A REFLECTION OF CHARACTER CHAPTER 23

  

 

 

Hell, he was gonna be in more than hot water if he didn’t get that medicine to Scott. He had to think straight and get Maryanne Franklin outta his head. And fast. But, oh boy, that wasn’t easy when the smell of her perfume still hung in the air and every time the breeze scattered the leaves in the alley, he heard the rustle of her skirts and … and what in blazes was he meant to tell Murdoch about Jeb Franklin?

 

Damnit. Life was a whole lot simpler when he was just plain old, Johnny Madrid.

 

He started walking towards the main street. Would the mercantile still be open? Murdoch would be—.

 

That was not a rustle of petticoats behind him.

 

He spun around, reaching for his gun. He damn-well knew he’d been fast on the draw. It was smooth. Slick. Perfect. Left hand on the hammer ….

 

Two faces were staring back at him. It was near impossible to work out which was wider; their eyes or their mouths. One of Teresa’s fancy blue dinner plates would’ve filled their pieholes.

 

They both had their hands up but he was pretty sure he’d caught the older one throwing away a quirley. Kids and alleys. Yep, he knew all about that.

 

He stood watching them for a moment or two—no harm in letting them sweat a little more—before spinning his gun then dropping it in his holster. Their eyes were following his every move. “Aw, you can drop your hands. I’m not usually in the business of shooting kids.” He nudged his hat back further to get a better look at them. “Sneaking up on a man in an alley ain’t too smart, you know.”

 

The smaller boy’s hands slammed down by his sides, like he didn’t wanna get into any more trouble, but the older one took his time. He was trying real hard to show he wasn’t scared. Only Johnny would’ve bet the pair of’em almost wet their pants when he turned on them with his gun drawn.

 

Town kids, he figured, both wearing dungarees and checked shirts and battered hats. Town kids that sure looked familiar.

 

The bigger boy tugged his hat on tighter with both hands, eyeing Johnny like a boxer stepping into the ring, ready to put up his dukes. “We weren’t sneaking up. We’ve got every right to be in this alley. You Lancers don’t own it.”

 

Ooh, what a spitfire. Still, he had to admire his double backbone. Johnny almost started grinning. “That’s right. We don’t.” The kid could’ve been around fourteen but he was lanky. The other one a little younger, maybe? “Shouldn’t you both be heading home for supper?”

 

“No.” The kid curled his lip like Johnny was pretty dumb. “Not this time a’day.”

 

“You both live in town?”

 

“Where we live ain’t none of your business.”

 

Boy, the kid sure had a mouth on him. “Okay, hardcase. I guess you’re right about that, too.”

 

“You better believe it, mister.”

 

Johnny’s hand was beginning to itch, but he rubbed his cheek instead and kept his voice real easy-like. “You know, they can hang a man for attempted murder; if some ornery judge has a mind to.”

 

“So. What’s that got to do with Frankie and me?”

 

This time Johnny was pretty sure the puzzled look was no act.

 

“So,” he shrugged, careful to make sure it sound like he was just passing the time of day, “I’m wondering where’d you get the rope?”

 

Johnny cocked his head and put on his amiable face; the one he used when Teresa made him go visiting. Funny thing was, the hardcase wasn’t looking so cocksure anymore. His eyes were glued on Johnny’s like the wind had changed and he’d been stuck like that. He didn’t even look away when he must’ve sensed Frankie turning towards him. Just tried to elbow Frankie in the ribs without being seen.

 

Johnny picked up an old piece of rope from the pile of boxes, stretching it taut between his hands and letting the rest trail to the ground. “You know, if you string this across a path, most times a rider never sees it coming. Yep, I’ve seen a whole company brought down by that trick.”

 

Well, it was four rurales and Johnny was the one holding the rope but the result was the same.

 

“That sure musta been a sight, mustn’t it, Frankie.” The kid tried to laugh, giving Frankie a nudge, like it was the best joke he’d heard. Sure, he was putting on a good front; except he’d only fool a shave tail, if he was lucky.

 

Johnny gave the rope another tug. “Did you know, you can kill a man that way? He gets knocked off his horse, lands on his head, and before you know it,” he thumped his fist into his hand, “he’s a goner. Nothin’ but buzzard bait.”

 

“Thad, you said—.”

 

“Shut your big bazoo, Frankie.” This time Frankie got an elbow in his side that sent him backwards a couple of steps but when ‘Thad’ turned back to Johnny, his face wore all the innocence of a newborn babe.  “We don’t know what the heck you’re talking about, sir.”

 

The attempt to sound polite was a nice touch. He might’ve even tried that himself a time or two when he was a kid on the run.

 

“Oh, I think you do. And we’ve got the law in this town, now. I think our sheriff is gonna be mighty interested to hear that you two boys tried to kill Scott with a rope strung across the street, right here in town.”

 

Little Frankie’s eyes had gone all watery. “We weren’t tryin’ to kill him, Mister Johnny. It was just a bit of fun. Honest.”

 

“Shut the hell up, Frankie.”

 

“All killers say they didn’t mean it—once they get caught. Me, I don’t take it too kindly when someone almost kills my brother.” Johnny drew his gun, then spun it a few times on his finger. He had their attention now, all right. The younger one’s eyes were starting to leak. “I dunno. Maybe I don’t wanna go to the law?” He eyed the two of them like they were turkeys, ready to be carved. “Down on the border, I pretty much learned to deal with trouble myself.”

 

He tossed the rope away and walked closer, until they were backed up against the boxes. “Now, are you gonna tell me why you did it?”

 

“Run, Frankie!”

 

Both kids set off at the same time, ducking under Johnny’s arms. Dios, they were fast. If they got out of the alley, he’d never find them again ….

 

He lunged forward, reaching out—and came away with nothing but air.

 

Blazes. He swiped again. This time he had hold of a shirt.

 

It was Frankie.

 

But Thad was nearly half-way up the alley, towards the street. Once he got out there, Johnny’d have no hope in catching him. He could disappear into any number of stores and duck out the back way. Frankie was squirming like a worm on a hook at the end of his arm. “Kid. Stand still.” He didn’t have time to see if yelling at the boy would make him obey.

 

It was like Thad knew everything Johnny was thinking. He’d slowed and turned to see what Johnny was doing  and once he saw Johnny still more than half way down the alley he yelled out, “I’ll be seeing, yah,” then started whistling as he turned around and started running again.

 

He must’ve got a big shock when he pitched head first into the ground. ‘Course that wasn’t exactly what Johnny was aiming for but the rope slipped right over Thad’s head to his knees so he spilled to the ground like an overturned sack of oats. He was sitting up trying to get himself free when Johnny reached him, dragging Frankie along with him.

 

Johnny grinned down at him. “I forgot to tell you. That was an old lasso I was holding. Now, if you play nice, I’ll untie you. Uh, uh.” Thad was trying to kick out like a mule. “I said play nice.”

 

He had to threaten Frankie again to stand still so that he could haul Thad up by the scruff of his neck but he finally had hold of both boys and tossed the lasso aside.

 

“Lucky for the two of you, I’m feeling real kind. If you tell me why you strung that rope across the road last week, I just might let you go.”

 

Thad was trying to stomp on his boots, like the wildcat he was, so Johnny shook him and held him further away.

 

“Don’t you listen to him, Frankie. He’s just trying to scare us.” But Thad had lost his whistle. He was squeaking now.

 

“Well, it’s workin’, Thad. My ma’ll whomp me good if she finds out what happened.”

 

Johnny gave Frankie another shake. “If you don’t want a whomping, Frankie, you’d better tell me why you did it.”

 

“Frankie!”

 

Thad held some kinda hold over the kid because Frankie clamped his lips shut again.  

 

“Okay, if that’s how it is.” Johnny started dragging the two of them back to the boardwalk. “I guess Sheriff Gabe is gonna—.”

 

“It was his pa’s idea. He said it would be fun.” Frankie was just about wailing, now. “He gave us a whole dollar each.”

 

Johnny stopped in his tracks, with his back to the street. Dios. He’d been suspicious but hearing the words still caught him by surprise. He let go of Frankie and grabbed hold of Thad’s arms, squeezing hard enough to show he meant business. “No more bull, kid. Who’s your pa?” But Thad pressed his lips together and wouldn’t look Johnny in the eye. “Who is he?”

 

“That would be me, Lancer. Now let my Thad, go. Isn’t it enough you bewitched one of my boys, already?”

 

Oh boy, he shoulda known. He let go of Thad, then took his time turning around.

 

Now that they were out of the alley, the late afternoon sun was in his eyes, but he’d know that voice anywhere. “Daniel Drew. I shoulda known a skunk like you’d pull a low-down trick like that.”

 

Thad ran across and stood beside his father, gloating back at Johnny like he’d just outbid him for a prize bull.

 

“What trick? I don’t know what you’re talking about?” Drew was looking awful smug, with that fake smile plastered on his shiny face. What does he do, scrub his guilt away with sandpaper every night before bed?

 

“That stinky stuff you’re wearing won’t coverup your lies, Drew. My brother could’ve busted his neck when these kids strung that rope across the street.”

 

“But he didn’t. And there isn’t a lawman in the whole state who’d send a couple of kids up before a judge for nothing more than a schoolboy prank.”

 

“Oh boy, you’ve got it all worked out, haven’t you.”

 

The smile didn’t slip. He just stood there polishing his fingernails on his lapel like he was a man who could make money by sniffing the air. “You’re new to these parts, Johnny, so I’ll help you by explaining a fact; just because you helped build a jail, doesn’t mean you Lancers have this town in your pocket.”

 

“That’s right. And it means you don’t either.”

 

“He just about had Maryanne Franklin in his pocket, Pa. We caught’em both smooching in the alley and going at it like nobody’s business. It was shameful, Pa. You shoulda seen’em.” Thad’s voice was shrill enough for the whole damn town to hear and that smug look on his face was a dead giveaway him and Daniel Drew were kin.

 

Frankie screwed up his face. “Yeah, it was real yuck, Uncle Dan’l.”

 

Hell, he hadn’t seen anyone else in the alley. They must’ve been watching around the corner, down the other end. Johnny folded his arms and stood there like he didn’t give a damn what Thad was saying but that sure wasn’t what he was thinking inside.

 

 

“And she was kissing him right back and he had his hands all over her and was groaning and carrying on like—.”

 

Oh boy, he’d love to get his hands on Thad and wallop him one. “He’s lying.”

 

“You calling my boy a liar.”

 

“That’s right. He’s lying.” Thad started squawking but Johnny cut in over the top of him. “He’s lying because I didn’t groan. He’s making that up. Aren’t you, kid.” Then he started smiling. Couldn’t help himself. “But we sure did everything else.” And he said it like he knew it had been a long time since Drew held a woman, unless he paid some calico queen for the pleasure.

 

“Pa, I—.”

 

“That’s enough, Thadeus.” Drew wasn’t smiling now. “I want the two of you to run home.”

 

“Is there gonna be a fight? I wanna watch you lick’im, Pa, just like you said you would.”

 

“I said that’s enough. Now get going home, like I said.”

 

Thad looked ready to mutiny but he ran off, kicking Johnny in the shins as we went, before running full pelt up the street. Johnny’s eyes just about watered  but he managed to hold it together and not reach out to grab at Thad and make him sorry he’d ever met Johnny. Yep, if he ever got his mitts on this kid again, he was gonna shake him until his teeth rattled in his head and rolled on the ground. Aaron must take after his ma, because as brothers go, him and Thadeus couldn’t be more different.

 

At least one bright spark in all this was Daniel Drew thinking he could take Johnny in a fistfight. That almost made him laugh out loud. “Well, I’m ready for that fight, any time you are, Drew.”

 

Drew stepped up onto the boardwalk, so Johnny followed him. It figured that he’d want to be out in the open along the main street. No doubt he thought being close to his office would keep him safe from a brawl.

 

“I’m surprised you’d show your face on the street after what you and  your brother did last night. And now you can add more shameful behaviour to the list. Wait until Jeb Franklin hears about your behaviour with his daughter.”

 

Ooh, he probably should’ve kept his mouth shut and not let Thad goad him into admitting about the kiss but the kid was a damned liar and made it sound a whole lot more than it was. “And just what was it we did last night?”

 

“Trespassing, unlawful entry, destruction of property. Is that the sort of thing you’re aiming to teach Aaron?”

 

“Nope. But at least he’s not learning how to trick good folk outta their land at a fraction of the price it’s worth.”

 

Drew didn’t have much of a chin but he tried to stick it out, anyway. “Nothing I’ve done was illegal in my work as land agent.”

 

“Don’t give me that bull. You’re on a first-name basis with the bottom of the deck. It was your own greed that conned you out of your money with Buttermere, so don’t go blaming Murdoch.”

 

He eyed Johnny’s gun. “You think you’re tough with that thing strapped to your leg.”

 

“I’m happy to drop my rig and take you on, any day.”

 

“Well, we’ll see about that. I’ll be talking to judge Homer about getting my boy back.”

 

Those fighting words made him snigger. “You do that, Uncle Dan’l.”

 

Aw hell, across the street he just spied Henry starting to take in the stock he had out on the boardwalk. Any minute he’d be closing up shop. Could he call out to him?

 

 

Only Drew was in Johnny’s face now. “I want my boy, back. You Lancers can’t have him. I’ll do whatever it takes. You hear. You ruined my business. I won’t let you take my son.” And for some reason he thought it would make a whole lotta sense to jab Johnny’s chest as he said those last two words.

 

Ooh, if this had been last year, he would’ve been sending his fist into Daniel Drew’s damn face. But he was Murdoch Lancer’s son and this was the main street in Spanish Wells and already there were a few people watching them as they went by, so all he did was push Drew’s finger away. And, Dios, he’d better wrap up this talk right now if he aimed to make it to the mercantile.

 

Take a breath, Johnny. How would Murdoch handle this?

 

“Look, Aaron is at Lancer under his own free will. He could head home to you any time—if he wanted to.” There, he’d said his piece. He should stop at that. That’s what Murdoch would do. Only …only … dammit … Drew should stop listening to his own malarkey, shouldn’t he? “Only the truth is, Aaron doesn’t want to come home. And that’s what’s eating at you, Drew.”

 

Blazes, Henry was taking the apples inside now. He turned around to head across the street, only half hearing Drew shoot his mouth off.

 

“I’ll break you. I’ll break all you Lancers, starting with Murdoch Lancer first. You think I don’t know your father? He couldn’t keep his own sons on that ranch of his – hell, he couldn’t keep his wives.”

 

Johnny shrugged off the grip Drew had on his arm. Henry always pretended he couldn’t hear if you banged on the door after closing. Where did he put the note Murdoch gave him for the medicine?

 

“… He was the laughing stock of the whole county when your mother up and left. Murdoch Lancer couldn’t even hold onto a Mex. That’s what happens when you bed a—.”

 

Okay, so he didn’t have as much control as he thought he did—but boy, it felt real good smashing his fist into Drew’s jaw and standing over him.

 

Drew scrambled to his feet, eyes blazing like he was about to have one helluva time. Well, that was a better look than that smug face he usually wore.

 

“You wanna take your best swing, Uncle Dan’l? Go on.” And held out his arms to egg Drew on.

 

Drew didn’t need much encouragement. He came charging towards him, head down, and Johnny almost laughed out loud it was so easy to side-step him. He never took a lotta pleasure in licking a—.

 

What the hell? He only caught the shadow behind him at the last minute. Right before a punch took him low in the back. He grabbed onto a post to stop himself then spun back around. Oh boy, he shoulda known Drew’d shin out. Men like him never got their hands—. Someone else grabbed his arm and swung him around and before he knew it a smack to his jaw had him falling backwards, held up only by the hitching rail as it dug into his back.

 

Were there two of them. Three?

 

They came at him again and he swung his leg up, kicking one of’em back before barrelling his head into the other guy but punches were landing on him from behind. Dios. He wasn’t grinning now. He tried to swing around but someone grabbed his bad arm and that just about sent him to his knees. Mierda, where the hell did these guys come from? And where the hell was Drew?

 

He couldn’t see real clear as they dragged him upright. They had his arms pinned now and that’s when he had a chance to look at the face of one of’em while he tensed his gut for what was surely coming. The first punch took him hard and he tried to shake his good arm free and clear his head but all he could see were snatches of a lady and a feather and apples and baskets, and barking dogs and cracks of sun … no, sun through the cracks … and Dios, he’d better get outta this quick or—.

 

Even his own head spun around when the gun went off.

 

“Hold it right there. All of you. Unless you want to  find yourselves in the lock-up for a month.”

 

He just about sagged. It wasn’t often he was happy to see a lawman.

 

Turned out there were three of’em. The two holding his arms let go and turned around to Gabe who must’ve come from across the street. He stepped up on the boardwalk, still with his gun at the ready.

 

“The Lancer … kid … he started it … Sherriff.” At least this feller was breathing hard, like Johnny was.

 

“And it looks like the rest of you continued it. I make that three against one. That’s not a fight. It’s a beating. You do that again, and I’ll have you as guests in that nice new hotel I’m running. Got it?”

 

There were a few mumbles. “Sure thing. We was just havin’ some fun.”

 

Fun my eye! Johnny straightened up and took a good look at them. Oh yeah, he knew these three all right. They’d come calling at Lancer, trying to get Aaron back to his old man.

 

Speaking of which, where the hell was Drew? And that secretary of his, Timothy Brewer, was nowhere to be seen, either.

 

Dammit, he could taste blood on his lips. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. At least only a trickle rubbed off. Good. Maybe Murdoch wouldn’t notice?

 

His new ‘friends’ slouched off while Gabe picked up Johnny’s hat and passed it to him but his face was grim. “When I told you to stay outta trouble, I wasn’t just talking for the fun of it.”

 

“Yeah, I know.” He leaned over the railing and spat a few more drops of blood outta his mouth.

 

“You wanna tell me what started all this?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“I was down near the livery. It looked to me like Daniel Drew was up in your face—and then you slugged him.”

 

Johnny closed his eyes. This day just got better and better.

 

“Johnny?”

 

He blew out a breath then stood up, slapping the dust off his pants with his hat. “Yeah, and I’m a damn fool to let him get under my skin like that. Is that what you wanna hear?”

 

Gabe holstered his gun, looking down the street where the others disappeared. “You know those other fellers?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Let me rephrase that. Have you seen’em before?”

 

Johnny leaned against the post. “Yeah. I guess. I think they work for Drew.”

 

“Why’s he mad at you Lancers?”

 

“For one, we’ve got his son, Aaron, working at Lancer.”

 

“That doesn’t sound like a crime.”

 

“He’s fifteen and doesn’t wanna go home. He and his pa don’t see eye to eye about something.”

 

“I left home about that age myself. But that’s not all, is it?”

 

Johnny sighed. Buttermere was a gift that kept on giving. “We all got conned by a flannel-mouthed peddler who came through town. Buttermere. He pretended to be from the government, looking to buy land.”

 

Gabe was no fool. Understanding lit his eyes straightaway. “Yep, that’ll do it.”

 

“Buttermere and his daughter were staying with us. And that’s how the misunderstanding with Jay McKillen started.” He filled Gabe in on that as well.

 

“You know, it might’ve been handy if you Lancers had told me all this before.”

 

“I know. I don’t think Murdoch talks about it much because he feels guilty over Jay dying like he did. And Daniel Drew sure isn’t blurting it around town that he tried to trick a whole lotta folk out of the top price for their land.”

 

“It sounds to me like Murdoch made some enemies in all these happenings, through no fault of his own. It might be safer for all of you if you lay low at your ranch for a while when you go home tomorrow. Maybe this will all blow over?”

 

Johnny slapped the post, hard enough to make his palm sting. Dios, he’d had enough of all this. “And maybe I just wanna stay in town for a while? I don’t recall there being any law against that, is there?”

 

“Johnny, I like your father. I’ve got a lotta respect for him. But I’ve got a job to do in this town and I aim to do it well. If you keep causing trouble, my hands will be tied if someone presses charges.”

 

“Boy, it would be sure nice if you could press some of those charges on the man who shot me!”

 

“You think I’m not trying? Is that what you think?”

 

It was the first glimpse of frustration he’d heard in Gabe’s voice.

 

“I dunno.” He sounded like some sulky kid but he didn’t care right now. It felt like he’d been talking about all this for days and no-one was listening to him. Not Scott. Not Murdoch. Not anyone.

 

“Johnny, I’m new in this town. You think folk are going to open up to me first off? It takes a long time for a lawman to earn people’s trust. Especially in a town like this where I’m the first lawman some folk have ever talked to.”

 

Dios, he sounded so reasonable it was like talking to Scott.

 

“Yeah, well, you’ve got a good point when you put it like that.” Not that he was happy about it. He shrugged. “I’m sorry. I guess I never saw it that way.”

 

“Thanks.” Gabe almost smiled. “And let me tell you one thing, I’m just as keen to find whoever put that bullet in your arm and threw that lantern through the window at McKillen’s ranch, as you are. I don’t take kindly to bushwhackers or murderers. Never have. I just can’t go around town making a big show about it, or folk are gonna clam up.”

 

“Okay, Sheriff. You’ve made your point.” Hell, it felt like a had a knot the size of an apple at the back of his neck.  He slammed his hat back on his head and looked around.

 

The street was almost empty now. Anyone enjoying the show when Drew’s men lit into him, were long gone.

 

And Dios, so was Henry.

 

The blinds were down. The door was shut.

 

The mercantile was closed.

 

 

To be continued …