What’s Another Dead Man? by Styzgal

.

A WHN for The Heart of Pony Alice.  No beta.  No knowledge of horses.  Just a desire for a happier ending for one four-legged character.

.

It was five long days since Johnny and Murdoch had returned home. Five long days since leaving Pony Alice with her uncle Wilf. Five long days with barely a word spoken between the two men.

The ride home had been silent, with Johnny hardly managing to grunt in reply to every attempt by his father to make conversation. This had grated on Murdoch somewhat but he did his best to understand. He assumed that his son was fretting about the little girl who had wormed her way into his heart, even though there appeared to be a ‘happy ever after’ outcome to the whole thing.

Johnny had not bothered to confirm or deny that this was the case and Murdoch had finally given up expecting him to.

Once home a backlog of work meant that there was no time for further discussion and Murdoch hoped that his youngest son would work things out given time. So far though there had been no sign of that happening as Johnny remained quiet and withdrawn.

On the sixth day Murdoch had had enough of the tension and so quietly approached the barn where he guessed Johnny would be tending to his horse after another day’s hard labour. Making sure that he was noisy enough to warn his son of his approach the hesitant father stepped into the shadows of the large barn.

Hearing softly spoken words and the rhythmic sound of brushing Murdoch moved closer to Barranca’s stall, only to stop in surprise when he realised that wasn’t where the sounds were coming from. Johnny’s usual mount stood alone looking a picture of health with his head leaning over into the neighbouring stall.

Moving along to see what Barranca was looking at Murdoch spied the object of his search, who was bent over, carefully lifting the leg of a totally different looking horse, to tend to his front left hoof. Johnny appeared oblivious to his father’s presence although Murdoch doubted that was the case. His observant son rarely tuned out the sounds of his surroundings.

As Murdoch watched, the horse turned his head and playfully nipped at Johnny’s backside, making him jump slightly. Expecting Johnny to rebuke the horse Murdoch was surprised when instead he laughed and told the horse softly to ‘quit that’.

This horse was the animal that had started the whole unfortunate chain of events with Pony Alice. Wilf Guthrie had sold him to Johnny as a sound animal while he had in fact been feeding arsenic to the horse in order to make him appear ‘fat and spunky’, as Johnny had put it.

When Johnny realised that he had been swindled he was mad enough to spit nails. Despite Murdoch’s attempt to smooth his son’s ruffled feathers the seething young man had grabbed the horse’s halter and yanked his head round, nearly knocking Jelly’s block off into the bargain.

He had then dragged the poor reluctant animal out of the corral, swearing vengeance on the horse trader who had got the better of Johnny Madrid by selling him this ‘crowbait’.

Murdoch had felt sorry for his son and understood the proud young man’s feelings at being hoodwinked. He had also felt sorry for the horse, who was totally blameless in the affair but who had to bear the brunt of his new temporary owner’s anger.

Murdoch knew that under normal circumstances his son would not treat an animal with such disregard for his welfare and that that same son would no doubt regret his treatment of the horse.

After Pony was returned to the bosom of her family (her uncle and Miss Florida) it transpired that the horse that Johnny had returned to Guthrie had not been sold along with the rest of his string. Rather than leave the animal to an uncertain future Johnny had decided to take him back to Lancer and make the best of a bad job.

Murdoch knew this had been a bitter pill for his son to swallow and he quietly admired Johnny’s soft-hearted actions. Little did he know however that since their return home Johnny had lavished care and attention on the horse in his spare time, which explained the long hours he had been spending in the barn during the evenings.

Watching Johnny work gently and willingly with the horse Murdoch felt that he understood the reason for some of his son’s unease since returning to Lancer. However, he didn’t think that was the whole story and he was determined to force his son to open up to him. In other words, he was going to attempt to get blood from a turnip!

Leaning his arms on the gate Murdoch looked over into the dim interior of the stall and opened his mouth to start the conversation and make his presence known. Before he could utter a word the soft drawl of the human occupant of the stall reached his ears.

“Murdoch.”

Just one word but, as always with Johnny, it wasn’t the word but the extra meaning that the tone implied.

“Son,” replied Murdoch, just as succinctly. Then he waited.

“Come to laugh at big bad Johnny Madrid fussin’ over his crowbait horse, huh?” Came the rather flat question. It was obvious that Johnny was feeling a little combative.

Keeping his voice calm and even Murdoch replied, “no son. I’ve come to see what’s been taking up all your spare time and why you’ve hardly said a civil word since we returned to Lancer. Only now I think I’ve figured out what the answer to one of those questions is.”

Johnny sighed and deflated just a bit, seemingly putting any confrontation on hold.

“Figured old Zeus here deserved a bit of my time. Won’t make a speck of difference to how I feel about Pony and Guthrie but it may just make the horse forget the way he’s been treated.”

“Zeus?” Murdoch queried with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah. I’d already named him Zeus in my head as I brought him home. Zeus and Zanzibar. Sounded right for a matched pair.”

The last two words were spoken with sneering sarcasm as Johnny acknowledged without actually saying it that Zeus and Zanzibar would never be ‘matched’ in any respect.

“Zeus,” mused Murdoch, “the god of the sky and ruler of the Olympian gods. A good name.”

“Don’t know about all that malarkey, just sounded right. Zanzibar and Zeus. Thought you’d enjoy yelling out those two names together as you giddied them up.” As he finished talking Johnny sighed again and lowered his head.

Murdoch thought just then that his son seemed very sad and very young. Childlike really, wanting to give his father a surprise that he wouldn’t forget.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it son. It meant the world to me that you went to all that trouble and your thoughtfulness is not lessened by the actions of a crook.” Murdoch tried his best to lift his son’s spirits.

“Plus your efforts seem to have paid off. Zeus seems content and in better condition. Good work son.”

“Thanks.” Johnny still sounded depressed and the older Lancer tried again to get to the true cause of his son’s distress.

“So, are you going to give me an answer to my second question?” Murdoch asked, trying desperately not to push too hard.

“Second question?” Queried Johnny.

“Yes. Are you going to tell me the real reason you’ve been keeping to yourself and giving everybody the silent treatment?”

“Silent treatment?” Said Johnny, obviously feigning ignorance.

“The fact that you are doing a good impression of a parrot tells me that you know exactly what I am asking John, so please don’t insult my intelligence by pretending that you don’t.”

“Parrot . . .? Aaww pfffttt!!”

Murdoch heard what sounded suspiciously like a couple of Spanish epithets, followed by a few more mumbles which he could not decipher.

“I’m waiting,” Murdoch said through clenched teeth.

A few more tense minutes ticked by but the Lancer patriarch was determined to outlast his recalcitrant son.

Finally, after more mumbling and fidgeting Johnny spoke.

“You won’t like this Old Man.”

“Well, let’s just say that I like this impasse even less.”

It appeared for a split second that once again Johnny was going to repeat and query the meaning of his father’s words, but then he seemed to think better of that idea.

“Well, you asked for it Ol’ . . . er, Murdoch.”

Another infuriating pause and then the dam appeared to burst and Johnny started to talk in a rush, as if saying it faster may make it easier to say or to hear.

“What you said about Pony and Guthrie. It being ‘happy ever after’. It ain’t and it never will be! The reason he ‘sold’ Pony was because he’s dyin’. He only has a few months left and he didn’t want that little girl to get too attached to him, only to have him die on her.”

Murdoch was shocked into silence by his son’s words and had no chance to think of a suitable response when Johnny started to speak again.

“And that ain’t even the worst of it Old Man! Do you know what Guthrie did when he found out I weren’t just plain Johnny Lancer? That I was the feared and reviled killer known as Johnny Madrid? Well, I’ll tell you. He asked me to draw on him and put him out of his misery! He wanted me to do what he didn’t have the guts to do! He said ‘what’s another dead man to Johnny Madrid?’ He damn near shot my ear off trying to goad me into drawing down on him.”

Johnny was nigh on yelling by this time. His face was red and his breath came in short pants.

Murdoch held his tongue, feeling that his son needed to get all of this out in the open in order to deal with it fully.

“Even as I walked away from him he shot at me. With all that laudanum laced whiskey in him it’s a wonder he didn’t plug me. Or maybe he intended to wing me but he missed!”

Murdoch shuddered as he thought how close his son had come to losing his life and marvelled at the restraint he had shown in a very trying situation.

Johnny was winding down but he still had more to say.

“So, after it all, after being swindled by a fast shufflin’ horse trader, not once but twice. Being beaten bloody in an unfair fight. Being hoodwinked by a ten-year-old girl. Being seen as a fool by one and all. After all this it came down to one thing – Guthrie wanted my gun. My gun! All I was good for in the end was my ability to end his miserable life! Even if that meant I would hang and that child that he had pushed so hard to get rid of would’ve ended up with nobody to care for her.

And if I had done what a lifetime of instincts and practice had prepared me for, where would that have left me? Where would that have left my soul? Don’t you see Murdoch? Once Madrid walks in the door all people see is my fast draw and anything else I am or I do just flies out the window. No matter what, it always comes down to that!”

Murdoch moved forward into the stall and stood toe to toe with his son, needing to be close so that he could make his point.

“Johnny. Son. Guthrie was a desperate man, you have to understand that. Facing death with the responsibility of a child must be awfully difficult and he needed to feel that Pony was taken care of before he could deal with his own fate.

“He had already chosen you to take care of the most precious person in his life, which means he saw what a good man you are. That had nothing to do with Madrid.

“He goaded you in front of witnesses so that you would be free of all blame. He considered the outcome for you as much as he could. He certainly didn’t allow for the fact that Pony would turn up with me and possibly see her uncle killed by one of the few people in the world that she trusted. That was a huge misjudgement on his part, but then Johnny he just wasn’t thinking straight. You said yourself he was drinking whiskey and medicine.

“Please don’t put the blame for the situation onto the shoulders of Johnny Madrid son, that would be unfair to the caring man that I know Johnny Lancer to be. You gained the trust of both that child and a man caught between a rock and a hard place. The fact that your skill with a gun became part of the solution does in no way diminish what you accomplished. Think of the good that has come out of a difficult situation and don’t obsess about the part Madrid played in its outcome. That way you do yourself a great injustice.”

Murdoch stopped, hoping he had said enough.

During this long speech Johnny had backed up slightly and bowed his head. Murdoch could see that his son had listened hard though and it was apparent that he had got through as he noted the tension dissipate from Johnny’s body.

Slowly Johnny brought his head up and Murdoch looked hopefully into the bright blue eyes of his son.

Murdoch realised he was holding his breath but he started to breathe again when he noticed that slow easy smile starting to curl Johnny’s lips. Hoping that he had read his son correctly Murdoch also started to smile and then waited to hear what pearls of wisdom Johnny would now come out with.

The ex-gunfighter lowered his gaze and for a moment the expression in his eyes was hidden away by long inky lashes.

Then a slight chuckle escaped his lips and he looked up.

“You wanna add anything else oh Wise One or are you done?”

“No son, nothing to add. To be honest, my throat’s a bit dry after all that talking and I’m in need of some lubrication.”

Johnny nodded slowly and appeared to concede defeat.

“OK papi, I hear what you’re sayin’ and I get it, I really do. Few men are all good or all bad. Good men get pushed into bad situations and make bad decisions. Bad men are sometimes not as bad as they seem, even gunfighters. And Johnny Lancer deserves a bit of credit for how things turned out. Does that just about cover it?”

“Yes, that pretty much sums it up,” said Murdoch, trying hard not to react to the word papi, which he hadn’t heard for over twenty years from the man standing in front of him.

Zeus chose this moment to turn his head and gently lip Johnny’s hair.

This caused Murdoch to throw his head back and laugh out loud.

“Well, that horse sure thinks you’re one of the good guys.”

“Yeah, he’s a gentle soul. I don’t think he’s been mistreated, just worked real hard. I reckon the ranch ninos could safely hitch a ride on the old fella if they’ve a mind to. It’d give him a sense of purpose to show the little ‘uns how to trust one of his kind.”

“And I know another gentle soul who will do his best to make that happen.” Replied Murdoch as he put his arm around Johnny’s shoulder and steered him out of the barn and towards a good belt of ‘lubrication’.

.

.

~ end ~
14 December 2017

.

PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT
Thank you for reading! The authors listed on this site spend many hours writing stories for your enjoyment, and their only reward is the feedback you leave. So please take a moment to leave a comment.  Even the simplest ‘I liked this!” can make all the difference to an author and encourage them to keep writing and posting their stories here.  You can comment in the ‘reply’ box below or Email Styzgal directly.

.