by  JEB

A missing scene or what happened next for Legacy.  An attempt to fill in the gaps in Legacy such as the conversation Scott had with his grandfather, what Johnny might have said to him after his announcement that he was leaving to go back to Boston and on the ride to the neighbor’s ranch after he was shot.

Rating : Definitely a G.  No profanity, smut or other potentially offensive material.

    Scott Lancer struggled feebly against the strong arms that were wrapped around him.  His grandfather was in danger and he couldn’t get his brother Johnny or his father Murdoch to let him help.  His head ached fiercely and he was unable to sit up but that didn’t stop him from struggling.

    Scott didn’t know it but the Deegan brothers, Carl and Billy by name, had shot him in an attempt to get to his grandfather and the large amount of money he was carrying in his wallet.  They’d seen it when the old man had given them money to buy drinks with while waiting to see if their story about their father’s murder at the hands of Murdoch Lancer would be needed.  Greedy souls that they were they had decided to ambush the old man and take his money.

    A shot had been fired interrupting Scott’s conversation with his grandfather as it creased the side of his head and knocked him out of his seat on the buckboard and onto the ground.  He hit the ground hard and rolled over a couple of times before coming to a stop face down.  He was vaguely aware of his grandfather shouting his name and the buckboard seemingly running away with Harlan Garrett.

    Johnny and Murdoch had come along scarcely a minute later and found Scott trying to get up but apparently too dazed and dizzy to accomplish even that.  Johnny had reached Scott’s side first and wrapped his arms around his brother.  Scott had struggled to get up in spite of Johnny’s “You’re not goin’ nowhere”.  Another attempt to rise, though Johnny and Murdoch never released their hold on him, and Johnny’s voice was harsher this time.  “Stay down!” he’d commanded. Tall as Scott was his brother supported him and helped him walk to where Murdoch held Barranca’s reins.  Once there Johnny practically tossed his older brother up into the saddle as if he weighed no more than a child. He reached down for the hat Scott accidentally knocked off his head and then mounted behind him. Briefly Scott had submitted to his family’s wishes but as Murdoch and Johnny discussed - if you could call Murdoch’s command to get Scott to the neighbor’s ranch over the hill a discussion - what to do with Scott before Murdoch went riding off on his own to assist his former father-in-law once Scott was securely on Barranca’s back with Johnny sitting behind him with his arms wrapped around him.

    Scott had leaned forward to try and grab Barranca’s reins but his father held the right one just out of his reach and the left one was too far down Barranca’s neck and anyway Johnny had hold of it and mounted quickly once he retrieved his hat.  Johnny’s request that his father wait for help went unheeded and Murdoch raced off to assist Harlan while Johnny took Scott to the neighbor’s.

    “Take it easy big brother,” Johnny murmured as he turned Barranca toward the neighboring ranch.  “I’m gonna get you some help and then I’m gonna go after Murdoch and your grandfather.”

    “Gotta help Grandfather,” Scott kept insisting. 

    “You gotta get some help.”

    “No.  I gotta help Grandfather,” Scott mumbled again still struggling against his brother’s strong arms.

    “Settle down!”  Johnny spoke sharper than he wanted to but Scott was in no condition to help anyone.  Fortunately after a fifteen-minute ride the Talbot’s ranch house came into view.

    The neighbor himself greeted the brothers as they rode into the yard.  One look at Scott’s pale face and the blood on the side of his head and he assisted Johnny in getting his brother into the house where his wife took over.

    “Maura see what you can do for him,” the man said to his wife.  “I’m taking some of the hands and going with Johnny.  Murdoch needs our help.”

    “Of course.  Bring him in,” she said.

    Maura Talbot, a slip of a woman no more than 5’ 4” and 100 pounds soaking wet, bustled about showing Johnny the way to a bedroom on the first floor of the house.  There Johnny quickly, but gently, deposited his brother on the bed.

    “Gotta help Grandfather,” Scott mumbled repeatedly.

    “Don’t worry brother.  Murdoch’s gone to help him and I’m going to help Murdoch.  You just stay here and let Mrs. Talbot take care of you.”   Johnny gave his brother a quick pat on the shoulder and then hurried back outside to lead the way to the area where the ambush had taken place.  From there they would follow the road to catch up with Murdoch.  Johnny just hoped they were in time.

    As Scott lay on that bed he drifted off into a light sleep troubled by dreams of the events of the last few days.  He’d been so happy to have his grandfather come all the way from Boston for a visit.  He’d been surprised, to say the least, when he discovered that the old man had brought Julie, his ex-fiancée with him.

    Getting reacquainted with Julie had been wonderful even with Johnny’s teasing about how “pretty” he was as he stood in front of a mirror checking his appearance before taking Julie for a ride.  The revelation that Harlan Garrett had brought Julie out to California for the specific purpose of trying to lure him back to Boston had been difficult enough to take.  Especially upon hearing that Garrett had threatened to destroy Julie’s ailing father’s business.  But then his grandfather had introduced him to the Deegan brothers.

    “Your pa killed our pa,” Carl Deegan had told Scott.

    “I don’t believe it,” Scott had said.

    “It’s true Scotty,” Garrett had told his grandson.  “I read it in the Pinkerton report.”

    “My brother told you the truth,” Billy Deegan had declared.

    “If you agree to come back to Boston with me Scotty I think I can persuade these gentlemen not to press charges against Murdoch.”

    Scott was torn.  He loved his grandfather but he loved his brother and had come to respect his father.  He loved Lancer.  How could he leave?  How could he just turn his back on everything he’d worked so hard to save and the family he’d just found to go back to being Harlan Garrett’s grandson with no identity apart from that?  Granted some people around Morro Coyo, Green River or Spanish Wells thought of him as Murdoch Lancer’s son and a few as Johnny Lancer’s older brother but they also knew him for himself.  In Boston that would all change.  But how could he let these men swear out a complaint charging Murdoch with murder?

    In the end he’d agreed, reluctantly, to return to his life in Boston.  It wasn’t an easy choice but he’d felt it was the only way to protect Murdoch.  He hadn’t been given any time to think about it or look into the accusations so he agreed.

    Breaking the news to the family and Jelly, who was as good as family, had been hard.  Johnny had fallen asleep over a chess game that he and Jelly were playing.  Murdoch was seated on the sofa with a book and Teresa, his loving almost sister, was sitting in a chair in a corner of the room knitting.  When he’d entered the room with his grandfather he’d told them he had an announcement to make and that somebody’d better wake Johnny.  If he was going to make this announcement he was going to tell everyone at once.

    Nobody took it well.  Scott was near tears his heart was so heavy.  His grandfather, pleased at getting his own way, put his hand on Scott’s shoulder and tried to convince the others that he was as surprised as they were.  Johnny came wide-awake with Scott’s announcement.  When Scott left the room Johnny rose from his place by the chessboard and followed after him.  The look he gave Harlan Garrett had scared many men in his former life as Johnny Madrid but the old man seemed not to notice.

    Johnny went straight to Scott’s room where instinct told him his brother had gone.  Well, instinct and the sound of the door closing.  Johnny tried the door only to find that it was locked.


    “Go away Johnny.”

    “Come on brother open the door and let’s talk.”


    “Come on Scott!  You don’t mean it!  You can’t be serious about going back to Boston!”

    “I do mean it.”

    “Come on Scott – open up.  Let’s talk.”

    “I’ve made my decision Johnny. I don’t want to talk about it any more.  Now please – just go away and leave me alone.”

    Johnny tried the door once more but neither door to Scott’s room would yield.  He considered breaking in but figured that would just get him into hot water with his brother and his father.

    Next morning everyone gathered around as Scott and Harlan got onto the buckboard to leave.  Scott fastened the luggage down in the back and stood in front of the buckboard seat to take a last look around.  Teresa told him they didn’t want him to go.  Jelly had said that Boston was a long way off even if they were invited.  It seemed like Jelly wasn’t too sure of the welcome they would get.  Murdoch tried to tell Scott that if he ever wanted to he could come back.  Johnny just looked angry.  He’d tried insulting his brother by asking him if it was because he’d gotten a little sand in his boots.  Murdoch wasn’t happy with him but Johnny hadn’t cared.  He wanted to know why his brother suddenly felt that he had to go back to Boston.  Scott had looked downright miserable but still wouldn’t answer his brother.  Johnny’s “good-bye Scott” had the sound of tears in it though they didn’t show on his face or in his eyes.

    Driving off with his grandfather had been one of the hardest things Scott had ever done in his life.  The conversation they had while driving along had been less than pleasant.  His grandfather was convinced that he was right and that Scott would forgive him once they got back to Boston and had some time to work on it.  Scott’s reply was lost when a rifle shot that knocked him out of his seat.

    Murdoch and Johnny had come along almost immediately after and now here he was stuck at the neighbors’ with no way of going to his grandfather’s aid.  Angry as he was with the older man he was frantic – as frantic as a guy who couldn’t sit up, walk or think straight could be.

    “Here son,” Maura Talbot said handing him a cup.  “Drink this peppermint tea I brewed you.  It’ll help your headache.”

    “Thanks.”  Scott took the cup and drank the contents slowly.  When he was finished his eyelids slowly drooped and he fell asleep. 

    Maura Talbot smiled and pulled the folded quilt at the foot of the bed up over the young Lancer.  Placing a motherly kiss on his forehead and smoothing the blond bangs back from the bandage she had put on his head wound she left the room for a few minutes to remove the dirty dishes and see if there was any sign of the men returning.

    About an hour later the men returned.  Murdoch and Johnny were with them.  As were three other men whom she correctly assumed to be Scott’s grandfather and the men responsible for Scott being in the condition he was in.  She heard her husband give their foreman orders to take the two younger men into the Sheriff’s office.
    “Maura how’s Scott?” Murdoch asked anxiously.

    “He’s asleep right now Murdoch.  Come with me and I’ll take you to him.”

    Murdoch, followed closely by Johnny and Harlan Garrett, followed Maura Talbot to the room where Scott lay sleeping.  The senior Lancer gently sat down on the side of the bed and reached out with his right hand to gently caress his son’s cheek.  Johnny, ignoring Harlan, pulled a chair up next to the bed.  His sapphire blue eyes dark with concern.  Scott was very pale.  He fought to keep his temper under control when he saw the bandage on Scott’s head and noted that his brother was not exactly sleeping peacefully.  His head kept turning this way and that and he was moaning and mumbling about helping his grandfather.

    “Scott,” Murdoch said softly.  “Wake up son.  It’s time to go home.”

    Scott’s eyes fluttered open slowly.  “Murdoch?”

    “Yes, son,” Murdoch answered him.

    “Is Grandfather all right?”

    “I’m fine Scotty,” Harlan answered him.

    “I’m sorry Grandfather.  I wanted to help…”

    “You weren’t in no condition to help anyone Scott,” Johnny scolded his brother.  “You needed help yourself.”

    “Johnny’s right Scott,” Murdoch told his oldest.  “You needed help.  I managed pretty well on my own until Johnny and the others arrived.”

    “Who shot me?”  Scott wanted to know.

    “The Deegan brothers,” Johnny told his brother with a black look at Harlan.  “They told us they wanted your grandfather’s money.  They also told us that he paid them to lie to you.”

    “About what?”

    “About the murder charge against me,” his father answered.  With a black look of his own toward his former father-in-law he added, “He conveniently forgot to tell you that I was cleared of that murder charge 25 years ago.”


    “I’m sorry Scotty.  I only wanted you to come back home to Boston where you belong.  Where your legacy is.”

    Scott turned his face away from his grandfather.   He didn’t want to hurt him but now that the truth was out he wanted to stay at Lancer.

    “No more talk,” Murdoch said firmly.  “Let’s get Scott home and into his own bed so he can rest.”

    The ride back to Lancer was rough even though the Talbots provided a spare mattress and pillow for Scott to lie on in the back of their wagon.  Once back home Scott was helped to his room by his brother and Jelly.  Murdoch was right behind them and helped Scott into a nightshirt.  Teresa inspected Mrs. Talbot’s bandaging job and declared it would be fine until the next morning.

    “It’s nasty looking but Mrs. Talbot did a good job.  I won’t have to do anything more to it,” Teresa told her anxious guardian.  “I’ll check it again tomorrow and change the dressing.”

    Over the next two days Scott spent a lot of time sleeping.  When he awoke either his father, brother or Teresa was there with him.  Harlan Garrett was admitted to the room only when Scott declared that he was ready to talk to him.  When he did Scott finally got his grandfather to understand, at least he hoped he had, that he wanted to stay at Lancer and would not be returning to Boston.

    Three days after the shooting Scott was well enough to be up and about as long as he didn’t overdo it.  That was the day his grandfather left for Boston.  Scott sat in the living room trying to be patient while Teresa changed the bandage on his head.  Johnny and Jelly were making them both laugh as they stood facing each other about four feet apart throwing grapes at each other and trying to get them in their mouths.  As Scott prepared to drive his grandfather to Morro Coyo to catch the stage he managed to please the old man by bending to pick up his luggage.  Harlan told his grandson that he was happy to see that Scott hadn’t forgotten his good manners.  Scott somewhat hesitantly told his grandfather that he’d try to get back to Boston to visit sometime.  No promises were made and no dates mentioned.

    It was a sadder and wiser young man that returned to his new home and his new found family later that day. The trip, short though it was, had been hard on Scott. Murdoch found his eldest sitting in a chair on the porch brooding an hour after he returned home.

    “Feeling all right son?” he asked.

    “Yes, sir,” Scott answered.

    “Something bothering you Scott?”

    Scott hesitated then asked his father, “Why did he do it Murdoch?  Why did he lie to me?”

    Hard as it was for Murdoch Lancer not to put his former father-in-law in a bad light he did an admirable job of trying to explain to his son his grandfather’s motive.

    “I guess because in his own way he loves you Scott.  You’re his only grandchild and he can’t let go of the ‘little boy’ he raised.”

    “But why lie to me?  Why not just come right out and tell me he misses me and wishes I’d come home?  Why couldn’t he have just accepted my decision to stay here with you and Johnny and Teresa and Jelly?”

    “Your grandfather is used to having his own way.  You crossed him when you came out here and he just couldn’t deal with it.  He wanted you back so badly that he’d do anything to get you to go back to Boston to live with him.”

    Scott fell silent.  It bothered him no end that his grandfather had acted the way he had.  He loved Harlan Garrett but he’d made himself at home at Lancer and wanted to stay.  Boston held no attraction for him any more.  A life of endless parties and business dinners paled in comparison to what he had there in California.

    The arrival of his younger brother with a double fistful of chocolate cake shook Scott from his reverie.  Normally Johnny with chocolate cake wouldn’t attract much more than a passing glance for if there was one food Johnny Lancer was fond of it was Teresa’s chocolate cake.  But this time Johnny was looking for all the world like a small boy as he approached his father and brother.  It seemed that Johnny had been a little greedy in taking a bite for he was wearing his cake all over his face.

    Scott couldn’t stay sober and serious with that sight confronting him.  He started to laugh and Murdoch joined him after a few seconds.  Johnny looked around to see what was making them laugh.  The puzzled look on his face made them laugh even harder.

    “What’s so funny?” he asked around a mouthful of cake.

    “You are little brother.  You are,” Scott said when he could catch his breath.
    Johnny pouted at that remark which only made his father and brother laugh all the harder.  Teresa came out of the house at that point and soon her girlish giggles joined the men’s laughter.

    “Johnny, you should see yourself,” she said.  “You’re covered with chocolate frosting and crumbs!  Just like a child!”

    “Huh?”  Johnny tried wiping the frosting off his face but only succeeded in smearing more.

    His family started laughing again and now Jelly came along wanting to know what was so funny.  When he got a look at Johnny’s face he joined them.

    “Take a look at yourself boy,” the old man said.  “You wear that cake mighty well.”

    Johnny went into the hallway in as dignified a manner as he could and looked in the mirror.  The sight he saw soon had him laughing as hard as the others.

    “Just goes to show you Teresa,” he said by way of excusing himself as he swallowed the last of the treat, “You make good cake.”

    Then without another word he walked over to the pump and proceeded to clean himself up while the others started laughing all over again.  The laughter was just what Scott needed to boost his flagging spirits and Murdoch was quietly pleased to see his oldest son acting and talking more cheerfully than he had in the last few days.  The scars left by his grandfather’s betrayal would always hurt but with the help of his family and Jelly, who was as good as family, he would learn to deal with them - especially if Teresa kept baking chocolate cakes.  After all, wasn’t laughter supposed to be the best medicine?



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