Written by Desert Sun - First Published, January 2003
Send Feedback to Desert Sun Printable Pages: 10 Rating: G
IMPORTANT NOTICE! This story is a sequal to Eve of a New Year. If you haven't read that story yet, click here."
(Please note: the characters of the Lancer television series do not belong to me and were used without permission. This was written for fun, not profit.)
Major Characters: Johnny Lancer, Scott Lancer, and Murdoch Lancer
Johnny Lancer stirred idly at the scrambled eggs on his plate. The fingers of his left hand were curled and pressed against his cheek while his chin rested on the heel of his hand--elbow next to his plate on the kitchen table. Across from him, his brother sat watching him.
"Okay, Brother. Out with it."
With brow puckering slightly, Johnny glanced up at Scott. "Out with what?"
"Whatever it is that's bothering you . . . and don't say it's nothing. You've been pushing those eggs around for the last five minutes and haven't taken a single bite."
Johnny scratched behind his ear and chewed at his lip then let out a soft sigh as his left hand fell to the table. "What do yuh think made him do it?"
"Who do what?" asked Scott, looking bewildered.
"Murdoch. Why do you think he gave us those papers last night? The one's saying we get a vote in what goes on around here."
"Maybe he thinks we're capable of handling the responsibility," Scott answered with a shrug.
Johnny scrutinized his brother for a moment before speaking. "You sure you didn't apply a little bit of that art of persuasion you was talkin' about yesterday? I can't figure the old man coming up with that idea on his own."
"I did no such thing," Scott replied, his voice ringing with indignation. "You saw the date on those documents. They were written nearly three weeks ago. You and I never even discussed the issue until yesterday just before he walked in on us."
"That don't mean yuh didn't do some hintin'."
Scott set his fork on the edge of his plate and leaned forward. "Honestly, Johnny, I hadn't even thought of approaching him with a proposition like that until you mentioned it yesterday morning. In case you have forgotten, I told you it was a risky idea. I really didn't think he would agree to let us have a voice in the decision making this soon." Sitting back in his chair, he added, "After we had been here a year or two, perhaps, but not yet."
"Then you think he thought it up all on his own," stated the younger man. He took a bite of his eggs and chewed slowly as he contemplated this possibility.
"It looks that way to me, unless . . .." Scott's voice faded away and a frown clouded his face.
"Unless what?"
"No. That just isn't possible," Scott replied with a shake of his head.
Johnny propped his elbows on the table, slumped forward to rest his chin in his hands, and gazed intently at his brother. "What ain't possible?"
"Nothing," said Scott with a wave of his hand. "Just forget it."
"No. You're thinking somethin', and I wanna know what it is."
"I'm telling you, it was nothing," insisted Scott.
"No it wasn't, or you wouldn't a said somethin' in the first place. Now tell me what you was thinkin'," Johnny demanded in a more persistent tone.
"All right!" Scott replied in exasperation then went on in a more normal tone of voice. "It just occurred to me that Murdoch might have overheard more of our conversation yesterday than we thought."
"But the papers were dated weeks ago."
"I know. That's why I said it wasn't possible."
The furrows in Johnny's eyebrows deepened. He slid his elbow off the table, leaned back, and drummed his fingers against the bottom of the seat of his chair. "Do yuh suppose he could've made them papers out while we was gone over to Mister Johnson's and then put a different date on 'em because he didn't want us to know about it?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Johnny," declared Scott, air huffing through his nose. "Why would he do a thing like that?"
Johnny's hands ceased their nervous motion and his drawling voice softened. "To throw us off the trail. Make us think it was his own idea."
Scott chuckled softly, the corners of his mouth stretching wider as they curled upward. "Little Brother, has anyone ever told you that you have a suspicious mind?"
"Hey, you thought of it first," Johnny grouched before speaking with more intensity. "And don't say yuh didn't. Guess that makes two of us with suspicious minds."
Scott chuckled again. "I suppose you have a point there." Sobering, he continued. "Honestly, Johnny, I can't see Murdoch giving us a vote just because he heard us talking about it. He would have wanted to give an important decision like that considerable more thought first. I'll wager that he sent us over to Ike Johnson's as a test. If we had failed to get an acceptable price for those heifers, more than likely, Murdoch would not have given us those voting rights."
"Yeah, you're prob'ly right," Johnny said softly. After a moment of silence, his eyes brightened and he grinned. "One thing's for sure, though . . .."
"And what would that be?" Scott asked when his brother stopped mid-sentence.
"We never asked him to give us the vote, so he can't accuse us of trickin' him into doin' it."
"You've got that right." Scott smiled in return then sobered. "Just the same, we had better take it slow in making changes around here."
"Yuh mean we can't buy that saloon," Johnny smirked.
"Not for a little while, anyway," Scott laughed.
"We sure did have him goin' there for a minute, didn't we, Boston. Did you see the way his face got red? I bet if he hadn't caught on when he did, he'd a jerked them votin' papers right out of our hands."
"I do believe you're right, Brother."
Mischief danced in Johnny's eyes. "And whewie, was Teresa ever mad at us. I half expected we'd be fixin' our own breakfast this morning, didn't you?"
"Yes, I did. Maybe, we'd better confine our investments to ranching and leave the gambling halls to people with less respectable names."
Johnny laughed. When his brother joined in, he was sure that Scott was also remembering the expression on Teresa's face the night before.
When their laughter subsided, the brothers talked companionable while they finished their breakfast. Eventually, the conversation shifted to the bulls that their father wanted to have shipped in from the east.
"Hey, Scott. You don't suppose Murdoch planned all along for us to invest in them bulls, do you?" Johnny washed down a bite of bacon with a swallow of milk.
"What makes you think that?"
"Well," Johnny drawled out slowly. "He's hardly talked about anything else for the last week."
"Now that you mention it, it does make a person wonder." Scott's face turned thoughtful. "Thinking back on it, he never said they were a risk until we offered to pay for some of them out of our profits from the ranch."
"So he could've told us that so we wouldn't think he was too eager to take our money, right?"
"Certainly is a possibility." Scott drank the last of his coffee, placed the empty cup on his dirty plate, and shoved them to one side. "Of course, he'd never admit to trying to influence our thinking in any way."
Johnny's eyes twinkled and he chuckled. "Maybe, that was another test like the heifer sale."
"Brother, you don't trust anyone's motivations, do you?" Despite the hint of criticism in Scott's tone, a slight smile curved the corners of his mouth.
"I just think that old man is a lot better poker player than we give him credit for, is all."
"Oh, is it?" Scott smirked, tipping his chair back on two legs. "It sure sounded to me like you were saying he was being devious."
"Who was being devious?"
Startled by the booming voice, Scott jerked forward--chair legs dropping to the floor with a thump. At the same time, Johnny choked on his last bite of food.
"Are you okay?" Murdoch asked his younger son when Johnny finally stopped coughing.
"Um, hum," Johnny mumbled still trying to catch his breath.
Murdoch moved to the stove and poured a cup of coffee. After taking a sip, he came around to lean against the other side of the island while he regarded his older son. "Who is this devious poker player? Some new gambler you boys ran into in town?"
"Uh . . . yes," Scott replied, avoiding his father's eyes.