspy, but it held an air of authority that boded anyone to defy his authority.
“Hello, Miguel, what brings you to Green River?” Johnny asked, his voice coldly calculating as his fingers wandered towards his own weapon.
“I thought I’d come see what my old friend Johnny Madrid was doing...”
“Here’s your beer, Johnny,” Peter Mercer said as he slid two glasses towards the dark haired gunslinger.
“Thanks, Johnny,” Miguel Espinoza grinned as he grabbed a glass and dumped the contents on the floor in front of the younger man. The liquid splattered over Johnny’s boots even as the two sets of eyes glared at each other.
“We were never friends, Miguel,” Johnny warned, his voice deadly calm as his hand found his way towards his gun once more.
Across the room Scott Lancer was fully aware of the confrontation between the fearsome duo. He’d seldom seen Johnny in his gunslinger facade, but he recognized the look immediately. Placing the package on the chair beside him, Scott Lancer stood and quickly strode towards the two men facing off in front of the bar. He watched as Johnny’s movements matched the other man’s, but also realized where the newcomer’s movements were sporadic and lacked confidence, Johnny’s were filled with a catlike grace and the instincts of a stalking feline.
“Ah, Johnny, you wound me!” Espinoza said, a haphazard half grin on his face. “You and I are cut from the same cloth!”
“No, Miguel, we may have run with the same people, but I was never a man who attacked women when they refused my affections. Then again what you were offering was not affection!”
“I did not attack that woman. Besides she was mine. I owned her just like I owned everything and everyone on my land!”
“People are not owned, Miguel! I thought I taught you that lesson already!”
“Johnny, is everything okay?”
“This has nothing to do with you, Scott. Grab your beer and I’ll join you in a minute!”
“I don’t think so, Brother. Who is this...man?”
“Brother? You never told me you had a brother, Johnny. Why don’t you introduce us?”
“There’s no point since you’re not staying!”
“It’s a free country, Johnny. I think I’ll stick around for a few days. Perhaps you and your brother could show me around your fair country.”
“I don’t think Johnny’s interested,” Scott said, leaning his elbows against the bar as he watched the man standing in front of his brother.
“I thought your country was filled with friendly people. It seems I was misinformed. Your manners are certainly lacking here!” Espinoza said as he watched the two brothers.
“Manners are reserved for those who show them in return,” the blond said, smiling innocently at the look that flashed across the Mexican’s face. He knew instinctively he’d just made an enemy and something told him this was not a man to be taken lightly.
“Leave, Miguel, I’m not the man you once knew!”
“I don’t think you were ever the man he thinks he knew. Come on, Johnny, I’ll buy you a beer! Pete, make it two!”
“Sure, Scott,” the bartender said, hoping the older brother could diffuse the volatile situation before them.
“Coming, Johnny, we have a long ride back home and that beer will go a long way towards quenching my arid throat.”
“Is he his brother’s keeper, Johnny? Do you do everything he tells you...” His words were cut off as two hands wrapped around his neck and tightened around his throat.
“Go back to your hacienda, Miguel, or so help me I’ll make you pay for killing her right now!”
“Johnny, no!” Scott said, sensing his brother’s anger as the handsome face contorted with rage.
“Stay out of this, Scott!”
“No! I won’t let you ruin your life because of him. You have a family now and you don’t have to do anything alone! Let him go!”
“Scott...”
“Johnny, think about it! Is he worth giving up everything we’ve found? Can you go back to be Johnny Madrid after tasting life at Lancer?” Scott watched as the fingers slowly relaxed and the chokehold was finally released.
Espinoza dropped to his knees and used one hand to support himself and the other to rub at his bruised throat. He finally stood and stared at the dark haired Lancer.
“You’ll never be anything but a two bit gunslinger, Madrid, and you’ll regret putting your hands on me!”
“Get out of here, Miguel! Go back where you belong!”
“It wasn’t so long ago that you belonged there too, Johnny, and I’m betting it won’t be long before you come back home!”
“He is home!” Scott said simply as he and Johnny turned their backs on the Mexican. He picked up both glasses and led his brother towards the table he’d picked out. He could feel the tension in the air as the sound of the batwing doors rattled in their frames, but did not look to see if Espinoza had indeed left the saloon.
“Are you all right, Johnny?”
“I’m fine, Scott. Thanks for the beer.”
“Anytime. Do you want to tell me about him?”
“What’s to tell. He owns a hacienda in Mexico and I worked for him for a spell. He didn’t like it when I left and I guess he’s here to tell me that.”
“Doesn’t seem to be any love lost between you two,” Scott observed as he watched his brother’s features relax.
“I never liked the man, Scott, but he paid top wages and I needed the money.”
“What made you leave?”
“Just didn’t like his way of working things. Maybe I’ll tell you about it someday!”
“Anytime you feel like it Johnny,” Scott assured the younger man. He watched as his brother’s face went through several emotions until his gaze dropped towards the beer. The younger Lancer was as steady as a rock as he lifted the glass and downed the contents before signaling that he wanted another. Scott continued to study his brother, wondering how many secrets he had and why sometimes he could read him, while at other times he was as closemouthed as he was right now.
“I’m really okay, Scott.”
“I know,” the blond agreed, smiling as the bartender brought them both a refill. The two men lapsed into silence as the saloon returned to normal and people forgot about the confrontation.
Miguel Espinoza mounted his horse, angry and frustrated that he hadn’t gotten what he wanted. Turning to the two men who accompanied him he snarled as they headed out of town.
“Madrid’s here!”
“Is he coming back with us?”
“No, Ernesto, the sonofabitch seems to think he’s free and clear, but he owes me and I know just how I’m going to make him pay!”
“Are we going back home?”
“Not until I pick up a certain package.”
“A package?” Ernesto Ruiz asked.
“Si. There is someone here who will insure Madrid’s return to Mexico.”
“Who?” Manuel Mendoza asked.
“It seems Johnny Madrid is really Johnny Lancer and he has a brother who he cares about.”
“You always said there was no room for family when you’re a gunslinger!” Mendoza laughed as they passed the last building at the edge of town.
“So how do we get to Madrid’s brother?”
“We find out where they live and wait for him,” Espinoza explained, looking back at the town once more before continuing towards the area where he’d left the rest of his men.
December 16th-Line shack on the southern edge of the Lancer ranch.
Scott sighed contentedly as he rode his chestnut bay towards the familiar line shack. The snow was just beginning to fall as darkness overtook the land. He’d spend the night here and head back to Lancer at first light and help the family pick out a suitable tree for Christmas. Prince whinnied and shied away from the line shack and Scott quickly patted the horse’s neck as he reined him to a stop in front of the small building.
“Easy, boy, won’t be long and I’ll give you a good rub down.” His voice sounded loud to his own ears as he dismounted and looked around. Sometimes he craved the solitude the line shack gave him and tonight was one of those times. Here he could relax and let his mind wander over the years he’d spent away from the land he now knew and loved. The difference between life in Boston and life at Lancer was like night and day and he knew he could never give up the family he’d discovered.
His life in Boston was filled with socialite gatherings and business meetings. At the time he’d been living each day as it came, wondering if there were something else he would be better suited to. The message he received from his father had come at a time when he was debating about leaving Boston to pursue other interests. Scott looked around once more smiling contentedly as he took in the land he loved so much. A sound off to his left interrupted his thoughts and he searched the area for whatever made the sound. The horse whinnied once more and shifted nervously against its owner.
“Easy, Boy,” Scott soothed, rubbing the animal’s muzzle as he studied the dark shadows surrounding him. The sound was repeated and the blond knew he was not alone. His hand went to his gun, but the sound of a gun cocking halted its progress.
“Keep your hands where I can see them, Lancer!”
Scott recognized the accent, but not the voice as he turned and faced the newcomer. Recognition dawned as he looked into the face he’d seen only once before.
“What are you doing here?”
“Ah, I see you remember me, Lancer. Manuel, Ernesto, please relieve him of his weapon and see that his hands are secured!”
“Si, Miguel,” Ruiz smiled as he moved out of the shadows and strode towards the victim. “Keep your hands where I can see them!”
“What do you want with me?” Scott asked as Mendoza removed his gun and stuffed it into the front of his own pants.
“It’s not what I want with you, Lancer, it’s what you can give me.”
“What would that be?”
“Your brother of course!” Espinoza smiled as his men grabbed Scott’s arms and pulled them behind his back. He stood in front of the captive and continued to stare into the blue eyes. He saw the hatred and again a smile formed on his face as without a word he drew back his fist and drove it into Scott’s unprotected stomach.
Scott felt the blow as the air was driven from his lungs and a second fist drove into the opposite side of his abdomen. Again and again the blows landed until Mendoza and Ruiz were supporting the blond between them.
Espinoza stepped closer to the battered man and grabbed a fistful of blond hair. He lifted Scott’s head, noting the blood seeping from the nose and trailing down the left side of his chin. He waited for the blue eyes to focus on him before speaking.
“I’m sure your brother will accept my invitation to join me in Mexico. Don’t you think so, Scott?”
“Go...go t...to h...” His head rocked back as Espinoza’s fist rocked his senses once more. Still Scott fought to lift his head and finally met the man’s eyes. Before he could repeat his words something was wrapped around his face and shoved into his mouth.
“Get him on his horse and let’s get out of here!” Espinosa ordered. “Ernesto, you ride to the Lancer place tomorrow morning and give Johnny my ultimatum. Just make damn sure he knows he’s to come alone or his brother pays the price!”
“Si, Miguel!” Ruiz said as two other men joined them.
“Was he alone?” Espinoza asked the newcomers.
“Si, there is no one else around,” Ortez assured them.
“Good, let’s get moving. Ernesto, do not make any mistakes with Madrid. He is faster than any man I have ever seen!”
“I can handle Madrid!”
“Do not fool yourself, Ernesto. Madrid is not someone to take lightly. I have seen his work firsthand and know what he is capable of,” Espinoza warned as he watched Ortez and Mendoza secure Scott Lancer across his own saddle. Without waiting for the others to mount up he took the reins and mounted his own gelding. He turned away from the shack and headed away from Lancer territory, smiling at the idea of finally having his long sought after revenge on Johnny Madrid.
December 17th-Lancer
Johnny looked at his bed and longed to crawl back under the blankets, but he knew there was plenty of work ahead and he needed to meet Scott at the south pasture and fix the fence there. He walked to the window and shivered as he looked at the light covering of snow. His mind wandered to the family that now surrounded him.
Murdoch Lancer was a hardnosed rancher who had only sent for them when he needed something in return, yet things had changed since that first meeting. The hardness had been replaced with a warmth that although seldom seen was there in the way the man treated his sons. They’d had their differences, but again they’d dealt with them as a family.
Teresa O’Brien was like a sister to both him and Scott and more often than not they found themselves squabbling like siblings. He’d do anything for Teresa and absolutely loved when she baked her cakes and pies. He smiled as he remembered stealing a pie she’d placed on the table to cool. He ate the whole thing and still denied being responsible for the theft, but they knew it was him.
Jelly Hoskins was a close friend of the family and had proven time and again that he was loyal to a fault. The man’s grizzled appearance belied the kind heart that beat in his chest. Jelly tried hard to fit in and more often than not he did just that. Johnny smiled as he pictured the man when they were searching for a gift for Murdoch. He’d traded his new boots instead of killing the pig he’d purchased for his boss’s birthday. The man had a heart of gold and he often wore it on his sleeve.
Johnny sighed as his mind turned to his brother. Scott may have been raised in Boston, but he belonged at Lancer. The blond was a greenhorn when they first met, but he’d quickly learned the ways of the west and could easily stand against any and all comers. He admired Scott’s ease when it came to talking business with their father and enjoyed listening to the two men debate the best way to swing a deal. He often joined in and more than once sided with his brother, not because he needed his brother’s approval, but because what Scott said made sense. His brother was well educated and sometimes he felt insecure in his own lack of education, but the blond had never talked down to him. He admired Scott’s ease and simplicity and his ability to talk with you on equal terms instead of down to you. Taking a deep breath Johnny turned away from the window and moved towards the bed once more. He reached for the faded jeans and blue shirt and smiled as he realized Teresa had worked her magic once more. The clothes were clean and freshly washed and he knew he needed to tell her how much he appreciated the work she did.
“Johnny, breakfast is ready!”
“Coming Teresa!” Johnny called and hurried to dress as the smell of flapjacks assaulted his senses.
December 17th -on the trail to Mexico
Scott felt consciousness returning and wondered if it would be more advisable to stay under. His head pounded and he was sure a herd of wild horses were stampeding through his skull. Nausea and pain threatened to make his ride even more uncomfortable as he fought the bile threatening to come up in his throat. Consciousness was as unwelcome as the pain that gnawed at his gut and he knew if they didn’t stop soon he would be sick. He blinked rapidly in an effort to clear the fog enshrouding his mind, but met with little success as the horses movement continued to make his stomach churn. Scott tried to lift his head, but again was defeated by the mounting nausea.
“Senor Espinoza, we better stop now or Lancer will drown in his own vomit!” Ortez warned as he watched the struggling captive.
The Mexican turned to see his captive fighting against his bounds and knew Ortez was right. Drawing the horses to a halt he nodded towards a clump of brush and stones and spoke to his men.
“Alright we’ll stop here for an hour. Manuel, see to the prisoner’s needs!”
“Si, Miguel,” Mendoza said as he drew alongside Scott’s horse. He dismounted and took the reins from Espinoza before leading the two horses towards the brush. He ground tied both animals before grabbing the captive’s hair and lifting the head. “So, Senor Lancer, how do you like your travel arrangements?”
Scott glared at the man, but the effort sapped what little strength he had left as the man released his hair and he sagged against the horse once more. He felt the ropes binding him to the horse being released and muffled a cry of pain as his body dropped heavily to the ground. Gasping for breath he curled into a ball as the nausea continued to roll through his stomach. His arms were grabbed and he was dragged to his feet as the world swam before his eyes. The gag was removed and he gulped in heaving breathes of air as his body craved the ability to take in oxygen without the obstruction.
“Come on, Lancer, if you got anything that needs takin’ care of you’d best do it now!”
“Take the ropes...”
“The ropes stay, Senor...”
“How...”
“Perhaps I can be of assistance?”
“Stop it, Ortez! Untie his hands and let him take care of his needs!” Espinoza warned. He wasn’t fond of Ortez, but the man had proven his worth more than once.
“Si, Senor,” Ortez’s voice showed his disappointment as he cut through the ropes binding his captive’s arms.
Scott muffled a groan as his arms dropped to his side and needles and pins shot through his fingers. He stood staring furiously at his captors and knew he would have to do something to escape before Johnny was captured as well. He rubbed at his wrists until Ortez shoved him towards the brush.
“Hurry up!” the big man ordered.
Scott moved behind the thicker brush and quickly took care of business before searching the area for any means of escape. He shivered as the damp cold seeped into his bones and wished he’d worn a warmer coat.
“Get out here, Lancer, or I will come in there after you!”
Scott knew the chill he felt was more from the man’s threats than from the cold and he quickly moved out of the brush once more.
“There’s hardtack and jerky for lunch. Eat it quickly or do without. We’re moving out in fifteen minutes!” Espinosa warned as his captive moved towards the rock and picked up the meager meal.
Scott ate in silence, slowly chewing the jerky as he watched each man checking his own horse and making sure the cinches were tight. He studied the area surrounding them, and watched for anything that would aid in his escape. There was very little he could use to hide in and his body throbbed with a dormant pain that would quickly explode once he started to run, but as the others turned away, Scott Lancer stood and raced towards the strand of trees two hundred feet to the south. The snow had quickly melted with the rising sun and Scott slipped several times as a cry went up from behind him.
“Hey Lancer’s escaping!”
“He won’t get far!” Espinoza shouted as he mounted his Palomino and grabbed the rope off his saddle horn.
Scott stumbled, but didn’t go down as he covered the distance between himself and safe haven. He knew in his heart he would not make it, but it didn’t stop him from trying. Chest heaving as his battered ribs ached in protest the blond man jumped over a fallen log as the sound of hoof beats reached his ears. Someone laughed while another screamed out a wager, and still he ran for his life. The trees loomed ever closer as something hit his left shoulder and he shrugged it off. Diving and rolling to his left Scott tried to duck under the rope once more but this time it landed over his head and dropped down his body before tightening around his waist. He was pulled backwards and jerked off his feet as the rope tightened. The air was driven from his lungs as Espinoza rode astride of him, tightening the rope as he did. Scott stared up at the man as he struggled to gain his feet.
“Well, Lancer, it seems like you enjoy a good foot race! How would you feel about racing with me?” the Mexican asked as he continued to pull the rope.
Scott finally made it to his feet and reached down to pull the rope off his waist, but a quick flick of the wrist had the horse racing again and the blond found himself belly down on the ground as his body was dragged across the uneven ground. He rolled with the change of direction and his right shoulder slammed up against the log he’d jumped over moments before. He bit back a cry as he tried to protect his face from the brush and debris that littered the area, but soon felt the stinging pain as several cuts were opened up. His clothes were hooked and tugged by rocks and stone and he soon felt the dirt grinding into an open wound on his right side. He grunted as his left side slammed against a boulder as Espinoza turned the horse once more and rode back towards the makeshift camp. Scott had no idea how long the ride into hell lasted, but when it ended his stomach churned and he vomited everything he’d managed to eat. Sick and in pain he climbed to his knees and tried to figure out which part of his body hurt worse. He raised his head as his captor came to stand in front of him.
“Well, Lancer, did you enjoy the ride?”
“Senor Lancer does not seem very talkative!” Ortez observed as he accepted several coins from Mendoza.
“No, he doesn’t. Perhaps he’s thirsty!” Espinosa said as he reached for his canteen. He took several long swallows, letting the water run down his chin before recapping the canteen. “Would you like some water, Lancer?”
Scott did not answer as he stared at the older man. He craved the water, yet would not show any weakness to this man or those that worked for him. Using his left arm he loosened the rope from his waist and lifted it over his head. Moving his right arm caused pain to radiate from shoulder to fingertips and he wondered if it was broken or dislocated, either way he knew it his right arm was useless. He began taking inventory of his injuries, but before he got far his hands were grabbed and the world around him tilted and swam before his eyes. He heard the men speaking, but could not understand what was being said as his hands were once more bound, this time in front of his body. Strong hands dragged him towards his horse and he was lifted into the saddle. His hands were bound to the saddle horn, but at least he was not belly down.
“Mount up, boys. Ernesto should be at Lancer by now and I want to be home before they catch up with us. I wouldn’t want Johnny to miss out on Christmas with his brother!”
“J...Johnny won’t c...come,” Scott stammered as consciousness began to slip away.
“Oh, he’ll come and when he does he’ll find out just what it means to lose something that belonged to you!”
Scott watched through blurring vision as Espinosa was handed Prince’s reins and led the others southward once more. As the horse moved steadily over the uneven terrain he gave in to the call of darkness and left the pain behind.
December 17th -Lancer
Patting his full stomach, Johnny smiled across the table. “Scott doesn’t know what he’s missing.”
“Are you still planning to meet him at the south fence?” Murdoch asked.
“Yeah. We’ll meet up around lunchtime and fix that fence before heading into Green River,” Johnny answered, reaching for another biscuit.
“Good, make sure you stop by Sam’s and drop off those papers. He’ll need to sign them both before you drop them off at the bank!”
“Sure, Murdoch.”
“Johnny, please don’t forget to pick up the flour or I won’t be able to get any baking done,” the young woman explained.
“Sure, Teresa, wouldn’t want to miss out on any of them cakes or cookies you make!”
“Thanks, Johnny. Since you’re going to meet Scott I’ll make him some sandwiches!”
“Better make a couple for me too. Riding out to meet Scott is bound to make me hungry!”
“When aren’t you hungry, Johnny?” Murdoch laughed as his son wolfed down another biscuit.
“Probably when Teresa’s not doin’ the cooking and I have to eat Scott’s or Jelly’s cooking,” he shuddered for effect and smiled as a slight blush graced the woman’s face.
“Thanks, Johnny,” she said as she hurried into the kitchen.
December 17th -crossing the border into Mexico.
Scott woke with a start as his horse stumbled and jarred his battered body. It took several long minutes before his eyes adjusted to the bright sunshine and his vision cleared. Espinoza rode slightly ahead of him, his body relaxed and swaying with the movement of his horse. Scott looked for the other men and spotted one to his left and the other to his right. His head pounded and again his stomach churned as the pain in his shoulder intensified. With awakening his mind registered the agony shooting through several regions of his body and he winced as he shifted in the saddle.
“Something wrong, Lancer?” Espinoza asked without turning.
Scott ignored the man as he watched the trail ahead. He suddenly realized he should be grateful he was tied to the saddle, because without it he’d have fallen from the saddle. The world around him shimmered and began to fade, but he didn’t quite lose consciousness as Espinoza pulled the horses to a stop and turned back towards him.
“Well, Lancer, I asked you a question.”
“I’m f...fine...” the injured blond grated through clenched teeth.
“Then I guess you don’t need any of this!” the Mexican said as he patted the canteen. He watched as the blue eyes flashed to the canteen and saw the longing in the unsteady gaze. “Maybe I was wrong. Do you want some of this, Lancer? All you have to do is say so!”
Scott knew he needed the water, but he would not beg this man for the liquid. Sitting as tall in the saddle as possible with his injuries the blond man kept his gaze locked onto the Mexican’s. He unconsciously licked his lips, but didn’t speak as the man shrugged and looped the canteen over the saddle horn before starting the horses forward once more. His mind drifted to his newfound family and he wondered what they were doing at that minute. He smiled inwardly at the thought of Teresa O’Brien.
The young woman was amazingly adept in the kitchen, but she could also ride as well as the rest of them. He loved riding with her and listening to her stories of what life was like at Lancer when she was a child. He’d learned many things about his father, including the fact that he’d told her stories about Catherine and Maria. Scott now understood why his father had come to claim him, but left without a fight. Harlan Garrett had threatened a lawsuit and if that failed he was more than willing to take a very young Scott Lancer out of the country. Murdoch Lancer could have fought for him, but in the end he knew he couldn’t compete with Garrett Enterprises and, therefore left his son in the only home he’d ever known. Scott had many fond memories of his life in Boston, but they were quickly fading in wake of the new ones he was making at Lancer. He loved life on the open range and the smell of Teresa’s cooking after a hard days work. The sound of his brother’s laughter was a soothing balm on his nerves on the days when he had little or no sleep because of the nightmares brought on by his experiences as a prisoner of war.
Scott felt himself losing his tenuous hold on consciousness and smiled inwardly as the thoughts of his family soothed the pain caused by his battered body. He slumped forward in the saddle unaware of the confrontation taking place near his home.
December 17th -just south of the Lancer main house.
Johnny rode as if he’d been born to the saddle. His hand expertly maneuvering the reins so Barranca easily read his intentions and turned in the intended direction. The temperature was decidedly colder and he pulled the jacket closer around his body as he looked towards the heavy gray clouds overhead. He knew Scott had left without his heavy coat and he wondered what he would make the blond do before he’d hand it over. His thoughts again turned to the upcoming Christmas celebration and he smiled at the thought of his brother’s face when he opened the gift. He patted the horse’s neck and smiled as he spoke.
“What do you think? Will Scott like the watch?” He laughed as the horse lifted his head and gave him an answering whiny as if he understood what his owner was saying. “Yeah, I think so too.”
They rode on in silence for another mile before Johnny noted the change in Barranca. The animal’s ears had perked up as if he heard something and the gunslinger instincts kicked in once more. He reined the horse in and looked to his left and right until he spotted a lone rider coming towards him.
“Looks like we got company, Barranca,” he said watching as the rider continued to close the distance between them. His hand instinctively went to his gun and his fingers flexed, before coming to rest on the handle of his gun. It didn’t take long for horse and rider to come abreast of him and Johnny recognized the man immediately.
“Thought I told Espinoza to go back where he belonged?” Johnny said, his voice dripping venom as he glared at the newcomer.
“Yeah, you did and by now he should be crossing the border into Mexico, my friend,” the word was dripping with sarcasm as the Mexican stared at the dark haired Lancer.
“Why didn’t ya go with him?”
“I would have, but he asked me to extend an invitation for you to join him at his hacienda.”
“Not interested...”
“Oh, I think you should change your mind...”
“I don’t! Now get off my property before I decide to rid the land of another snake!” With those words Johnny turned Barranca and continued south.
“Insults will not go well for your brother!”
Johnny’s reaction was instantaneous as he turned back to his unwelcome visitor and grabbed the man by the throat. “What the hell are you talking about? Where’s Scott?”
“I...I c...can’t b...breathe!”
“I don’t give a damn. What have you done with my brother? Start talking, Ruiz or so help me I’ll slit you from ear to ear!” Johnny snarled as he pulled a thin bladed knife from the scabbard on his saddle.
“H...he’ll be d...dead if y...you d...don’t come w...with me! Miguel w...will kill h...him...”
“You’d better hope nothing’s happened to Scott or I’ll show you some tricks I picked up while I was with the rebels.” Johnny reluctantly released his hold and felt his stomach churn. If Espinoza had Scott there was no way his brother would be unharmed. Scott was not a man to go without a fight and Espinoza loved teaching his own lessons to people he thought below him. His thoughts flicked to the young woman who’d died in his arms and his anger formed an icy barrier around his heart before he let it control his emotions. He looked into the other man’s eyes and knew the man feared him, but for now he could do nothing about that fear. Scott’s life depended on him going to Mexico and he would have to wait until he rescued him before he could exact his own brand of vengeance.
“Give me your gun and that knife,” Ruiz said once he’d caught his breath.
Johnny smiled as he handed over his weapon, knowing he would have to bide his time. Carefully he removed his gun and handed it to the other man. Next he flipped the knife and holding it by the blade held it out in front of his body until the Mexican took it and placed it in his own saddlebag. Without a word he turned Barranca and headed towards Mexico.
December 18th === Espinoza’s Hacienda several miles north of Mexico City.
Scott slid from the horse’s back as his hands were released from their bonds. He stood on wavering legs and held tightly to the saddle as they threatened to give out. His left eye was swollen and he found it hard to focus on the darkened building in front of him. The heat of the day had sapped what little moisture he had left and he knew he had to get something to drink, but he would not ask this man for it. A hand landed on his right shoulder and he dropped to his knees as the fingers pressed against the wounded limb.
“By now Johnny Madrid knows I have you and he is on his way to Mexico!” Espinoza grinned at the pain he was causing the blond and pointed towards a long dead tree set in the center of the property.
A length of chain could be seen, and there was no doubt what the items at the end of the chain were. Scott’s experiences in Libby came back to haunt him as he recognized the heavy manacles held tightly in one of Mendoza’s men’s hands. He swallowed painfully as he gathered the courage needed to face the nightmare from his past. He remembered the cold feeling of the metal biting into his flesh each time he moved, cringed inwardly at the idea of being chained up like an animal once more. The dogs at Libby prison were given more freedom than the prisoners, and somehow Scott knew things were going to be even worse for him here. The guard’s voices came back to him and he closed his eyes as a wave of dizziness washed over him.
“Get away from me ya animal!”---“Eat that swill or so help me I’ll tie ya down and pour it down yer throat!” ---“Come on ya mangy dawg! On yer feet and get back ta work!”---“Cold! Ya ain’t seen nothin’ yet!”---“On yer feet, Lancer!” The voices ran together as if one man was speaking and Scott fought the rising bile as he tried to detach himself from what was happening.
“On your feet, Lancer!”
Scott shuddered as the two sentences seemed to run together with two distinct accents. He wanted nothing more than to lie down and let his mind and body go numb, but it was not to be as he was dragged to his feet. Scott drew on everything that made him who he was and shrugged off the hands before standing stiffly and walking haphazardly towards the man holding the manacles. He felt two men on either side of him and knew they were there to help him should he stumble, but to make sure he did not escape. Breathing through clenched teeth the battered blond finally stood in front of the tree.
“Not bad, Lancer, you got more guts than that brother of yours!”
“You don’t know Johnny as well as you think you do,” Scott grated out, as the first set of manacles were wrapped around his wrists. They were uncomfortably tight and he knew there was no way he’d be able to slip his hands out of them.
“I know your brother better than you do! Johnny Madrid...”
“Lancer! His name is Johnny Lancer!”
“He was Madrid long before he even knew the name Lancer existed. Long before he even knew he had a brother! There’s a lot more to your gunslinger brother than you know!” Espinoza warned as the second set of manacles were placed around the prisoner’s ankles.
“He’s not a gunslinger anymore and when he was I don’t think he was ever as insane...”
“Insane!” Espinoza spat as he grabbed Scott by the injured shoulder. He forced the blond to his knees once more as his eyes glazed over with hatred-induced insanity. “Let me tell you a little about your wonderful brother! Johnny Madrid killed more men than you’ll ever count on your hands! He killed with a cold-blooded heart and never looked back. He took things that didn’t belong to him and didn’t give a damn whether he was right or wrong! I’ve seen your brother stare down at a man he shot and put a bullet between his eyes!”
“N...No!” Scott tried, crying out as Espinoza continued to put pressure on his shoulder. “N...not Johnny!”
“Are you that sure, Scott Lancer? How do you know what your brother was like before you met him?”
“I know he wouldn’t kill in c...cold blood! I know he did some things he regrets, but he could never be the cold blooded killer you make him out to be!”
“Oh, that’s good, Lancer. Coming from you that’s real good! How long have you known Johnny Madrid? A year, maybe two? Doesn’t matter because I know the real Johnny Lancer and he’s going to pay for taking Cierra Lucero away from me! He killed her you know?”
“I d...don’t be...believe you!”
“No, well perhaps you should ask your brother about it. Then again your brother will probably lie about the things he’s done!” Espinoza bent forward until he was nose to nose with his prisoner.
Scott’s stomach churned as the smell of strong spices and sweat assaulted his nostrils and threatened to empty his stomach. He tried to turn away, but was held in place by the man’s hands on his shoulders. “I don’t need to ask Johnny anything! I trust him with my life!”
“That’s good,” Espinoza laughed. “Because that’s exactly what’s riding on your brother coming here. If he turns down my invitation I’ll have you killed...very, very slowly!” With a final hiss of horrid breath he released Scott’s shoulders and took something from the man standing beside him.
Pain and weariness nearly overcame the blond as he struggle to stay on his knees. Not wanting to show any weakness he kept his gaze on Espinoza as he moved to stand in front of him. Before Scott could say anything a circle of metal was wrapped around his neck and locked into place. Scott cursed and raised his left hand, but could not remove the offending object.
“Now your brother will see you chained like a dog when he arrives! Give him some water and a blanket, after all I need him alive when Johnny Madrid arrives,” Espinoza warned, smiling as he saw the look of hatred on his prisoner’s face.
December 19th -Just inside the Mexican border.
Johnny rode silently, his body showing none of the turmoil racing through him. His face was set with grim determination, yet inside fear for his brother’s life controlled his every thought, making it impossible for him to concentrate on a plan of action. He knew Espinoza was keeping Scott alive at least until his arrival, and somehow, Johnny would make damn sure Scott would spend Christmas in his own home. He hadn’t spoken since handing over his weapons and he knew it was unnerving and smiled as Ernesto Ruiz looked back at him and turned quickly away without so much as a word.
‘You’ll pay!’ he vowed, pulling his jacket closer around his body as a chill wind crept across the open area. No matter what happened Johnny would exact his pound of flesh for every mark Espinoza heaped on Scott Lancer’s body. He’d see it done personally and enjoy every minute of Espinoza’s agony. His mind turned to the pretty Mexican woman he’d held close and he wondered what would have happened had she lived through Espinoza’s manhandling.
“I’m so sorry, Cierra...”
“Did you say something?”
Johnny didn’t bother with an answer as he glared into the man’s eyes. He smiled inwardly as Ruiz quickly looked away. The man was a coward, but tried to act big when around Espinosa or any of the others. Turning his attention to the direction they were traveling, Johnny thought again about how much his life had changed and Scott’s influence on those changes. It still amazed him that he had a brother and that he’d been a greenhorn when they first met, but had learned the ways of the west so quickly that there was no sign of the man who’d been on the stage. Scott Lancer had quickly proved he was his father’s son and now knew as much about life in the west as any of them. He’d also proved quite adept at riding and shooting. Scott’s prowess with both the rifle and a Colt was quickly spreading, although he was better with the rifle than with the colt.
‘Just hang on, Scott. Don’t give up hope,’ he thought as they continued south.
December 19th- Lancer
Murdoch frowned as he looked out over the land he loved so well. The day had dawned bright and clear, but clouds had quickly dotted the horizon until they encompassed the blue sky and obliterated the sun. The air had grown heavy with cold and it seeped into his bones, yet he knew it wasn’t the cold that caused the shiver to run down his spine. Johnny had left that morning to go and meet Scott, mend the fence and then return in time for dinner. It was now late into the night and neither of his sons had returned.
“Where are you boys?” he whispered as he looked around at the sound of footsteps.
“I thought you’d like some coffee.”
“Thanks, Teresa.” Murdoch accepted the steaming cup and sipped at the strong brew. He wrapped his arm around his young charge and could see the worry clearly written on her face. Since Carl’s return just after supper their worry had gained momentum until neither one could sleep. The ranch hand was supposed to help Johnny and Scott with the repairs, but when he arrived there was no sign of either man. He’d taken the time to ride to the line shack and had been surprised to find it hadn’t been used and there was no evidence that anyone had spent time there recently.
“They’ll be okay, Murdoch, they probably went into Green River early and ended up staying there.”
“Maybe,” the older man said, but the word sounded false even to him.
“What do you think could have happened?”
“I don’t know, but come morning I’ll be taking some of the hands and see if we can pick up their trail. If we don’t find anything then we’ll check Green River and I’ll send a couple of men to check Moro Coyo.”
“Jelly says we’re going to have more snow.”
“He might be right. Those clouds look like storm clouds,” Murdoch said, Shivering once more before looking into the young woman’s eyes. “It’s getting late and you’re cold...”
“I’m okay...”
“I know, but it is cold. Let’s finish our coffee inside before Jelly’s prediction comes true,” Murdoch said, smiling at the worried woman. With a final look out over his land he turned and walked into the house, silently praying that he wasn’t about to lose the two sons he’d only just began to know.
December 19th - Espinoza’s Hacienda.
Scott shifted as he tried to find a more comfortable position, but every part of him ached. The heat of the sun had little to do with the heat raging within his body and he knew he was sporting a fever. He glanced towards the sky blinking rapidly as the sun baked what little moisture he had left. His throat was arid and he knew he was dangerously close to dehydration as he looked around the hacienda. Several guards were in evidence, but none had come near enough for him to ask for water. Shifting his upper body set off another wave of nausea and he cursed Espinoza for making him suffer. He closed his eyes as the bright orb continued to bake the earth around him, casting shadows everywhere but where he sat chained like a rabid dog. The sound of approaching footsteps reached his ears, but he didn’t have the strength needed to force his eyes open.
“You must drink, Senor, before that cursed sun bakes you to a shriveled husk.
Scott opened his eyes, surprised to see a weather beaten face covered in white hair. A pair of luminescent green eyes stared down at him with a mixture of fear and pity. Scott sat forward and moaned as he reawakened the dormant pain. He heard the man speaking to him, but could not summon the strength needed to give voice to his words.
“Please, Senor, before Senor Espinoza discovers I am giving you more than he has ordered. If he finds me I will be beaten. That’s it, open your mouth and drink, but do it slowly or you will only make yourself sick and that would make things worse.”
Scott felt the water enter his mouth and nearly cried with the relief it gave. He slowly drank the warm water as if it was the finest wine ever made. He lifted his hands, but the chains kept him from grabbing the cup as it was pulled away.
“Please, you must eat Senor and then you can have more water. It will help you.”
Scott opened his eyes and was surprised at the raspy quality of his own voice. “W...why are you h...helping me?”
“I overheard Senor Espinoza say that you are Johnny’s brother...”
“Y...yes...”
“I am known only as Jose. Espinoza found me when I was ill and gave me and Carmela a home. It has been a very worrisome one, but at least we have a roof over our heads. Johnny was good to me and Carmela when he was here. He protected her many times from Espinoza’s men and now we can finally do something to help him. I only wish it was more, but Carmela said to make sure you ate and so I have brought you some of her biscuits.” Looking around Jose made sure the guards were busy as he plucked two biscuits from the inside of his shirt. He quickly placed them inside Scott’s shirt and shook his head before speaking. “Make sure no one is watching you or I will not be allowed to bring you water anymore.”
“O...okay...thank you.”
“You are welcome...”
“Jose, what are you doing over there?”
“Senor Espinoza asked me to give the Americano some water. I am simply doing as he ordered!”
“Well, hurry up and get away from him!”
“Si, Manual!” Jose said and turned back to the prisoner. “I am sorry I cannot do more for you!”
“Thank you...and Carmela,” Scott whispered before the cup was once more placed to his lips. He finished the last of the water, but it was not enough and his eyes pleaded with the man for more.
“I cannot bring any more unless Senor Espinoza orders it, but I will remind him often that you are fair and in need of water if he wants to keep you alive.”
Scott nodded and watched as the elderly man left him alone once more. He had no idea how long he’d been at the hacienda, but knew it wasn’t as long as it felt. So far his skin had been protected by the light shirt he wore, but the skin on his face felt tight. Closing his eyes he let his mind wander and smiled as he drifted into a warm dream that did more for the pain he felt than several doses of Laudanum.
Scott watched as one of the guards approached him and he swallowed painfully. The fact that the man was smiling did little to ease Scott’s mind. The man’s face was scarred and pockmarked and his breath was laced with stale tobacco and spices.
“Well, Lancer, your brother will soon be here and maybe Miguel will let me brand him much the same way he branded me. I have a scar on my face given to me by Johnny Madrid and I want to make sure he gets the same thing. Do you think Johnny would enjoy having a scar like this?” the Mexican asked, pointing to a silver dollar sized mark on his right cheek.
Scott tried to ignore the newcomer, but there was no denying a man whose breath could even offend a skunk. He tried to turn away but a blow to the right side of his face rocked his head back and he fought to stay conscious.
“Or maybe I’ll just rearrange that pretty face of yours. Whatcha think? Do you like fire?”
Scott remained silent as the man continued to talk. He knew his silence was contributing to the man’s anger, but he didn’t care! The pain was nearly his undoing, but he fought to raise his head and look into the Mexican’s face. Their eyes locked and Scott knew this man would do just what he was threatening if given the chance. The blond cringed as the man’s dirty hand came up to rub against his cheek.
“Ever smelled burning flesh, Lancer? It’s almost sickly sweet and not pleasant for anyone with a weak stomach! Do you have a weak stomach like your brother?”
Again Scott remained stubbornly silent as he tried to calm his churning stomach, but the man’s breath continued to wreak havoc with his senses. His vision blurred as his antagonist struck out at him again and again.
“Thought you city raised boys were taught some manners, but I can see you’re gonna have to learn proper ways to answer a man!”
“Manual, what are you doing?”
“I was teaching this Americano some manners, Miguel! He does not know how to talk when spoken to! See, even now he does not speak!”
“Leave him alone, Manual!” Espinoza warned as he knelt and stared into the glazed blue eyes. He could tell there was still a lot of fight in Scott Lancer and was beginning to see the similarities between the two brothers. There was more of Johnny Madrid in this man than met the eye and he was not about to make the mistake of underestimating this coiled cobra. He placed a finger under the captive’s chin and forced his face towards his own. “I wish to wait until Johnny Madrid returns to the home he destroyed!”
“Johnny didn’t destroy any...anything...”
“Don’t be so sure of that, Lancer. Johnny Madrid destroys everything he touches! He’s destroying you right now without even knowing it. It’s because of him that you will suffer, Scott Lancer. For who better to use as revenge against a gunslinger but the brother he’s so recently discovered. I might even allow Johnny to live after I kill you but only so I can watch him be eaten away by guilt.”
“S...sick...” Scott managed to ground out as darkness beckoned to him once more. The figures tormenting him blurred even as Espinoza’s cursing reached his fog-enshrouded mind. He grew cold at the threats made against his brother and prayed there was some avenue of escape for both of them. Something slammed against his skull and all coherent thoughts left him in wake of the excruciating pain lancing through his skull. With a final gasp of pain, Scott Lancer gave himself over to darkness, unaware of how close his brother was and the worry the younger man felt.
December 20th – Just outside Espinosa’s Hacienda
Johnny recognized the familiar landscape around him as memories of his time there returned. A warmer time before he really found out the man he worked for was more of an animal than a human being. Several times he’d seen hints of the man’s temper, but hadn’t really cared until he saw the beating he’d given Cierra Lucero. No one deserved that and Johnny had tried to take her away from it, but...he turned his thoughts from those dark times as Ruiz drew up alongside him and stopped the horses.
“Miguel said to make sure you understand who is in charge here. I am to make sure you don’t interfere with his plans.”
“How are you supposed to do that?” Johnny asked, his face relaxed, yet inside he was like a coiled snake, ready and waiting for the right opportunity to strike.
“He said to tie your hands behind you. Your brother’s life depends on you doing as he expects you to! Put your arms behind your back!”
Johnny released Barranca’s reins and slowly, painstakingly put his hands behind his back. He silently cursed his helplessness as a rope was quickly bound around his wrists, tightening until it cut off the circulation. He vowed to make Ruiz and Espinoza pay for what they were doing and knew if the opportunity arose he would kill them without a moment’s hesitation. Taking a deep breath he bit back anything he wanted to say as Ruiz led the horse towards the hacienda.
December 20th-Lancer Line Shack
Murdoch knew the news was not good as he watched Jelly ride towards him. The man had gone into Green River at dawn to find out if Scott or Johnny had been there in the last day or so. Hoskins’ whiskered face did nothing to hide the worry in the man’s eyes as Murdoch reached for the reins.
“Scott and Johnny ain’t been to Green River, Murdoch!”
“Damn...”
“Is Carl back?”
“Yes, he rode back to the house to let Teresa know what’s going on.”
“They wasn’t in Moro Coyo?”
“No, and Carl found evidence that Scott and several other riders were headed south. We’re going to follow it and Carl will bring several more men and meet us along the trail.”
“I don’t like it none, Murdoch. Scott and Johnny wouldn’t jest ride off somewhere, ‘specially with Christmas comin’. Ain’t no way them boys’d miss out on Teresa’s cookin’!”
“I know, Jelly,” the elder Lancer said as his shoulders slumped.
“Yer worried about ‘em too, ain’tcha?”
“Of course I am! Scott and Johnny are my sons, Jelly, and I know I missed a lot of years, years that I can’t get back, but I am not going to give up the years we have ahead. Get a new horse and get ready to ride! Tell Zeke we’ll need several days supplies!”
“I’ll see it gets done, Murdoch. What about Teresa?”
“Carl will make sure she knows where we are and that we’re following their trail.”
“It’s gonna be hard on her what with Christmas bein’ so close and all.”
“Going to be hard on all of us, Jelly, and it’ll stay that way until we get them back.”
“They could jest be sittin’ at one of the other line shacks...”
“They could, but somehow I don’t think that’s possible. Johnny’s tracks were joined by another rider, but it wasn’t Scott and I believe whoever this rider is knows where Scott is. I’m going after them...like I should’ve done long ago.”
“Murdoch, ain’t no one blamin’ ya fer what happened all those years ago...”
“Except me, Jelly, I’m not the kind of man to apologize for the things I’ve done and never will be, but some things are worth making the extra effort...Johnny and Scott are out there and I’m not about to leave them alone like I did Scott...I’ve got a chance to make up for some of it and I’m aiming at celebrating Christmas with you, Teresa and my sons. Right now Christmas is on hold until we get back. Now get your horse and make sure the men are ready to ride out in ten minutes!”
“Sure thin’, Murdoch!”
The Lancer patriarch held his ground and stared into the cloud covered sky. The snow would not deter him from his mission and he breathed deeply of the cold night air. Christmas had been bleak during the years when is sons were not with him, but Teresa had always been there for him. Now he’d grown used to having the boys around and he’d give up anything and everything just to see them again.
“God, I’m not much of a praying man, but Catherine said you were always ready and willing to listen. I know I haven’t been much of a father to Scott and Johnny, but there must have been some reason you brought them back to me. Lancer may be my property, but it took the two of them to make it a home again. Catherine, if you can hear me, please...” Tears formed and rolled softly down the strong cheeks as Murdoch Lancer did something he hadn’t done since her death. He spoke openly to the woman who still held a major piece of his heart. “Please, help me find my sons...and keep them safe for me!”
“Murdoch, we’re ready,” Hoskins said as he returned to the spot where his friend still stood, snow softly falling on the ground around him.
“All right, thanks, Jelly,” Lancer said, turning and striding with newfound confidence towards his own horse.
December 20th - Espinoza’s Hacienda.
Miguel Espinoza heard the sound of approaching horses as he sipped the strong, bitter liquid from the glass he held. He knew without a doubt his enemy was fast approaching and threw the glass to the ground as he strode towards the figure sitting haphazardly against the post he was bound to. The sun had been beating down on the captive most of the day, but for now he was shaded against the telling rays. Espinoza reached the post just as the riders came into the yard and he watched his enemy’s face as the blue eyes sent icy daggers of hatred towards him.
To say that Johnny’s first sight of Scott cut the breath from his lungs would be an understatement as he saw the damage done to his brother. The blond head was dipped, the hair unkempt and billowing softly in the slight breeze. He sucked air through clenched teeth as his steady gaze fell on the collar wrapped around his sibling’s neck and he struggled with the ropes binding his own wrists. He turned his head slightly, barely enough for his gaze to fall on Espinoza, yet he understood the man caught the meaning of his body’s movements. Without waiting for Barranca to stop he dismounted and hurried towards his brother, but strong arms gripped him and held him fast. Scott hadn’t moved since his arrival and Johnny fought the men holding him, but to no avail.
“Sc...Scott,” he voice broke on the single name and his heart skipped a beat as turbulent blue eyes opened and came to rest on his.
“J...Johnny...s...shouldn’t h...have come...k...kill,” Scott managed to rasp as his thick tongue stuck to his parched lips.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t, Scott?” Johnny asked. In spite of the fact he couldn’t use his hands, Johnny knew Scott was reaching out for him. The blue eyes shone with emotions and unshed moisture as the two men tried to ignore those around them.
“N...no, knew y...you would...”
“All right that’s enough!” Espinoza said and watched as Ruiz and Mendoza continued to hold Johnny away from the captive.
“Leave him alone!” Johnny screamed as Espinoza pulled the blond to his feet.
“Ah, Johnny, I see you still have not learned who is in charge. As with Cierra I must teach you to stay out of my business. It is too bad that your brother will have to suffer for your wrong doings!”
“Lay a finger on him and I’ll see you burn in hell, Miguel!”
“I’d love to see you try that, Johnny, but see it’s more fun watching you squirm as I cut your brother like I did Cierra.” Espinoza smiled as he produced a blade and slowly ran it along Scott’s cheek. “You remember that, Johnny? Remember how she screamed when I cut her here?”
Scott bit his lip as the tip of the blade cut into his right shoulder. He tried to assure his brother he was okay, but Johnny’s shrill cursing showed how overwrought he was. Espinoza continued to speak from beside him, but the knife was not removed, instead the blade went deeper and Scott felt blood slide down his skin. He couldn’t remember anyone taking his shirt off, but he focused his eyes and understood his shirt was no longer covering his chest. The livid bruises, scratches, and lacerations were evident amongst the dirt and new blood and Scott felt himself sway as Mendoza gripped his arms and held him upright.
“See, Johnny, your brother bleeds just as Cierra did! I think maybe he will last a little longer, don’t you?”
Johnny cursed and struggled against his captors as Espinoza continued to torment his captive. He saw the blood run from the wound to Scott’s shoulders and wondered how much more the injured man could stand. The ropes binding his own wrists seemed to be weakening and he concentrated on breaking free of the hemp.
“Leave him alone you sick bas...” A fist drove into his gut and Johnny Lancer silently cursed as the two men continued to hold him captive.
“Pay attention, Johnny. I warned you long ago that you would pay for trying to take Cierra from me. Today is just the beginning. I will force you to watch as I flay your precious brother alive. You’ll hear him scream and cry out and not be able to stop it and you’ll beg me to kill him so you won’t have to watch him suffer!” Espinoza cried shaking the weakened body he held as he cursed the dark haired Lancer. “You’ll know his pain is your fault...”
“No, Johnny....n...never your f...fault...”
“And the more I hurt him, the more it will hurt you. The brother you’d always wanted will cease to exist because you couldn’t face up to the wrongdoings you performed! Now watch...”
“Don’t, Miguel! Don’t you...”
“Don’t what, Johnny? Don’t do this...” The knife slashed against Scott’s unprotected side, cutting into the flesh and adding new blood to the caked on dirt. “Or this...”
Scott didn’t know which was worse. The pain of the slashing blade as it cut into his body, sending white-hot fire surging through him, or the sound of anguish coming from his brother. He lifted his eyes and tried to send strength through the pain filled stare, but Johnny Lancer was no longer there, in his place was Johnny Madrid, and Scott understood the difference between the two men. He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat as he watched the icy glaze come over the blue orbs. Shivers raced down his spine as his brother’s body straightened and a sense of calm replaced the anger on the handsome face. Scott Lancer knew he was facing a man who could easily kill and also understood he was the reason for the change in the man’s demeanor.
“J...Johnny...” Scott tried, but his words were weak and barely audible as he sagged against his captor. His arms were leaden as he continued to struggle to release his wrists, but continue he did and felt his wrist, now slick with blood slip from the restraints. He closed his eyes and concentrated, ignoring the words that sounded so close to his ear.
“So, you are still Johnny Madrid! That’s something I wanted to find out as well. All those stories I heard about the gunslinger turned rancher had me thinking and wondering if you really had given it up, but I can see the hatred and need for vengeance in your eyes, Johnny! I kinda figured the best way to find out was to use your brother! I bet you can smell his blood...I know you can see it...feel his fear...smell it...”
“N...not a...afraid...n...not of y...you...”
“Is that right, Scott Lancer? Perhaps it would be fun to see just how much pain you can take before you admit to being afraid? How about it Johnny? I’m in the mood for games and your brother seems to think he’s strong enough to handle whatever I throw at him. Do you think he can?”
“Let him go, Miguel! He has nothing to do with this!” The words were calm as the two men glared at each other.
“Ah, but you are wrong, Johnny. Your brother has everything to do with it. He will finally give me the justice...”
“Since when did you start believing in justice?” Johnny asked, watching as the silver bright blade, now sullied with his brother’s lifeblood gleamed in the light.
“Since the day you took Cierra from me!” Espinoza’s eyes clouded dangerously as he pulled Scott straighter and pressed the tip of the blade against his throat. “You killed something that belonged to me and now I’m going to do the same to you! Say goodbye to your precious brother, Johnny!”
“NO!” Madrid screamed, as the blade seemed to sink into his brother’s neck. He dove away from his captors and in spite of his bound arms managed to stay on his feet and stagger towards the horror that was tearing at his heart.
Scott felt his captor shift his weight and seized the opportunity given to him. Without a thought to the threat on his own life, Scott pulled his head away, barely escaping the sharp tip of the blade as he shoved against Espinoza. He heard his brother scream, but did not take the time to see where he was or what he was doing. As the blade came away from his throat, Scott again used his weakened body as a battering ram and shoved against the unbalanced form of his enemy. He knew he was going down and also understood he had to bring Espinoza with him. Twisting against the manacles that still held him prisoner, Scott Lancer dropped on top of his captor as angered curses and gunshots sounded nearby.
“Scott!” Madrid cried as his brother landed heavily on the ground in a mixture of dust and blood.
“Johnny! Look out!” Jose called, grabbing the gun Carmela pushed towards him. Without thinking of his own life, Jose fired the gun taking one of Espinoza’s men down even as he raced towards the scene unfolding before them.
“Jose, be careful!” Carmela cried, ducking behind the horse trough as her husband raced towards the man she’d known as Johnny Madrid.
Scott had little time to react as his body impacted the hard packed ground and the air was driven from his lungs. He heard gunfire and felt the body beneath him struggling for something and knew instinctively it was for the gun strapped at his waist. Scott grabbed for the weapon between his body and Espinoza’s even as his nemesis tugged at the collar around his neck. Scott felt the weakness as he fought the encroaching darkness and knew he was fighting insurmountable odds, but he also understood his brother’s life depended on what he did next.
Johnny hurried towards the struggling figures even as gunfire erupted around him. He heard a grunt from behind him and knew Ruiz had been hit. He recognized the voice of warning as Jose’s and heard the cries from Carmela, but could not acknowledge them as a cry of pain erupted from one of the men on the ground. Something grabbed at his shoulders and spun him around even as a fist connected with his jaw. He staggered backwards, fighting to stay on his feet as Mendoza and another man reached for him. Using his body, he drove into Mendoza’s stomach and heard the harsh whoosh of escaping air as the man’s lungs deflated.
Espinoza could not begin to understand where the gringo got his strength from, but Scott Lancer was a force to be reckoned with. The gun he’d been reaching for was now trapped between his own body and that of Madrid’s brother. The cold steel seemed to glow with a heat of its own as he stared into the blue eyes and saw death looming in them, but now he couldn’t be sure who death was really coming for.
Scott knew there was little chance of winning, but he smiled as he saw fear dawn in Espinoza’s dark eyes. Gritting his teeth, his lips curling into a malicious snarl, Scott called on every ounce of strength he had left as he forced his words through clenched teeth.
“See...you...in...hell!”
The sound of a muffled shot seemed louder than any Johnny Madrid had ever heard before and he fought with new found energy, fueled also by anger as he threw his body at the two men fighting him. Another shot sounded and Mendoza fell beside him. His eyes narrowed considerably as he looked at the lone man standing in front of him. The man’s hand went for his gun, but the eyes darkened as a cry of rage arose on the air as Jose plunged a knife into the man’s back. Johnny nodded his thanks as the Mexican quickly cut the ropes binding his arms. Taking a deep breath, he looked at the two men lying on the ground before him, neither man had moved and no sign of life could be seen and Johnny felt as if his heart had been cut from his chest as he knelt to pull his brother’s body from Espinoza’s inert form. His eyes widened at the amount of blood covering his brother’s chest and he closed his eyes as the unfamiliar feeling of moisture slipped from beneath closed lids.
Jose looked around the land surrounding the hacienda and was glad to see his friends were there and had successfully taken control of the remaining gun hands. He hurried towards his friend and knelt beside Johnny Madrid as the gunslinger pulled the blond into his arms.
“Johnny...”
“I killed him, Jose...I killed him!”
“I’m sorry, Johnny...I tried...”
“You’re not to blame, Jose...”
“And neither are you, my friend! The blame lies with men like Miguel Espinoza and their greed. Don’t let your brother’s death be for nothing!”
“N...not...dead...”
Johnny knew the words were not real...just his imagination as his mind tried to keep his brother with him. The tears were still there, but he refused to let them fall as he struggled with the loss tearing so deeply into his heart.
“J...Johnny...”
“Johnny, your brother...he is not dead!” Jose stammered, amazed at the blue eyes that sought Madrid’s attention. He watched in amazement, as Johnny Madrid became Johnny Lancer. The hatred left the emotional blue eyes and was quickly replaced by hope.
“Scott!” Johnny cried as the glazed orbs focused on him and a shaky, blood stained hand reached up to touch his cheek.
“J...Johnny...okay?”
“I’m fine, Brother, it’s you that’s hurt...”
“U...under...state...ment!”
“You got that right,” the dark haired man said as Jose checked the Mexican lying on the ground beside them.
“He is dead,” Jose informed Johnny as Carmela hurried towards them. The woman held something clasped tightly in her hands and Johnny sighed gratefully as she showed him the keys.
“Get them off of him!” the dark haired Lancer ordered, his voice deadly calm in spite of the fists that seemed to clench his heart in a strangle hold. He watched as Jose and Carmela used the keys to unlock the manacles and collar before swallowing the anger and looking up as the woman spoke.
“Johnny, we must get him into the hacienda!” the woman explained.
“Let us help you with him, Johnny,” Jose said as several others joined them.
Johnny nodded as he lifted his brother forward, wincing in sympathy as Scott moaned and tried to help. “Lay still, Scott. Jose, can you send for the doctor?”
“Johnny, the doctor was killed by Espinoza a year ago. There is no other in the area!” Carmela said, regret and fear evident on her face as Johnny and Jose lifted the injured man and began to carry him into the hacienda.
“What? Why?” the dark haired Lancer snapped as they hurried towards the hacienda.
“He did not do something Espinoza wanted and was shot. I am so sorry, Johnny,” Jose explained as Carmela held the door open for them.
“Scott needs a doctor...”
“J...Johnny, I’m o...okay!”
“No, Scott, you’re not, but so help me God you will be.” They carried Scott into the main bedroom and gently eased the battered body onto the bed. “Jose, see that Barranca is fed and brushed down and see if Scott’s horse is here. Is there a wagon around?”
“No, Johnny, there is no wagon, but I will see to the horses,” Jose assured him.
“Carmela, can you get me something for bandages and maybe bring some hot water and whiskey if you have any?”
“Of course, Johnny! I will see to it immediately.”
Scott heard his bother giving orders and knew he was struggling to hide his fears. Using what little strength he had left, Scott Lancer lifted his left hand and placed it on his brother’s arm. He didn’t have the strength to speak, but used his eyes to send a silent message to his brother. The emotive blue stare told Scott all he needed to know. Johnny understood exactly how bad he was hurt and no amount of reassurance was going to hide that fact.
“J...Johnny...”
“I’m here, Scott,” the dark haired man said as he watched his brother closely.
“W...want to...want to be home for...for Christmas,” Scott stammered, eyes closing as pain overrode his senses and threatened to send him into the darkened maw at the edge of his vision.
“I know you do, Scott...but...”
“P...please, Johnny, I don’t w...want to d...die here...”
“You listen to me, Boston! You’re not gonna die here or anywhere else! You hear me? Scott! Don’t do this to me, Brother, dear God don’t do this to me again!” Johnny’s mind wandered back to a very similar scene, only this time it was his brother’s life that depended on him and although he’d been close to Cierra Lucero, it was not the same kind of pain he felt now. This was his brother, a part of him that had only existed for a couple of years, yet it felt as if it had always been a part of him.
“Johnny, I have the things you asked for.”
“Thanks, Carmela,” the young man said, fighting to keep his warring emotions in check.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine...”
“I can see that,” the wizened woman said as she placed a basin of water and several towels on the table beside the bed. “Perhaps you will let me help you care for your brother.”
“I’ll take all the help I can get, Carmela, but first I need to get the rest of his clothes off.”
“I can help you with that, Johnny...”
“Thanks, Carmela,” Johnny said as the older woman helped him maneuver Scott’s unmoving body until what remained of his clothing had been removed. Johnny silently cursed the damage uncovered by the removal of his brother’s clothing. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Espinoza had dragged Scott behind a horse. The evidence was clear to see in the bruises, scratches, and lacerations covering the battered form.
“Madre de dios...how could that animal do this to...”
“Si, Carmela. Espinoza is an animal and...”
“Was, Johnny, he is dead and can no longer hurt you!”
“It wasn’t me he hurt...”
Carmela took a clean cloth and began to bathe the injured man. She kept her eyes on Johnny Madrid and wondered at the emotions warring for dominance on the handsome face. In the years since he’d left Mexico something had changed about the young man she was so fond of. She knew his heart was good, but never had the feeling been so strong in her. She looked down at the pale, bruised face of the unconscious man and understood the changes in Johnny...Madrid was no longer who he was. This man was Johnny Lancer through and through.
‘I think he hurt you more than you realize, Johnny Lancer,’ she thought as she watched his gentle hands care for the injured man.
‘I’m sorry, Scott,” Johnny thought as he washed each bruise, each scrape and laceration. Every mark was soon engraved on his heart, lending credence to the guilt that slowly overwhelmed him. He lost track of time as he washed away the blood from the knife wounds and prayed for his brother’s life. He helped Carmela smooth a salve over the worst of the wounds and held his brother while she bandaged the wounds.
“Ease him down on the pillows, Johnny,” the older woman said and finished tending the cuts before her gaze came to rest on the blonds’ right shoulder. “Johnny.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his gaze lifting from his brother’s body.
“His shoulder, it looks like it’s out of shape!”
“It’s dislocated...”
“What is that?”
“It means we have to put it back in place. It’ll hurt him...God only know I’ve done enough of that already, but...”
“Y...you didn’t d...do this, J...Johnny.” The voice, though weak, was unmistakable and Johnny smiled thinly as the blue eyes finally opened.
“Thought you were sleeping.”
“I w...was, but needed to ask you...”
“Ask me what, Scott?”
“Ask you...to...to take m...me home. Don’t w...want to s...stay here. Home...our home...Lancer.”
“Scott, you can’t travel like this. We don’t have a wagon and you can’t ride alone!”
“Ride with you. Home for Christmas, Johnny. Just....just in case.”
“In case what?” Johnny asked and knew he really didn’t want to hear what his brother would say.
“I...in case I...I don’t m...make it. Case I....”
“Don’t say that, Scott. Okay? Please, don’t talk like that. Carmela and me are gonna fix you up until the doc can get here. I gotta fix your shoulder and then you can rest...”
“No! Can’t stay here. Please Johnny, t...take me back to Lancer!”
“Alright, Scott,” the younger man’s shoulders slumped as he gave in to his brother’s pleadings. “I’m going to get your shoulder fixed and then let you rest. We’ll head home at first light!”
“Home,” Scott said gently and tried to take a deep breath. He gasped as pain threatened to send him into the darkness once more, but fought to stay in the light and bask in his brother’s light.
“Yeah, home. Carmela, could you hold him for a minute?”
“Si, Johnny,” the woman said and eased in behind the blond. She watched as the two men stared into each other’s eyes and Johnny reached forward and grasped the injured limb.
“Hold on, Scott,” Johnny warned as he quickly maneuvered the arm and popped the shoulder back into place. He heard his brother cry out and knew the effort it took for Scott to stay awake was enormous.
Scott remained still as Johnny grasped his arm, but could not stop the cry of pain from escaping his throat, as his brother seemed to wrench his arm from his body. Never before had the pain been so bad as his body arched up off the bed. He blacked out even as Johnny and Carmela quickly strapped his arm to his body in an effort to keep it from shifting.
“He’s strong, Johnny.”
“I know he is, Carmela, but even strong men have their weaknesses. Right now Scott is hurting more than he’s letting on. He wants to get home to Lancer because he thinks he’s dying and I have to make sure that doesn’t happen. I can’t let him die like I did Cierra...”
“You did no such thing, Johnny! Cierra died because that animal cut her and beat her and she was not strong enough...”
“Cierra died because she loved me and if Scott dies it’s for the same reason.” His words were spoken in an icy tone that chilled Carmela to the core. “Scott’s my brother and it’s my fault he’s here like this.”
“Johnny...”