Winter Reflections 2009
by  d. b. brisbin


Winter Reflections

Johnny relaxed back on the sofa, a glass of the ‘Old Man’s’ scotch in his hand. He was as relaxed as he had ever been in his life. He was ‘home’ at last at Lancer. A blazing fire in the fireplace to rival the raging wind and snow outside, he surveyed the room, reminiscing that once in his miserable childhood that he had only wanted the love of a father. Now, he had that. In fact, he had doubled it, as he had the love of both of his fathers now, and they were sitting across from each other with a chess board between them, along with their own glasses of scotch. "Check ya there, Murdoch" Val Crawford remarked quietly. –d.b.brisbin

Peace On Earth

He didn’t have any family to speak of, yet here he was spending Christmas with the only one he did consider his family, Johnny. Through the years, destiny had seen that their lives were entwined at various points in each of their lives. Now, it seemed they were finally together forever. Invited to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas day with the Lancer family, Val Crawford had left the comfortable bed upstairs to slip downstairs and reflect upon his good fortune by the great room fireplace with a glass of Johnny’s blood father’s Talisker’s. There was no greater feeling than knowing his ‘son’ was upstairs sleeping, knowing that he was safe, protected by his two fathers. Good thing Murdoch didn’t know that Johnny wasn’t the only thing that they had shared. Maria sure had been a piece of work. –d.b.brisbin

Goodwill Towards Men

Standing in the moonlit cold of his bedroom balcony, Murdoch sipped his scotch and stared at the full moon, millions of stars, and sighed. He was content. He finally had both of his sons home and they were spending Christmas together. In addition, they had an overnight guest, Sheriff Val Crawford. While both he and his older son Scott both respected and shared friendship with Crawford, they were grateful and aware of the special relationship that Crawford and the youngest Lancer, Johnny shared from Johnny’s ‘Madrid’ days as a gunfighter. Holding his scotch to the heavens, Murdoch toasted Crawford, ‘thank you Val for looking after my son, then and now.’ –d.b.brisbin






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