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CHAPTER THIRTEEN Johnny knew he was kidding himself and everyone else when they parted under the pretense of getting sleep. There was no way he would be able to do that at this point. The black void in his mind that had plagued him was still as deep, but now there was more information. Surely one of these new pieces would close the void, and he would remember everything – but at what cost? Again lying in the makeshift cot in the Alvarado’s house, the weary young man studied the ceiling with his hands behind his head. Scott Lancer had an air of familiarity around him that felt comfortable, but the feelings he thought he should have toward a brother just weren’t there. The only feelings he could pin down were those of affection toward Maria and Caesar – the things those two had done for him were fresh and solid in his memory, and he was sure of them. His brother Scott and the other as yet unseen family members only had words to give. Some of the words made connections, like the absurd plaid pants Scott had mentioned, which made the confused younger man want to hear more and believe. Then it struck him – maybe that was it. He wanted to believe. But why? If he believed the blond man, then that meant he’d have to leave the only thing that was absolutely real. He’d have to leave the only ‘father’ and ‘mother’ he really knew, and all that would do is hurt them. It was a leap of faith he wasn't sure he was brave enough to take. They don’t deserve that, he thought, as he finally gave up the premise of sleep and again went to the window. They would be losing two sons. Johnny’s stomach did a quick flip at the idea of inflicting that kind of pain on people who had shown him nothing but kindness. Then again, it was Caesar that initiated this meeting. Instinctively, he knew his surrogate father did this because it was the right thing, not because he wanted to. But there was Maria to consider. She would be devastated. Johnny braced his forearms on the windowsill, and sat with his chin on his arms. The cool darkness outside was inviting and he let his mind wander. Johnny. Johnny Lancer he thought to himself, mentally rolling the name over until he became drowsy. That’s when the white castle appeared in his mind’s eye again, he knew this time that it was the Lancer Scott spoke about. To get there, he had to cross the black void in his mind, and it was fraught with violence; why else was there so much blood in his dreams? The emotions that should come with family weren’t there until he saw the golden horse walking to him from under a graceful arch. Warmth flowed though him, and he allowed his eyes to drift shut as he admired the horse from head to hoof. Soon the vision swam and blurred, and the magical creature spun away from him and disappeared in an explosion of red and pain filled cries. Johnny awoke with a gasp and found himself on the floor with the chair on its side next to him. He sat up shakily and clutched at his galloping heart. Johnny Lancer knew then that he wouldn’t have any peace until he understood the dark void that was his past. Only then could he build new bridges back to what he should be, and, even then, there may be sorrow and grief. After meeting up at Bonita’s, Murdoch, Teresa and Scott were still too upset to sleep. Gathered in Murdoch’s room, Teresa was morosely settled in a wing chair by the window staring into the darkness, Murdoch alternated between pacing the floor or sitting on the edge of the bed, and Scott was sitting backward on a desk chair, arms and chin resting on the high back. “He looked so lost,” Teresa said quietly. She had managed to stop the tears, but her eyes were still red rimmed. “And hurt. It was like looking at a wolf with his leg caught in a trap. You know what I mean?” “Yeah,” Scott replied tiredly. “I don’t think he knows where to turn and he doesn’t want any help. That’s our Johnny.” Murdoch stood from the bed and went to Teresa, placing a big hand on her shoulder. “Well, I’m sure once he knows he has family that loves him, he’ll come around. We just got here, honey. Let’s see what tomorrow brings.” The young girl smiled up at her surrogate father. “I’m so tired, but I’m not sure I can sleep. If I look half as bad as you . . . ” The big man chuckled at the comment. “Go give it a try and I promise I will, too. We won’t do Johnny any good asleep on our feet.” Scott stretched and stood. “So I guess we’re on for tomorrow? Murdoch gets introduced first?” “I think that’s the way to go. One at a time.” “How much are we going to tell him, Murdoch?” Teresa’s question was one Scott had wondered about himself. Now was the time to decide exactly how far they would go. “Well, I asked Sam about that before we left.,” Murdoch replied. “Basically, he said to see how Johnny did meeting us. His past might be too much for him right now.” “So, it would probably be wise to have Johnny start that conversation then, wouldn’t it? If he’s wondering, he should know.” Scott rubbed his eyes wearily. “Yes, that’s probably a good idea, but I think anything along Madrid lines is better explored when he’s back at Lancer. That way, he can see right away how he’s turned his life around. It would be . . . what did Sam call it . . . positive reinforcement.” With all of them in agreement, they said their good nights and departed. Scott made sure Teresa was safe in her room before slipping into his own where he pulled off his boots and paused at the window. “We’ll get you home, Johnny,” he whispered into the velvet darkness. “We’ll help you find your way.” The next morning found Johnny both unrested and irritable. Caesar and Señor Alvarado respected his mood and the three of them ate in relative quiet. Johnny felt uncomfortable in their presence, knowing the both of them wanted to know what was on his mind, but he was disinclined to talk about something he wasn’t sure of himself. “I would like to get back to the farm today, Juan,” Caesar said softly. “You can come with me, or we can arrange to have Mr. Lancer bring you. I will leave it up to you.” “I-I’ll s-s-stay,” the young man said without much hesitation. His cheek twitched with the accompanying pain. “Some of your things are still at the house,” the farmer added, resulting in Johnny’s immediate attention. “The clothes you were wearing when we found you. They are cleaned and repaired and put away.” The question in the blue eyes regarding him was clear, and Caesar answered it in a softly guilty voice. “We didn’t show you before because they were not appropriate at the time with you being bed ridden. Then, well, they just weren’t clothes a farmer would wear.” When you decided to make me your son, Johnny thought, feeling his anger flare. He was about to demand answers about why they denied him the truth, but the deep sadness and true regret he saw in Caesar’s eyes softened his heart. Instead, he stood, and thanked his host for the meal and moved to the door, where he paused and avoided Caesar’s gaze. “I’m g-going t-to f-find my b-brother,” he said softly, ignoring the sharp twinge in his temple. The family term felt odd on his tongue. “I w-will s-s-see y-you l-later.” There was more he wanted to add, things he wanted Maria to know, but with the way his emotions were seesawing he didn't trust his voice. Instead he turned and pushed his way outside. The morning was bright and the coming of winter foreshadowed by the crisp chill in the air. Johnny took a deep breath to get his conflicted feelings under control before heading to Bonita’s. The smell of bacon and eggs wafted through the air as he pushed the entry door open. A bell on the door announced his arrival and his stomach flipped nervously as he paused in the small foyer. He could feel hard tension between his shoulder blades. Bonita’s was the closest thing to the hotel San Andreas had, but was actually just a large house. Bonita and her family lived there, and treated any boarders like an extension of her family. The dining room was one large table just off a parlor that may have been considered a lobby in a larger establishment. Bonita, upon hearing the bell, greeted Johnny while wiping her hands on her apron. She smiled, and chatted happily in Spanish. “Oh! Hello, young man! You’re Señor Arroyo's nephew. I saw you at the Festival and my daughter mentioned you many times." She smiled warmly. "Can I help you?” Johnny fingered the rosary in his pocket. “S-Señor L-L-Lancer?” he asked with a returning smile to hide the pain he felt. “Si, they are having breakfast. Join us, won’t you?” The friendly woman took the fidgeting man’s elbow and led him into the dining room before he could react to the fact that she had said ‘they’. When he entered the dining area, Johnny came to an abrupt halt. Bonita’s hand slipped from his elbow, so she indicated a seat and excused herself to get another cup of coffee. She gave the suddenly quiet group a questioning glance as she left. “Johnny!” Scott said, quickly standing and spilling his coffee. His younger brother’s eyes met with his for a moment and then returned their surprised gaze to the big man and young girl seated to Scott’s left. The man and girl had both frozen with wide eyes as soon as Johnny entered the room, but now were attempting to cover their shock. They glanced at each other, then Scott, then back at Johnny. Scott cleared his throat. “Well, you surprised us, brother. We weren’t going to introduce you to the rest of the family until later, but now that you’re here, this is Murdoch Lancer, our father.” Murdoch rose slowly and Johnny was taken aback by his size. How could I not remember him? he thought, his heart beginning to race. Some inner voice told him to not show fear or weakness, so he fought to keep all the emotions he felt at bay. “Hello, Johnny. We’ve missed you.” Murdoch’s voice was calm and deep, but something in his eyes told Johnny that there was more going on in the man’s mind. The young Lancer felt a flash of admiration at how in control the big man appeared. “B-Buenos . . .” Johnny caught himself from speaking Spanish. “H-h-hello,” he said shortly as he dropped his eyes and hitched his thumbs on his hips. His feet shifted nervously. “And this is Teresa,” Murdoch continued. “Johnny. I’ve missed you, too.” The girl’s voice was soft and sincere. Johnny looked up and smiled nervously. “Hi,” he said shortly. Suddenly, he didn’t feel very well and pulled a chair out and sat down before his knees gave out. Bonita appeared with the additional cup of coffee and a plate of bacon, and scurried back to the kitchen. The distraction gave Johnny enough time to gather his strength and face them. The awkward silence that followed was broken when Teresa reached across the table and placed her hand on top of Johnny's. "I think this is probably pretty confusing, isn't it?" Her voice was soothing to Johnny, as he was bursting with questions but embarrassed by how his voice made him sound weak. "Like I said," Scott added, "We weren't planning on showing up all at once, but you seem to have taken the bull by the horns, brother," he smiled. "That's pretty much in character for you." Johnny was pleased with that information. He'd hoped the person he was wasn't as unsure as he felt right now. The big man that was his father spoke. "John, we'd like to take you home. We think you'd recover much faster in familiar surroundings." Immediately, Johnny's palms prickled with sweat and his heart leaped. The thought of stepping into the unknown was like stepping directly into the black hole in his mind. Strangely, he was drawn to the idea and repulsed at the same time - the unknowns were both frightening and exhilarating. With the conflicting feelings came a rising desire to flee; he was beginning to feel crowded. A little quicker than he wanted, Johnny rose to his feet. A hand on his forearm kept him at the table, and his eyes followed the hand to his brother's face. "Johnny," Scott said calmly. "I know this is a lot to deal with. We understand, really. The last thing we want to do is push too hard." After a short hesitation, the younger Lancer nodded and slowly sat back down. He studied his fingers on the table as his brother spoke. "This isn't your home. Lancer is your home. You have to trust us on this." After a few moments, tormented sapphire eyes met with each of them at the table, one at a time, trying to find his answer. All he saw was true concern edged with sadness. It was hard to believe he was responsible for all that. They were strangers to him, but everything they said rang true. That made Johnny think of the lies that Caesar and Maria had told him and he frowned, returning his gaze to his fingers. He felt attachment to people he now knew had lied to him, yet felt nothing but a vague familiarity toward people who were his true family. What was wrong with him? He scrubbed his temple with his hand, trying stave off the pressure was building again. It would be so easy to simply relinquish control and let someone else make the decision for him, but that idea made his stomach tighten. Losing control was not an option. Johnny did not see the worried glances at the table as his body tensed with his thoughts. "How about if I take you back to the Arroyo's to get your things first?" Scott suggested quietly. "We can have some time together. Murdoch and Teresa can come later with the carriage." Relieved of having to make a decision, Johnny nodded gratefully and raised his eyes. "Murdoch and I will get the horses," Scott said, standing. "I'll meet you out front in a few minutes. Would you mind keeping Teresa company while we're gone?" Johnny looked at the pretty girl and swallowed hard, but nodded. "O-okay," he replied softly. Teresa took his hand again and smiled warmly as the other two left. "I bet you're wondering about me, aren't you? Well, you just think of me as your sister," she began. Outside, Scott verbalized his concerns. "I think it's too fast for him. The only thing that kept him at that table was determination." "I noticed," Murdoch agreed. "But there wasn't the headache we saw last night. That must be a good sign." Scott rubbed the back of his neck, trying to loosen his stiff muscles. "We don't know what's a good sign. We're all in the dark here, and I don't like it. Leave it to Johnny to push faster than we planned." "He's not one to let things lie, with or without his memory," Murdoch stated. They reached the stable and were greeted by Charlemagne and Barranca. The men stopped in the doorway, the same thought crossing their mind at the same time. Scott was the first to voice it. "I don't think Barranca is such a good idea right now, do you?" he asked. Murdoch pursed his lips for a moment. "You may be right. Teresa and I can bring him along later." Scott nodded in agreement. "I remember a barn at their place. It would be nice if you could sneak him in there so we can have a say in when Johnny sees him." Murdoch smiled a sad smile and slapped his son on the back. "Trying to get the situation back in control, huh?” He rubbed his eyes as he spoke. “Always a difficult task where your brother’s concerned.” Scott laughed shortly and nodded. "He is a challenge." Murdoch left to rent a horse from Señor Alvarado while Scott saddled Charlie. CHAPTER FOURTEEN The flash of surprise on his face was short but noticed by the three observers. When Johnny took the reins of Charlemagne from Scott, a genuine smile relaxed the features of his face almost to the point where he looked like the Johnny they all knew. "I thought you'd like to try him," Scott explained. "Th-th-thanks," the young man said softly before he turned to the tall horse and stroked the sleek bay neck. Scott mounted his rented piebald chestnut and waited patiently for his brother to climb aboard the Lancer horse. The small audience was pleased that the natural grace of Johnny Lancer was still apparent when he easily mounted the tall gelding. It took him a moment to adjust his feet in the stirrups with the soft shoes he wore. "Caesar said he had your boots somewhere, too. That will make it easier next time." Johnny threw him a happy glance and he nudged Charlie into a jog, leaving Scott scrambling to catch up. The younger man quickly brushed his temple as if pain was an afterthought. Teresa took Murdoch's elbow. They watched with satisfied grins as the pair receded down the street. "Looks like that was a good idea," Murdoch commented. "Yes," Teresa agreed. "He squirmed so much while he sat with me that someone would think he was being tortured." They turned to the stable to arrange for their own transportation to the Arroyo farm. "I guess that's what he needs - familiarity without the pressure of conversation." "Seeing Lancer would certainly fill that bill," Murdoch's ward agreed. "But he hasn't agreed to go with us yet, you know." "He will," the patriarch murmured, patting her hand. "I think Johnny's curiosity will take care of that, don't you?" Riding on the road home was exhilarating. Johnny felt free, strong and strangely in control with the powerful horse beneath him. These were feelings that he could not recall having before and he found himself relishing the idea. Brother Scott's stories of Lancer and how they met were interesting, but none of it really struck an emotional chord. It simply seemed familiar, which in turn made him curious. When the Arroyo's farm appeared at the end of their road, a pang of homesickness surprised him; which home was the feeling directed toward? Caesar Arroyo wiped his hand on his pants as he stepped from the barn, the look of surprise on his face clear from the distance. At the sight of his father, the easy smile on Johnny's face slowly disappeared along with the previous feeling of self confidence. By the time the two brothers arrived at the barn, the reality of what he was being asked to do struck the younger man deeply. Although no one had actually posed the question, he knew he was expected to choose a side. He didn't think he had the strength to do that right now and the self-confidence of just a few minutes ago was desperately missed. "Hello Juan, Señor Scott. You are here earlier than I expected." Caesar sounded a little nervous. Johnny was the first to dismount. He fiddled with Charlemagne's reins until Scott was on the ground, then took the piebald's reins without asking and fled to the barn with the horses in tow. The two men watched him depart. Scott cleared his throat and pulled his hat from his head. "Señor Arroyo. I hope we aren't bothering you, but our father and Teresa are on their way here to get Johnny's things." Caesar's eyes opened wide. "He is leaving already?" "Well, we haven't decided exactly when, but . . ." "Excuse me, Señor, but I must speak with my wife." Caesar's voice dropped to a near whisper. "She is having great difficulties with this." He wrung his hands as he chewed his lip. "I know Juan has to go, but Maria . . ." "I understand, sir," Scott replied. "Come with me, please." Caesar took the lanky blond's elbow and turned him to the house. "I think she needs to meet you." Stepping from the bright of day into the dark house caused Scott to try and blink the darkness away. Caesar had stepped away from him as soon as they entered and the sound of soft voices drew Scott's eyes to the far end of the room. After a few moments he was able to make out two forms huddled together, talking in an animated fashion in Spanish. One broke away at their entrance and slipped out of sight. Caesar motioned him to come over to the remaining woman. "This is Rosealind Alvarado. She is a friend of my Maria's. Her husband owns the livery." "Oh, yes. I've met your husband." Scott bowed shortly. "It's nice to meet you." "Gracias, Señor Lancer." She turned to Caesar. "I will give you some privacy." When the woman cut around them and eased out the door to the front porch, Caesar let out a bracing sigh. He glanced at his visitor and whispered, "Please, Señor. I fear that Maria may be . . . rude." "I understand." Hat in hand, Scott followed the man into a tiny kitchen where the small woman he remembered speaking with on the porch now sat in a chair by a dirty window. As Caesar moved to her side and knelt, Scott could hear his voice murmuring softly in the quietness of the kitchen. It's so unlike the noisy, busy kitchen at Lancer, he thought immediately after a quick glance around. After his examination, his eyes went to the window and the sight beyond and the memory of the grave came to him in a rush. When the woman began to quietly weep, Scott's heart went out to her for her loss. "Señora Arroyo," he said, taking a step toward her. "I'm sorry about your son. Caesar told me everything, and I am so sorry." "You are going to take him away, aren't you?" she wept. "You're going to take him from me!" "I am going to take Johnny where he belongs, Señora. If you look into your heart, you know it's the right thing to do. He has to go back now, don't you see?" Scott kept his voice level but firm. "Johnny can't heal without the truth. And I know you want him to heal." Caesar took his wife into his arms and rocked her gently as she wept bitter tears. Feeling like an intruder, Scott backed out of the kitchen and turned on his heel with the intention to wait outside on the porch.. "Señor," Caesar called. Scott turned his head to listen. "I brought your brother's clothes into his room for him to see. Can you . . .?" "Sure." Scott left the weeping woman and her husband and easily found the simply furnished room that Johnny had been using. The small bed was topped with a bright quilt, and the pants, shirt and hat of his brother's were neatly folded on top. He picked up the pile, smiling at the familiar sight, and left the room. When he opened the front door the first thing he saw was his brother standing at the bottom of the steps from the front porch. The wailing woman could be heard in the background and Johnny's posture was as tight as a bowstring. The loose limbed and happy man of less than an hour ago was gone. In his place was this one, whose bowed head kept his eyes locked on the ground while his thumbs, hooked in the waistband of his pants, were white knuckled with tension. "Um," Scott started. "I know we really haven't given you much time to think, but we - Murdoch, Teresa and I - were hoping to take you back to town tonight and leave for Lancer in the morning." The only response from the miserable soul was a slight tilt of the head that allowed one haunted blue eye to meet Scott's. After a moment, fine lines appeared at the eye’s corner and the blue slowly reduced to a pain induced squint. Johnny rubbed his temple roughly, but held the sideways look. “I-I h-h-h-haven’t s-s-said I’m g-g-goin’,” he said in a low and gruff voice. “Oh!” Surprised, Scott had to remind himself not to push. “Oh. Well, that’s true, too.” Awkward silence followed as the darker man dropped his eyes again for a moment. The heartbreaking sounds inside drew Johnny’s attention, and with a glance at the house, he brushed by Scott and mounted the stairs. The fair haired Lancer watched the receding back and realized his hand was half-raised in an aborted attempt to physically stop his brother. He switched the direction of the hand and ran it through his hair with an explosive sigh. “You still don’t like taking orders, do you, brother?” he said softly. Looking at the clothes hugged close to his chest, Scott decided to try that tack another time. Carefully, he set the clothes on a rickety chair next to the door and retreated to the barn. It seemed that a strategy session with Murdoch was needed for the next step – if there was going to be a next step. “He said what?” If they had been at Lancer, Murdoch’s voice would have shaken the barn walls. Here, he had his wits about him enough to keep his voice to a dull roar. “You have to admit, Murdoch, we never did ask him if he wanted to go.” Scott stood firmly with arms crossed over his chest as he tried to determine how much of his response was out of anger or surprise. Teresa looked stricken. “Oh, Scott, you don’t think he’ll want to stay, do you? He can’t . . .” “He belongs at Lancer.” Murdoch said with finality. “And the sooner we make that clear, the better.” “Clean break, right?” Scott’s voice had a sharp edge that caught the attention of both his father and Teresa. Before either of them had a chance to open their mouths, the elder Lancer brother continued. “You haven’t heard the sound of someone getting their heart torn out lately, have you?” He looked pointedly at Murdoch, and was rewarded with a confused expression from his father. “It’s not going to be a clean break, Murdoch, I’m warning you right now. Mrs. Arroyo – Maria – is a more upset about this than I realized. And we’re talking about a woman that has been a mother figure to Johnny. There must be reciprocal feelings.” “But Johnny knows where he really belongs. Caesar has even told him!” “That’s not the point, Murdoch!” Scott lowered his voice a notch when he saw Teresa wince. “Since when has knowing what’s right and actually doing what’s right been painlessly simple, one hundred percent of the time? Especially in a case like this where deep emotions are involved? You know Johnny doesn’t like to hurt innocents. And they’re all innocents here.” “I see what you’re saying, but I don’t agree that they are all innocents.” It was clear that Lancer’s patriarch was not convinced. “They stole my son and your brother, Scott. I intend to have him back.” “I don’t think Scott means to leave Johnny here,” Teresa interjected, taking Murdoch’s arm in a calming gesture. “I think he’s telling us to just be careful about how we get Johnny away. We can’t exactly force him, so we have to understand why he would stay and deal with it.” They mulled that information over for a long minute. “So, if Señora Arroyo told Johnny is was alright for him to leave that would probably solve the problem, wouldn’t it?” Murdoch set his jaw after he spoke the words. Scott bit his lip before he mused, “And there, methinks, lies the problem.” CHAPTER FIFTEEN An hour earlier, Johnny had entered the with apprehension and dread combining to make his stomach churn sickeningly. When he stepped through the doorway that separated his brother - standing in the light of day - from the people that had saved and nurtured him recently, the darkness of the interior matched exactly the feeling he got from the house. Maria's anguished howls had finally reduced to a mere keening in the undercurrent of Caesar’s soothing murmurs. Johnny sat in the kitchen with them without saying a word and fiddled with the rosary until his fingers cramped. The fact that he was the reason for her sorrow gave him a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that was becoming intolerable. He rose to get some fresh air and hopefully clear his muddled mind. As he turned to go, Maria raised her head and tried to meet his eyes. “Don’t go!” She struggled to her feet and Johnny froze, unable to run. Maria stumbled up to him and placed both of her shaking hands on either side of his face, forcing him to look at her. “Please don’t go. I love you, son. You can’t leave me!” Her pleas were soft and hoarse, her eyes swimming with tears that streaked down her face. The woman’s demeanor tore at Johnny’s heart., and he felt himself start to tremble. “I’ve done nothing but love you,” she continued, “and these people want to take you away! You belong here, mijo, with us. God gave you to us!” Tears started anew as she wrapped her arms around his stiff and shaking torso. “Do not leave. Do not leave.” Johnny tentatively returned the embrace and looked over her head to Caesar, his eyes pleading. The older man was exhausted and distraught, rubbing his eyes in a tired fashion. Eventually, he moved to his wife and put his hands on her shoulders. “It cannot be this way, Maria,” he said softly. “He has to go.” Johnny tried to let her go, but couldn’t. She started to cry softly again, her face in his chest. He let his eyes drift shut to keep his own tears back. “I did this. I’m the cause of this.” With a dry gulp, he laid his cheek on the top of her head and tried to think of something comforting to say. Her voice was soft and muffled. “You won’t leave me, will you? I need you, my son.” With his knees threatening to turn to water, Johnny lead Maria to the small divan and they sat together. He held her hand until the tears stopped. Then, Maria began to chatter about the house and what she planned for the upcoming winter season, and how she needed her men to help her. Johnny just let her talk as Caesar tried to gather his strength. After a bit Maria began to fret about the day’s meals and stood, her attitude suddenly businesslike. It was as if the last hours had never happened. Finally, Caesar spoke. “The Lancers are on their way here, Maria.” “Then it looks like we will be having company for dinner, won’t we Carlos?” She patted Johnny’s cheek then took his elbow and pulled him to his feet. “We must get started in the kitchen! I need you to bring in some wood and water for your mama.” As she led him from the room, Johnny gave Caesar a questioning glance over one shoulder. The surrogate father could only watch with a shocked expression; he’d accomplished nothing in the past day.
When Caesar entered the barn, his eyes wide, he went directly up to Murdock and apologized. "I am sorry I was not here to meet you," he said in his heavily accented English. "I am Caesar Arroyo." "Senor Arroyo, Murdoch Lancer." The big man offered his hand and they shook briefly. "This is my ward, Teresa O'Brien. We think of her as Johnny and Scott's sister." "Mr. Arroyo." Teresa gave him a smile and a little nod. "Thank you for taking care of Johnny." Caesar wrung his hands and glanced nervously at Scott. "I only wish it was turning out better." "What do you mean?" Scott felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise in alarm. "My wife. She is taking this badly. Very badly." A look passed between Murdoch and Teresa as Scott pressed for more details. "I heard her crying. Is there more?" Caesar's frustration finally erupted, and he threw his hands in the air as he began to pace a short track, back and forth. "She is demente. Not behaving correctly. She has put the boy in an impossible position." Murdoch's face turned hard. "How has she done that, may I ask?" With a bracing breath, Caesar stopped his pacing and looked the much taller man in the eye. "You son has been . . . um . . .depende on her. She will not let him stand on his own." "You mean, she's not going to let him leave without a fight, is she?" Scott concluded. "And Johnny does not want to hurt her." "That's what you were afraid of all along, wasn't it?" Teresa said quietly. Scott nodded. "Think about it. He depended on his real mother right up until she died. Somewhere inside, maybe those emotional connections are still there." "He's choosing her over me?" Murdoch asked sharply. "He's choosing what he remembers over what he's forgotten. It's safer." Scott shrugged. "But what do I know, Murdoch? This is all speculation." Mercifully, Murdoch took the information and turned it over instead of exploding. "Then he needs help remembering. Go get Barranca. It's our last card we can play here. We need to get him to Lancer - maybe the horse can tip the scale a little. Get him to come down under the pretense of a visit." Caesar nodded. "If we can get him to the barn, alone, and leave from here, that may be the way to do it. You get him down here, and I will keep Maria in the house." He looked sad plotting against his own wife. "And I have a favor. Can you take Senora Alvarado back into town? Rose has done all she can. It's time to get her home." "Sure, I'll hitch up the carriage. I'll get Barranca on my way back in about, what, two hours? Can you keep them in the house until I get the horse in the barn? We don't want Maria to get tipped off about what we're going to do." "Yes," Caesar nodded. "My wife is preparing a large meal. She should be easy to keep inside. The boy . . ." "We'll help there," Murdoch said. Teresa hugged herself with a grim expression. "I feel like I'm plotting a kidnapping or something," she said. "It's like we're tricking him." Scott patted her arm as he stepped by to get the horse hitched up. "It'll be alright, Teresa. I know what you mean, though." With Murdoch's help the horse was hitched up in no time. Caesar got Senora Alvarado together, and thanked her for trying to help. Rose clicked her tongue and shook her head sadly. "You know this will hurt Maria, Caesar. I know it has to be done, though. The boy needs to leave. Your wife, she needs to properly mourn." She smiled and laid her hand on Caesar's in a supporting manner. "I wish you luck, and you are in our prayers." The remaining trio watched the departing carriage until it reached the end of the property, then Murdoch turned toward the house. "I think it's time we met your wife, Senor Arroyo," Murdoch said with finality. Without waiting for a response, he began a long-strided walk to the house. Caesar and Teresa exchanged the same huge-eyed look of surprise for a moment then hurried to catch up. Meeting Maria Arroyo was an eerie experience. When she came into the tiny living area she was friendly and polite, talking constantly about the dinner and how nice it was to have visitors. She told Caesar to show Murdoch around the small farm, and invited Teresa to help her in the kitchen. In order to bide time until Scott's return, they did as she suggested. The Senora showed no sign of despair. Caesar and Murdoch found Johnny bringing wood for the kitchen stove to the house. "Hello, Johnny. It's good to see you looking so well." Inwardly, Murdoch was again saddened by his son's somewhat frail looking frame and pale complexion. Johnny nodded a nervous greeting, obviously taken aback by the arrival of the man that was his real father. He glanced at the wood in his arms. Caesar cleared his throat. "Put the logs by the door and come with us," he offered. Johnny nodded again. After depositing the small load he joined them in a tour of the farm that started with the barn. Caesar and Murdoch talked about crops, yields and farming in general while Johnny listened quietly. He answered questions when asked; it was not hard to tell that it still hurt to talk, and the inner turmoil he must have felt did not help much. Murdoch saw him kneading his abdomen whenever the young man felt he wasn't being watched. After about two hours, they wound up back in the main room of the small house. Maria came and went from the kitchen, bringing lemonaid and small samplings from the fields. Teresa, well aware that Scott must have returned, joined them to see what would happen next. If things went well, they would be leaving this place very soon. Teresa saw Johnny in the back of the room, shifting uncomfortably against a wall, and smiled at him. He smiled sadly in return, which made her feel sorry for him. When Scott entered the house, she knew the slight nod he gave Murdoch meant that Barranca was here, and it was time for the next step - get Johnny to the barn. Her heart began to beat faster. Maria bustled into the room, wiping her hands on her apron. "Ah, everyone is here, I see!" she said happily. Caesar moved to her side and took her arm. "Yes. It is time to pack Juan's things, my dear. They wish to take him home." The change in the small woman was instantaneous and terrifying. The smiling face was replaced with one of pure fury, barely under control. "No," she said firmly. "He is not going anywhere with you." Caesar tried to get her to sit, but she jerked her arm from his grasp and locked eyes with the big man threatening to take her son. "No!" she yelled. "You can't have him!" Murdoch's voice rose, but he still managed to keep his temper at bay. "He's not yours to keep, madam. John is coming with us." In an instant, she was to-to-toe with the much taller man, her fists clenched at her side, her face tilted up to deliver the full force of her glare. "You will have to kill me first!" she yelled. Alarmed, Scott managed to wedge himself between them in an attempt to keep the peace. "This is not the way to do this!" he said loudly. "You're right," Murdoch stated sharply. He tore his eyes from the woman's glare and found his younger son in the back of the room. "John, will you come with us, please?" Johnny was frozen against the wall, his eyes huge. "Tell them, mijo!" Maria yelled. "Tell them you are staying!" "John, let's go to the barn and talk." Murdoch took a step toward him, but Johnny put out a hand to stop him. "N-no!" he said hoarsely, and Murdoch stopped. Johnny sidled further away. "I-I-I . . ." Frustrated, he raked a hand through his hair and fixed his narrowed eyes on the floor. "Johnny," Murdoch said lowly. "Mijo!" Maria interjected in a haunting tone. "That's enough!" Scott barked at both of them. "Give him a chance, will you?" The two arguing adults glared at each other across the span of Scott’s outstretched arms. Caesar was rooted in place with shock. Teresa’s eyes were locked on Johnny. She could see him trying to catch his breath. "I-I," Johnny started again. "I C-C-CAN'T!" he finally exploded, slamming his palm against the wall behind him. Then, he raised his tormented eyes first to Murdoch and then Maria. The deep, troubled blues were swimming with emotion. "I c-c-can't," he whimpered in a barely audible choke as he slid along the wall and out of sight. When Johnny slammed his bedroom door, they all jumped. The air was thick with tension. All during the explosive interchange, Teresa had kept her eyes on Johnny, trying to see him with an objective eye. She did not like what she saw. The Johnny she knew had eyes that were bright with interest, asked questions, demanded answers, sparkled with humor and dared challenge. The eyes she saw now were hooded with apprehension and generally overwhelmed. There was a tremor to his hands she hadn't noticed before. When he exploded, she wasn't really surprised. Caesar had escorted his wife to the kitchen. Murdoch stared at the cold fireplace. Teresa quietly moved to Scott's side and kept her voice low. "I don’t think you should show him Barranca yet, Scott. I don't think Johnny can handle any more right now." Scott slipped his arm around her shoulders. "I think he'll be fine, Teresa. His reaction was actually the most Johnny-like thing I've seen yet! I think he may be coming around." "I think you're wrong. Something's not right. I can see it in his eyes. Look closer, will you?" "Teresa -" "Please, Scott? I have this horrible feeling something's going to go wrong." Hearing the worried tone in her voice, her surrogate brother pulled her into a quick hug. "All right. I'll go talk to him." She nodded in relief, fighting to keep her worried tears at bay. "Thanks." He gave the troubled girl a quick peck on her forehead and a reassuring squeeze to her hand. He left her with a posture that was more confidant than he felt, and he noticed that the hall to Johnny's bedroom seemed eerily long and dark. |
