Part 2 Word Count-9,175
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Short Cut To: Part 1…Part 2…Part 3…Part 4…Part 5…Part 6
Lancer Ranch
May 1857
“Patron?”
Murdoch looked up from the ranch ledger, startled that Maria was standing in front of his desk.
“Maria? Did you say something?”
“Si, Patron.”
“I’m sorry. I was so focused, I didn’t hear you.”
She smiled and held up the coffee pot in her right hand. “Café?”
“Thank you. Yes, please.”
Murdoch laid his pencil down and stretched as she poured him a fresh cup. He’d been working on the books all morning and was ready for a break.
“You work too hard, Patron. Since you returned with the nino, you have not taken any time for yourself or the chico.”
“I know, but ….”
“No, Patron. No, but. You must take time to get to know your hijo again, and he needs you as much as you need him.”
Murdoch sighed, “I know.”
“Have you spoken with Juanito of his hermano?” When Murdoch hesitated, Maria shook her head. “No. I can see you have not. Patron….”
Murdoch held up a hand to silence her. “I promise I’ll tell Johnny about his brother soon. I just haven’t found the right time.”
“There will never be the right time, Patron. You have the nino home now. Find the time to speak with him, to get to know him, and to tell him of his hermano.” She started to turn but then looked back. “Patron, your hijo is hurting, and he needs you. You have taken him from the only life he knew.” She stopped holding up a hand, this time silencing Murdoch. “I know. You have taken him away from a life no child should have been living, but it was the only one he knew.
“From what Cipriano told me, the only person the nino loves is the man he calls ‘Papi.’ Juanito was taken from Senor Crawford, and now he is in a strange country with people he does not know.”
“What am I going to do? How do I stop my son’s pain?”
“Patron, that is easy. Juanito does not know what it is like to have a parent’s love.”
“I’ve told him I love him.”
“Si, you have told him, but he needs to be shown love. You are his padre. If you do not show him the love, then who will?”
With that, she turned on her heels and headed for the kitchen.
It had only been three weeks since he’d returned home with his son. There was a lot on the ranch that needed his attention. Finding the right time to talk to Johnny… well, he’d get there.
Murdoch picked up the cup of coffee, leaned back, and sighed, rotating his chair so he was looking out the large window behind his desk.
Closing his eyes, Murdoch thought back to the day he returned home with Johnny. Everyone who lived or worked at the ranch was there to welcome them, and emotions were running high, especially Maria’s. He couldn’t help but chuckle at Johnny’s response when Maria plastered kisses all over his face.
The chair groaned under Murdoch’s weight as he shifted in it. The familiar sight of laughing children racing around the yard put a smile on his face. Suddenly, he realized he’d been doing that a lot in the last month.
After a few moments, he tilted forward, scanning the area, looking for one child in particular. When he didn’t immediately see his son, Murdoch stood and moved closer to the glass. It took a minute, but he realized Johnny wasn’t with the others. Turning, he headed for the kitchen.
“Maria? Maria!”
Maria stepped out of the pantry, shaking her head. “There is no need to yell, Patron. I am here.”
“I’m sorry. Have you seen Johnny?”
“No, Patron, not since breakfast.”
Murdoch turned and retraced his steps back through the Great Room and out the front door. He took three steps into the yard, sidestepping as one of the children almost ran into him.
“Lo siento, Patron,” the child blurted out before turning and rushing back to the others.
Murdoch placed his hands on his hips and once again scanned the yard. Spotting Cipriano near the corral checking a horse’s hoof, he started to move when the vaquero raised his head and turned to look at him. As if reading his Patron’s mind, Cipriano pointed toward the side of the hacienda.
Murdoch nodded his understanding. Turning, he strode around the corner of the house and stopped at one of the low walls enclosing the garden. It didn’t take him long to spot his son.
Johnny was sitting alone on a bench under the large oak in the garden’s center. He had his head down, staring at a spot on the ground near his feet.
Murdoch let out a deep sigh, a heavy weight settling on his chest. He could almost sense his son’s profound despair and felt lost about what to do. It had been three weeks since they arrived home, and Johnny had remained distant, drifting through the days without making any effort to settle in. Murdoch felt lost and helpless, unsure of how to bridge the chasm between them.
He remembered the day they boarded the stage in Tucson. Murdoch had been incredibly happy to be finally heading home with his son. As Johnny leaned out of the coach to wave a frantic goodbye to Val Crawford, he thought nothing of it. However, when Johnny finally pulled himself back inside, it was as if he were a different boy. He slumped into the seat with a heavy sigh, looking as if all the hope and joy had been taken away from him.
Johnny made the two-week trip home in almost complete silence. Yes, he answered direct questions, but it was like pulling teeth to get an entire sentence out of him. Since the day they arrived at Lancer, the boy had at least responded to Maria and called Cipriano Tio, but stubbornly still addressed Murdoch as Señor.
Nothing had gone as he’d imagined. Johnny’s appetite or lack of it, and even Maria’s cooking, didn’t seem to be putting weight on him. He hadn’t made any friends among the other children on the ranch, and the only child Murdoch had seen Johnny speak to was four-year-old Teresa. Even then, he thought it was more to keep the girl from pestering him.
Johnny was never harsh with Teresa, but when she started bothering him, Johnny simply walked away, leaving Teresa in tears. The little girl ran to Paul the first time it happened, saying, “Johnny don’t like me.” It took Paul and Maria, along with cookies and milk, to calm her down.
Watching Johnny now, Murdoch’s heart ached for his son. There had to be something he could do, but what?
Murdoch heard Cipriano approaching. Turning to look at his friend, he shook his head. “What am I going to do?”
Cipriano peered over the wall. “I do not know.”
“Has he shown any interest in anything?”
“Si.”
Surprised, Murdoch turned to face Cipriano. “What?”
Cipriano smiled. “Today, the men were working the new mustangs. Juanito was watching. Patron, he was smiling.”
“Smiling? You mean a real smile?”
“Si. The men told me they watched him closely so that he did not go into the corral with the horses, but they could tell he wanted to help.”
“Horses. I should have known. Remember when Johnny was small, every time we lost him, we’d find him headed for the barn.”
“Si, I remember. I also remember Juanito always wanted to ride with you.”
“I doubt he wants to do that now. He can barely look at me.” Murdoch thought for a moment before speaking again, “I have an idea. Cipriano, would you have one of the men saddle my horse and the pony we bought for Johnny? I’m taking my boy for a ride.”
Cipriano was grinning as he walked away.
Stepping into the garden, Murdoch cleared his throat. Johnny’s head came up, and he jumped to his feet. “I’m sorry I startled you, Son. I’ve been looking for you.”
“I have been here, Señor. Is there something you want me to do?”
Murdoch walked across the garden and sat on the bench. “Sit down, John. I want to ask you something.”
Johnny did as he was told, but Murdoch noticed Johnny sat as far from him as the small bench allowed.
“Son….,” Murdoch started and stopped. Johnny had lowered his head, his hair covering his face. Murdoch reached over and placed a hand under Johnny’s chin, lifting it. “Look at me, Johnny.”
Johnny raised his eyes, looking through thick, dark lashes with sad eyes.
“John, I was planning to ride out to Black Mesa. Would you like to come with me?”
Johnny’s brow furrowed.
“I have Cipriano saddling our horses, and we can take along a lunch.”
Still no response.
“There’s a herd of palominos out there I’ve meant to check on. You seem to know something about horses, and I’d like your opinion.”
That got a reaction. Murdoch could see a brief spark of excitement in the boy’s eyes. “So, what do you think? Want to go with me?”
Johnny shrugged.
Murdoch stood and turned to go. “Well, if you change your mind….”
“I did not say I did not want to go,” Johnny blurted out.
Murdoch stopped. He gazed down at his son. “So, you do want to go?”
Johnny frowned.
“What is it?”
“Just me?” Johnny asked hesitantly. “You want to go with just me?”
“That’s right. I believe it’s time for us to spend some time alone together. Since we got home, I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had a chance to ride out and personally check on the ranch. Since it’s your ranch as well, I thought this would be a good opportunity for you to see it with me.”
Johnny’s face relaxed, and there was a faint smile on his handsome face. Murdoch decided it was better than nothing.
Father and son rode in silence for almost an hour. When they left the ranch, Murdoch tried several times to talk to Johnny, but the boy didn’t respond. Finally, he’d given up.
Murdoch tried again as they reined to a stop on the ridge overlooking Black Mesa. “That’s where we’re headed.” Murdoch pointed to the green valley below. “That river makes it a perfect place for all types of wildlife, especially horses. Do you see any?”
Johnny, wearing the slightly oversized hat Maria picked out for him, a red bandana around his neck, and a new pair of chaps made especially for him by his uncle, raised up in his saddle and looked at the river that ran from one end of the valley to the other. The black and white pony he rode sidestepped. Johnny reseated himself and settled the pony down.
“No, Señor.”
Two words. Murdoch grinned. He’d gotten two words out of his son. Well, it was a start.
“Let’s ride down and see what we can find. Just stay on the path.”
Johnny nodded and kicked his pony’s sides. Murdoch took a deep breath and followed.
They were halfway down the trail when Murdoch realized Johnny was getting further ahead of him. “Johnny, slow down. Wait for me.”
The boy’s reaction was to go even faster. Before Murdoch knew it, Johnny was racing toward the bottom of the trail, leaning low over his pony’s neck, his hat bouncing on his back held on by the stampede string.
A worried father started to yell for his son to slow down, but an unfamiliar sound stopped him. Laughter. Johnny was laughing.
When the trail leveled off, Johnny reined back and looked behind him. Murdoch was working his way down the track. The smile on the boy’s face slipped away when he saw his father’s expression.
Murdoch reached Johnny’s side and saw the look on the boy’s face. Instinctively, he knew this was a pivotal point in their relationship.
“Johnny, are you alright?”
Johnny hesitated, afraid he would be yelled at. “Si, Señor.”
“You know, you scared me.”
Johnny dipped his head. “Lo siento, Señor.”
“That’s alright, this time, but do me a favor and don’t do it again. Your old man’s heart can’t stand it.”
Johnny looked up to see Murdoch smiling.
“That was some good riding, son. You said you could handle a horse, and I have to admit you were right.”
“Papi….” Johnny started, letting his voice trail off after only one word.
“I know. Val taught you to ride, didn’t he? Well, he did a good job. I’m proud of you.”
Johnny’s weak smile told Murdoch he’d said the right thing. Reaching over, he ruffled the boy’s hair. “Now, how about you and I go find those horses?”
Murdoch turned his horse to the east, following the winding river. He knew Johnny would be close behind. It wasn’t long before they found what they were looking for in the valley. A herd of thirty Palomino mares, many with foals, were grazing on the far side of the river.
Murdoch motioned for Johnny to follow him as they slowly circled the herd, then stopped and watched. “Johnny, look over there.” Murdoch pointed to the opposite hill where a black stallion watched over the herd.
“He is magnífico,” Johnny whispered in awe. Then, scanning the area, he asked, “Which mare is the leader?”
Murdoch smiled. His son knew his horses and how a female led a herd. It took him only a moment before pointing to one of the mares.
“That one. The sorrel. See how she keeps looking around while the others graze?”
They watched the herd for another half hour before Murdoch motioned for them to leave. “Come on, son. I know a special place we can have lunch.”
Murdoch led the way to a small pool backdropped by a waterfall. Dismounting, he waited for Johnny to do the same before loosening the cinches on both horses.
Murdoch unfolded a blanket he had brought and spread it on the ground before opening his saddlebags. Once he had the feast Maria had packed laid out, he motioned to Johnny. “Sit down. I think there’s a little of everything here. Maria did herself proud.”
Johnny sat on the edge of the blanket. His eyes darted from his father to the food.
Murdoch unwrapped sandwiches made of thick slabs of bread and sliced beef. Handing one to Johnny, he said, “Dig in.”
Johnny took a big bite of his sandwich, and Murdoch did the same. “Good, isn’t it?”
With his mouth full, Johnny only nodded and, without swallowing, took another bite. When it looked like the boy was slowing down, Murdoch lay back and propped up on one elbow.
“Had enough to eat?”
Johnny sighed and then burped. “Si. Gracias.”
Murdoch laughed. “Feel like a siesta?”
Johnny lay on his back, put his hand behind his head, and stared at the sky. Soon, Murdoch heard the boy’s breathing level out.
Murdoch stretched out on his back and put his hat over his eyes, deciding a siesta was an excellent idea.
Sometime later, Murdoch woke to the sound of splashing water. Lifting his hat from his face, Murdoch raised his head and looked around. Johnny was no longer on the blanket beside him. Sitting up, he spotted him in the water. It took a few moments to realize the boy had shed all his clothes.
Tempted to join his son, Murdoch looked at the sun’s position and thought better of it. It was time they headed home.
“Johnny,” Murdoch said, pushing himself to his feet. “We have to leave soon if we want to get home in time for dinner. You’d better get out and dry off.”
Johnny turned and looked at his father. There was a smile on the boy’s face. “Can we not stay a little longer? I like the water.”
Murdoch’s heart melted. How could he refuse such a request? “All right, just a few more minutes, then no arguments. We head home.”
Johnny grinned, threw his arms wide, and fell backward into the water. He sank for a brief moment and then came up laughing.
“Come in with me, Senor,” Johnny begged.
Moving closer to the water’s edge, Murdoch responded, “No, I’ll stay out here where it’s dry.”
Squatting, Murdoch watched as his son swam to the center of the pond and back. His attention was momentarily drawn to the horses when he was doused with water. Quickly turning his head, he saw a gleeful Johnny covering his mouth with both hands.
“Why, you little scamp,” Murdoch responded. “I’ll teach you….” Murdoch reached into the water, scooped up a handful, and threw it back at the boy.
For the next few minutes, father and son splashed water on each other and laughed, really laughed. Finally, Murdoch raised both hands in surrender and stepped away from the pond.
Murdoch walked back to the blanket and sat down. Looking down at his clothes, he was amazed to see they were soaked. Looking up, he watched Johnny leave the water and run to the blanket, plopping down beside him.
Johnny looked at Murdoch and laughed, “Señor, you are wet.”
“I suppose I should have just gone for a swim, after all,” Murdoch laughed. He reached into his back pocket, took out a handkerchief, and wiped his face.
Murdoch smiled when Johnny lay down and spread out his arms, letting the sun dry his tan body. Thinking about what Maria said that morning about getting to know his son and letting Johnny know him, Murdoch decided he should give the woman a raise. Just seeing Johnny smile and hearing his laughter was worth more to him than anything.
Murdoch and Johnny had been racing until they reached the arch. While both slowed down, it was clear to anyone watching that the Patron’s hijo had won the race, and it was also clear that the Patron had let him win.
Ranch hands were smiling as the two entered the yard. It was the first time they’d seen the boy laugh, and a long time since they’d seen their jefe smile.
Stopping at the barn, Johnny jumped from his pony and waited for Murdoch to dismount. “Señor, I will take the horses.” Johnny’s enthusiasm was evident as he reached for the reins of Murdoch’s horse.
“No, son.” Murdoch held up a hand. “Why don’t we let one of the hands take them this time?”
As if on cue, one of the vaqueros, Manuel, walked up, took both horses, and walked them to the barn.
Murdoch put an arm around Johnny’s shoulder and turned him towards the house. “Go on in and get cleaned up for dinner.”
Cipriano reached Murdoch’s side as Johnny took off running. “You had a good day, Patron?”
Murdoch slapped his friend on the back. “You don’t know how good. We stopped by the pond near Black Mesa, and he played in the water, … we played, and he laughed.”
“I am happy for you, mi amigo.”
“Tonight, after dinner, I’m going to tell him about his brother.”
“I am glad. It is time Juanito knew.”
“Yes. Yes, it is.”
Murdoch almost skipped as he entered the house and started for the kitchen. He could hear Johnny’s excited voice speaking in Spanish to Maria. Moving closer to the doorway, he peered in, unashamed of eavesdropping. Johnny was stuffing cookies into his mouth.
“English, nino. You must practice your English. Now tell me about your day.”
Johnny swallowed and switched to English. “We went to see the horses.”
“Where?”
“Black Mesa. There were so many of them.” Johnny stuffed another cookie into his mouth. “I could have stayed and watched them all day.”
“Then what did you do? Did you eat the lunch I packed?”
“Si. I mean, yes. We stopped beside a pond where there was a waterfall. I had two sandwiches and a piece of cake.”
“Go on.”
Johnny took a long drink of milk. “Then, then we went swimming…. well, I went swimming but….”
“Slow down, nino. Do not talk with your mouth full.”
Johnny smiled and then nodded. Swallowing, he started to take another bite but stopped himself. “Did you know the señor likes to play in the water?” Johnny bubbled. “He does. He likes the water.”
“I did not know that. Did the Patron go swimming with you?”
“No. I went swimming. You should have seen the señor’s face when I splashed him with water.”
Maria laughed along with the boy, then caught sight of a smiling Murdoch standing near the door.
“Juanito, why do you still call the Patron ‘Señor’? You know it would gladden his heart if you called him Papa.”
Johnny dropped his head- the cookies forgotten.
Maria walked over to the table and placed a hand on his shoulder.
Johnny looked up at her, tears in his eyes, and slowly shook his head. “I cannot. I…,” Johnny swallowed hard, lowering his head again. “I just….”
“I am sorry, sobrino.” She squeezed Johnny’s shoulder. “It will be all right. It will come in time.”
Maria leaned over and kissed the top of the boy’s head before wiping her eyes with the corner of her apron and moving back to the stove.
“Now, tell me, what else did you do today?”
Johnny ran his arm across his eyes and sighed. Picking up another cookie, he took a small bite before speaking. “On the way back to the hacienda, we raced.”
“Who won?”
“I did,” Johnny proclaimed proudly.
“You must have a very fast pony to have won against the Patron.”
“My pony is the fastest.”
Johnny paused and laid down the cookie.
“What is wrong, nino?”
“Do you think the señor let me win?”
“I …” Maria looked at Murdoch, seeking guidance. Murdoch quickly shook his head. “No,” Maria drew the word out, “Your Papa would have tried very hard to win.”
Murdoch decided he needed to make an appearance. “Maria, those cookies smell wonderful. Do you happen to have any left?”
Maria smiled, “Si, Patron. Sit. Juanito has not eaten all of them. Do you want café or milk?”
“Coffee, please. So, John, are the cookies good?”
With his mouth full, Johnny could only nod.
“Don’t eat too many. You don’t want to spoil your dinner.”
Maria laughed as she put a cup of coffee and a plate with two oatmeal cookies in front of him. “Do not fear, Patron. Our nino is always hungry.”
“I’ve noticed that.” Murdoch took a bite of the cookie. “Good. Very good. Maria, I believe these are the best cookies you’ve ever made. Don’t you agree, Son?”
“Si, muy bien… I mean, yes, very good.”
After the last of the cookies were gone, Murdoch and Johnny were ushered out of the kitchen so Maria could finish preparing dinner.
Murdoch put a hand on Johnny’s shoulder and led him into the Great Room. Johnny was in such a good mood that Murdoch decided not to wait until after dinner to talk to him about his brother.
“Johnny, sit down.” Murdoch waved a hand towards the sofa. “There’s something I’ve wanted to talk to you about.”
Johnny froze with a look on his face as if he were trying to figure out what he’d done wrong.
Murdoch laughed, “You haven’t done anything wrong, and you’re not in trouble. There’s something I need to tell you.”
Murdoch eased down on the large sofa. Johnny sat as far from his father as he could get, placed his hands in his lap, and stared at them.
Murdoch cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and began. “Son, before I met and married your mother, I was married once before.”
Johnny’s head came up to look at Murdoch. “You had another esposa before Mama?”
“That’s right. You see… well….” Murdoch exhaled, unsure how to word this so that Johnny would understand. “Fifteen years ago, I came to America from Scotland. The ship I was on landed in Boston, and I lived there for almost a year when I met a young woman and fell in love.” Murdoch stood and walked to the large globe in the corner of the room. “Come here, let me show you.”
Johnny scooted off the sofa and walked across the room to stand next to the globe. He’d often wondered what it was.
Murdoch turned the orb until his finger found a small spot of land. “This is Scotland. That’s where I was born.”
Johnny looked up at his father and cocked his head. “You are not from here?”
“No. Only Mexicans and Indians are native to California.”
Murdoch slowly turned the sphere, his finger tracing a line across a vast expanse of blue. “This is the Atlantic Ocean, and it separates Europe from the Americas.”
Johnny’s eyes narrowed.
Murdoch pushed on. “This is where my ship landed.” He pointed to a small spot on the east coast of the Americas. “This is Boston.”
Johnny touched the spot and looked up again. “Where are we?”
Murdoch turned the globe again, tracing his finger across the Continent, stopping on California.
“So far.”
“Yes, it is.” Murdoch put a hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “Come back and sit down. There’s a lot I need to tell you.”
Johnny reluctantly left the globe and went back to his place on the sofa.
“As I said, I met a woman; her name was Catherine Garrett. We fell in love and married. Shortly after the wedding, we took a ship from Boston to California. I bought this land, and we started building the ranch. There were a lot of obstacles to overcome. At the time, California was still part of Mexico. We had to become Mexican citizens, and we also had to become Catholic.”
Murdoch watched Johnny as he stared at his hands. He knew he was losing the boy’s interest.
“Within the year, Catherine told me she was expecting a child, our child.”
Johnny’s head popped up. That got his attention.
“It’s a long story I won’t go into now, but there was trouble here and I had to send Catherine away from the ranch. Catherine’s father, Harlan, had come from Boston to take her back there until it was safe to return. He met her on the trail between Lancer and San Francisco.” Murdoch sighed. “Catherine went into labor before they got to San Francisco.”
Johnny inched himself closer to Murdoch and placed a hand on his father’s arm. “Señor, what happened?”
Murdoch covered the small hand with his own. “Catherine… died giving birth to our son. Harlan buried Catherine and took the baby back to Boston with him.”
Johnny swallowed hard. “You have another son?”
Murdoch nodded. “His name is Scott, and he’s eleven now.”
“I have an hermano? A hermano mayor?”
“That’s right. You have a big brother.”
“You met my mama after mi hermano’s mama died?”
Murdoch nodded. “Yes, a couple of years later.”
“Why is he not here?”
“I’ve tried to bring him home, but his grandfather won’t let me have him.”
Johnny stood and walked back to the globe. He ran his finger over the area Murdoch pointed out was Boston. Without looking up, he asked, “He is in Boston?”
“Yes, he is.”
Johnny turned to look at Murdoch. Striding across the room, he stood in front of the tall rancher, placed his hands on his hips, and declared, “We will go to this Boston and bring mi hermano here. You are the Patron, and you need your hijo mayor by your side.”
“I need both my hijos, Johnny.”
Johnny looked down and frowned. He thought for a long moment before replying, “Si, but the oldest is the most important.”
“No, son. You’re both important to me. Lancer is as much yours as it is your brothers’. This isn’t Mexico any longer. When the time comes, both of you will own the ranch, not just the oldest son.”
“You did not answer. When do we go to Boston?”
“Johnny, it isn’t that easy. I have the ranch to consider, and there’s a lot to do here….”
Johnny turned and ran out of the room through the French doors without a word.
Murdoch sat on the sofa, staring at his departing son, knowing Johnny was disappointed in him. Hearing the rustling of a woman’s skirt, he looked up to see Maria standing in the Dining Room.
“You told him?”
Murdoch sighed, “I told him. I don’t think he took it well.”
“Give him time, Patron. The nino is still getting used to being here. To find out he had an older brother may have been ….”
She turned at the sound of someone rushing through the French doors. Johnny had Paul O’Brien by one hand and Cipriano by the other.
“Slow down, Johnny. We’re coming,” Paul said as Johnny dragged him into the room.
Murdoch stood. “What’s happening?”
Paul shrugged. “He just came running out and grabbed Cipriano and me, and he said we had to come inside.”
All three men and Maria looked down at the boy.
“John, would you mind telling me what’s going on?”
Johnny nodded. “You said we could not go to bring mi hermano back to the ranch because there was too much to do.” He looked up at Paul and smiled. “Señor Paul is your Segundo. He can run the ranch and….” Johnny took Cipriano’s hand and tugged him closer. “Tio Cipriano can help. Can’t you?”
“Son….”
“No, Señor. You want your hijo here, and I want him here.”
“What’s he talking about, Murdoch?” Paul asked.
“I told Johnny about his brother. Now he wants to go to Boston to get him and bring him back to Lancer.”
Paul looked at Cipriano and Maria and then back at Murdoch. “I think it’s a great idea. It’s about time you brought that boy home where he belongs.”
“There’s too much to do here. I can’t just drop everything and….”
“Patron, there is always too much to do.” Cipriano smiled. “If you wait, you will never bring your hijo home. Go now. Señor Paul and I can do what is needed here.”
“It will take months to get there and back.”
“Yes, it will,” Paul agreed.
“We have the round-up and branding to do.”
“Si,” Cipriano chimed in.
“Then the cattle drive.”
This time, both men nodded.
“And all of these things we can do, Patron. We have done them before when you were away looking for Juanito. We will do them again while you go to bring Señor Scott home.”
Murdoch looked at the two men he trusted most in the world and then down at his youngest son. Brilliant blue eyes looked at him expectantly.
Murdoch threw his hands in the air in surrender. “All right. You win. We’ll go to Boston and bring Scott home.”
Johnny turned and ran toward the stairs.
“Hold on, young man. Where are you going?”
Johnny stopped on the second step and turned to look at Murdoch. “To get my things.”
“We can’t leave yet. I want to wait until the round-up is over.”
Johnny stuck out his lower lip.
“Don’t pout. It will only be two weeks, and that will give me time to make our travel arrangements and finish the round-up.”
Everyone laughed as the grin on Johnny’s face lit up the room.
Paul saw Murdoch ride over the slight knoll above the herd. The Segundo smiled as he watched his boss stand up in his stirrups to take in the milling cattle below.
The round-up had been going on for almost a week. Thanks to Cipriano’s organized teamwork and well-trained vaqueros, they would be done today.
Paul rode through the cattle to greet his boss as Murdoch called out, “How’s it going?”
“We have almost all of them. Cip is bringing in the last of them now.” Paul pointed to the west, where Cipriano and a dozen men herded the last of the spring calves. “We’ll have it wrapped up today.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Did you get all the travel arrangements completed?”
Murdoch nodded. “Got the final confirmation this morning. We’ll leave the day after tomorrow. I’ve booked passage on a steamer leaving San Francisco Harbor in eight days. We should be in San Francisco in three days, and that will give us a couple of days in the city before the ship sails.”
“You were able to get a direct sailing to Boston?”
“No. The only ship available docks in New York. From there, we’ll take the train to Boston.”
“How long do you think it’s going to take? I remember my trip here, and it was close to four months.”
“Things are a bit faster now that the new Panama Canal Railroad is open. We’ll be able to cut across the Isthmus of Panama from Balboa to Colón in a little over four hours.”
“Four hours? I remember sailing around the Horn.”
“I made that trip once, and I’m thankful I don’t have to do it again. The last time I went east, I cut across Panama, but it was dangerous. I wouldn’t want to take either of the boys that way if there was an alternative.”
Paul knew Murdoch was talking about the first trip he and Catherine made to California and the last time he’d gone to Boston, six years ago, trying to bring Scott home.
“I think we have a few days to rest in Colón on the Atlantic Coast of Panama before we have to board the steamer that takes us north to New York.”
“So, how long do you think it will take you to get to Boston?”
Murdoch sighed, tired just thinking about it. “By the time we get to Boston, I’m guessing fifty or sixty days.”
“I don’t envy you that trip, but if you have Scott with you when you come back, it’ll be worth it.”
“It will definitely be worth it.”
“I bet the boy’s excited.”
Murdoch shook his head. “I’m not sure. We’re making progress, but we’re still not as close as I’d like. He keeps his distance.”
“It’s going to take time, and you’ll have plenty of that on the trip.”
“Yes, I suppose we will.”
“Speak of the devil.” Paul looked over Murdoch’s shoulder. Lately, the two seemed to be inseparable. He hadn’t seen his friend this happy since before Maria left the ranch, taking Johnny with her.
Murdoch turned in the saddle to see Johnny riding toward them on the black and white pony Murdoch found in Spanish Wells.
“He rode out with me. This being the last day of branding, I wanted him to see what it was like.”
Johnny reined to a stop next to Murdoch.
“Well, son, there they are. The herd Paul and the men rounded up for this year’s cattle drive. What do you think?”
Paul smiled when Johnny stood in his stirrups and stretched like Murdoch had done only minutes ago. “How many cattle are there, Señor?”
Murdoch turned to Paul for the answer. “Well, Johnny, by our figures, we have close to 3,000 head. That means we’re going to show a good profit this year.”
Murdoch nodded. “We’re going to need it.”
Paul knew what his boss meant. The trip to and from Boston, plus expenses for Murdoch and Johnny to get there, and Scott on the return trip, would cut deep into the ranch profits for at least the next three years.
In the distance, they could hear calves bawling.
“John, have you ever seen cattle branded?” Murdoch asked, watching the expression on his son’s face.
“No, Señor. Can I go watch?”
Murdoch turned to Paul for his approval.
“I don’t see why not,” Paul answered with a smile. “Be sure to stay out of the vaquero’s way.”
Johnny started to go, then turned and looked at Murdoch and Paul. “Remember, Señor, Maria said we must be back at the hacienda early tonight.”
Paul cocked his head questioningly.
“Maria’s prepared a feast for tonight because it is the last day of the round-up. She said for you and Cipriano not to be late,” Murdoch replied, answering Paul’s unasked question.
Turning back to Johnny, he said, “I remember. Go ahead, Son, but be careful and stay out of the men’s way.”
Johnny kicked his pony’s sides and started toward the herd at a gallop.
“Johnny, slow down!” Murdoch shouted.
“Murdoch, he’s riding too fast.” There was no mistaking the alarm in Paul’s voice. “He’ll spook the herd.”
“Johnny!”
Murdoch raced down the slope, gaining ground as he went. Leaning over, he grabbed Johnny’s reins, causing the pony to back into Murdoch’s horse.
Both Johnny’s and Murdoch’s horses reared. Johnny was able to keep his seat, but Murdoch wasn’t as lucky. He sailed off the back of his horse and hit the ground with a resounding thud.
Jumping down, Johnny ran to Murdoch’s prone body. “Senor! Senor!”
From where he was, Paul saw Johnny place a hand on his father’s neck and then his chest.
By the time Paul reached Murdoch, Johnny was standing over his father, fists clenched. He turned to look at Paul with muddy streaks down his face. “He is …. He is dead.” Johnny’s voice faltered. “It is my fault.”
Paul knelt next to Murdoch and put a hand on his friend’s neck. There was a strong, steady pulse. Looking up, he could see Johnny was staring at the blood dripping from the corner of his father’s mouth. Before he could answer the boy, the ranch hands and vaqueros started circling their boss. Paul lost sight of Johnny as he backed away from the circle of men.
“Manuel, get a wagon. We’ll take him back to the house. A couple of you men give us a hand getting him loaded.”
Paul looked around, searching for Johnny. All he could see was a cloud of dust thrown up by the boy’s pony as he rode north.
“Cip, I’ll stay with Murdoch. You go after Johnny. Bring him back to the house.”
“Señor Paul, is the Patron…?”
“I don’t think he’s hurt that bad. I know there will be hell to pay if Johnny isn’t there when he wakes up. Go after him.”
As Paul supervised Murdoch being loaded into the wagon, he saw Cipriano riding after Johnny.
“Miguel, you and three others come with us back to the house.” Paul waved his hand. “The rest of you finish up the branding.”
The men waited until the wagon was on its way back to the ranch before returning to the branding pits.
“Daddy, Uncle Murdoch’s hurt.” Teresa, tears streaming down her face, ran from the hacienda and into her father’s arms
“I know, darling.” Paul picked the little girl up and held her to his chest, rubbing her back.
“Is he going to die?” Teresa sobbed, placing her face into Paul’s neck.
“No. Murdoch’s not going to die. He’ll be alright once Doc Jenkins sees him.”
Teresa lifted her head, sniffling. “You’re sure?”
Paul smiled at his daughter. “I’m sure.” Taking a bandana from his back pocket, he wiped Teresa’s face, then held it to her nose. “Now, blow.”
Teresa took a breath through her mouth and did as she was told.
“Now, I want you to go into the kitchen and wait for Maria. She’ll be down in a few minutes. She has to see that Uncle Murdoch is settled. All right?”
Teresa nodded as Paul set her feet back on the ground. “Daddy, where’s Johnny? He rode out with Uncle Murdoch. Is Johnny alright?”
Paul looked back towards the arch before answering. There was no sign of Cipriano or the boy. “Johnny will be along in a little while.” Paul patted his daughter on the back and pushed her towards the door. “Now, go on.”
Manuel led three men out of the house as Teresa ran inside. The vaquero stopped in front of Paul, allowing the others to pass.
“Señor Paul, the Patron is in his room, and he is asking for his hijo.”
Paul glanced up at Murdoch’s bedroom window, thankful the glass was still in place. He’d heard his boss bellowing earlier.
“I know, Manuel. I don’t know what to tell him. Cipriano’s not back yet.”
“Why did Juanito ride away? It was not his fault. It could have happened to any of us.”
“I know, but Johnny doesn’t. I think he thought he’d caused the accident and that the Patron was hurt worse than he is.”
“I understand.” Manuel nodded. “Señor, does Juanito believe the Patron is dead—that he killed him?”
“Yes, I think that’s exactly what Johnny believes. Hopefully, Cipriano can make him see the truth.”
“If you need anything, jefe, let me know. I will go back out and make sure the branding is finished.”
“Thank you, Manuel.”
Paul turned and placed his hands on the hitching post. Bending forward, he took a deep breath and relived the last hour in his mind. It had started as a beautiful day when everything was going right for once. He should have known it was too good to be true.
Paul heard Murdoch yelling again and cringed.
“Where the hell is Cipriano?” Paul mumbled, again looking towards the arch. “Surely, it doesn’t take this long to catch up with a six-year-old on a pony.”
It hadn’t taken Cipriano long to find Johnny. What had taken time was calming the boy down.
When Cipriano found Johnny, he was sitting against a tree, his legs pulled to his chest and his face buried in his arms. Cipriano dismounted and walked slowly toward the boy.
“Sobrino.”
Johnny didn’t raise his head.
“Nino, it is all right. You must come back to the hacienda.”
Still buried in his arms, Johnny shook his head.
Cipriano sat next to his nephew and waited until the boy’s sobs stopped.
“The Señor is muerto, is he not?”
Cipriano put a hand on Johnny’s shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. “No, nino. The Patron is not dead. He was only stunned. Señor Paul is taking him to the hacienda where el médico can tend to him.”
“There was blood. I saw blood.”
“Si, muy poco. It was nothing.”
Johnny raised his head. Red, swollen eyes searched his uncle’s face for the truth. “Es la verdad? No me mentirías?”
“It is the truth and, no, sobrino, I would not lie to you.”
Johnny leaned against the older man’s chest and buried his head in his shirt. Cipriano placed his arms around the boy and held him close. “Lo siento, tío. No quise hacerle daño.”
(I am sorry, uncle. I did not mean to hurt him.)
“It will be all right, little one. It was not your fault.”
They stayed that way for a few more minutes. Cipriano glanced at the sky, realizing how late it was getting.
“We have to go home now, Juanito.”
Johnny leaned back and nodded.
Paul was waiting in the Great Room when the front door opened, and Cipriano stepped inside. He looked past Cipriano, but there was no sign of Johnny.
“Where’s the boy?”
“The barn.”
Paul looked skyward, giving a silent ‘Thank the Lord.’
“Well, go get him. Murdoch’s been asking for him.”
Cipriano shook his head. “He will not come inside. I got him to come with me, but I cannot get him out of the barn, and he will not come into the hacienda.”
Both men jumped when Murdoch yelled, “Paul! Paul, is that Cipriano?”
“You’d better go up and tell him,” Paul announced.
Cipriano took a step back and shook his head. “No, Señor. Not me. You are the Segundo, and I am only a lowly vaquero.”
Paul laughed, “You’re the boy’s uncle. You’re his blood.”
“Si, Senor Paul, and I ….”
“See, you agree.” Paul pointed a finger at Cipriano. “It should be you who tells….”
“Where’s Johnny?” Murdoch roared.
“Murdoch, you stay in that bed.” Sam’s raised voice urged the stubborn rancher to stay put. “I’ll go check with Paul.”
Paul and Cipriano were watching the stairs when Sam hurried down. They half expected to see their boss following the doctor.
“Where the blazes is Johnny? I’m not going to be able to keep Murdoch in bed much longer.”
Paul pointed towards the open French doors. “Cipriano says he’s in the barn.”
“The barn? Why? Is there something wrong with him?”
“No, the nino fears the Patron will be angry with him.”
“Angry? Why would…?”
“Juanito feels it was his fault the Patron was hurt. Senor Sam, when I found Juanito, he was very frightened, and he thought the Patron dead.”
“SAM!” Murdoch’s voice rang through the hacienda.
“Paul, I don’t care how you do it, but get that boy up to Murdoch’s room.”
“I’ll do my best, Sam, but from what Cipriano says….”
“Just do it.”
Sam turned and stomped back up the stairs while Paul headed for the barn. Over his shoulder, he ordered, “Cipriano, you come with me. If we have to, we’ll hog tie the boy and carry him upstairs.”
Paul and Cipriano entered the barn and stopped, allowing their eyes to adjust to the lower light.
“Johnny,” Paul’s voice was soft and low. “Johnny, where are you?”
A rustling sound came from a stall a few feet away. Johnny peered out from around the corner.
Paul took two steps forward and waited. Johnny inched into the barn’s center aisle, shafts of light passing through the stalls’ rough boards, revealing specks of dust floating around the boy’s dark head.
As Cipriano moved forward to stand next to his nephew, Paul walked forward and knelt in front of the boy. “John, are you alright? We’ve been worried about you.”
Johnny didn’t answer, only lowered his head.
“Johnny, it wasn’t your fault, and no one is going to be angry with you.”
Johnny raised his head.
“You know your Pa’s been asking for you. Doc Sam is having a heck of a time keeping him in bed.”
Surprised, Johnny said, “He is alive?”
“That’s right, he’s alive.”
“And he wants to see me?”
“He does, very much.”
Johnny hesitated a moment, then, without a word, he broke away from Cipriano and Paul and ran out of the barn towards the house. They were right behind the boy as he stomped up the stairs and down the hall to Murdoch’s room.
Sam Jenkins was checking Murdoch’s pulse when Johnny bolted into the room and skidded to a stop.
“It’s about time you got here, young man,” Sam said as he laid Murdoch’s arm down.
Murdoch raised his head and smiled. “Johnny, I’ve been worried about you.”
Johnny bounded onto the bed, throwing himself on his father’s chest. Murdoch wrapped his arms around the boy.
“Lo siento, Señor.” Johnny sobbed. “Lo siento,”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Son. It was an accident.”
“I did not mean to hurt you.”
“I’m not hurt all that bad. Am I Sam?”
“No, Johnny, I’d say he just got the wind knocked out of him. He did hit his head, but as hard as it is, there wasn’t any damage.”
Johnny raised his head to look at Murdoch’s smiling face. “You are really alright?”
“Yes, I’m really alright. Now, dry those tears.”
Sam handed Murdoch a wet washcloth. Murdoch started to wipe his son’s face when Johnny raised up and took the cloth from him.
“I can do it, Papa.”
Johnny wasn’t watching the faces of the men in the room as he wiped his eyes and face. Cipriano, Sam, and Paul were grinning. Murdoch looked as if it was his turn to cry.
When Johnny was finished, he handed the washcloth to Sam and lay his head back on Murdoch’s chest.
Cipriano and Paul eased out of the room.
“Murdoch, we’ll be downstairs if you need us,” Sam said, closing the door behind him.
Murdoch only nodded. When they were gone, he took a breath before speaking, “Johnny, I’m sorry I scared you.”
Johnny nodded but didn’t lift his head. “I was afraid. I saw blood … and I thought you were dead.”
“I bit the inside of my mouth when I fell. That’s the blood you saw.”
Johnny raised his head and looked deep into Murdoch’s eyes. “Promise you will not fall from your horse again.”
“I promise I’ll try, but if I do, you have to promise not to ride off. I needed you by my side.”
“I promise, Papa.”
Murdoch’s heart skipped a beat. That was twice in the space of a minute, his boy had called him Papa.
There was a knock on the door. Without waiting, the door opened, and Teresa slipped into the room and walked over to the side of the bed.
“Uncle Murdoch?” the little girl whispered. “Uncle Murdoch, are you alright?”
Murdoch turned his head to the side. Teresa’s blue eyes just came above the edge of the mattress.
“Teresa, does your father know you’re up here?”
Teresa shook her head. “No, but I had to find out how you were. No one tells me anything.”
Her eyes went to the fully clothed Johnny still lying on Murdoch’s chest, sound asleep.
“Uncle Murdoch, Maria isn’t going to be happy with Johnny on the bed with his boots on.”
“It’s alright, sweetheart. I don’t think she’ll mind this one time.”
Behind them, the door to the bedroom once again opened. This time, Maria walked in, shaking her head.
“There you are, Nina. I have been looking for you. It is almost time for dinner, and you must go wash.”
“Mamacita, Johnny’s in Uncle Murdoch’s bed with his boots on.”
Maria smiled at the child’s outburst. “I see that, and I will talk to him about his boots. Your Papa and Cipriano are in the Great Room. You go now and clean up.”
“I’ll come back and see you later, Uncle Murdoch,” Teresa called over her shoulder as she hurried out of the room.
“Thank you, Teresa.”
Once the little girl was gone, Maria glanced down at Johnny. “Do you want me to take him, Patron?”
“I hate to let him go. I’ve waited a long time to hold him like this.”
“Si, a very long time.”
“Did you know he called me Papa?”
“Si,” Maria smiled. “I know. Cipriano and Señor Sam told me. Cipriano said the nino was frightened you were dead. I think he has found the love for you that has been hidden for so many years.”
“I hope so. I’ve waited a long time for him to accept me again.”
Murdoch ran his large hand over Johnny’s head, smoothing down the dark, silky hair. Johnny stirred under his touch.
Raising his head, Johnny blinked a few times, trying to wake.
“It’s time to get up, son.”
Johnny nodded and rolled onto his side. Looking up, he saw Maria and came fully awake.
“Juanito, it is time for dinner. Are you hungry?”
Johnny sat up and nodded with a smile. “Si.” He looked at Murdoch and frowned.
“What’s wrong, son?”
“You cannot go downstairs to eat. I will stay with you.”
“Who says I can’t go downstairs?” Murdoch replied. Pushing up from the bed, he swung his legs to the side and sat up straight.
“Patron, no. I will get Doctor Sam.”
“Nonsense, Maria. Just hand me my boots. I’m going downstairs to eat dinner with my son.”
Maria put her hands on her hips and shook her head. Giving in, she retrieved Murdoch’s boots and handed them to him.
“Go ahead. I’ll be down in a few minutes. Take John with you.”
“Come, Juanito. Your stubborn Papa will not listen to me. Maybe he will listen to el medico.”
Johnny hopped off the bed and was at the door before turning around. “Do you need my help, Papa?”
Murdoch smiled. “No, hijo. I’ll manage.”
Once the door closed, Murdoch stood. A wave of dizziness hit him hard enough to send him back to the edge of the bed. He sat for a few minutes before trying again.
This time, he took a deep breath and grabbed the bedpost to steady himself. Once the dizziness cleared, he went to the washstand and splashed water on his face. Looking in the mirror, Murdoch could see a bruise forming on the side of his head. It wasn’t bad yet, but he knew it would be a vivid purple by morning.
Murdoch was at the bottom of the backstairs leading to the kitchen when he came face to face with Sam Jenkins.
“I was just coming up to check on you.”
“I feel fine, Sam.”
“You’re sure? Headache? Dizziness?”
“I had a headache and was dizzy earlier, but I’m alright now. Actually, Sam, I feel like I’m walking on air. You heard him, didn’t you? You heard Johnny call me Papa?”
Sam smiled. “Yes, I heard. Are you sure you don’t have any nausea?”
“No. No nausea. Right now, I’m hungry.”
Entering the Dining Room, Murdoch took his seat at the head of the table. To his right sat Paul, with Teresa next to him, sitting on a stack of books so she could reach the table. The chairs on the other side of the table were empty except for one.
Since coming to Lancer, Johnny had taken a seat as far from his father as he could get. Now, on Murdoch’s immediate left sat Johnny, elbows on the table and legs swinging. Without a word, Sam sat at Johnny’s right, and then Cipriano. Once the meal was served, Maria took her place next to her husband.
For the first time since Johnny’s return, Murdoch felt he had his family back. At that moment, he had almost everything he wanted in life. The only thing missing was his oldest, and God willing, Scott would be with him soon.
Mission San Pedro y San Pablo del Tubutama
Tubutama, Sonora, Mexico
Four weeks later
Father Antonio read from his Bible as the children played in the mission’s garden. He didn’t look up until one of the smaller children tugged on the arm of his robe.
“Padre,” the small boy pointed towards the arch leading to the rear of the mission. “There is someone there who wants to speak with you.”
Father Antonio looked to where the boy pointed. His eyes fell on a petite woman with flowing dark hair and the face of an angel. He knew instantly who it was.
Standing, Father Antonio approached the woman. “Señora, may I help you?”
“Si, Padre, I am looking for someone, a man. He would have come here several months ago to pick up my son. They were to meet in Hermosillo but did not come.”
“What is the name of the man you seek, Señora?”
“Rivas, Jose Rivas.”
“I see. Señora I am sorry to tell you but Señor Rivas is muerto.”
“Dead!? How can that be? How? When?” Before Father Antonio could voice his answer, Maria turned on him, eyes blazing. “Where is my son?”
Father Antonio took a deep breath and let it out before reluctantly telling the woman what she wanted to know. As he spoke, the woman’s eyes darkened with anger. “His padre, you say?”
“Si, Señora, Señor Lancer.”
“And he has taken the chico to California—to his ranch?”
“Si.”
Without another word, Maria spun around and stalked away.
Father Antonio knew what he had to do. Señor Crawford had left an address to contact him if anyone asked about Juanito. Hurrying back to his office, he wrote out a message. He’d send a telegram to Val Crawford and pray he would know what to do about Maria Lancer.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
