Be Careful What You Wish For by RonD

Word Count 5,903

Episode Tag WHN: Little Darling Of The Sierras

Written for the Lancer Writer ‘55^th Anniversary Episode Tag Celebration’

Scott Lancer cranked up the player piano for their guest, Penny Rose Evans, so she could begin the performance she’d been on and on about since breakfast.  She’d hardly contained herself through dinner.  She began to sing “Oh, dem Golden Slippers” and Scott blanched.  He didn’t know quite what he was expecting…maybe that the little girl would be on key?  He looked over to her aunt, Hester MacLaughlin, and saw the pinched look of someone who was trying very hard to look pleased and encouraging.  Then he glanced at Murdoch.  The man had a wide, sincere grin on his face, thoroughly enjoying Miss Evans’ performance.  Scott had seen many child performers in Boston.  Some had been truly talented.  Penny Rose would not be ranked among them.  And to think she was going to do it all over again when Johnny returned.  Scott hoped his brother would be working very late.

Suddenly paper started flying out of the player piano roll.  Scott picked one up.  It looked like a stock option.  More and more stocks and bonds fell out of the roll.  Now Murdoch and Hester were grabbing them up as well.

“You’re supposed to be watching me!” Penny Rose complained, hands on hips, but no one was paying any attention to her.

“One hundred shares in Kettering Industries,” Scott read.

“A hundred shares in Corey Lentz,” Murdoch echoed. 

Hester joined in by reading some of those she had taken. “Breckenridge Utilities, a hundred shares!”

“I knew he didn’t forget!” Penny Rose squealed.

“I should have believed you all this time,” Hester acknowledged, giving the girl a hug.  “I’m sorry I didn’t.”

“Now we can go to Vienna,” Penny Rose suggested.

“And you could study music,” Hester added.

“And you could meet handsome princes,” Penny Rose said, which made Hester blush.  “And you’d be happy and love me like a mommy and not just because you have to.”

Hester gave her niece a kiss and a hug.

“Well, a fairy tale ending for a fairy tale princess, complete with fortune,” Scott mused.

“Yeah, but I have a feeling they discovered something much more valuable,” Murdoch said, watching the aunt and niece embrace.

Scott pulled out the music roll to the very end, but there were no more stocks or bonds in it. He suggested they unfurl the other rolls, but Penny Rose stomped her foot and told them she wanted to finish her performance.  Scott wanted to protest, but Murdoch and Hester gave into the child, and Scott suffered from a renewed performance of “Golden Slippers” as well as an overly dramatic recitation of “The Wreck of the Hesperus,” then one of Shakespeare’s lesser-known sonnets, which was missing at least a couplet if Scott counted the lines correctly, and a slow, drawn-out version of “Sweet Betsy from Pike.”  Murdoch clapped enthusiastically after each, and Scott wondered whether his father was tone deaf.  Penny Rose’s singing was just enough under pitch to make Scott’s skin crawl.

Afterwards, the four of them took the remaining player piano rolls and unrolled them all, but, sadly, none of the others had stocks or bonds in them.  They had just finished rerolling the rolls when Johnny came sauntering in. Penny Rose jumped up and led him to the sofa, proclaiming, “I’m going to sing just for you!”

Scott took that as his cue to leave, but Penny Rose caught sight of him.  “You’re going to stay, aren’t you, Scott?” she implored.

“Of course, he is!” Murdoch declared, giving Scott a look that said, “stay or you’ll be cleaning out the outhouse tomorrow.”  Scott plastered a smile on his face and stayed.

---

Johnny strolled into Scott’s room with a half-eaten piece of pie in his hand and flopped on the bed. “I thought we were brothers,” he muttered around the apples and flaky crust.

“We are,” Scott said as he sat in his desk chair and removed his boots to get ready for bed.

“You coulda warned me.”

“And spoil your surprise?  I’d never be that cruel.”

Johnny almost choked.  “Hey, I’m eating here!  Don’t make me laugh.”

Scott walked around the bed to where Johnny was sitting and knocked his brother’s boots off his quilt.  At least he wasn’t wearing his spurs this time.  “You were lucky; I had to sit through it twice.”

“Serves you right!” Johnny said as he popped the last of the pie into his mouth. “How long’re they gonna stay anyway?” 

At least that’s what Scott thought he said.  It was hard to tell with so much food in his mouth. 

Scott wondered if his grandfather would have boxed Johnny’s ears for talking with his mouth full.  Probably not, given that Johnny wasn’t a kid anymore and was a gunhawk to boot.  But he wouldn’t have been invited back for any more meals at the Garrett house.  “Who knows?  You notice how Murdoch is eating up her calling him ‘Uncle Murdoch’?”

“Yep.  He’d spoil her rotten if she wasn’t already so spoiled rotten.”  Johnny licked the last remnants of the pie off his fingers.

“You’d be spoiled, too, if you had a father who called you ‘the little darling of the Sierras’ for most of your life.”

“Can’t imagine Murdoch calling me that.”

Scott wasn’t so sure.  Maria had told him of Johnny’s early years here.  She’d boasted that Johnny was simply the most adorable baby and that Murdoch had doted on his brother.

“Wonder when all that ‘darling’ stuff started,” Johnny mused.

“When she was five.”  At Johnny’s raised eyebrows, Scott added, “I asked her.  That little act, especially reciting all of ‘The Wreck of the Hesperus,’ that would have been pretty impressive for a five-year-old.  She was probably quite cute then, too.”

“Not so impressive now,” Johnny muttered, “or so cute.”

They both sat and thought about that for a piece and then Scott said, “I think I’ll work extra late tomorrow.”

“Not a bad idea, Boston.”

Scott pushed the rest of his brother off the bed.  “So get out of here and let me get some sleep.”

---

Murdoch was already at the table when Scott entered the kitchen for breakfast.  Johnny hadn’t made his usual visit to his room beforehand.  He wasn’t sitting at the table either.

“Morning,” he greeted his father.  “Do I need to wake Johnny?”

“He’s already gone,” Teresa announced as she put down a plate of ham.

“Up before dawn?” Scott was surprised.

“His note said he wanted to get an early start making repairs to the eastern line shack,” Murdoch explained.

The traitor! Scott thought, angry that he hadn’t thought of it first.  The eastern line shack was the one farthest from the house, and Johnny would be gone for days.  But maybe he could still salvage the situation.  “That’s a two-man job…” Scott began.

Murdoch held up his hand.  “…Which is why he took Enrico with him.”

Scott frowned, trying to think of a task that would be equally time-consuming.  “The one down south could also use some work.”

Murdoch set his coffee cup down with a distinct clatter.  He was onto Scott’s scheme.  “Scott, we have guests.”

Luckily, the guests slept in late, so they could talk freely.  “There’s still work that needs to be done,” Scott persisted.

“I was hoping you could show them the ranch today,” Murdoch said.

There was nothing Scott wanted to do less.  “Surely, you or Teresa could do a better job than me.  I was originally planning to round up strays in the south pastures with the rest of the men.”

“I’d be glad to show them around.  I’d definitely like to get to know Miss MacLaughlin better,” Teresa eagerly offered, and Scott could have hugged the girl.

Murdoch thought about it.  He often forgot she didn’t have her mother around and probably missed that.  Maria could only do so much as a substitute.  It would be good for the girl to interact with Hester.  “All right.”  But he glared at Scott.  “Be sure you’re here for dinner.”

Scott nodded and tucked into his ham and eggs.  It was half a loaf but better than nothing.

And so it was for the following days that every night after dinner, Penny Rose would give a performance, to Scott’s dismay.  To add to his misery, it was always the same performance.  Even Hester’s enthusiasm was waning, although Murdoch still seemed enthralled each evening.   Scott didn’t know how the man managed to pull that off.  After dinner on the fifth night, Scott snagged Murdoch’s copy of The Complete Works of Shakespeare and tried to show Penny Rose the couplets she was missing from sonnet twenty-seven.

“I say it as Daddy taught me,” Penny Rose sniffed.

“But here, you can plainly see…” Scott stated.

“She doesn’t know how to read,” Hester interrupted. 

“But it’s just the last two couplets,” Scott persisted.  “It shouldn’t be too hard to memorize.”

Murdoch sighed.  His perfectionist son often demanded perfection from those around him.  Sometimes it just wasn’t necessary.  “She’s only nine, Scott.”

“I’ll be putting her in school as soon as we get back to Merced,” Hester promised.

Scott looked at the three disapproving faces staring at him and decided to let the matter drop, still wondering why no one was interested in the girl reciting the sonnet correctly.

After the ninth night’s performance, Scott wondered aloud whether the two songs were the only ones Penny Rose knew.

“Oh, no,” the girl assured him.  “Those were just Daddy’s favorites.  I know others,” and she launched into a warbly rendition of “Goober Peas.”

Scott sat there frozen in place for the first verse and then abruptly left the house.  A little while later Murdoch found him in the barn intensely combing through his horse’s mane.  Whiskey, that’s what Scott had named the gelding, a well-built chestnut with a hint of red in the brown that had reminded his son of the color of the liquor.  Murdoch stood on the other side of the animal, facing his son’s bowed head.  He cleared his throat nervously.  How to start this undoubtably uncomfortable discussion?  “It’s not like you to be so rude.”

“Sorry,” Scott muttered without looking at his father.

“You hurt Penny Rose’s feelings.”

Scott kept his face averted.  “Sorry about that, too.”

Murdoch only got out a soft “why” before Scott continued: “I wasn’t going to just sit there through that song.”

“Something wrong with it?”  Murdoch was confused.

Scott stopped combing furiously through Whiskey’s mane.  He rested his arm over the horse’s withers.  “It’s just that…it was one of the songs they sang all the time when they got drunk…the guards…at Libby.”  Scott’s voice cracked on the last word.

“My God, son.  I’m sorry,” Murdoch said softly.

They stood there in silence for long moments before Scott shook himself out of the dark memory.  “Of course, I’ll apologize.”

“Hester took Penny Rose off to bed.”

“Tomorrow then,” Scott said in a voice that sounded like he dreaded the coming of the new day.

Murdoch placed his hand on Scott’s outstretched forearm.  “No need.  I’ll do it.”

Scott nodded his thanks.  “How long will they be staying?”

There was an unspoken plea in that question.  “They should be leaving soon.  How about we escort them home?”

Scott knew what his father was trying to do.  The two-day trip up to Merced would allow them to spend some time alone together on the way home.  He appreciated the gesture, but the last thing he wanted to do was bear the little girl’s whining up to Merced.  And that tune—Golden Slippers—had wormed its way into his brain and taken up residence, resisting all efforts to dislodge it.  If he heard it one more time…  He wavered.  He’d been brought up to accede to a request, if possible, especially one made by a family member or friend.  But he didn’t want to go; he really didn’t want to go.

Murdoch saw the battle being waged inside his elder son’s head and immediately regretted making his suggestion.  He was about to rescind it when he heard Scott’s quiet “no.”  He wanted to crow for joy that Scott was finally putting his own desires ahead of trying to please others.  Any deviation from the boy’s strict Boston upbringing felt like a victory over Harlan Garrett.  Murdoch settled for a smile and a pat on Scott’s arm.  “That’s fine, son.  It was just a thought.  I’ll take Johnny instead.  It’s about time he paid his dues around here where Penny Rose is concerned.”

Scott smiled a bit and went back to his combing, not so furiously now.  “If he ever decides to come back.”  A pause.  “Thank you, sir, for understanding.”  So much emotion packed into those words.

Murdoch made his way back to the great room.  A few minutes later, Hester appeared.  “Did you find Scott?” she asked.

“Yes.  He’s sorry if he offended you or Penny Rose.”  That was all the apology he was going to make for his son.  She didn’t need to know the particulars.

“I suppose we should be leaving, now that our business here is done.”

Murdoch heard the hesitancy in her voice, her unspoken desire for him to insist that they stay longer.  But it was time to get Lancer back into its usual routine and get Johnny home.  “I think that’s best.”  There was a pause.  “Although you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”  It was a tepid invitation at best.  They both realized it was only extended out of etiquette.

Hester could manage only a thin smile.  “You’ve been a more than generous host, Murdoch, but it’s time Penny Rose and I started our life together.”  She wasn’t eager to leave this beautiful place and go back to her four rooms above the barber shop, especially when her brother’s “fortune” hadn’t been as much as she’d expected.  

When Murdoch had taken her to the bank the day following their discovery of the stocks, the banker said he’d have to find out about their current market worth.  He would wire a friend in New York.  Just yesterday they had found out that all those pieces of paper were worth two hundred fifty-five dollars and twenty-three cents collectively.  She wondered whether those men who wanted Penny Rose’s fortune would have so relentlessly dogged them for such a sum.  Clearly, there’d be no trip to Vienna.  The banker explained that Corey Lentz’ business had filed for bankruptcy six months prior and that there were several other companies whose stocks were valued far less than Godfrey had paid for them.  Apparently, her brother was not a savvy investor.  Still, it was better than nothing and more money than she ever had all at one time.  As Penny Rose’s legal guardian, she was able to cash out right then and there for her niece before the stocks fell even farther.  She’d been so grateful for Murdoch’s presence and help, but it was time to leave this grand house with its excellent meals, if Scott’s exit this evening was any indication of his feelings.  Penny Rose was a handful with her incessant chatter or humming or practicing of her stage routine.  And she certainly let her wishes be known that her Aunt Hester and “Uncle Murdoch” should marry so she could live at Lancer forever.  It was embarrassing for all.  They needed to leave.

Miraculously, Johnny came back from fixing the line shack the afternoon of the day Hester and Penny Rose left.  Scott wondered which ranch hand was the informant.  Murdoch had taken Cipriano with him to Merced, and Scott was happy that the two old friends would have some time together away from the ranch.  That left Scott in charge.

Scott, Teresa, and Johnny had dinner in the kitchen that night.  The table in the great room seemed far too formal for their liking without the Lancer patriarch there to preside over the meal.  They persuaded Maria to eat with them, and soon the three of them were regaling Johnny with all the miseries they’d endured from the nine-year-old.  Maria had some of the best stories.  Apparently, Penny Rose had treated Maria like she was her servant, despite Hester’s admonishments to her about behaving herself.  The little girl had made some outrageous and disrespectful demands.  They all laughed themselves silly at the awful things Penny Rose had said to the cook, and in the end, Scott raised his water glass to toast their leaving.  “In celebration of peace and quiet returning to the house,” he said, and then winking at Johnny added, “despite my brother coming back home.”

“Very funny,” Johnny grinned as he took a sip of milk.

Teresa jumped on Scott’s toast.  “You’re right, we should have a celebration, a fiesta, for enduring their stay.”

“Sounds good to me,” Johnny chimed in.

“I wasn’t seriously suggesting…” Scott began.

“Why not?” Teresa interrupted him.  “And we’re not the only ones who suffered.  Penny Rose did her act for the ranch hands, too.  I overheard them saying they should be given extra pay for having their evenings spoiled.”

“You’re the boss, Scott,” Johnny said. “It’s about time the men had a break.  They’ve been working hard for a while.”

Scott gave it some thought.  The Lord knew he could use some down time.  Why not everybody?   “Let’s do it,” he proclaimed, and Johnny and Teresa let out a whoop.

The next day, Scott sent the hands out to place the salt licks around the pastures holding the herds.  After that necessary task was done, everyone had the rest of the day off, unless they wanted to help with preparations for a fiesta the following day.   Amazingly, all the salt licks were distributed by lunch, and with the number of hands helping with the decorations and rearrangement of the courtyard, the preparations for the fiesta were finished by mid-afternoon, in plenty of time for everyone to have a relaxing remainder of the day.

On the day of the fiesta everyone slept in late and then helped with the food preparation under Maria’s strict supervision.  After that, the party to end all parties commenced.  Some of the hands brought out their instruments, and music, singing, and dancing began.  Tall tales were swapped, card games were played, and various small competitions were held among the men. Scott invaded the wine cellar and the liquor flowed; however, he was careful to keep his father’s imported scotch supply untouched.  The fiesta lasted long into the night, and they all decided to clean the mess up the next day.  In all probability, Murdoch and Cipriano would be returning in the late afternoon, if they hadn’t lingered in Merced.  Scott wanted all traces of the party gone by the time his father returned.  He knew it wouldn’t be long before news of the fiesta would reach Murdoch’s ears, but he wanted at least a few hours’ respite before his ears got blistered by his father’s furious tongue.

Johnny clapped him on the back as they wearily climbed the stairs to their bedrooms after the party.  “You’re the best bossman ever, brother,” he said.  He waited a few seconds before adding, “Too bad it’ll be your last day as one once Murdoch gets wind of what you’ve done.”

Scott chuckled and hit Johnny lightly on the arm.

Johnny hit back…harder.

Soon they were wrestling on the floor of the hallway.  Their tussling had Teresa poking her head out of her bedroom door.  She stomped over to where her “brothers” were laughing and thrashing about.  Hands on hips, she chastised, “Brothers fighting!” just as she’d done by the lake the second day they’d been at the hacienda.  They stopped their wrangling and grinned at her.

“Wanna join us?” Johnny asked, grabbing her wrist and pulling her down onto the floor.

“I wouldn’t want to embarrass you both by beating you!” she declared.

That sent them all laughing again.  Sighing, Teresa laid her head on Johnny’s shoulder.  “This was the happiest day ever.”

Johnny nodded at Scott.  “Thanks to your idea.”

“It wasn’t me,” Scott demurred.  “As I recall, it was her idea.”

“From your toast,” she said.

“Whoever said it,” Johnny said, “it was still a damned good idea.”

They sat there completely content for a few minutes.  Then Scott said, “I don’t think I have the energy to get up off this floor.”

“Me, either,” Johnny agreed.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!”  Teresa rose to her feet and grabbing one hand of Scott’s and another of Johnny’s, she pulled the men to their feet.  “And don’t sleep all day tomorrow!  Maria and I are not going to do all the cleanup!”  She huffed back to her room and practically slammed her door.

“I think she’s the bossman,” Scott remarked, and that sent Johnny chuckling all the way to his bedroom.

As Scott had predicted, Murdoch and Cipriano returned from Merced the next afternoon.  There was no trace that a fiesta had occurred the day before.  Scott was quite proud of that as well as how everyone had pulled together to make the special day happen.  However, the expected tongue-lashing from his father never occurred.

Murdoch had been happy to return to a peaceful hacienda.  He and Cipriano had declined Hester MacLaughlin’s near desperate plea for them to stay longer.  But Penny Rose’s lamentations about leaving Lancer and living in Merced had tested even his nerves.  Having a child in the house had given rise to dreams about his sons marrying and having children.  He couldn’t wait to be a grandfather, having missed his sons’ childhoods.  He had reveled in being a father to Johnny for those all-too-short years.  He wanted to be there for his grandchildren’s early years and spoil them rotten like he did with Penny Rose.

Jelly had been quick to rush out to greet him.  The old man had taken him aside and told him what Scott had done—giving the hands days off and having a party.  At first, Murdoch had been surprised and could feel his anger rising.  But the image of his teenaged elder son at Libby, cold, scared, starving, and being subjected to listening to “Goober Peas,” dissipated any ire.  If that’s what Scott needed to right his ship after Penny Rose’s visit, by God, that was all right with him.  Although he thought he saw Scott shoot him some cautious looks, he resolved to keep quiet about the fiesta and did so, to Jelly’s consternation.  The hands seemed happier and more productive than ever.  And it felt good to surprise his sons by saying nothing and keep them guessing where the old man was concerned.  Everything had worked out just fine.

And so ended the involvement of the Lancer men with Hester MacLaughlin and Penny Rose Evans, except for the unfortunate incident some months later when Scott landed in jail over hitting the piano player in the Spanish Wells saloon.  The pianist perversely played a particular tune over and over again, despite Scott’s pleas for him to stop and even a monetary bribe.  It ended when a drunken Scott Lancer threatened to break the man’s fingers and then punched him in the face.  The next morning, a chagrined and sober Scott paid the fine and medical bill and went on his way, cursing Penny Rose Evans and trying, again unsuccessfully, to get “Oh, dem Golden Slippers” out of his brain.

---

Hester MacLaughlin’s dreams about her and Penny Rose coming together in blissful harmony as a family were short-lived.  Her niece seemed fixated on sneaking into the saloon at night and performing for the patrons.  Both the owner and the bartender had told her in no uncertain terms to keep the child away from their establishment.

They’d been living together for a mere four months before Penny Rose ran away.  It hadn’t been difficult to find her and return her to her new home.  The girl had whined about going to Columbia for the previous two months.  Apparently, the town had been a lucrative stop for Godfrey and Penelope Evans.  Hester tried to explain to the girl that the town had lost much of its grandeur and money since the gold mines ran out.  Columbia had seriously been in contention for the capital of California in 1850.  Its population had topped 150,000 then but now was just a third of it.  The committee had made a wise choice in selecting Sacramento as the capital.  That didn’t deter Penny Rose from insisting she’d make out very well there—enough so they could go to Vienna—and not listening to anything to the contrary.

Hester was at her wit’s end.  Short of tying Penny Rose up at night or to her seat at school, all her schemes to keep her niece in Merced and in school were unsuccessful.  After Penny Rose’s fourth attempt to run away to Columbia failed, Hester knew she had to take more drastic measures, which was why they were taking the stage into Stockton.  There was a convent on the outskirts of town that was reported to specialize in handling miscreant girls.

The convent, Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow, looked quite nice, the buildings and grounds well-tended.  There were three buildings: a dormitory, a classroom facility, and a chapel all in gleaming white stucco.  They arrived in mid-morning and the chirping of birds were the only sounds to be heard amid the quiet campus.  Penny Rose had finally realized all her protestations and whining were for naught and had retreated into a sullen, sulking refusal to speak to her aunt, for which Hester was very grateful.  A novice led them into the administrative section of the classroom building where they were greeted by the abbess/headmistress.  The nun looked to be in her late forties and had a strict, no-nonsense air about her, which gave Hester hope that they could handle Penny Rose.  Behind the desk was a banner that read: EDUCTATING GIRLS THROUGH THE FEAR OF GOD.  Hester smiled to herself.  She had picked the right place.

The headmistress asked Penny Rose a few questions.  The girl didn’t disappoint.  She boldly declared her life’s ambition was to perform in saloons and informed them that book learning was a complete waste of time, according to her father.  The abbess listened stoically, her face pinched, and then had Penny Rose and her belongings taken to the dormitory.  She turned to Hester.  “I can see why you brought her here, Miss MacLaughlin.  We’ll soon set her upon the righteous path.”  Hester thanked her profusely.   She then handed over a year’s worth of tuition, which surprised and greatly pleased the abbess.  Feeling like she had done the best for her niece and her eccentric, deceased brother, Hester returned to Merced.

Penny Rose was being punished constantly at Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow.  The child just could not stop singing, dancing, and, in general, acting provocatively.  She couldn’t understand why the nuns didn’t think she was the most adorable child ever.  The girl had difficulty paying attention to her lessons and tended to hum to herself while reading, for which her knuckles received a resounding whack from a nun’s ruler.  She was not a model student.  After four months of unhappiness, Penny Rose ran away.  She was found and returned to the convent, but when she ran away again the following month, the nuns just let her go.  The girl was disruptive and, worse, tried to coerce the other girls into rebellion as well.  The abbess said a brief prayer for the runaway girl but was relieved to see her gone.  Some girls were just bad pennies who could not be redeemed through prayer and prostration.  She wrote a letter to the girl’s aunt.

Hester MacLaughlin never received the letter.  Upon arriving in Merced from Stockton, she found a letter waiting for her from her spinster aunt, Martha.  The woman was getting on in years and could barely manage her place.  Would Hester consider moving in with her?  Hester couldn’t have been more pleased with the invitation.  After the mess with Penny Rose, she welcomed a change in her life.  Moving to Eugene, Oregon, might be just the thing to energize her flagging spirits.  Taking care of Aunt Martha would at least provide her life with more purpose than working day after day at the emporium in Merced for mere dimes.  She found a family who were on their way to Astoria, and they welcomed her to join them.  Hester helped with taking care of the younger children and with making meals along their journey.  The children were a delight and their mother a pleasant woman.  It was a tearful parting all around when she left them at Eugene.

Hester hadn’t any distinct memories of her maiden aunt, but she found the woman fairly tolerable if not overly friendly or talkative.  Still, they got along as well as could be expected for two adult women each set in her ways living under the same roof.  The house was large, and her aunt took in boarders, which she neglected to tell Hester in the letter.  But Hester didn’t mind.  Her days were filled with activity, and some of the boarders could be downright amusing.  She was glad she made the move and secretly hoped Martha would leave the house to her upon her death.  She wanted a secure future.  She needn’t have worried.  A few months after her arrival, the widower blacksmith had taken a shine to her.  Eventually, they were married, and Hester’s future was safe, secure, and very happy.

---

Johnny sat back in the saloon and gratefully drank the beer set down in front of him.  He’d ridden into Lone Pine late, but the liveryman had directed him to the Hernandez cafeas a possible place to get some Mexican food.  He could tell that the place was closing up for the night, but Señora Hernandez had been kind enough to make him enchiladas and beans.  The meal was delicious, and Johnny paid them more than they requested.  They invited him to use their back room for the night, which Johnny thankfully accepted.  Now with a full stomach and his accommodations taken care of, he had retreated to the saloon for a drink before retiring for the night.

A saloon girl wove her way through the tables half full of customers.  None of them called out to her nor paid any attention to her.  She stopped in front of his table.

“New in town?” she asked him, feigning interest.

“Just passing through,” Johnny said, keeping his eyes on the table.  Marissa would have his hide if she ever found out he’d been with a saloon gal.

“Would you like some comp’ny, ‘just passing through’?”

“Not tonight.”  Johnny sighed.  He hoped this gal wasn’t one of those women who wouldn’t take a simple “no” for an answer.  He didn’t feel like being rude tonight, but he would be if pressed.

“Don’t I know you?” she persisted.

Johnny sighed at this obvious ploy, but it made him look up at her.  She was a dishwater blonde of uncertain age.  Was she middle-aged or just a young girl who had endured too many years of a hard life?  Being a saloon whore took its toll on a female.  She had much too much make-up on to be sure of her age or what she really looked like—a plain gal who painted her lips outside her natural contours and given herself a big black, fake mole high on her left cheek.  He didn’t recognize her, but maybe there was something a bit familiar about her.

A piano player took up a seat at the rickety piano and started to tap out a tune.  The girl continued to squint at Johnny for a few seconds, but then said, “That’s my cue.  Buy me a drink later?  Maybe we can have some real fun after…”  There was no enthusiasm in her voice, and he doubted she’d be much fun in bed.  She struck him as one of those gals who just laid there fervently wishing for the whole thing to be over with as quickly as possible.  He was grateful he was married to his beautiful Marissa and had no desire for such extramarital activities anymore.  She sashayed to the piano just as the pianist began to hammer out a familiar tune.  She began to sing, and Johnny gulped down the rest of his beer and hustled out of the place.  

He found Señor Hernandez sitting in a chair outside his establishment enjoying the cool autumn air.  Johnny sat down in the chair opposite him, shaking his head with a grin on his face.

“You are amused?” Hernandez asked in Spanish.

“That song,” Johnny answered in kind.

“It is one you like?”

“Me?  No.  But it is one of my brother’s favorites.”  Johnny chuckled at his private joke, remembering how Scott had spent a night in jail because of it.

“Every night he plays it,” Hernandez complained.  “And then the girl, Rose, sings.  Ay, she does not sing it so good.”

No, it couldn’t be, Johnny thought.  It had been over ten years.  Penny Rose would be around nineteen, twenty years old.  The saloon gal had looked older.  Still, now that he thought more about it, he couldn’t say it wasn’t Penny Rose.  She could easily have dropped the “Penny,” and he couldn’t guess the woman’s age with all that stuff on her face.  He hadn’t spent that much time around her when she had visited the ranch all those years ago.  Not as much as Scott had.  But he remembered that fiesta they’d had when she’d left.  It was one of his favorite memories.

“That saloon girl, she is new in town, a month maybe, but already I am eager for her to leave,” Hernandez continued to lament.  “The saloons in Bishop drove her away and down here.  She demanded that the patrons give her money for her singing, and they did not want to part with their money for her efforts.  Eventually, she drove them and their money away from whatever saloon she was in and she was let go.”

“If that happens here, it should help your business,” Johnny observed, his mind still racing. But her name was Rose.  And the singing was certainly still as poor.  After all these years, could it be? 

“Ay, I do not need the likes of those men coming here and pestering my Juanita,” Señor Hernandez said.

Johnny nodded and yawned.  He was too tired to go back to the saloon and investigate further.  What good would come from it anyway?  It was time to move his butt off the chair and go to bed.  He patted Hernandez’ shoulder as he rose to make his way back to his room for the night. “I’ll pray for the lady’s rapid departure.”

Hernandez laughed and said, “May all your prayers be answered, señor!” 

The piano continued to bang out “Oh, dem Golden Slippers,” but Johnny couldn’t hear the singing.  It was probably just as well.  He’d just make sure Scott steered clear of Lone Pine for the foreseeable future.

~end~
November 2023

* Just a nit: “Oh, dem Golden Slippers” was copyrighted in 1879.  We generally think that the Lancer episodes were set in 1870-1.  If only the scriptwriters had the internet back then…

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