The Lancer Fanfiction Archive

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Olley

 

 

High Riders/Homecoming Missing Scenes

 

Land
Dios!!  The girl had stopped the wagon and there it was as far as I could see Lancer land.

I’ve hired out to men on both sides of the border who value land before people, I’m guessing Murdoch Lancer is no different to any of those.

This is my land I can feel it in my blood, it is my birthright. Murdoch Lancer and anyone else is in for a fight if they try to take this off me, coz I’m a gunfighter and am real good at that trade an’ I will fight for this land.

 

I don’t know what to think of you
I sto mped out’ta there my blood boiling. Why was I so hurt?

Never bothered me before, big shot ranchers ignoring my advice an’ I sure as hell didn’t follow orders barked at me.

“I don’t know what to think of you” course he knows, the Pinks would have told him of my life as Madrid.  What did he expect?

Still no good letting my temper take hold that was a lesson learnt the hard way it’s a sure quick way to getting hurt.

Cool down Madrid first take care of ol’e Day then take care of the ol’e man.

 

Before the signing 1.
Now he was back on his feet the boy went from advertising his presence with those spurs to drifting as silent as a ghost.

Scott and Teresa had informed me of Johnny’s reaction to being told of his mother running away with a gambler.  I needed to speak to him, what had he heard about me?

I found him behind the barn his back to me practising his draw, the colt leaping into his hand, the speed almost supernatural.

Without turning he drawled, “You a man of your word Lancer. You still gonna sign over my third?”

“Yes son.”

 

Before the signing 2.
“Yes son” It took my breath, this man a stranger my father acknowledging me as his son.

As a kid being called son an’ whole lot else had been used to insult me as a worthless mestizo. But those two words from him were different they reached into me.

I turned and looked him in the eye I could see nothing of me in him. Dios what had Mama seen in this cold hard gringo?

Lessons learnt in range wars taught me going into partnership a man should take precautions.  I mean to find out who this Murdoch Lancer is.

(March 2017)

 

After the signing 3 - Good at my Trade.
Ya see it’s all about getting folks to see what ya want them to see.

As Johnny Madrid pistollero they had to see a cool hombre. Ya know a bit cocky, not afraid to get called out to the dance.  I took pride in being good at that trade.

Taking pride in being Johnny Lancer the ol’e man’s son and Boston’s brother now that’s gonna be a whole different trade.

Yeah, I will show them I’m good at any trade I set my mind to.

(9th Sept. 2017  amended 1st Oct.2018)

 

A Change of Clothes
The revolution failed, hours then turned into days and weeks. The beatings and humiliations leaving me only my pride and hate.

A kick to my ribs woke me. “Today you die as the worthless mestizo you always were. Here are clothes more suited to you.”

White pants and shirt were flung at me. It had been in the orphanage I had been made to wear peasant clothes, I hated them.

The memory of Mama embroidering my shirts with her fine needlework and telling me I am her handsome young vaquero comforts me as I am paraded through the village and thrown into the wagon.

Execution awaits.

 

Socks
“First thing after I get off this stage is to take off my boots an’ socks then soak my feet.” A grin crept across his face at the thought.

“Nope first get my gun back, then see to my feet.  Walking with the saddle on my shoulder was hard enough without these old socks curling up inside my boots.”

Johnny glanced at the fancy dan’s feet. “Whooe under the dust his shoes look expensive, bet his socks don’t rumple up, bet he has clean feet to put in ‘em as well.”

He closed his eyes as the stage rocked along the Morro Coyo road mentally making a list. “Need a good horse, need some good grub and a drink to wash it down. Need some pretty company. Need some nice new white socks.”

A sigh escaped. “Need to meet Murdoch Lancer.”

 

Shirts
The Nino’s shirt is a washed out red, and now it is smudged and smelling of smoke, but so thin I can see where it has been ripped and then repaired.  Foolish boy wanted to keep it on saying it would be fine just sponged down, for me not to fuss.

Ai Ai what pride. I found him a clean white shirt that fits him. He smiled and said gracias when he saw my fine embroidery, running those long fingers of his over the stitches.

In it, he will look like the son of the Patron.

 

Hats
First time I saw him was on the stage, all fancied up wearing a hat that wouldn’t keep the sun out’ta your eyes, sort of hat I recall the Pink was wearing when I got lucky.

Then the first morning I went visiting him in his room, dios what a joke that hat with a feather was; even I couldn’t make it look good!  I found myself thinking it would be enough to cause a stampede if the beeves caught sight of it. 

Teresa was right saying what she did, she better make sure he gets a decent hat.

 

 

 

 

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