The Guardhouse by SandySha

Word Count 4,784

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Written for the Lancer Writer ‘55^th Anniversary Episode Tag Celebration’
Many thanks to Doc (Terri Derr), my very patient beta.

Have you ever wondered what Johnny was thinking or doing while locked up in the guardhouse? 

#1 in the Lawman Series

Episode Tag:  The Lawman

I asked Mama one time what my middle name was.  She was quick enough to say it was ‘trouble.’  I guess she was right ‘cause I can’t seem to stay out of it.  One way or another, it finds me, and this time, I sure got myself into one hell of a fix.  A few months ago, I jumped out of the frying pan when that Pinkerton agent saved my hide, and now I’ve ended up with the fire licking at my heels…again.  Sometimes…most times, I wonder how the old man puts up with me.    

When morning comes, the posse will be riding out looking for Evans.  I know Scott will be with them, but I’d give anything to have him with me right now.  I’ve only had a brother for a few short months, and there’s a lot that hasn’t been said between us.  If Thompkins has his way, there won’t be much time left… Well, I won’t go there right now.

As I looked at my surroundings, I couldn’t help but feel a shiver run down my spine.  This isn’t where I figured I’d be spending the night, but there’s no help for it now. 

Wrapping my arms tightly around my chest, I tried to push down the panic I felt bubbling up inside me.  I’m not fond of dark, closed-in places, never have been, and don’t expect I ever will.  This one’s no different, even though I own a third of it.  Imagine being locked in your own building.

The damp, musty-smelling room can’t be more than four feet by six feet; the only light coming into it is through a small barred window in the door.  On the long wall, the thinnest Indian blanket I’ve ever seen covers a knotted rope cot and a single wooden stool at the end near the door.   That’s it, but I guess no one in here needs more.

I felt a coldness creep over me and a shudder run the length of my body.  I know it has nothing to do with the fact that all I have to keep me warm are the clothes on my back.  It was as if someone had walked across my grave.  The last time I felt like this, I was in a Mexican prison with nothing to look forward to except a firing squad.  If they don’t find Evans, this time it’ll be a noose.  

Sitting alone here, all I’ve got is time… time to think—and one name keeps coming to mind: Joe Barker.  I’d never even heard the name until two weeks ago, and now I wish I never had.  

I remember that night when Murdoch told us about the telegram he’d gotten from his oldest friend.  It turns out Barker is a marshal in some piss-ant town called Porterville.  He and two deputies were bringing a prisoner north to Sacramento to stand trial and planned to stop for a visit.  At the time, I thought it was strange that Barker was going fifty miles out of his way to visit, but I kept my peace.

We don’t talk much about the past at Lancer.  The old man likes to think everything that happened before Scott and me came home is all in the past, but that night, we heard some tall tales about Murdoch meeting Barker some twenty years earlier in, of all places, Reynosa.

I know Reynosa.  When I was younger, I spent a lot of time around there.  Mama and me were there off and on for years.  Then, one day, it was another one of those places Mama couldn’t get out of fast enough.

Later, when Barker became the town marshal of Abilene, Kansas, he talked Murdoch into becoming his deputy. To hear Murdoch tell it, Barker tamed the town almost single-handedly.

I’ve been to Abilene more than once.  Back in ’67, I hired out to Joe McCoy when the first cattle herds started coming up the Chisholm Trial.  The town was wide open, and Johnny Madrid’s gun made sure Joe kept the cattle he was buying.   As wild as Abilene was then, it must have been really something twenty years earlier.s  

Scott and Teresa asked most of the questions that night.  The only one I had was… what was Murdoch doing in Mexico?  I never did get a straight answer, but I guess it was as straight as I was going to get.    All Murdoch said was that he was there on business, and later, when he went to work for Barker, it was because money had been tight, and he needed it to keep the ranch going. 

When the talk turned to where Barker was going to put his prisoner while at Lancer, Murdoch told us the thick-walled adobe building near the corral was once a jail built by Don Juan Alverado, the original Spanish owners of the estancia.   He said it was the county’s last guardhouse, but over the past twenty-six years, it has been used mostly for storage.  Sure, they’d needed it as a jail a time or two, but not that often.

Murdoch asked me…well, ordered is more like it, to get the building fixed up for Barker, and I figured, why not?  At least I wasn’t planting fence posts and stringing devil wire, and in the four months I’d been at Lancer, I’d never even set foot in the place.    When I opened the door, I found stacks of boxes, layers of dust, cobwebs, and signs that a few varmints had set up housekeeping.   I took a few steps inside and almost lost my lunch.  Some of those varmints, or what was left of them, were still around.  The smell hit me like Boston’s fist in my gut that day by the lake.

It took me a couple of days, but by the time I finished, I have to admit it looked pretty good and smelled even better.  It sure felt good when Murdoch gave me a nod of approval.  Thinking back on it now, if I’d known I was going to be locked up in here, I’d have added a couple of blankets and a pillow.

Things were going just fine until Joe Barker showed up with his two deputies, Thompkins and Gibbs, and their prisoner, Al Evans. 

******

I didn’t remember Evans at first, and it jarred me some when he called me Madrid.  My stomach was tied up in knots the whole time I was telling him the name was Johnny Lancer.  I knew the day would come when my past would come knocking, but I didn’t figure it to be this soon.  Even when Stryker was stirring up trouble, the only one who mentioned Madrid was the old man.  Maybe if Sam Stryker had known who I was…well, as Murdoch likes to say, that’s past and gone.

It wasn’t until after dinner that night that I figured out where I’d met Evans…Cordova.  We’d hired onto a range war at the same time.  I didn’t remember much about the man, but here he was asking for my help.

I can still hear Evans’s whiny voice, “Johnny, you’ve gotta help me.  I didn’t hurt anybody.  I didn’t do anything.” I guess he thought he had me, so he started laying it on.  “I’m innocent.  I don’t wanta die for something I didn’t do.  ”

Yeah, Evans was good.  I sure didn’t see him playing me.  I had to chuckle, “Damn, Madrid.  You’re slipping.”

 I should have followed my gut and not let my guard down.  I learned the hard way not to trust anyone, and I’m not sure why I took Evans’s word over Barker’s, but I did.  

I made a point of not going to the dance.  I knew Teresa was gonna be disappointed, but I’m not good at being in crowds anyway.  Instead, I stayed outside listening to the music and watching the guardhouse in case of trouble. 

Like I said, trouble is my middle name, so when I heard the gunfire, I ran towards it.  If I’d known then what I know now, I’d have stayed on the portico and minded my own business.   

I was halfway across the yard when Evans started taking shots at me.  I tried to stop him, sending a couple of bullets his way, but he got away.  That’s when I went inside and figured out what was going on.  I was bending over Gibbs’s body when someone knocked me out.   When I came to, Thompkins was there, with a gun pointed at my heart, and telling me to drop my gun or he’d kill me. 

Cipriano, Frank, and a half dozen ranch hands came running in.   I looked at Thompkins and knew who I needed.  “Frank, go get Murdoch.”

Frank didn’t need telling twice.

A lot had happened, but short story: Somehow, Evans broke out, killed Gibbs, and high-tailed it for parts unknown, leaving me with a knot on my head, a headache, and holding the bag.  Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time.   The next thing I knew, Thompkins shoved me, not too gently, in here and slammed the door.

Thompkins was all for riding out right then and dragging me to Sacramento.  It wasn’t until Murdoch set Frank to watch me that the deputy agreed to leave me in the cell and go after Evans at sun up.   

A little later, I heard a squeak as the outside door opened, and then I heard Cipriano’s voice.  “Hola, Frank.”

“Cipriano, what’s going on?”

“Nada, mi amigo.  I think I will watch over Juanito tonight as well.” 

“There’s no need,” Frank replied.  “I can watch him.  I promised Mr. Lancer he wasn’t going anywhere.”

“Si, I know, but I think maybe you will need more …help… in case Senor Barker and Senor Thompkins change their minds and decide to leave for Sacramento tonight.”

I couldn’t see Frank’s face, but I understood what was happening when he spoke again.  “Yeah, I think you’re right, Cip.  We wouldn’t want them going anywhere until we find Evans.”     

I settled down to wait for morning.  Maybe if I could sleep, I’d wake up and find this was all a bad dream, but no matter how tired I am or how hard I try, it’s not gonna happen. 

I’ve been lying here, straining to hear what Frank and Cipriano were saying.  Everyone knows lawmen don’t take to one of their own getting killed.  I heard Cipriano say he’d put guards outside in case Barker or Thompkins decided to take the law into their own hands.   I felt some better when I figured out Lancer men were watching out for me.   Funny, guards are there to protect me from the law instead of protecting others from a criminal.  Even if it was dark and tight in here, it felt good knowing the men out there were loyal to the brand.  

********

The sound of men calling to each other and horses snorting filtered through the walls.  I knew it must be morning, and the posse would be heading out soon.   I heard the outside door open, and then Frank opened the door to the cell.

“Johnny, Miss Teresa brought you your breakfast.”

I rolled over and scooted up on the cot.  Behind Frank, I saw Teresa standing in the middle of the room with a sad smile.  

“Thanks, Teresa.”

She gave me a small wave.  “Let Frank know if you need anything else.”

She hurried out before I could ask her if Murdoch or Scott were coming in to check on me.  After she left, I looked at what she’d brought.   I know she and Maria had to have been up early to get breakfast going before everyone left to search for Evans.   The women must have thought I was going to starve ‘cause there was a double helping of everything.  It sure looked good, but when I took a bite, it felt like I was chewing sawdust. 

A few minutes later, I heard the posse riding out.   Any appetite I had was gone.   With a six-hour head start, it will be hard for them to track Evans, and if they don’t find him… well, I’m not going there right now.

Frank came in to get the tray.  Looking at the almost untouched plate, he shook his head.   “You sure didn’t eat much.”

“Not hungry, Frank.”

“Johnny…”

“Frank?”

“Johnny, me and the fellows know you didn’t kill Gibbs.”

I managed a weak smile.  “Thanks.  It means a lot that you believe me.”

“What I’m saying is I could leave the door unlocked and make sure everyone is doing something else.  Barranca—”

“No.” I held up a hand.  “Frank, hold on.  I appreciate it, but Murdoch gave his word that you’d make sure I didn’t take off.”

“But…”

“Frank…”

“Johnny, if they don’t find Evans, Barker and Thompkins won’t have no choice but to take you to Sacramento.  Mr. Lancer may have faith in the law, but I don’t.   Look, I’ve known the boss a long time.  When you and Scott came home, I think it was the happiest I’d ever seen him.  I know seeing you swinging would kill him.”

I dipped my head and took a deep breath.  All I could do was nod.

“Just think on it, Johnny.”

Frank walked out and shut the door.  When I heard the latch click, it felt like the walls were closing in on me again.   As much as I don’t want to admit it, this thing has me worried.  If they don’t find Evans, there’s a good chance I will swing once they get me to Sacramento. 

I’ve seen my share of hangings.  The first time, I was five, and we were living in a small border town in Texas.  It was like a fiesta with music and laughter.  When it came time for the hanging, everyone swarmed around the gallows.

 I was small enough that I pushed my way to the front of the crowd and watched a bearded, beaten-down man slowly shuffle from the jail and up the steps to the gallows.  His footsteps sounded hollow as he walked across the platform and stood over the trap door.   I looked up, and he was staring at me.  For the first time, I saw he was a mestizo with blue eyes like mine.   I saw those eyes widen with fear just before they put a hood over his head.

The man struggled when they put the rope around his neck and pulled it tight.  Then the trap door opened, and he fell… his neck should have broken, but it didn’t.  There was a horrible gagging sound, and the crowd went quiet.  I couldn’t take my eyes off his legs as they flayed in all directions, searching for purchase that wasn’t there.

When his legs stilled, I heard a brief noise…a ‘plop’ and saw a small puff of dirt form into a crater under him.  A drop of water had run off the toe of his boot and hit the ground.  When a second drop fell, and the smell of urine filled the air, I was horrified, knowing the last mortal thing that man did was piss himself.  I suddenly felt ashamed of myself for being there.

I never wanted to see that again, but sometimes, we don’t get what we wish for.  Yeah, I’ve seen men swing… more than once.  The thought of Murdoch and Scott watching me take those last steps and then…Dios, what if my neck doesn’t snap?  No, I wouldn’t want them there.  I don’t want them to see —.

Stop it!  Damn, a man could drive himself crazy thinking like that. 

******

I knew it was getting late in the morning, and no one was telling me anything.  I looked at the closed door and wondered what was happening.  I’ve got to admit I’m disappointed that other than Teresa, no one in my family had taken the time to poke their heads in to check on me.  It’s got me thinking that maybe they really believe Thompkins, and they’ve just plain given up on me.   

I’d resigned myself to the fact that neither Murdoch nor Scott were coming to visit me when I heard the old man’s booming voice.

 “I’d like to see Johnny.”  I heard him walking towards the cell door and took a deep breath.  I could feel myself smiling when the door opened, and he stepped in, his bulk filling the small door frame.  

“Hi.” He smiled back, and I felt the knot in my chest loosen for the first time since Evans took a shot at me and rode away.

We sat there talking about Evans and the posse.  I could tell things weren’t looking good, but it was more than that.  I knew Murdoch wanted to tell me something, and I could feel a knot forming in my chest at what he wasn’t saying.

That’s when he gave me the chance to grab a horse and hightail it down to Mexico.

I looked at my old man, and my heart fell.  Here I thought he’d come because… well, I’d hoped… hell, I don’t know what I was hoping for, but it wasn’t him giving me a chance to ride away before the posse got back.  I saw the expression on his face and knew he was going against everything he’d always believed.

Murdoch Lancer was as straight as an arrow when it came to the law.  I know it took him a lot to make the offer, but still, I felt a little disappointed.  Maybe he didn’t have as much faith in me being innocent as I thought.  Was this his way of getting rid of a bad penny?  Well, I wasn’t going to make it that easy.

When I told him I wasn’t going to run, I thought he might have been proud of me.  That was until Joe Barker swung the door open, glowered at me, and spoke to my father.  “Murdoch, if you’ve got any sense, you’ll hustle that son of yours onto a horse and beat his tail out of here.”

After Barker left us alone, I don’t think either of us knew what to do or say.  We still don’t know each other well enough to show emotion.  It just wasn’t in either of us.  The best the old man could come up with was a hard slap to my leg and saying, “We’ll clear you of this.  I know we will.”

I wasn’t sure how I felt after he left, and the door was closed and locked.  My old man cared enough about me to offer me a way out.   He was willing to let me go.  I sure hope I made the right decision.

******

 A few hours later, the outside door squeaked open.  I couldn’t help but laugh.  That door had gotten more use in the last two days than it had in the past twenty-six years.

I heard a soft voice talking to the guard.  The cell door opened, and Teresa marched in carrying a covered tray.  I hadn’t even thought about lunch, wasn’t hungry at breakfast, wasn’t now.  Without a word, she looked back at Cipriano and nodded.  He closed the door, but I could tell he didn’t lock it.

“I thought you’d be hungry.” Teresa sat the tray on the cot and pushed it my way.  “You hardly ate any of the breakfast Maria and I fixed for you.”

“I really don’t have much of an appetite.”

She sat down next to me.  “But you have to eat.  Johnny…” Tears were pooling in her eyes. 

I put an arm around her shoulders.  “It’s alright, querida.  Everything’s gonna be alright.”

She raised her head and looked me straight in the eyes.  “Johnny, I’m so scared.  I know you didn’t shoot Mr. Gibbs and set Evans free.  Surely, Mr. Barker can see that.”

“I wish he could, but even if he did, Thompkins won’t.  He found me kneeling over the body with a gun in my hand.”

“Murdoch told me what you said about finding Mr. Gibbs and explained why two bullets were missing from your gun.” 

I pulled her in a tight hug and laughed, “I wish you were gonna be the judge in Sacramento.” 

“Don’t laugh.  It isn’t funny.  I heard Murdoch and Mr. Barker arguing in the Great Room.  Mr. Barker told Murdoch he needed to let you go and that you could be in Mexico in a few days.  Murdoch said he wouldn’t make you a fugitive.  Mr. Barker said it wasn’t Murdoch’s decision.  It was yours.”

That’s when it hit me.  That’s where Murdoch got the idea.  He was willing to let me decide if I wanted to get away, not because he was sure I was innocent, but because Barker suggested it.  Well, I sure hope I passed the old man’s test.  No matter.  I made my decision, and I’ll live with it…I hope. 

I looked at Teresa and knew she was waiting for an answer.  “I’m not running, Teresa.  I know what that kind of life is like.”

“But…”

“No.”  I put a finger to her lips.  “Murdoch trusts in Barker and the law.  As much as I hate to admit it, I have to trust Murdoch.   Scott and the others will find Evans.  Now, you go back inside and try to relax.”

“I can’t relax.  Scott came back with Barker, but then he rode out again alone.  Murdoch and Mr. Barker went after him.  It’s been hours, and they still haven’t come back.”

“They’ll be back when they catch Evans.  Now, go on back to the house.  This is no place for you.”

She looked around the cell, and I could see her visibly shiver.  “I never liked this place, even when I was little.  Daddy always told me to stay out of here.”

I laughed, “I can understand why.”

She stood and started to go.  I picked up the still-covered tray and held it out to her.  “Better take this with you.”

She looked at the tray and hesitated.  When I saw her blush, I had a feeling she wanted to tell me something.  I sat the tray down again and lifted the corner of the checkered cloth covering the tray.  Next to the plate of food lay a folded napkin.  I raised it and spotted a small derringer I recognized as the one Murdoch kept in his desk drawer.

Dropping the cloth, I looked at her.  “You, too?”

“Me too, what?” 

“Teresa—”

“No, wait, Johnny.  I think Mr. Barker’s right.  You have to leave before everyone gets back.  You could be safe in Mexico in a few days.”

“Teresa, in case you’ve forgotten, Mexico ain’t exactly safe for me any more than Sacramento would be.”

She heaved a sigh and picked up the tray.   “Alright, but I think you’re wrong.”

“Maybe, but right now, this is the right thing to do.”  I pointed at the tray.   “Be sure to put that back where you found it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.  Now go on and… Teresa, tell Scott to come see me when he gets back.”

“I will.”  She bent over and kissed me on the cheek.  

When Cipriano opened the door, Teresa looked at him and shook her head.   He looked at me hard before pushing the door closed.  I didn’t hear it lock.   At least I knew that everyone had my back, and if it came to it, there were parts of Mexico where I could still show my face and not get shot… or hung.

After Teresa left, I leaned against the rough brick wall, pulled my knees up to my chest, looked around the small, dark cell, and felt that shudder again.

Maybe I should go while I can, but this time, my gut told me I was doing the right thing.  As much as it went against my grain, I had to trust the man I spent my entire life hating.  I’m a firm believer that actions speak louder than words, and I knew that, no matter what, Murdoch wouldn’t let me down.

End
August 2023/ Revised May 2024

To Louder Than Words

Author’s notes:

The show’s writers had a hard time with places and times.  That was especially true when it came to Abilene, Kansas.

Before 1860, Abilene didn’t exist except as a stage stop named Mud Creek.  In 1867, Joseph McCoy built a hotel, a stable, and the town’s first stockyards next to the Kansas Pacific Railway tracks.  That same year, Abilene became the final destination of cattle herds driven up the Chisholm Trail from Texas.   In 1871, more than 5,000 cowboys herded from 600,000 to 700,000 cows to Abilene and other Kansas railheads.  Abilene was known as an ‘anything goes’ town and was one of the wildest towns in the West.

There is an Abilene, Texas, but it didn’t exist until 1881. It was also a cattle shipping point and named after Abilene, Kansas.

Neither town would have exited in 1850, twenty years before the events in The Lawman.

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