Welcome To Genesis – Revisited by Buckskin

Word Count 19,717

A special thanks to Chris and Rob for the encouragement and great ideas!

Episode tag for  Welcome To Genesis

.

Sometimes you made out in a deal, and sometimes you didn’t; this was one of those ‘didn’t’ times.

The price was not what they had hoped for, but the deal was made, and now the Lancers were headed home — minus the mules, ornery, stubborn critters that they were, but with a little cash in their pockets and a better grasp on their tempers.

Funny, Johnny thought, some mules really brought out the worst in a fella.

Murdoch felt the disappointment that emanated from his sons as they navigated through the highs and lows of ranching and thought to ease what they considered a failure. “Look at it this way, boys, the loss we took was nothing compared to the time and money it would have taken to feed that stock this winter, then having to round them up again in the spring. We were lucky to get what we did for them. Let’s forget about this venture and move on because it’s done and not worth the aggravation.”

He gauged the differing reactions in Scott and Johnny. Scott was angry, wanting to argue with the buyer, convinced that if they held off longer, the buyer would come around and pay Lancer’s asking price. Murdoch could sense Harlan Garrett’s influence in Scott’s reluctance to let go, hoping for more money. Although not particularly pleased with their situation, the father tightened the smile lines that longed for release. He doubted Scott would find humor in any of this.

Johnny accepted the fact that this loss was not worth the fight. A few head of stock would not put Lancer in the poor house, and now he seemed alright to move past the fact that Lancer lost out, but only a little. Murdoch thought perhaps it was a matter of ‘picking one’s battles.’ Was this transaction worth the fight? Murdoch thought not.

“Hey, Boston, those mules are gone; let it go.” Veiled with a snort of humor, Johnny was willing to put this venture behind them, hoping to nudge Scott along that path.

“Well, boys, we’d better settle in for the night. We’ve got a long way to go tomorrow.” Murdoch stood and stretched, then stooped by the fire. “Anyone want more coffee?”

“No, sir,” Scott answered. “If I drink anymore, it will be enough to keep me up and thinking about losing that stock!”

Johnny smirked. “Take it easy, Boston; it’s only money. No, thanks, Murdoch, no mas for me.”

The sky filled with clouds; the wind picked up as rumbles of thunder higher in the mountains signaled possible rain headed their way. The horses tied on the string line just out of camp whinnied and pranced a nervous dance. Johnny threw the bedroll aside to see what had them in a pucker when Murdoch, not yet in his blanket, told him to stay where he was.

With a smile, Murdoch turned to his younger son. “I can check them out, Johnny, unless you don’t think the ‘old man’ is capable!”

Johnny relaxed but watched closely should there be trouble; he and Scott would be ready… for anything.

Murdoch approached the horses and spoke quietly, doing his best to calm them, and where their distressed neighs stopped, the prancing did not. Large eyes rolled in their sockets, alerting the senior Lancer that something was out in the night.  Something the horses thought menacing. And then he heard it; the snarl of the cat, and it was close, too close… then it happened — the cat launched into the air and onto Murdoch Lancer’s chest as he was slammed to the ground with the force of a locomotive engine.

He was robbed of breath as it rushed out of his lungs in a hiss of pain, and he could not draw air back in as the weight on his chest and the pain took over his body. The huge feline sunk two-inch claws into Murdoch’s flesh and ripped gaping slashes along his ribs as deadly fangs went for his throat. Murdoch fought with every shred of muscle and power he could muster, and even as a surge of strength flowed through him, he knew he would lose this fight. But he would not give up — he couldn’t!

The cat’s scream shattered the night; Murdoch’s pained howl filled Scott and Johnny with icy dread that propelled them out of their bedrolls with Colts drawn and ready to fight. To defend Murdoch. To save him! Panic seized them at the sight of their father, covered in blood, rolling across the ground with a mountain lion that nearly matched his length, and triggered the instinct to shoot… but they couldn’t. They couldn’t risk hitting Murdoch.

Scott fired into the air — would it be enough to scare it off? The startled beast released its jaws from its prey just as Johnny’s bullet found its mark, and it fell across Murdoch’s chest; one hundred and seventy pounds of crushing dead weight.

They rushed toward their father; Scott felt Murdoch’s neck for a pulse as Johnny wrestled the carcass off the old man and out of the way. Together, they ripped the shredded shirt from Murdoch’s body and inspected the damage; it was serious; the blood flow was alarming as it gushed out gaping wounds and over shredded skin, covering Murdoch’s torso in a crimson flood. With fingers cold from fear, the Lancer brothers worked to stem the blood loss and save their father’s life, then battled against the fear that threatened to overpower their minds and imaginations.

“Johnny, it’s bad! We have to get him to a doctor, now!”

“There’s a town not far from here; c’mon, let’s go!”

It was a struggle, but after wrapping Murdoch with bandages as best they could, Scott and Johnny eased him into the wagon bed. Had it been fate that they brought the wagon? Both had scoffed at the idea, but Murdoch insisted for some reason. Now they were relieved the ‘tune caller’ had his way.

Tying their horses to the tailgate, Scott drove as Johnny climbed in the back to tend Murdoch as they traveled toward Genesis.

<><><><><> 

Genesis, the first book of the Bible… was that a good omen? Scott wondered. He prayed they would arrive in time to get Murdoch the help he needed. They had to! Turning on the seat, Scott watched as Johnny fought to steady the ride of being tossed about as they drove on the rough road. Murdoch’s wounds still oozed, but they were able to stop the worst of the bleeding; Johnny held the ol’ man against his chest, Murdoch’s back to Johnny’s front, and wrapped his arms around Murdoch’s torso to still the worst of the movement.

Their hearts thundered in their chests, and throats were dry as dust as emotions ran wild, but they fought against their panic and vowed to keep their father alive; they would do whatever was required to pull Murdoch through. Whatever it took… And having no idea about the fight ahead, they kept going… for their father.

“Johnny, are you alright back there?”

“Just keep drivin’, Scott; I’ll manage.”

Scott almost smiled at the stubborn resolve he heard in his brother’s voice. Johnny Madrid was on duty, and Lieutenant Lancer was at the helm. Would they be the unbeatable duo to save their father? They would do their absolute best.

They had traveled an hour when lights from Genesis filtered through the dark.

<><><><><> 

It was late. Sarah Lockwood was ready to call it a night and send her son, Billy, off to bed. The checkers’ game sitting between them could wait until tomorrow. Billy needed his rest; although the accident at the mine that crippled his leg was four years prior, he wasn’t at his strongest. She hoped and prayed that a doctor could operate and make him well. Genesis had no doctor and knew it was a dream, but she held onto the hope and would never let it go. To her, after Billy, hope was everything.

What was that? A noise from the street took her to the window to check below. A wagon pulled to a halt in front of her store; a shout from outside brought her downstairs.  She called over her shoulder, “Billy, stay there.  Don’t come downstairs until we know who it is and what they want.”

Scott went to the door after the inside lights indicated someone was there, and he pounded on the weathered wood; this was not the knock of a social call.

Alarmed about what or who she would find, she kept the door closed between them.

“Who are you, and what do you want?” Sarah called through the barrier.

“Ma’am, we need help! Please!”

There was a desperate tone in that voice, and she stepped out of the store and onto the boardwalk. Sarah watched the man she’d spoken with through the protection of the door as he now stood by the side of the wagon; another man in the wagon bed tended to a third covered in blood on the face and clothing; he was badly hurt. She had to help them if she could. Sarah knew what it was like to desperately need help.

Lifting the lamp to cast a light on the visitors, Sarah asked, “What is it?”

“Ma’am, could you help us? We need a doctor; our father’s been hurt,” Scott answered.

Sarah stepped forward, seeing the lines of worry on the two faces before her, then turned to the large man lying in the wagon. “What happened to him?”

“He was mauled by a cougar, ma’am, an’ we need a doctor.” The tone of both voices told of their desperate situation and determination to find medical help.

“We have no doctor here; the closest one is in Cold River, fifteen miles away!” Her heart was breaking for them; they were in serious need of medical attention, and the man lying close to death in the wagon would not survive that trip.

“He ain’t gonna make it without a doctor, Scott.” Johnny held his brother’s stare at the realization that Murdoch could bleed out or die of infection; they needed to act now before it was too late.

Sarah felt a prickle in the air as the two men exchanged intense stares as if she were standing outside in a storm when lightning struck, making the hair on her arms stand on end. A powerful force arced between them, not unlike standing out in that thunderstorm.

“I live above the store. I’ll get a room ready, and you bring him up. You can tend him here!” Sarah turned into the building, going about the task while Scott and Johnny carefully wrestled Murdock out of the wagon and up the narrow staircase to the second floor.

Once they settled Murdoch into a bed, Johnny turned toward the door. “I’m ridin’ for the doctor.” And not waiting for a response, the younger Lancer was out the door and down to the boardwalk, leaving Scott and Sarah Lockwood to tend Murdoch as best they could while he hunted for medical help.

Scott listened as Barranca’s pounding hoofbeats quickly faded into the night. Would Johnny find the doctor and get him back in time to save Murdoch? He could only hope his brother was able to pull it off. If the circumstances were not so dire, Scott would have laughed. Johnny was on a mission and would not let anything stand in his way. Not anything! And Scott was glad for his brother’s obstinate determination now.

Sarah put a clean bowl of water on the table beside the bed and began washing away the grime and blood from the pale face; the man remained unresponsive, and Sarah wondered if he would regain consciousness. Her touch was tender as she ministered her care to the injured stranger.

Scott watched as she repeatedly rinsed the cloth in the basin to wipe away remnants of the battle with the cougar and smiled as she gently picked a small twig from Murdoch’s hair.

“I- I’m sorry, I’m Scott Lancer. That was my brother, Johnny, that left, and my father,” he motioned with his hand toward the man in the bed, “Murdoch Lancer. Mrs. …?” Scott had forgotten his manners in his haste to get Murdoch settled into bed and wait for Johnny to get back with a doctor.

Sarah smiled. “Lockwood, Sarah Lockwood,” she said, looking up at Scott while she tended to his father. “It’s nice to meet you; I wish it was under different circumstances, but it can’t be helped.”

Her smile meant to help ease Scott’s stress, went unnoticed. His eyes were fixed on his father.

<><><><><> 

Johnny urged Barranca faster, and the golden horse delivered. They flew over the road as if on wings, determined to find the closest doctor to save Murdoch’s life. How long had they been traveling? Johnny’s mind spun out of control with unanswered questions. Just keep goin’! They had to be in time! Why would God let Murdoch die when they had just begun their lives together? Torn apart from nearly the beginning but now living as a family — That would be cruelty at its worst to take Murdoch from them now. And it all depended on speed. How fast could he find the doctor and return with him to Murdoch’s side? Dammit, Murdoch, hang on!

All his life Johnny had hated Murdoch Lancer. Hated the name and everything about him; he’d wanted to put a bullet in the ol’ man’s head, and now, all Johnny could think about was to find a doctor and return to Murdoch’s side, be there when the man opened his eyes again and hear the doctor say everything would be all right.

Faster, Barranca!

Keep him alive, Boston!

Fight, Murdoch! Dammit, fight!

Johnny Madrid Lancer would not fail his father, nor would Barranca, as he sensed the urgency that emanated from his compadre. There was nothing except Johnny, Barranca, the night, and what-ifs.

<><><><><> 

She’d been at it for hours now, wiping down the dry skin and doing her best to keep him cool, and if she was honest, her back was aching with the effort, but she refused to stop. And that wasn’t all. Scott’s pacing back and forth across the floor, then to the window to look down at the street, was distracting. Though she understood his anxiousness, she wished he would sit down.

“You should get some sleep. I’ll get you a blanket, and you can sleep on the couch in the living room.” Had he heard her? He didn’t answer. “He’s going to be alright; I know he is.” Did she know it, or was it wishful thinking? She didn’t know, but if it helped Scott, she would say it again. Her smile came through in her words, and she chastised herself for wishing Scott would sit. Sarah had been in that ‘anxious’ place and knew what it was to wait — to wait and not know.

Then he answered. “You’re the one that needs rest. Why don’t you lie down? You’ve been sitting there for hours now.” He turned to study her face; what did he see there? Was it hope?

She smiled. “Then, why don’t I make us some coffee? We could be in for a long wait.” With one last rinse, Sarah Lockwood placed the cloth in the bowl. “I’ll get fresh water and bring it up after the coffee is on.”

<><><><><> 

Cold River was quiet, but then, it was late. There was no doctor’s office in sight which prompted Johnny to ride to the sheriff’s office. He jumped from the saddle as Barranca skidded to a stop in a cloud of billowing dust; Johnny barged through the door and slammed it behind him, jarring the sheriff from sleep.

Startled, the sheriff took in the man before him. “What can I do for ya, young fella?” From the look in the young man’s eyes, it was serious, whatever ‘it’ was.

“Sheriff, I need a doctor. Where is he?”

The sheriff smirked, disregarding whatever had happened and knowing that the ‘doctor’ wasn’t going anywhere, no matter the serious nature. “Right there,” nodding to the man in the cell. “What’d ya want him for?”

Johnny looked at the man locked behind bars, not caring why he was there, only that he was needed in Genesis. Disregarding the sheriff, Johnny walked to the cell as the man within leaned casually across the uncomfortable bunk, reading a newspaper.

“Doc, I need your help. My father was mauled by a cougar; he’s in bad shape, lost a lotta blood, an’ there ain’t a doctor where we took him.” Johnny intentionally dismissed the sheriff and walked past him to the locked cell where the doctor was caged.

Completely disregarded and feeling threatened, the sheriff protested. “Sorry, we don’t have a doctor here. What’s your name?”

Johnny glared at the lawman. “Name’s Lancer; what’s it matter? An’ what’d ya mean there’s no doctor here?” Time was wasting, and the sheriff was telling him there wasn’t a doctor there, yet the man was right in front of him.

The man in the cell set the paper aside. “Technically speaking, Mr. Lancer, I am under arrest for practicing medicine without a license.”

Johnny noted the sheriff’s disgust; under any other circumstances, he might have had a little fun knowing his arrogance set the sheriff’s teeth on edge. But not now. Not today. There was no time for it.

“Banning, when you get to prison, that’s gonna be a mighty big technicality!”

Banning laughed, then stood before Johnny with the steel bars between them. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lancer; your father’s condition sounds critical—”

“There’s a doctor in Sand Junction,” the sheriff offered.

“Sand Junction? That’s forty miles away! It’ll be too late for that!” Scenes from just hours ago flashed through Johnny’s mind of Murdoch lying still, unconscious on the ground, bleeding out from the grisly mauling.

Banning smirked again and leaned his arms on the bars of the cell. “But he has a license. You’ll probably find him in the saloon, and if not there, try the mortuary. He’s also the undertaker.”

Johnny’s patience was fraying… rapidly. “Banning, how much do you really know about medicine?” If the man didn’t have a license, did he know enough? Would he be worth breaking out of jail and dragging back to tend Murdoch?

“Well, I practiced here in Cold River for six years without any complaints. I was on retainer for Judah Abbott. Look at it this way, Mr. Lancer, diploma or no diploma, license or no license, I’m more of a doctor than your father has now or is likely to get to do him any good.”

The sheriff huffed. “Let me tell you what this man did for Judah Abbott! He operated on Mr. Abbott’s son an’ left him a cripple!” Lancer should know what had happened — what Doctor Banning did. Who’d want him looking after anyone?

In defense, Banning added what the sheriff ignored. “If I hadn’t operated, the boy would be dead right now…”

Johnny had had enough; he made his decision. “Sheriff, ya gotta come with us. My father’s gonna die without help. Now, I’m askin’ you to do the right thing.” Suddenly Johnny was questioning doing things the ‘right’ way, especially after the sheriff’s reply.

“Mr. Abbott would skin me alive if I let that man out of that cell—”

“An’ if ya don’t, I’ll do more’n skin you alive. Get the keys, sheriff. Now!” And it was Johnny Madrid that drew his Colt and pointed it in the sheriff’s face. “I’m outta patience, now get the fuckin’ keys and let him out!”

“You better be real sure of this, boy. Ya don’t want Judah Abbott after ya, an’ if you take Banning, he’ll come down on you like the wrath of God!”

“Sheriff, I don’t much care who this Judah Abbott is an’ at this point, I don’t give a damn about who you are. An’ right now, I don’t care about the wrath of God, cuz ya know why? God’s wrath is comin’ down on your head an’ Abbott’s if my father dies! All I know is this man can help an’ with, or without your permission, he’s goin’ with me ta Genesis. Get in the cell an’ shuddup.”

The exchange was made; Johnny locked the sheriff in the cell. “Sheriff, ya gave me no choice, but I give ya my word, when this is over, I’m brin’ him back.” Madrid turned his stare at Banning, “An’ don’t you get the idea that ya ain’t comin’ back here cuz ya are.”

As the keys jangled in the lock and Johnny gave his word to the sheriff, saying he’d return the prisoner to the cell behind him, Banning quietly walked toward the door… and freedom.

Johnny’s voice raised in the chill night air of the office, “Banning!”

The man stopped and shrugged. “Can’t blame me for trying,” and he turned to face hungry blue steel. Walking back into the room, he murmured, “I have to say I like your style.” There was no response from the man that held the Colt.

Banning again walked toward the door, then halted at Johnny’s words.

“Banning, stop where ya are. I’d hate ta hafta shoot ya, an’ I will, make no mistake about it. But you’ll live, at least long enough ta take care of my ol’ man.” Johnny swept handcuffs off the top of the desk and tossed them at Banning, who reluctantly snapped them around his wrists.

Casually, tinged with cold sarcasm, Banning announced, “I’ll need my bag.”

And with the same casual chill, Johnny said, “Then get it.”

<><><><><> 

“I’ll get more water…” The waiting was agonizing, and Scott felt helpless. But what else could he do?

Sarah watched the young man as the worry consumed him and realized she had two patients — the man in the bed and the son watching as his father burned with fever. All she could offer him was hope, and Sarah Lockwood was filled with hope; she had to be. She would have crumbled in despair and died four years ago without it. But she wasn’t going to let herself off that easily. No, she had too much work to do; she would struggle through, throw herself into that work and pull Scott Lancer away from the edge that had come so close to destroying her.

She offered a beautiful smile and words of encouragement. Scott appreciated her efforts to ease his anxieties — those pessimistic, sinister thoughts that somehow reached his heart and mind and took root, making Scott wonder when he’d lost control. He leaned on the window frame, looking at the street below, willing Johnny to ride into town with a doctor. Where are you, brother? He watched Sarah as she relentlessly tended Murdoch.

Sensing the eyes on her, Sarah turned to Scott. He was worn out; worry and waiting will do that to man, and she made a suggestion. “Billy’s room is across the hall; why don’t you get some rest? I’ll call you as soon as your brother comes back.” Again, the cloth went into the bowl of cool water, was rung out, then gently wiped across Murdoch’s brow. She tested the temperature of the pale cheek and neck. It wasn’t any cooler, but neither was it warmer. Sarah felt she needed to say something to ease the troubled son’s mind. “His fever isn’t any worse, Scott. Hold onto that. He isn’t getting worse.” What could she say before he believed her… or she believed it herself? Hope! Never give up!

A smile graced her lips, making Scott glad she was there with him. She was not a beautiful woman, but there was beauty around her, within her, that went a long way in soothing the troubling thoughts that plagued him. And he thought it was she that needed the rest. At least he was able to move around — she’d been sitting, bent over Murdoch, reaching across his broad body, attempting to cool him down– for hours.

Another smile, then “I’ll make us both some coffee. Will that settle it?”

Scott was at a loss for words but knew he needed to say something to her for her kindness; there was no doubt in his mind that Murdoch would not have made it through the night without Sarah Lockwood’s help.

Scott left the window, visibly unsettled, as he moved from here to there around the room. “I don’t know how to thank you, Mrs. Lockwood. Murdoch’s… it’s been hard… seeing him injured. He’s a strong man, a proud man, and with him down, sick, it’s…” he paused to draw a shaky breath, “I… we haven’t been… a family very long,” Scott hesitated, wanting to let Sarah know how much he appreciated her efforts. Still, he was not in the habit of telling the family history to strangers. But, for some reason, Sarah felt… safe. She was a comfort and not a threat.

“Circumstances prevented Johnny and me from growing up with our father, and now that we’re together, I guess you could say that the thought of being torn apart is not anything we could accept. I don’t know how we could ever repay you for your kindness.” Was it enough? The words didn’t seem adequate as he said them, but he saw her face change as she listened, and Scott knew she understood. The woman had lost her husband, and her son was crippled; she knew. 

“Don’t,” she said softly. “I know what it’s like to sit and wait… pray. Everyone in Genesis knows. We had a cave-in at the mine four years ago; all our menfolk were lost, and my little boy was crippled. Genesis is just a town full of widows now… widows and children.”

Scott bowed his head; his heart broke for her loss; he saw her memories when he looked at her, witnessed a strength that he doubted she knew she possessed.

“I’ll make us that coffee now.” Then she left him alone with his father.

The distraction of making coffee helped Sarah gather her thoughts. She checked the supply of bandages, then took them up to the sick room with the fresh coffee and cups. She stopped at the door and stood quietly when she heard Scott speaking, the soft, pleading words of a distraught son talking to his father whose life hung by a fragile thread. She desperately wanted to stay, moved to near tears by the private admissions of that son not knowing if his father would live through the day, but knew she had no business intruding on these intimate thoughts, and she left, leaving Scott in that awful limbo she knew all too well.

<><><><><> 

“I want you to bring Banning back.” It was not a request — it was a command. “You bring him back real fast, or you can look for other work.” Judah Abbott called the shots; there was no law but Abbott law. He was the judge, jury, and executioner.

“I hear ya, Mr. Abbott. I brought ‘im in once, an’ I’ll get ‘im back. I’ll have all the boys out lookin’ for him….”

“You bring them both back, you hear? I want them both!”

The sheriff’s spine wilted; a willow sapling with not enough strength to withstand the breeze. Though he kept eye contact, he nodded his head passively. Then with a wicked, blazing glare, the mighty Judah Abbott whirled around and stomped out of the office, leaving Sheriff Troupe to wonder why he put up with the abuse. There had to be a better way to make a living.

Troupe thought about getting Banning back from Lancer. The young man looked like a gunhawk… Abbott on one side — gunhawk on the other. Yup, there had to be a better way to make a living…

Abbott stomped across the boardwalk to his buggy with the fine leather-covered seats; the residents cleared the way, not wanting to risk a confrontation with him. The man was formidable on a good day; today, he looked like a bear with a sore paw. Abbott got in the buggy, and with a slap of the reins and a harsh “Giddup,” Mr. Judah Abbott drove out of town.

<><><><><> 

The homestead was abandoned, but there was water in the well. Banning splashed it over his face, tipped his head back, and enjoyed the chill as it sluiced down his neck reviving and refreshing.

Johnny watched, was always watching. He wasn’t going to take any chances of letting the man slip away. Slip away… Was Murdoch… slipping away? Get a holda yourself, Johnny!

He shook the notion out of his head, and his eyes settled on Banning’s doctor’s bag sitting on the edge of the well. It was old; he’d seen only one other like it. It belonged to an old doctor who’d been practicing many years before Johnny was born.

“Ain’t seen a bag like that in a long time….”

Banning dried his face on his handkerchief. “Forty-six years. I should have thrown it away a long time ago.” Then he shrugged, raised his hands, examined his wrists securely cuffed, and sighed. “Lancer, take these off.”

“Not’ll we get there.” There was no way in hell Johnny was going to risk letting Banning escape.

“You might as well take them off and let me go. Look, Troupe was right; I’m a fraud. I can’t help your father.” Banning wondered if he could talk his way out and convince Lancer to let him go. He had to try.

Johnny turned cold eyes on the ‘doctor’s’ face. “That ain’t what cha said back in Cold River, an’ I don’t believe you now.”

“I was in jail back then,” Banning persisted as if the statement would make any difference now.

“An’ my ol’ man’s still layin’ in bed, torn ta shreds! Whatever happened back there n that town is between you an’ them.”

“No, it’s between me and you. Look, take the fast horse; you can get to Sand Junction — the doctor there is good. What I said about his drinking was for the sheriff.”

“Nope, ya said yourself that you’re as much of a doctor as we’ll likely find. Mount up. We’re leavin’… now.” Johnny picked up the bag and followed Banning to the horse, waiting for him to get settled. His thoughts centered on getting to Murdoch as fast as possible; he untied the reins, making the mistake of turning his back. Banning leaned down with cuffed hands and wrapped the chain around Johnny’s neck.

Johnny dropped the bag and quickly reached for the hands, trying to cut off his air supply. He cursed his carelessness, letting his mind linger on Murdoch instead of his prisoner. He bent at the waist and pulled Banning out of the saddle as they tumbled on the ground. Banning blocked Johnny’s tackle, and they rolled; Banning recovered first, got to his feet, then tossed a handful of dirt into Johnny’s eyes, nearly dropping him to his knees with the attack.

Banning stunned Johnny with a double-fisted blow to his unprotected belly and a second to his jaw; he fell as Banning ran for the horse.  Suddenly the doctor realized that his bag was lying on the ground. He had to have that bag… and went back for it. Then mounted the horse.

The delay gave Johnny time to shake off the brutal blows, blink away what dirt he could from his eyes, then launch himself at Banning and pull him off the animal before escaping.

And now Madrid was mad. The staggering blows sent Banning to the ground, where he lay gasping for air and wiping the blood from his lip on his hand. His eyes met those of Johnny Madrid… and the barrel of the Colt pointed at his head. “Well, I guess I go to Genesis…” he acquiesced as he caught his breath.

“You’re damned right you’re gonna! An’… I wouldn’t try that again if I was you. Now mount up!” Johnny panted as, once again, he got Banning into the saddle. “Oh, an’ just so ya know, I got no problem tyin’ ya ta the saddle, so don’t do nothin’ stupid… Doc.”

<><><><><> 

Genesis was quiet, but then, it had been for the last four years. Johnny rode to the hitchrail in front of the post office and general store, covering Banning as he dismounted and stepped onto the boardwalk.

“In here.”  He shepherded Banning inside.

Billy Lockwood stood on his crutches to the side as Scott pounded down the stairs with Sarah right behind him. Johnny could only hope… “How is he?”

“Not too good…” Scott announced as he watched in concerned confusion as Johnny took the key from his pocket and unlocked the cuffs on the doctor’s wrists.

Sarah Lockwood was shocked. Who was that man? A doctor wearing handcuffs?

“Upstairs, Doc, an’ don’t forget, I’ll be watchin’ your every move an listnin’ ta everything ya say. An’ I’m right between you an’ the back door.” Johnny offered a chilling grin.

“Sarah, would you show him the way, please?” Scott asked.

“Right this way….” Banning followed Sarah up the stairs.

Scott turned to his brother. “What’s that all about?”

Without meeting Scott’s eyes, Johnny followed the pair upstairs, anxious to see Murdoch. “I’ll tell ya later,” directed at Scott’s tired and worried face.

<><><><><> 

He straightened the covers under Murdoch’s chin. “Well, someone did a fine job controlling the bleeding,” Banning announced.

“That was Mrs. Lockwood,” Scott said, stepping forward to volunteer the information. Johnny hadn’t uttered a sound since entering. He watched, trying to decide if Murdoch looked any better.

Surprised, Banning asked, “Have you been trained as a nurse?”

Her modesty took over, and she answered with a slight shrug and smile. “Oh, no.”

Banning looked at Scott and Johnny, both wrapped in a shroud of worry. “He’s unconscious because of a concussion, but I’m not concerned about that. There are four or five broken ribs… badly broken. One of them might puncture a lung.” Part of doctoring was delivering bad news. He’d gotten used to that lately, and it was that bad news that landed him in jail, courtesy of Judah Abbott.

Johnny frowned. “What does that mean?” This wasn’t good.

Banning was brutally honest. “It means he could drown in his own blood.”

The statement couldn’t have shocked him more than if he’d been gut punched. Johnny was desperate for an answer. “An’ just how do ya find out?”

“I can’t,” Banning said as he stood and closed his bag.

Johnny knew Banning was playing a game, and Madrid was having no part of it. No games, not with Murdoch’s life at stake. The desperation gave way to anger. “A real doctor could, is that it?”

Scott was stunned. “You mean he’s not a doctor?”

Scott glared at his brother.

“No, he was all I could find.” Johnny sighed. “Well, what would a real doctor do ta make sure?”

Banning wiped his hands on a towel, looked at Johnny, then said, “He’d operate.”

What other choice did they have? And Johnny asked the question. “Can you?”

“Johnny!” Scott couldn’t believe his brother. How could Johnny even think it was a possibility? This was Murdoch in that bed, and Banning was no doctor!

Johnny’s mind was scrambling. There was something more to Banning than what he wanted them to believe; what was it?

“No, I couldn’t operate.” That was it; no other explanation.

But Madrid was ready to fight — fight for Murdoch’s life. “Why not?” He raised his voice as he stubbornly refused to take Banning’s word.

“You know why!”

“Why not?” Johnny persisted. “Because you don’t have that piece of paper, that license? Is that it? You’re a fraud?” Madrid’s temper was running, but he knew he was getting to the heart of Banning’s deception. “Then why didn’t ya run away when ya had the chance?”

Banning turned away, not wanting to face the question… or the man.

Johnny grabbed the old doctor’s bag and roughly held it out; the contents inside rattled together. “Ya came back for this! You could buy another one for just a few dollars, something fancy enough ta match them fancy clothes — what’s so important about this bag?” Johnny pushed it toward Banning.

Banning eyed the bag with something between betrayal and reverence.

Madrid had had enough. He pushed the bag into Banning’s chest. “Take it — you’re gonna operate.”

Scott watched the exchange as trepidation flooded over him, but when he heard his brother insist that Banning operate, he knew he had to speak up. “Johnny! What are you doing? If he’s not a doctor, Murdoch could die under his knife! What are his chances?” Scott had to make his brother understand. This was their father! “Johnny, think about it!”

Could he make Scott understand? Brother making brother understand their places at opposite ends of the argument. Johnny was ready to risk it all if there was a shred of hope, but Murdoch would die regardless without that risk.  He met his brother’s eyes. “I have thought about it, Scott; Murdoch’s got no chance if the doc doesn’t operate an’ there ain’t time ta go lookin’ for someone else. The closest doctor’s forty miles away… Banning has ta do it.”

Scott weighed the choices and didn’t like either one. What other option was there? He hadn’t wanted to make that decision; Johnny had taken the decision away and made it for him unless Scott could come up with a solid reason against Banning operating on Murdoch, and he couldn’t. One wrong move and a rib could easily puncture a lung. Did he have a choice?

Madrid had lived a life making critical, split-second decisions, and there had never been one more desperate than this one they faced now. Suddenly he knew; knew it was the only option left open to them. Scott nodded, then stood in solidarity with Johnny. “You’re right.”

Johnny turned to Banning. “So, what do ya need? Bandages, towels, hot water… what?”

The voice was firm, leaving Banning no other path to travel… except one. He walked to the side of the bed, his eyes reading the patient that clung to life by a thread; his mind swirled. The realization hit him that he could not control what was to happen, but he would try his best to guide the outcome to his patient’s benefit… and his. All he could do was to try. Neither of the young men before him would let him get away with much. They were in a vulnerable state, facing the very real possibility of their father’s death; vulnerability placed them both on the edge of balancing that fine line — the choice of Murdoch living or dying. And Banning had no second thoughts about holding them hostage. They might be the ones holding the weapons, but he, Banning, could hold all the cards if he played them right. And he wouldn’t hesitate to pull an ace out of his sleeve.

“I might help you out if….”

“If what?” Both Johnny and Scott stood together, united.

“Well, first, I’m not going back to Cold River. I save him — you save me. Second, there’s a question of money. I expect to be paid for my professional services, and I don’t mean with a basket of fruit or a side of bacon. I figure a fair price would be….”

Scott stepped forward. He was not about to haggle with this man who wasn’t a doctor, listen to demands, wasting time as Murdoch was lying in bed fighting for his life! “Mister, I don’t know what kind of arrangement you could possibly have made with my brother, but I don’t have an arrangement with you.” He struggled to keep control. His breathing became harsh, and his voice cracked with emotion; it was a side of Scott that was rarely seen but building rapidly. Patience was gone; anger and annoyance were taking center stage.

He fought through the temptation and managed to tell Banning in no uncertain terms how things would be. “I only know one thing, and that is he’s dying,” Scott’s hand pointed to his father, then in a smooth motion, let his hand drop to his side; he wrapped his fingers around the butt of the Colt on his hip, drew it out of the holster, cocked it and aimed it at Banning’s head. “And if you don’t get to work and save him, I’ll deliver you back to Cold River, feet first if I have to.”

His bluff was called; Banning had no choice. Well, he had no ace in his sleeve to play anyway.

Had the situation not been serious, Johnny would have laughed — his usually reserved Boston-bred brother was walking a path Madrid had traveled many times. A slight tug at the corner of his mouth signaled the pride he felt in his brother. But there was no time for that now. It was time to save Murdoch’s life… if they could.

<><><><><> 

Judah Abbott was livid. He slammed his hand on top of the chair as he ranted in the quiet of his son’s room. “How could that Sam Troupe let a man walk in there and take Banning away from him? And Banning… Banning should be lynched for what he did to you!” Judah rounded the bed and stood over Josh as he lay helpless and paralyzed, incarcerated in this prison of linens and pillows.

How many times had his father vented his anger, ranted relentlessly over the circumstances that ultimately confined Josh to the bed, unable to walk? Josh just wanted to be left alone, to deal with the disability that made him spend the rest of his life living with useless legs. But his father kept the rage alive and supplied the fire that burned within him with a constant fuel source. Josh just wanted peace. One way or another, Josh just wanted peace. His father wanted revenge.

Josh sighed. “He says he saved my life, Pa.”

“Bosh! You don’t believe that!” He turned away from the bed, not wanting to see the truth in his son’s eyes. He would keep his anger burning; it served his purpose; he wanted someone to blame and punish. “No, you don’t believe that for a minute! You’re like I am — never sick a day in your life… until he operated!”

“Leave it alone, Pa; what difference does it make now?” Josh was tired — of everything. Tired of lying in this bed, unable to move, tired of facing a life without walking ever again. He was… tired. He’d thought things to death lying in that bed with nothing to do but think, and he was tired of that, too. There was nothing to keep his mind occupied and off his current condition. The fact was always the same — he would never walk again; whatever happened or what was to happen would not change anything. Josh was defeated mentally and physically, and he wanted his father to leave him alone to try and find whatever peace he could. He just wanted to be left alone. But it wasn’t happening.

“It makes all the difference in the world! Don’t you see? Nobody cheats Judah Abbott! I bought that man, I paid for him, and I intend to collect!”

Josh closed his eyes. Please just go away…

Judah Abbott had made this situation about himself, not Josh.

“That’s the way the world is! Don’t you understand?” Judah came to the side of the bed, not understanding or trying to understand his son.

Josh couldn’t and wouldn’t cope with the rants any longer. It was just too much. “Sure, Pa, sure.” He pretended to drift off.

Abbott sat on the bed and took his son’s hands. “Josh, Josh, don’t give up like this! You know what I’m going to do? I’m going to take you to San Francisco! They’ve got real doctors up there!” He waggled his finger in Josh’s face. “Not butchers…”

“Sure, Pa, they’ll fix everything….”

“Josh,” Abbott touched the pale face, at a loss for what to do.

“Pa… I think I want to rest a while…” and dismissed his father.

“But, Josh,” he began but was interrupted.

“Just close the shades, huh, Pa?”

Father and son were left overwhelmed: Judah was furious, incensed by the circumstances, while Josh felt he had no options open to him. But only one of them had an idea of the path they would take.

<><><><><> 

Murdoch was pale; a deathly white pallor competed with the color of the pillowcase. The procedure had taken hours, with all of them paying a toll.

Could they relax now that the stitches were placed? Could they hope the worst was over? Neither Johnny nor Scott was convinced, having witnessed horrors before coming to Lancer. The difference was that Banning appeared to know what he was doing. In the Lancer brothers’ lives, fighting range wars and wars between the North and South, much of the medical practices were left to those without remedial training and primitive conditions. Some were out-and-out butchers, and some used the injured as a learning tool with no experience in the trade. It left them open, vulnerable, and fearful, but here in this room, making gut-wrenching decisions, they had no other choice.

Banning arched his back with satisfying pops and cracks, rolled his eyes, and motioned for Sarah to wipe the sweat from his forehead. She had surprised him with her knowledge and aptitude for medical issues as if she’d studied and gained years of experience.

“Let’s get him bandaged.” Banning began the task with Scott and Johnny looking on, watching the doctor’s every move. “One of the ribs is pressing on the right lung but hasn’t punctured it.”

Johnny stepped forward. “That means he’s gonna pull through?”

Scott moved to his brother’s side, offering his support just as Johnny’s closeness provided him the same.

“It means I’ve done all that anyone could.” Banning handed Sarah the medical instruments he used. “You’d better sterilize these in case he starts hemorrhaging, and I need them again.”

“Yes, Doctor.” There was no hesitation in using the term ‘Doctor.’ She took the bowl without question and left the room.

Scott and Johnny stepped closer after Banning’s statement as worry and concern shrouded their features. It was too early to count on recovery just yet; the only thing they could do was to hope… and pray.

“Now, we wait,” Banning said as he pulled a chair next to the bed, stretching again before he sat down.

Scott and Johnny exchanged glances and wondered how long it would be before they would know anything. At the moment, Murdoch didn’t look like he’d live through the night. He looked dead.

“It’s going to be a while before he regains consciousness — why don’t the two of you get some sleep?” Scott looked exhausted, and Banning knew that Johnny hadn’t gotten any sleep the night before. If they weren’t careful, Banning would have three patients on his hands instead of just their father; one thing was certain, he didn’t think he’d be successful tending those two; they didn’t seem very cooperative.

<><><><><> 

Sarah left the room with the bowl of instruments to clean. It felt good to walk, to move around. She and Banning had spent hours standing in one place, bent over Mr. Lancer’s body. She came down the stairs and was met by three town women, all there inquiring about the patient and wanting to help. Answering questions from all three, Sarah was kind and patient.

“Is he alright?”

“What can we do?”

“Do you think it’s possible?”

Sarah offered a heartfelt smile as she passed them to do the doctor’s bidding. “Just wait. It’s all we can do for now.”

<><><><><> 

Pain. It made him draw in a deep breath, then the pain became hot, a fire burning inside him. No, don’t do that… Murdoch did his best to relax, to figure out why he felt so bad; what had happened to him? Relax; breathe even and slow; don’t move. Relax. But his resolve to lay still and not move was dashed by horrific visions of long fangs and claws raking over his body and biting through his hide. He tried to fight it off, and the agony exploded around him. A cup was at his mouth and he drank, but it wasn’t the water he wanted — laudanum. And he knew no more.

“I didn’t want to give the laudanum this soon, but he can’t be moving around like that. There wasn’t a choice.” Banning checking Murdoch’s vital signs as Johnny and Scott watched in worried silence. When would they know anything?

<><><><><> 

His eyes felt coated with sand; the lids were heavy and scratchy, but he forced them open, forced them to focus. Everything was a blur, but he knew something or someone was there in front of him, and he concentrated on clearing his sight and focused his attention. And then he saw them.

“Johnny, I think Murdoch is waking…,” Scott’s soft baritone voice brought his brother to the side of the bed, and together they watched Murdoch’s eyes clear as he fought toward consciousness, finally aware of his surroundings.

The blur before him became the faces he longed to see; hoped would be there when he opened his eyes, and they were. Scott and Johnny loomed above him, anxious, waiting, and hopeful. Murdoch felt a twitch tug at the corner of his mouth as a smile curled his lips when he saw two sets of intense blue eyes staring at him, analyzing and desperate for him to say something, to let them know he knew who they were. He cleared his throat and offered a gravelly, “Boys, how… long?” It was the most he could manage. Talking was draining the little strength he had; he had to stop as discomfort and heaviness flared through his chest.

“Don’t try and talk, Murdoch. We’ll tell you everything if you can stay awake long enough. First, would you like a drink?” Scott asked. At Murdoch’s nod, he and Johnny carefully eased their father forward, then put the glass to his mouth. They allowed him two swallows, then the glass was pulled away.

“Not too much, Ol’ Man.  Don’t want cha gettin’ anymore sick. Let’s see if that stays put; then we’ll get more if ya want.” Johnny’s hopeful smile began to tickle the corners of his mouth as he watched their father drink, then they lowered him back onto the bed and pulled the blankets around him. Sleep was what he needed. Murdoch opened his eyes again and turned them to the stranger sitting beside his bed.

“Are you… a doctor?”

Banning nodded, encouraged when the patient asked the question and appeared to understand the conversation thus far. He sighed, then gave Murdoch instructions. “Take a deep breath, then hold it.” Murdoch did as requested, and Banning looked at his watch. “Let it out,” Murdoch complied, then the doctor asked him to repeat the exercise. Once again, Murdoch complied, then as a hitch snagged in his throat, Banning asked, “That hurt?”

“Y-Yes,” Murdoch whispered. “What happened?”

Banning pocketed the watch before he answered the question. “I opened you up and poked around.”

Murdoch forced his mind to work, to pay attention. “Serious?”

The doctor got to his feet. “Serious enough to stay right where you are for three or four days.”

“Did you have to… remove anything?”

Johnny snorted. “Nope, didn’t find anything he wanted!” The twitch at the corner of his mouth did the trick as Murdoch fought to control the laugh that would have him regretting the move.

Banning walked away from his patient. Johnny stayed by Murdoch’s side as Scott cornered the doctor for answers.

“Three, four, maybe five days will tell,” Banning offered as he buttoned the cuffs of his shirt.

Scott was puzzled. “He looks pretty well to me right now.”

“Right now, he is. And I hope we can keep him that way. Barring complications…”

“Such as?” He and Johnny needed to be ready for anything. They’d just become a family, and there was no way they would risk losing their father now.

“Anything — pneumonia, for one, and if we’d lost the blood that he has, infection is always a possibility. He’s vulnerable — a sniffle could … well, let’s prevent that from happening. But you need to know that he could be in serious trouble at the slightest symptom.” Banning pulled his coat on while he informed Scott of potential harm. “It’s the lungs you worry about….”

Scott wondered if Banning had been down this road before. Had the man ever treated a patient with this or a similar injury? Or was it something else?

“Are you sure you’re not just trying to buy a little time? Just to keep from going back?” Scott wasn’t going to mince words. He needed to know what would and could happen.

Banning met his stare, then turned away as he pulled the coat over his shoulders and straightened it out. “Going back is not something I’m looking forward to, but I did save his life. Surely that counts for something!”

Johnny left the bedside and joined the conversation between Scott and Banning. “Yeah, it counts, Banning, but I made a promise ta take ya back….”

Footfalls interrupted the coming argument as Sarah entered the room with a basin of clean water. She watched Murdoch’s face as he drifted between consciousness and sleep, then she joined the men in conversation across the room.

“How is he?” she asked Banning as she dried her hands on her apron.

“He seems alright, but it’s too early to tell, but for now, he’s fine.”

There was something on her mind; they all saw it, something important, at least to her.

“That’s good news,” and she drew in a breath.

She was gathering her courage; they saw her eyes dart from one to the other of them. Then she posed a question; her determination took over.

“Do you think he’s well enough for you could leave him for a while? Just for a bit, that is. There’s a… line of people waiting downstairs. They’d like for you to have a look at them.”

Scott and Johnny exchanged glances. The more people involved, the greater the chance Banning would have to escape. But Scott and Johnny knew what it was not to have proper medical attention. Who were they to deny a town full of innocent people desperate for that assistance?

Sarah pleaded her case… for her friends and neighbors. “Some of them have not seen a doctor in four years, and some of them never. It would be a great help if you could spare the time, that is.” She had to make him understand; her fingers twisted in the apron she wore as she proposed the question, then waited for his answer.

Banning leveled a stare at Scott and Johnny but was talking to Sarah. “If there was anything I could do, I would, you know that, but I’m afraid you’ll have to ask these gentlemen here.” Banning’s smile tipped his well-groomed mustache, knowing there was no way on God’s green earth that the Lancer brothers wouldn’t let him see to those in need. Perhaps while they weren’t looking, he could leave…

Scott sighed. “Sarah, they have to know that he’s not a doctor….”

Sarah watched the silent battle between the men before her, then said with hope, “Oh, they all know that!”

Scott turned to Johnny, his shrug a ‘why not’ gesture.

“Don’t worry, Boston; we’re gonna be right there watchin’ him.” He turned to Sarah. “There a back room with no door… or window?”

Sarah’s relieved smile slid into place. “There’s a back room, no door, and the window had been nailed shut for years. He can see the patients there. I’ve tried to fix it up like a doctor’s office! They’re waiting for you downstairs.” Her smile was beautiful, and her eyes sparkled as they reflected her appreciation. Sarah hurried to the door, then stopped and turned.

“Do you know anything about osteolysis?”

Banning did not hesitate. “Yes, I’ve heard of it.”

Sarah briefly held his eyes; what had he seen in them? Was it hope? Then she left the room.

“What’s ost.. whatever she said?” Johnny asked.

“Osteolysis — it’s a bone separation; it’s incurable — inoperable.” Banning grabbed the old doctor’s bag, and the handle broke.  

“Looks like you could use a new piece of string,” Scott said.

“Yes, I could use a lot of new things.” He shrugged as he tried to repair the broken leather handle. “One lousy fifty-cent strap, and he didn’t even have enough for that.”

Both Scott and Johnny read the annoyance in Banning’s words. “Your father?” Scott asked. There was no verbal answer, only a look of… what was it Scott saw? Disgust? “What you learned, did you get from him?”

Banning’s demeanor changed; what right did the Lancers have to ask questions about his private life? It was none of their business. Then he sighed; there was no harm meant and no harm in answering. “Yeah, sure, I learned a lot from him. You care for everyone within fifty square miles, and everyone loves you — until it comes time to pay you.”

Now, Banning’s temper was running as he grabbed the bag and held it in front of Scott and Johnny. “This bag was the grand sum total of his earthly goods the day he died. Except for one son that didn’t have enough money to pay for his last year of medical school. But I soon began to learn for myself. Just give them a lot of warm confidence, tell them what they want to hear… and you stay with the rich people because the poor die too much.” Banning glared at them when he muttered the last of the harsh words. “That, and never take your coat off.”

Johnny had seen it first-hand. In his days of Madrid, gun hawk and fighting the range wars, the doctors often bartered for their services, and not one of them got rich caring for those who had nothing. Could he blame Banning for feeling as he did? But how many times had Johnny Madrid worked for food instead of pay? He fought to help those in need, never receiving monetary payment, and he understood. Maybe he would have a little talk with Banning and explain a few things…

Banning turned and walked out the door. Exchanging another look, Scott followed him down the stairs, leaving Johnny to tend to their father.

<><><><><> 

A line of Genesis residents stood waiting their turn to see the doctor. Sarah smiled at Billy, then ushered him to the end; his crutch thumped on the floor, making Sarah wonder if Dr. Banning could operate and rid her son of the handicap that had become a major part of his life.

She had efficiently transformed the storeroom into a doctor’s office, ensuring Banning would have what he needed to tend to those seeking his services. She had high hopes for her friends and neighbors, who had gone too long without the benefit of proper medical attention.

Proper? Banning had no license to practice, but he was all they had, which was far better than no doctor at all. They would make due — after all, Mr. Lancer was alive because Banning had performed surgery and extensive surgery. Broken bones pressing on the lungs could be deadly, but Banning had said Mr. Lancer was fine… at the moment. It was worth the chance.

As Scott sat outside the door to the back room to prevent an escape attempt should Banning try it, Sarah comforted those in line, then ushered the first patient into the doctor’s ‘office’.

Sarah announced Mrs. Holt and her grandson, Luther, into the office. Banning suspected many grandmothers were raising their children’s children after the accident at the mine had taken the men. It was sad to think this small boy before him would grow up not knowing his father, but there was nothing Banning could do about it. He would tend the child, heal his hurts and send him on his way.

“And what seems to be the problem?” Banning asked in a lighthearted voice. Banning talked to the lad, not over him — there was no sense in scaring the boy.

“I got a sliver in my foot.”

But Grandma was not about to stay quiet. “I’ve told him again and again to wear his shoes, but he won’t listen! I’ve warned him time after time about playing on the boardwalk barefoot!”

“Well, why don’t you hop right up here, and let’s take a look at that foot.”

Sarah dutifully helped Luther onto the ‘examination table.’

Banning began to unwrap the injured foot. He looked into the chubby face noting the serious eyes that watched his every move. He poked and prodded, then asked, “Does that hurt?” He watched as the boy shook his head no. “It doesn’t?”

“Uh, uh.”

“Well, I’m afraid it will when we take that sliver out.” He proceeded to poke a little more. “How about that?”

Luther was a brave little soldier. “Uh, uh.”

“How about that?” Banning persisted, then he quickly pulled the offending wood out of the tender, reddened skin.

“Owww!”

Banning widened his eyes and made a silly face. “Hahaha! Well, now, that’s exactly how much it’s going to hurt! Next time you get a sliver in your foot…”

Luther, expecting a traumatizing experience, interrupted, “Ya mean it’s out already. That didn’t hurt a bit!”

“You were certainly lucky that Dr. Banning was here!” Grandma said, needing to remind Luther that if he didn’t wear his shoes and got another sliver in his foot, he might not be as fortunate.

Banning washed the minor wound, fitted it with a bandage, and Sarah saw them out of the office.

Scott entered and found a seat in the corner as Banning washed his hands in the basin of water that Sarah had placed for that purpose.

“Fascinating how much they need you before and how little they offer the pay after.”

And the day progressed. Patient after patient filed through the makeshift doctor’s office as Banning did what he could to ease their hurts and comfort their worries.

<><><><><> 

Johnny watched as Murdoch slept. The breaths were not deep, but then Johnny knew they wouldn’t be with a chest full of badly broken ribs. Was it wishful thinking, or was his father’s coloring a little better? Too soon for that.

It felt strange sitting there with Murdoch, a man Johnny grew up hating, a man that had thrown him and his mother out of the house, or so he’d been led to believe. And now he knew the truth. He loved his mother, he always would, but he couldn’t forgive her for what her lies and deceit had cost him. Both Murdoch and Johnny had paid much because of it. And Scott had fared no better; he, too, had been deceived, but that was behind them. Stop thinking about the past; the future is what counted now.

And now he sat by Murdoch’s side, wishing, hoping… praying that the man he had hated would be alright. His father…

<><><><><> 

The young girl held the handkerchief to her mouth as she coughed through the examination. Banning was troubled, but he couldn’t tell the girl. “Liza, I want you to tell your mother I said less chores and lots more play time every day, alright?” He handed her the rag doll as she smiled and nodded affirmatively.

Sarah saw the girl out as Scott got to his feet and questioned Banning’s direction.

“Well, what kind of diagnosis was that, Doctor?”

There were times when Banning wondered why he wanted to be a doctor, and he answered Scott with brutal honesty. “Let’s see how you like this one. That little girl will die of consumption before the year is out. There’s no power on God’s earth that can stop it.”

The gut-punch verdict left Scott speechless.

“Two months ago, things might have been different…” But it was too late now.

The blanket over the door was brushed aside as Sarah directed the next patient to the doctor. Banning forced a smile to his face as Mrs. Fleming was announced.

It was endless. He’d bandaged cuts and scrapes and handed out medicine to control coughs and upset stomachs. He was tired. When would it end? He’d checked enough swollen glands and red, watery eyes to make him think everyone in the town was ill. How many people lived here anyway?

He had been watching Banning for hours now, and something had changed. Scott admired the doctor’s manner with the patients he tended. He was not the villain that Scott had first thought when Johnny brought him here to save their father. The man was… good. There was compassion about him that Scott hadn’t seen when he first arrived. With that license, there was no doubt in Scott’s mind that Banning would be a successful doctor… he already was, as far as Scott was concerned.

Scott walked the little boy out from behind the blanket and took his hat off the tow-headed lad before he absconded with it; the boy’s arm was splinted, and he remarked to Sarah about the boy’s bravery while the bone was set. He stood as Sarah took charge of the boy, then turned toward Johnny when he heard him coming down the stairs.

“Hey, Boston, ya wanna go sit with Murdoch an’ I’ll spell ya down here? He’s sleepin’ pretty sound; I don’t think he’s hurtin’ too much until he tries ta move. Then he’ll wake but settles down again.”

Scott seemed far away, thoughtful. “I don’t know about Banning…”

Johnny’s attention was piqued. “What’d ya mean?”

Swirling thoughts crowded his mind. Too many, all scrambling for attention, and he couldn’t explain any of them. “Um, nothing.” Then Scott went up the stairs while Johnny took his turn to guard the doctor.

<><><><><> 

Banning sat rubbing his eyes in fatigue as he heard Johnny’s spurs jingle with each footstep. Banning took note of Johnny’s presence. “What’s this? The changing of the guard?”

“Just watchin’ ya work, wonderin’ how you’re doin’.”

The glare in Banning’s eyes did not support his belief in Johnny’s words.

“When will they learn? Children with pneumonia sleeping outside; people with cuts infected, and re-infected, water needlessly polluted….”

Johnny sat on a chair against the wall. The answers to Banning’s questions were simple. “They don’t know what they ain’t been taught. An’ thinkin’ that what ya believed growin’ up is the wrong thing ta do, well, it’s gonna be hard ta change their minds.”

Banning listened as Johnny told what it was like to be on ‘that’ side of medical issues. He knew the common-sense approach but had never considered their side of reasoning, but if he listened, would it help him to understand the people he served?

“Fresh air always sounded like a good thing; I mean clean air ta breathe insteada bein’ in a room an’ havin’ the windows closed doesn’t sound too bad ta me either. Is it the damp that’s bad for a sick person? If it is, they don’t know that. An’ far as them cuts getting’ infected, answer me this, how’s the work gonna get done if they don’t do it? I mean, ya can’t let the work slide just cuz ya got a cut or some other wound. These people don’t have much, an’ what they do have, they hafta work for it an’ can’t depend on someone doin’ it for ‘em.

“Ya talked about them payin’ ya with a side of bacon an’ the like. Well, it might not seem like enough ta you, but ta them, it’s food off their table. It’s all they have.”

Banning knew what Johnny was saying, but it didn’t make it any easier to accept.

“Polluted — That mean the water’s bad?”

“Yes, and bad water is dangerous,” the doctor growled.

Johnny snorted as a half-smile tugged the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, bad water can give ya grief.”

“And it can kill you!”

“Seen it happen. But if they don’t know what makes it bad, how’re they gonna know how ta handle it? Doc, that’s what you hafta teach ‘em.” Johnny understood the doctor’s anger and annoyance, and he also knew Banning’s circumstances weighed heavy on his mind, compounding the frustration of ignorance — knowing he would be going back to that cell in Cold River wasn’t sitting well with Johnny either. Could things change, Johnny wondered?

He was exhausted. The people of this town were in desperate need of medical help. There was an opportunity here — but at what cost? Payment with a side of bacon?  

Banning shrugged, non-committal, as he cared for his instruments.

“Is it all that bad, Banning?” Johnny pressed.

“What do you want to hear? That it’s great, rewarding, fulfilling? Anything you want to hear… Would it make any difference?” Tell them what they want to hear…

“Ya know I hafta take ya back if that’s what cha mean. But I’ll tell ya this, Murdoch knows a lotta important people, an’ we, me, Scott, an’ Murdoch, once he’s able, will stand behind ya. That an’ our testimony oughtta mean somethin’. Ol’ Murdoch’s been around here a long time, an’ he knows some pretty good lawyers.”

“But this is Judah Abbott’s town and Judah Abbott’s jury,” a sarcastic sneer accentuated the meaning of what was already set in stone. “All those tight, pinched, anxious faces looking at him, waiting for him to tell them how to react — how to think.” Banning turned to face Johnny, determination… and hope in his eyes. “Johnny, I could make it here; it wouldn’t be easy, but I could make it work if you’d just give me a chance!”

Johnny knew the doctor could make it work… once Abbott was off his back, but until that happened, he had no choice. Johnny bowed his head, sympathizing with Banning. But he’d given his word to the sheriff. Then he looked at the doctor. “I made a promise. I wish it was that easy.”

The glare in Banning’s eyes darkened, then he looked away.

<><><><><> 

Johnny couldn’t control the smile that crawled across his face listening to Scott as he read to their father.

Murdoch tried to appear interested as his Boston-bred, educated son read from that book, but, Lord, it was boring. Was the medicine coursing through him, holding him in a state of confusion and scattered thoughts, or was it simply boring details and descriptions of some culture halfway around the world? Usually, he would have hung on to every word but… not today. He thanked the bit of luck when the motion to his right caught his attention, and he saw Johnny enter the sick room, hopefully to offer some relief.

“Hey, Murdoch, how ya doin’?”

Murdoch’s eyes went to his recalcitrant younger son, then wasn’t sure exactly how he should answer the question, so he settled on an evasive answer.

“I think I’m better, but not able to concentrate on my… geography lesson. I’m sorry, Scott… It seems as though my mind wants to wander.”

Johnny sighed as he settled into the chair next to his brother.

“Well, ya might wanna wrangle it in, ol’ man, cuz I got somethin’ ta talk to ya about. You too, Scott.” Johnny leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “It’s about Banning. I only got his side of the story, but from what the sheriff in Cold River said, everything that Doc told me is the truth. There’s a man named Judah Abbott that runs Cold River, an’ Abbott’s son needed an operation. It was risky an’ Doc told Abbott before he started the boy would die without it; well, he lived, but he’s crippled now because of it, an’ Abbott, who controls the law an’ everyone in Cold River wants Banning ta pay for what happened to the kid.

“Doc pulled ya through, Murdoch, an’ I’d like ta help him — ya know, with a good lawyer, someone that’ll stand up ta Abbott. Hell, if we could tell Abbott that you know the governor, maybe that’ll help, too. What’d ya say?” Johnny looked to Murdoch, then Scott, and waited for their reactions.

Murdoch thought this was more interesting than Scott’s book and weighed their options.

“Banning told me he worked for Abbott for six years with no problem; Abbott had ta know Banning didn’t have a license ta practice medicine, but now his boy’s crippled, he wants ta make the most of it. Kinda like Jay McKillen sellin’ you that property, then findin’ out he could get more for it an’ callin’ you on it.”

Murdoch pondered the idea. “I’m feeling a little better, boys.” He looked between them, assuring them it was a fact, not just a thought to pacify them. “I think we should start for home tomorrow. The four of us.”

Murdoch had something in mind, Johnny could see it, but he’d told the sheriff he’d bring Banning back. “What about me tellin’ Sheriff Troupe…”

But Murdoch’s reasoning began to work. The befuddled, muzzy feeling started to lift; he turned a clear-eyed gaze on his sons. “We go back there and make him understand!”

<><><><><> 

The old woman stood before him, filled with hope, as Banning prescribed her the bottle of medicine. “You take one spoonful of this before every meal, and if that cough doesn’t stop in a week, you come back and see me, alright?”

Her smile brightened the room as Banning thought that in a week, he would probably be dancing at the end of a rope.

“How much do I owe you, Doctor?”

Banning wanted to shake his head. Had he heard right? Someone had offered to pay him!

“No, no, no. I’m not in this for the money.” He smiled when he said it, but did he really mean it?

“At least let me pay for the medicine!”

Banning refused with a flip of his hand. “It’s on the house.”

The woman was touched. “Thank you so much!”

Sarah ushered the woman out, then began straightening the ‘office.’

“Well, there’s little chance I’ll be here in a week.”

Sarah stopped folding the towel in her hands, pausing to express her feelings, her help. “If there is anything we can do about that… anything!”

The heartfelt offer shocked Banning; Sarah was serious, and it hit Banning hard, more than he would admit. “Oh, I don’t know what…” But he did know something, but would he ask her to help? He couldn’t in good conscience ask her to help him escape… could he? But he had no second thoughts about playing on her sympathies.

“There’s a man in Cold River that thinks I could have cured his son — but I couldn’t. Try telling him that…” Banning sighed. “So, the Lancers are going to take me back, and he’s going to lock me away. What more anyone could do about that is beyond me.”

No! The doctor has helped so many here today- he doesn’t deserve that! Was there anything she could do to help? Sarah fought for control; working with Banning through the day, she’d come to know and admire him. He was good at working with the people, and they respected him. Yes, she would do whatever she could to help him.

Banning watched her face; shock and disbelief clouded her eyes, and he saw fear shade her hopes; could he take advantage of her feelings? Convince her to help him? Maybe with a bit more coaxing…

Suddenly, he heard himself launch the next salvo. “You know what really hurts? I’d like to start practicing medicine. I’d like to find a town that needed me….”

 She wanted to scream, Oh, we need you!

“… settle down.” The seed was planted, and he carried it through. “Oh well, maybe it will all work out… Who knows?”

Sarah had to speak — she had to tell him; she had to offer. “If you think, or Mr. Lancer or anyone else thinks that…”

“Look, you’ve done enough for me already. You believed in me when I needed it.” And that part was the truth. Sarah helped him more than anyone ever had. And Banning would forever be grateful to her.

Sarah took a minute to gather her emotions. Had she come close to offering something she couldn’t deliver?

Banning rescued her from her feelings. “I think it’s time to see our next patient.” He covered her hand with his own.

“This next patient is someone very special to me, Doctor.”

Was it her eyes or overall appearance that softened his heart? And that smile didn’t hurt, either. “They’re all special to me, Sarah.” Had he set the trap and convinced her?

She turned toward the door, and Banning had to smile, but was it because of her, or had he pulled the deception to the next step?

The distinctive thump, footfall, thump, footfall could not be mistaken for anyone else as Sarah brought her son, Billy, into the makeshift office. Banning had seen the boy around but had no idea who the lad was.

“What’s your name, son?”

“Billy Lockwood.”

 Banning was shocked. Pull it together! He screamed at himself.

The doctor turned to face the new patient as Sarah stood behind her son.

“Hello, Bill; give those crutches to your mother and sit right here on the barrel.” Billy did as he was told as Sarah took the hat from her son’s head, then straightened his hair.  Banning lifted the boy’s legs straight out before him, resting them on the edge of the table. “How did this happen?”

“Well, I was down in the mine that day, and everything just started caving in. A timber fell across my leg.”

Banning manipulated the foot and leg, then asked, “About this angle, is the right?” he motioned where the timber landed with his hand.

“Uh, huh.”

Banning moved the leg and foot more and elaborated on his quickly-form plan of deception. “Does this hurt?”

“No.”

“Do you feel anything?”

“No, I can’t feel anything.”

Sarah stood behind Billy, hoping, praying that Banning could help them.

Banning purposely kept his back to them. He didn’t think he could do this if he saw Sarah’s hope… and her blind faith in him. How can I do this to them? Conscience was an awful mistress.

Banning stepped back, then faced the Lockwoods. “I’ll tell you what I want you to do, and with no help from your mother. I want you to get off that barrel, put your weight on both feet and take a couple of steps.”

Apprehension immediately filled Sarah’s eyes as a frown creased her brow. Billy looked scared. He stared at his mother, then slowly eased off the barrel as Sarah stepped back, accepting the instruction not to help.

The left leg did all the work, but the right, where it barely supported his weight, was next to useless, causing a severe limp; Billy hopped as he went along.

“That’s alright, Billy,” Banning held out his hand to stop Billy’s attempt to walk. “It’s alright. You did real good. That will be all, Bill; I want to talk to your mother.” Then Banning turned his back as Sarah took Billy out.

With her mother’s hope and high expectations, Sarah instructed him to wait for her as she consulted with Dr. Banning.

He struggled, warred with the right and wrong of it — to lie and live, take more time with these people and get away before Abbott had him strung up, or admit there was nothing that could be done — could he go through with it? But he needed her help, and with good news, she would be more apt to aid him. While waiting for her return, Banning sat by the examination table and folded the cloth he held.

She stood rooted to the floor. “Doctor?” she whispered in the quiet of the room.

Do it! Just say it! But he couldn’t face her when he said the words, “It’s not as bad as it seems.” And dammit all, if she didn’t come and kneel on the floor next to his chair, her face so full of hope…

“Will he walk?”

“There’s a great deal we can do.” Can’t meet her eyes, can you?

“Will he walk?”

Funny how her determination made that sound more like a statement instead of a question. Was he stalling for time, or was he having second thoughts? If he convinced Sarah Lockwood there was a chance Billy could walk again, it would delay his trip back to Cold River, the cell that awaited him, and the noose.

Finally looking into her eyes, Banning said, “It will take an operation.”

Sarah was desperate. She needed to hear the words — she needed Banning to say it. “You can make him walk,” her expression, her words dared to hope. Then she asked, “You can make him walk right?”

She pierced him with her stare… her desperate stare that he didn’t want to face, but he said the word. “Yes. Yes, I can do it.” But he left the chair, left Sarah kneeling on the floor, and turned away, unable to meet her eyes. What had he done?

Banning felt the joy of a mother thinking her boy would be alright and able to walk without the aid of crutches; then he felt the weight of the lie he’d told. Was his freedom worth deceiving the woman who had been so kind? He would have to live with his decision for the rest of his life, short as it may be if Abbott got his way. But could he lie if he knew he was able to get away?

He could hear them in the store — the joyful words of a mother telling her son that he would walk and be alright. But Banning didn’t count on having to face that boy when he came into the room. Billy Lockwood hobbled back into the office.

“Thank you, Doctor.”

Banning could not turn to look into those eyes that would soon know the extent of betrayal and disappointment Banning would cause him. He cursed himself for a coward and damned Judah Abbott!

<><><><><> 

The bottle felt cool in his hand. Josh Abbott studied the smooth brown glass; he could almost smile. The early morning dawn was just beginning to break through the empty Hell of night. There would be no more wondering, no more hoping, no more of anything. Dawn was Josh’s favorite time of day, or it used to be. It was a time when he would contemplate what the day would bring, what he would do, and who he would see. Would he visit Susie Parker that night? Would she let him kiss her? But not anymore. She hadn’t been by to see him since… since… She hadn’t seen him since before he got sick. It was over, and he couldn’t blame her. But still, he felt gutted by her desertion.

And now, that cool, smooth brown bottle in his hand held the answer; it represented freedom. He pulled out the cork and put the bottle to his lips, letting the bitter liquid flow over his tongue and down his throat until it was gone. He lay there wondering what it was going to feel like as the medicine began to overpower his mind and paralyze the rest of his body. A thought occurred to him and he became angry. He tossed the blankets off his useless legs and roughly shoved them off the bed to dangle like dead, broken branches of a tree. He’d be damned before he would die in this bed — this prison of lavender-scented linen, and he pushed himself off the mattress only to land on the floor. He stared at the ceiling as his sight hazed around the edges. It was strange that he couldn’t gather his thoughts, and his eyes closed as his breathing stopped. Josh’s torment was over.

<><><><><> 

“Ya sure you’re up for this, Murdoch? A coupla more days rest would do ya some good…,” Johnny argued as he and Scott settled their father into the wagon bed.

Murdoch couldn’t help but smile even though the fiery pain was nearing unbearable proportions. “I’ll remind you… of that the next time you’re hurt, my son!”

“The next time I have all them busted ribs an’ been mauled by a cat, you do that, an’ I’ll listen,” Johnny said stubbornly, but he couldn’t help the grin he gave his father.

That was it. Even Scott laughed at the remark.

“What? What’s so funny about that?”

“Johnny, I suggest you don’t make any more jokes because Murdoch is going to rip those stitches out if you make him laugh!”

Inside the store, Sarah Lockwood heard the Lancers talking; she looked out the window and felt the air whoosh out of her lungs. No! No, they can’t do this! And she grabbed the shotgun she kept under the counter and made her way outside to stop them.

“You Lancers! You take your father and leave! I love my son as much as you love your family! Take your father, but you’ll leave Mr. Banning here! If there’s a chance he can help my son walk again, he’ll get that chance!”

Banning sat on the wagon seat, hopeful that Sarah and her shotgun would be the deciding factor to ensure his escape, but could he do it? Could he let her down like that? He’d already lied to her; could he hurt her anymore and run away?

“Mr. Banning can help my son walk!”

Johnny hopped out of the wagon bed when he heard Mrs. Lockwood’s statement and stood beside Scott. They both looked up at Banning as he sat on the wagon seat, and each saw what Sarah didn’t in his eyes.

They heard Sarah ask him about osteolysis, then after she left the room, they heard Banning say it was inoperable and incurable, and they knew it was her son, Billy, that she asked about — and now he was lying to her.

Scott stepped closer, then asked Banning point blank. “Did you tell her that?”

Knowing he was caught, Banning attempted to cast doubt on his earlier diagnosis. “There’s reason to believe… there’s always a chance….”

Scott looked away and shook his head. Johnny stared hard and cold, and it made Banning stammer. He wouldn’t get away with this, not with Scott and Johnny watching over him.

Scott sighed. “You know, Banning, for a minute there, I almost believed in you. That something had started to live inside of you. I watched you tend these people with compassion….”

“I could make this work if you would just trust me! I could help these people!”

Johnny continued to stare, “How? By lyin’ ta them? What were ya gonna explain ta them after operatin’ an’ this boy still couldn’t walk right? An’ them, Banning,” Johnny motioned to the townspeople. His statement, though quiet, began with disappointment but ended in disgust. How could he blatantly lie to Mrs. Lockwood and her son and cruelly encouraged them to believe that he could cure the boy? It was all Madrid could do not to throw the bastard on a horse and march him right back to Cold River and tell Judah Abbott Banning was all his and to do with the ‘doctor’ whathe wanted to do all along.

Banning knew his chances were rapidly dwindling, and soon they would be gone. Neither Lancer son was a fool; how would he convince them to help him now? Would Sarah ever trust him again? He risked a look into her eyes.

Sarah was confused, not understanding what was being said — what was implied. Doctor Banning said he could make Billy walk again! But the look on the faces of Scott and Johnny told a different story! And then she saw the lie on Banning’s face and the betrayal began to hit her, but she fought against it, not wanting to believe it.

“You’re only making this worse, Banning,” Scott began. “The first thing you’d do is get on a horse and ride out of here! When you got here, you told us you wanted to be paid for your services, not with a basket of fruit or a side of bacon. Look around you — This is your father’s kind of town, not yours!”

Banning called his bluff. “And are you prepared to stop me?” He dared Scott to answer.

“He might not… but I would…” Johnny settled his hand on the butt of his Colt.

“They need me here!” Banning said convincingly.

“No, they don’t, Banning! They don’t need you here like some grifter selling them empty boxes of candy!” Scott argued.

“No!” She couldn’t listen to Scott anymore! “You’re lying! You are!” She lowered the shotgun and turned to Banning, looking up at him sitting on the wagon seat. “He is lying, isn’t he?” She was desperate — she needed Banning’s confirmation; she couldn’t believe what her head was telling her — she needed to hear those words spoken; verification that Billy would walk again…

Sarah whirled around to face the gathering crowd of townspeople, hoping for their support. “He’s lying!” she shouted to them, praying they would back her up.

Scott played the winning card. “Tell them, Banning… better yet, tell him!” Scott motioned to Billy, who came forward.

“You don’t have to tell me, Dr. Banning. I know you can do it.”

And there was no way out. Not now. “It takes time, Bill. Things aren’t easy…”

But the boy was ready with his answer. “You never said it’d be easy! But you can fix me! Just like you did Luther, and Aggie, and Liza!”

Yes, Dr. Banning can help my boy! Sarah grabbed onto that notion, not daring to let it go.

“I don’t care how long it takes; I can wait! I believe in you!”

Yes! I believe, too, Billy!  Sarah wanted to believe with all her heart Banning could help.

Scott and Johnny watched Banning as he realized there was no way out.

Banning’s eyes dulled; he shrugged his shoulders, then stepped down from the wagon. He had to come clean and deep down regretted that he’d given Sarah and Billy false hope — had lied to them, and would now break their hearts.

Face up to what you’ve done!  “No, it’s not just time, Bill. I can’t do it… nobody can.”

Sarah was stunned! The doctor had promised! And now, it was all lies! She wrapped her arm around Billy, but the boy pulled away and hobbled to safety where no one would see his tears as his hopes for walking again were ripped out of reach.

Sarah exploded, lunging for Banning, aiming vicious slaps across his face. Scott caught her arms, pulled her to him, and held her close, letting her cry her frustration and disappointment onto his chest. Johnny covered Banning, but it wasn’t necessary. He stood in defeat… and shame.

“I know you wanted to believe him, Sarah, wanted him to lie. But finding out now that the operation was impossible is far better than going through with it, then finding out it wouldn’t work. If you can respect him for that, you’ll be better for it.”

Sarah wasn’t ready to respect him for anything, and she turned away and ran into the store. The slamming door cut off the heart-wrenching sobs.

Banning climbed onto the wagon seat, followed by Scott. Johnny settled in the back with Murdoch, and they left Genesis; the citizens stood in the street wondering if they had lost a doctor, a last hope, or a lying cheat.

<><><><><> 

The knock on the door was loud in the quiet room. “Joshua! Josh, boy, how are ya?” Judah asked before he walked into the room with the empty bed. He stood in shock, senseless, as he gazed at the place where his paralyzed son should have been. Where was he?

Abbott looked around the room for his son, who couldn’t walk. Then he saw the body on the floor at the side of the bed… Josh lay unmoving, and as Judah stood looking at his son, the shock washed over him, a numbing, cold flood of dread. “Josh?!” And Judah fell to his knees beside the body; he knew Josh was dead, but the father in him felt for a pulse, hoping beyond hope his son clung to a flicker of life. There was nothing. “No!… No!”  His mind began to run. This wouldn’t have happened f it hadn’t been for Banning! Abbott found an empty bottle under Josh’s cooling hand. It was the medicine left by the doctor!

Abbott looked around, and there, on the table, was a note written by Josh. Abbott picked it up and read the damning words.

Dad, I’m sorry. Please believe me, how sorry I am.

Abbott backed up, staring down at his son’s body as shock coursed through him, not believing Josh could have taken his own life.

But I can’t go on knowing I’d be a cripple for the rest of my life.

No! Josh could not have committed suicide! What would he do? They were Abbotts, for God’s sake! Abbotts did not kill themselves! And he would make sure that no one would ever suspect it.

The door opened as the maid entered with a tray for Josh. She stopped cold when she saw the body on the floor.

Keeping the note held hidden behind him, he directed her to get the sheriff from town. “Tell him to move faster! Everything has changed… Tell him it’s murder now!” At her hesitation, he urged her on her way. “Go on! Go on!”

No one could know what happened! An Abbott wouldn’t take his own life, couldn’t sully the name. No! Banning would pay for this and no one would know what Josh had done!

When she turned and left the room, Judah Abbott threw the suicide note into the fire and watched it burn to black ash. Ashes — it was all that was left of his son’s life.

<><><><><> 

The wagon drove down the main street of Cold River as Sheriff Troupe wandered out onto the boardwalk.

“Well, thanks for brinin’ Banning back, Mr. Lancer.”

Johnny hopped out of the wagon. “Don’t be thankin’ me. Banning had the chance ta send me away from Genesis empty-handed, but he didn’t do it.”

The sheriff was not convinced that Banning had suddenly turned responsible. “Oh? Why?”

“That’s my business,” Banning said, thinking Troupe didn’t need to know what had happened in Genesis.

Troupe felt a surge of power he’d not felt in a long time. And he relished the fact he would be the one to inform Banning of the new charge he would face. He felt a power he’d not experienced in a while. “You’re gonna wish you had taken that chance.”

Banning waited until he climbed off the wagon before he asked the sheriff to explain. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Inflated with importance, Troupe delivered the news. “Joshua Abbott died last night.”

Banning’s brow creased as the words slammed into his brain. “Died?”

“An’ I got a warrant for your arrest on the charge of murder.”

“Murder?” Scott exclaimed.

Johnny stood listening to the exchange. That little itch began to tickle. Something wasn’t right.

Scott stood next to Banning wanting the sheriff to explain; a twin frown on his brow matched the doctor’s.

Banning couldn’t piece it together. “You think he died from the operation?”

“I think that’s what a jury is gonna think. Let’s go inside!”

“Sheriff, wait a minute!” Johnny protested, wanting to talk this out; all right, maybe not talk so much as battle it out… one way or another.

“Forget it, Lancer. You’ve done enough for me already!” Banning was not obliged and followed the sheriff into the jail, ready to be done with them all. What was the use? He would not be alive long enough to make any difference. Judah Abbott called the shots. Judah Abbott was the law, and no one could make any difference now.

Scott and Johnny stood shoulder to shoulder, not sure of their next move. Scott held the doctor’s bag in his hands, and now, it seemed to take on a different meaning. It was no longer just an old and worn doctor’s bag. Now it stood for a man’s life.

“Well, I never trusted him, called him a liar and a phony… but….”

“Yeah, brother, I know what cha mean.” Nope, somethin’ ain’t right. “Why don’t cha get Murdoch back ta the ranch an’ get some rest.”

“Alright.” Scott nodded, then wondered about his brother. “What are you going to do, Johnny?” Did he want to leave Johnny here alone? No, but he had to get Murdoch home.

He felt that tickle — the one that started in the back of his mind, sparking the notion that something wasn’t right. Johnny wasn’t sure, but he had to tell Scott something. “Not sure, Boston, but I think I’ll hang around just ta make sure Banning gets a fair trial. If I need ya, I’ll send for ya, alright? But right now, Murdoch needs ta be home.” He knew Murdoch wasn’t all that comfortable lying in the wagon, but it was the best they could do for him. Besides, the ol’ man wasn’t averse to taking the laudanum Banning supplied.

Scott hated to leave his brother, but Johnny was right. Murdoch should be home with Teresa, Sam, and Maria fussing over him. He blew out a breath knowing his words would fall on deaf ears. “Johnny, do me a favor, will you?”

Johnny’s attention was across the street, watching a well-dressed man enter the saloon. “Yeah, sure, Boston….”

“Stay out of trouble, Johnny.” It wasn’t a question asked in hopes of an affirmative reply. It was an order.

Johnny gathered his wandering thoughts, then met his brother’s stare. “Sure, Boston. Stay outta trouble….”

“I mean it, Johnny,” Scott said as he followed Johnny’s eyes.

“Scott,” Johnny drew out the name. “Trust me! I’ll be good.” He took the bag from Scott’s hands. It was worn; it had seen a lot in its service to Banning Senior; it had held the instruments and medicines that saved many lives. It was history — it stood for things that were good and right. What was to become of it now?

Scott climbed onto the wagon as Johnny went into the sheriff’s office. “You take good care of Banning. We owe him that for saving Murdoch.” Then he took up the lines and drove out of town.

<><><><><> 

“You’re wasting your time, Mr. Lancer. When I told you that Judah Abbott owned this town, I was including the lawyers.” Banning had given up. He knew it was useless to try and find a reasonable… and legal, way out of the situation.

But Johnny wasn’t giving up. “There’s other towns, other lawyers. I’ll find one.”

Banning was persistent. “It will still be a waste of time. Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do and I apologize for that remark. You’ve done nothing but try to help me. It’s my fault, not yours.” Sighing, Banning continued. “If I hadn’t had that sudden attack of decency up in Genesis, I wouldn’t be sitting here waiting for them to measure a rope for me.”

Johnny’s eyes turned cold. “Are you kiddin’ me, Banning?” Disbelief shrouded him. “You’re so busy feelin’ sorry for yourself, you’re not seein’ things as they really are, an’ ya will hang!”

Johnny dragged a chair over to sit and continue their talk. Talk! Ain’t exactly a two-sided conversation if I hafta convince this jackass ta fight for himself. He took a deep breath, blew it out, then sat quietly, pensively running things through his mind. He tilted his head to one side and started again, this time taking a different route. “Suppose you have another attack of decency, like what ya had in Genesis an’ give me a straight answer.” He held Banning’s attention. “Could Josh Abbott have died because you operated on him?”

“No.”

There was no ‘tell’, no indication the doctor was lying when he gave his answer, and Johnny saw the truth in the solitary word. No. Banning was not lying.

“That’s the truth; I swear it.”

Johnny dropped his head; a short exhale of breath accented by a half smile. “I believe ya.”

If it was a shock, Banning didn’t show it, but he did appreciate Johnny’s support with a soft “Thank you.”

“So, if he didn’t die from the operation,” Johnny canted his head, looking off to the side, then stared at Banning, “… what was it?”

Banning sighed again. “He was sick; he would have been an invalid the rest of his life — bedridden most of the time, and he knew that. I told him before the operation that the surgery wouldn’t cure him….” A flicker of memory sparked and Banning stood and grasped the iron bars of the cell, staring, but not at anything in the room — he was staring into the past; was he remembering correctly?

“Banning?” Johnny waited, knowing there was something coming into the light of the doctor’s consciousness. “What?”

“I just remembered something…” The memory now blazed clearly as Banning recalled the conversation between him and Josh; the statement that could possibly be the key to the whole mess. “He said he wasn’t sure if he wouldn’t rather be dead than be an invalid for the rest of his life.”

There it was. They had their answer… now to prove it. And it would be Johnny Madrid Lancer that would get to the bottom of it. He’d never met Judah Abbott but was about to do just that. There was no way he’d let Banning hang if Abbott was covering up his son’s suicide.

<><><><><> 

He scanned the street, second-story windows, and alleys. There was nothing that sent the honed senses on edge; nothing to alert him of possible danger. Johnny stopped at the bat-wing doors of Cold River’s saloon, checking the patrons before he entered.

Judah Abbott sat at a table, a half-filled bottle of whiskey, his only companion, on the table before him.

Johnny sauntered into the saloon, his eyes taking in the room without appearing to do so, walked behind Abbott, then softly called his name.

“Mr. Abbott?” There was no reply; Johnny stepped closer, and with no acknowledgment from the town boss, he introduced himself. “Name’s Johnny Lancer. Mind if I sit?”

Judah looked up but made no gesture for Johnny to join him, and Johnny didn’t wait for an invitation. He pulled out the chair and sat at Abbott’s table. Madrid had done his share of negotiating with men like Abbott, but grief added another level of danger, and Madrid knew he had to tread carefully.

“‘M sorry about your son… so’s Doctor Banning.”

Abbott’s glacial stare told of his mindset, and he growled. “Get out of here.”

Not letting go of the man’s glare, Johnny shook his head and stayed where he was; he wasn’t leaving until he got a few answers; however, intruding on a man’s grief was risky. Well, never let it be said that Madrid was afraid of a little risk.

“I know ya feel Banning is responsible for your son’s death, but how can ya be so sure?” Get it said — plain and simple. However, Johnny suspected nothing about Judah Abbott’s son’s death would be plain or simple.

“Because right after that operation….”

Johnny wasn’t going to let the remark slide. “That was months ago…”

“It made an invalid of him!” Judah said as he stared off into nothing as if seeing things in the past.

“Banning disagrees,” Johnny persisted.

“Banning’s a liar.”

“I don’t think he is, not about this.”

Abbott turned his icy stare on the man before him. “I don’t care what you think! Just get out of here!”

But Johnny stayed where he was. He wasn’t leaving without saying what was on his mind, and Mr. Judah Abbott wasn’t going to like it. “Banning thinks your son took his own life….”

Those words exploded in Judah Abbott’s head. His glare intensified and he stood, alarming the others in the saloon of potential trouble. They stopped the card games; they stopped their drinking… they stopped everything. All attention was focused on the table in the middle of the room. Judah Abbott’s table; the table where a stranger was sitting leaning back as if he was there casually visiting. Until they heard Abbott’s harsh reply.

“My son wouldn’t take his own life! He wasn’t weak — he was as strong as I am!”

Johnny was done with the pleasantries; once a man made up his mind, and had let his prejudices and judgment rule his thoughts, there was no negotiating. But Johnny was not going to let Banning hang for something he didn’t do.

“It ain’t a matter of weakness or strength… or that he couldn’t face what happened ta him.” Then Johnny slammed his point home. “Maybe it’s cuz he knew you couldn’t face it…”

Judah Abbott boiled over in rage; he grabbed the edge of the table, and flipped it over, taking Johnny with it. Johnny quickly gained his footing, avoiding the broken bottle that shattered on the floor. Abbott grabbed for Johnny’s jacket, holding him to land a punch to the aggravating face that dared intrude in his grief. But the younger man was faster, stronger, and blocked Judah’s blow.

“Think about what you’re doin’, Abbott!” Johnny knew the sorrow and anguish clouded the man’s mind and compromised reasonable thought process. But Abbott persisted; lost in the torment of his own volition, Judah’s fury launched a further attack and attempted to throw another punch at his head, and now Madrid stepped into the fray. Johnny wouldn’t let Abbott force him into a fight the older man would definitely lose. He would stop the senselessness now before Abbott chanced to harm himself. He blocked the second punch and delivered one of his own. Abbott crashed against the piano, then crumbled to the floor. The fight was mercifully short due to Johnny’s determination to end it, once and for all.

Johnny hadn’t wanted to hurt the man; the grief of losing a loved one was debilitating, and losing an only child could potentially render a parent incapable of reasonable thought and behavior. At that point, Judah Abbott was beyond hope and help; the man was hurting enough… but for all the wrong reasons. The hit to Abbott’s jaw had been enough to render the man incapable of any further attack… for the moment.

“Alright, that’s enough!” Sheriff Troupe shouted as he burst through the swinging doors.

Johnny stood looking down at the broken man, the man that had taken his grief and blatantly turned it into something it shouldn’t have been. Embarrassment over his son’s suicide had poisoned his sorrow; misery turned to loathing and he piled it on the wrong person — Doctor Banning.

Johnny had had enough. It would be up to Abbott to deal with the situation he had created, but he wasn’t going to hang Banning. Johnny would make sure of it.

“I’m goin’ ta see Banning,” Johnny mumbled to the sheriff, then turned to leave the saloon.

Abbott struggled to consciousness seeing Lancer turn to go out the door. No! He’s not going to let Banning go! He reached into his coat and pulled out his gun, aiming it at Johnny’s back. Troupe began his redemption as acting sheriff, drew his pistol, and pulled the trigger, wounding the great Judah Abbott in the shoulder. Johnny whirled around with Colt in hand but would have been too late.

Troupe’s mouth fell open — What had he done? He shot Abbott! Momentarily stunned, Troupe made his way to Abbott as he lay on the floor. Johnny kicked the gun away from Abbott’s reach; you couldn’t trust a snake and Johnny knew a snake when he saw one.

Had Troupe suddenly grown a backbone? “I couldn’t let you shoot him in the back, Mr. Abbott!”

Inside, Johnny wanted to laugh but he restrained the urge, thinking the pathetic man lying on the floor, wounded and bleeding was just too pitiful. He turned and left the saloon.

<><><><><> 

Banning did laugh… hysterically. “Me, take a bullet out of Judah Abbott? Ridiculous!”

Johnny turned to the deputy; “Get him out of that cell.” Then he continued the argument with Banning. “Ya gonna just let ‘im die? Wouldn’t it make more sense ta get that bullet out, then make him stand trial for what he’s done?”

Banning was beyond reason, seeming to not realize the deputy had unlocked the cell doors, and he, Banning, was walking around the office a free man, except for the presence of Johnny and the deputy there to watch him.

“I wouldn’t be held accountable for letting him die any more than you would because I …am not… a doctor! Abbott said so, and the whole town agreed with him! The fact that he’s got a bullet in his chest doesn’t change one thing! Not one!”

Johnny was tired of fighting a battle where the man he was fighting for was not fighting for himself. He was tired and all he wanted was to go home to his family, to Lancer.

Why he was fighting so hard for Banning, Johnny didn’t know. Was he the only one trying to make things right? Surely Banning didn’t seem interested in setting things right, and Abbott had been willing to put the blame where it didn’t belong. Johnny thought back to Troupe’s timely entrance into the saloon and with his first honorable action, had shot Abbott before he murdered Johnny with a bullet in his back. He thought back to the hour before coming into the sheriff’s office.

Johnny turned with an icy stare, then walked over to Judah, lying on the dirty saloon floor, and kicked the gun away, out of the man’s reach. A wounded animal was the most dangerous. Then he lowered himself to his haunches and looked down on the face of the wretched man. For the first time since meeting Troupe, Johnny was thankful the sheriff was there, listening — the conversation to come would go a long way in clearing Banning’s name, and Johnny would see to it.

“Ya gonna tell the truth, Abbott, or ya wanna have another chance ta fight me? But lemme tell ya something, we start throwing punches, an’ I guarantee that you’re gonna lose. So, how about it? Ya gonna do the right thing an’ tell the sheriff the truth? Or ya wanna take up where we left off? Your choice. I’ll even tie one arm behind my back just ta make it even. What about it, Abbott?”

The glacial blue glare gripped Judah and held him, constricted and paralyzed. The Abbott name would never be the same, and he knew, with Josh’s passing, there wouldn’t be enough time to correct or repair the damage he caused. For the first time, he, the mighty Judah Abbott, had to face the consequences of his actions.

Defeat shrouded his mind, his body, and he turned to the sheriff and confessed.

And now, here Johnny was fighting again, only this time with angry words. One more try, then he was finished. His voice turned cold, “How about ya fight for yourself! Takin’ that bullet outta Abbott’ll go a long way in supportin’ your case. His son took his own life an’ Abbott’ll admit ta that… if he lives. You save him an’ you save yourself.” Johnny thrust the doctor’s bag toward Banning… and Banning did not take it.

“Not interested, Lancer! I’ll take my chances… let him take his!” Banning walked back into his cell.

Johnny stood by the door, the worn, ragged bag still in his hands; he shrugged and dropped the bag on the sheriff’s desk. That was it. He was done. He opened the door, stepped onto the boardwalk, and shook his head in disgust. That was all he could do. Dammit, all ta Hell! But that was it. It wasn’t as if he could force Banning to take that slug out of Abbott…

Lost in frustrated thought, Johnny didn’t see the wagon until it came closer. Sarah Lockwood and Billy sat on the seat, the back was loaded with citizens of Genesis. He stepped forward, reached up, and helped Sarah to the ground.

He greeted Sarah as she replied, “Hello”; the ladies in the wagon began descending to the ground, each with an armload of goods of one kind or another. They gathered around as Johnny helped Billy off the wagon.

Banning stood in the doorway, the tattered doctor’s bag in hand, and suddenly stopped when he saw the newcomers. Not believing what he was seeing, he took a few steps closer.

Banning was stunned. “What are you doing here?”

Sarah’s heart thundered in her chest; she had treated Dr. Banning horribly when he left Genesis. Could he forgive her? “Oh, after you left, we realized we hadn’t paid you for what you had done for us.”

Banning couldn’t believe what he had heard. “Paid me?” Shock registered on his face.

“We don’t have any money, Mr. Banning, but… Mrs. Kearney baked you a pie, and Mrs. Holt brought you some jelly.” The woman held the treasure in her hand, “Apple!” payment in full for tending little Luther’s slivered foot.

Sarah continued, “And Mrs. Tierney, she brought you some bacon!” Then Sarah turned to Luther. “Luther?”

The little boy spoke up. “An’ I brought ya this!” He held a small pocket knife in his hand. “Ain’t worth much…”

Johnny stepped back. This was Banning’s show now and he’d have to deal with these people. He couldn’t hold back the smile, knowing that Banning was cornered with no escape.

Banning took the knife and tossed it in the air, catching then, satisfied, he turned to the little boy. “Well, thank you, Luther!”

“Welcome.”

Then it was Sarah’s turn. She stood beside Billy, who was dressed in his good shirt and string tie. “And I came to apologize. I guess Scott was right. I did want you to lie. Why didn’t you?”

Johnny backed up a little more. This was between them.

“I don’t know. I just couldn’t… to people like you.” Then he faced Billy. “But I guess I did lie, didn’t I, Bill?”

And before their eyes, Billy Lockwood grew; he became a man in their minds when he responded to Banning’s question. “Oh, it’s alright… really. It’s alright.” He waited a breath, then said, “Mr. Banning? We still need a doctor in Genesis.”

But Johnny’s role wasn’t quite over yet. He didn’t think Banning was buying any of it; nothing any of them had said so far was convincing the man he was needed. So, Johnny did it for him. “Ya know, Billy, that’s interesting cuz Banning just told me he was no more a doctor than I am.” And the statement began to sink in where it was needed the most.

Sarah Lockwood lifted her chin and spoke what was in her heart. “Well, even if that were so, he’d still be welcome in Genesis…” Her dazzling smile went straight to Banning’s unprepared and surprised heart.

And Banning’s mind was made up. He stood straight, gathered his thoughts, and with a grin, he gave his answer. “Sarah? Wait for me!” Then Doctor Banning walked to the saloon where Judah Abbott waited for medical attention.

Johnny tipped his hat to Sarah Lockwood and followed Banning. Sarah threw her arms around her son and kissed his cheek as the tears traced twin paths down her cheeks. Genesis would get their doctor, after all.

<><><><><> 

Epilogue Two years later

Doctor Theodore Banning stepped out onto the boardwalk as evening began to fall. Genesis was settling down for the night. He watched the streets as they began to clear and the citizens sought out the comforts of their homes. Mrs. Holt was on a search for her grandson, Luther, to come home for dinner, and Banning smiled as he thought of the little boy that finally knew the benefits of wearing shoes as opposed to getting slivers in his feet.

Genesis was growing. After the cave-in at the mine that nearly rendered it to ghost town status, it was now becoming a place where a family could flourish and businesses would prosper.

And most of all, it was where Banning had met Sarah Lockwood. She had given him hope, had believed in him when he hadn’t believed in himself, hadn’t believed in much of anything until she entered his life. She encouraged him to finish medical school and awaited his return with the license that officially declared he was a doctor. He turned and made his way to her door where she had supper on the table — a meal of chicken that was bartered in lieu of payment for his services rendered. He smiled, thinking of his arrogance; previously, it had been beneath him, and he would stick to tending the rich, monied people because ‘the poor die too much!’. The rich could pay for his services with money. That was the statement he’d thrown in the faces of the Lancer sons as they waited those long, torturous hours for their father to wake… or not.

But Banning learned to control that arrogance. He’d learned a lot since that night two long years ago. 

Banning now knew the meaning of happiness. It was something his father possessed but had died penniless. He settled the old, worn doctor’s bag under his arm with new respect, realizing what it represented. He had not replaced that broken strap and knew he never would.

June 2023

.

.

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 Buckskin directly.

.