Stunt Gone Wrong
by  EJ


November Challenge-Prompt One  

Elin, November 2015


L * A * N * C * E * R



Scott stared at Johnny in disbelief over the feat he’d just witnessed.  Johnny stared back, his expression equally stunned.

“Do you need a drink?” Scott asked.

“Yeah,” Johnny said.  “Maybe a few.”


L * A * N * C * E * R

“Me too, and if you ever do that again…” Scott took a deep breath and wiped his hand across his sweaty forehead. “Do you realize how frightened I was for you?”

“Hey, I knew what I was doing.” Johnny smirked but inside he was still shaking. The stunt hadn’t worked as he had planned and he might not have walked away this time.

“You actually think I believe you?” Big brother’s frown and clenched fists said it all.

Johnny bowed his head, “Sorry Scott.” He really meant it; he would never do anything to upset his brother. But he needed to get away and try to calm down without big brother nagging him.

“Sorry, that’s it?” Not ready to let Johnny off the hook and angry at the familiar bowed head, he stepped in front of his brother, “Well, let me tell you how sorry you will be if you…” he poked Johnny in the chest, “ever…” another poke, “do that again.” The last poke firm was enough to make, an angry Johnny take a step backwards.

Madrid struck like a snake and grabbed Scott’s wrist, “Don’t.” 

Caught off guard, Scott wisely didn’t try to pull away, not from Madrid. “I’m sorry Johnny, I… I was afraid I was going to lose you. That was such a dangerous stunt.” Cautiously waiting and holding his breath, he hoped Johnny Lancer would come back into the conversation.

Finally after a few tense moments Johnny shook his head and released Scott’s wrist. As he stormed off toward the barn, Madrid warned over his shoulder, “Don’t follow me.”

Scott, still unnerved by how fast Madrid had emerged, stared at the retreating man’s back. Did he go after Madrid and risk being shot? Taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders, he’d be damned if Johnny was going to take off. No, not this time, a determined Lt. Lancer was going to take on Madrid.

With a ramrod straight back, Lt. Lancer marched to the barn and threw open the door with so much force it banged against the wall. Standing in the doorway he announced, “Now wait just a minute, I’m not going to stand back and let you ride off-” He stopped when he saw a gun pointed at his chest. “So, do you plan on shooting me?” Hands on his hips the lieutenant matched glares with Madrid, “Well, make up your mind.”

Johnny had reacted without thinking and drawing his gun was ingrained at any hint of danger. Madrid lowered his gun, “Look, I just need to get away…” The stupid stunt still had him on edge and he wasn’t thinking clearly or he would never have drawn on his brother. Johnny Lancer was working his way back.

Relieved that he could see Madrid fading away, Scott made his move. “That may be but you are not running out on me.” He moved over to Ulysses’ stall and began saddling his horse. “We both need to get away and talk about what happened.” He hide his smile when he saw Johnny’s shocked face. “Well, are you going to saddle Barranca?”


L * A * N * C * E * R

Murdoch watched from the big window in the Great Room; Johnny’s stunt had nearly given him a heart attack. When was that boy going to grow up? However his younger son seemed unhurt so he calmed his emotions and his anger. But just when all seemed okay he witnessed what appeared to be an altercation between his sons. Tempted as he was to get between them; he wisely he decided it would be better if he stayed out of it. Then his younger son stalked off to the barn he knew Johnny would be taking off, again. Murdoch shook his head and wondered, why does he always feel he has to run away? 

Then he grinned when he saw Scott march into the barn, he knew by his older son’s expression, Johnny was going to get a piece of big brother’s temper. They will either make up or come to blows so he waited to see what would happen next.

After a few minutes the brothers left the barn and rode toward the Lancer Arch, a relieved father knew his sons would work it out. Smiling, he turned from the window and went to the drinks cart and poured a scotch.

He raised his glass in a toast, “To my sons and how they make my life interesting.”


The End

L * A * N * C * E * R




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