Spilling Words
This was written for the Johnny challenge on the Yahoo group Lancer_Writers. The challenge was to write a light story, up to 2,000 words, in which Johnny is not injured or sick.
***
"No," Johnny's voice said flatly. "Forget it."
Scott paused outside the door, sighing. His brother had only left the barn five minutes ago. Surely he and Murdoch hadn't already started fighting.
"I won't!" Johnny said. A door slammed inside the house.
Scott considered going back to the barn and riding into town for supper. He was so tired of trying to make peace between his father and his younger brother. Just once, he'd like to sit down to a peaceful meal that didn't end with Murdoch bellowing and Johnny stalking out.
"What are you doing, standing outside the door?" Murdoch asked curiously. "Did you and Johnny just get back?"
Scott turned around, surprised. His father crossed the terrace and opened the door. He was wearing a jacket and tie.
"You'd better get a move on, Scott," Murdoch recommended. "The Harpers are going to be here soon. Where's Johnny?"
Light dawned on Scott. Teresa had mentioned to him that she'd invited the new minister to dinner. She'd also made him promise not to tell Johnny, figuring correctly that Johnny would find an excuse to disappear if he knew in advance. Johnny hated company dinners.
Sure enough, he found his foster sister breathing fire as she finished setting the table with their best china.
"Scott!" she said. "You have to go talk some sense into Johnny."
"Not to worry," Scott said. "We'll both be down in 20 minutes."
"Bathed, shaved and wearing a tie," Teresa stipulated.
"Wearing a tie," Scott agreed recklessly.
"I suppose it's too late for him to get a haircut," she said. "Although I could trim it a little."
"Teresa, I can't perform miracles in 20 minutes," Scott said, heading up the stairs. "Don't push your luck."
Twenty-five minutes later, both young men appeared on the stairs, Scott in a suit and Johnny in dark trousers, the freshly ironed white shirt Teresa had left for him and a string tie. The minister, his daughter and sister-in-law had just arrived.
"You've met Scott," Murdoch said. "This is my younger son, John. Reverend Harper, his sister-in-law, Mrs. Harper, and his daughter, Molly."
The female Harpers both looked at Johnny curiously. They'd heard a lot about him, even if they'd never seen him in church. He was a favorite topic for the members of the sewing circle.
"How do you do, John," Reverend Harper said kindly. Johnny nodded at them, and Scott nudged him.
"Pleased to meet you all," he drawled and gave his brother a pained look.
"We're sorry that we haven't seen you in church, young man," Mrs. Harper said, fairly bristling with disapproval.
For once, Molly Harper agreed with her Aunt Jerusha's words, if not with her tone. She couldn't decide which of the two brothers was more attractive, the blond, well-tailored Bostonian or the dark-haired, casual gunfighter. She gave them both a warm smile.
Johnny fidgeted restlessly at the table. He wasn't eating much and he was saying even less. Scott would have sworn that Mrs. Harper hadn't stopped talking long enough to take a bite, but she managed to clear her plate anyway. She was a plain woman, with a round, freckled face and a bulldog expression. And she had an opinion on everything, from the shortcomings of the church members, individually and collectively, to the wicked, lawless state of the town.
"Open cussing on the street," she said, cataloguing the town's shortcomings. "It's sinful, and I told that so-called sheriff so to his face. And the drinking that goes on in the saloons!"
Johnny's eyes went involuntarily to her wine glass. He picked up his own glass of milk and took a sip.
"Church attendance is simply scandalous," Mrs. Harper said. She focused her attention on the younger Lancer son. "John, I've yet to see you appear at Sunday service with your family. You have been saved, haven't you?"
Johnny looked over at his brother plaintively, but Scott ignored the open appeal in the vivid blue eyes. He was sorry when the corner of Johnny's mouth turned up.
"Lots of times," Johnny drawled. "Doc Jenkins patched me up just last month when I caught a bullet."
Molly Harper giggled.
Her aunt frowned. "That's not what I meant, John," she said. "Of course, from what I understand, you haven't had the benefit of a proper upbringing, like your brother."
"Nope," Johnny agreed softly. "Ain't nothing proper about me, ma'am."
"Young man, you do not appear to be taking our conversation seriously," she said sternly.
Johnny pushed his food around on his plate, and looked at Scott again. This time, Scott stepped in. "More wine, Mrs. Harper?" he asked politely, noticing that her glass was empty again.
She recoiled. "Wine? It's not grape punch?"
"It's grape with a punch," Johnny said softly.
Scott's shoulders shook. He choked, trying to hold in his laughter. To his horror, he lost his grip on the decanter he was holding and it spilled into Mrs. Harper's lap. She screamed and pulled away from the table. Her bracelet caught in the tablecloth and china and crystal crashed to the floor.
"Damn it all to hell!" she bellowed, staring at the fragrant red stain that ran down the front of her best dress.
Fifteen minutes later, the Harpers had departed. Molly fixed her big hazel eyes on the younger Lancer son and invited him to the Sunday school picnic. Her aunt glared furiously at her, but her father beamed at them all vaguely, his mind still on the books that he and Murdoch had been discussing.
Teresa slammed the front door behind them. Maria was already sweeping up the mess of splintered glass and china on the floor.
"Don't you dare say one word, Johnny," Teresa said. "Or you, Scott!"
"Honey," Murdoch started, and stopped. He looked at his two sons, and his shoulders started to shake too. "I'm sorry, honey," he managed to say before all three of the Lancer men collapsed into helpless laughter.
Scott recovered first, and strolled over to the cabinet to pour drinks. Johnny tugged at his tie and pulled it off, settling into his favorite place on the rug in front of the fire. Scott settled into a chair.
"You going to that picnic, Johnny?" he asked.
"Hell, no," Johnny said.
Murdoch looked at him. "Language, Johnny," he said, but his tone was mild and he started to chuckle again, to his sons' amazement.
Johnny grinned, the contagious smile that lit up his whole face and made him look years younger.
"What are you thinking?" Scott asked.
"Reckon you all have reason to give thanks on Sunday," Johnny said.
"Lots of reasons, son," Murdoch said softly. "Which one do you have in mind?"
"You don't have a sister-in-law," Johnny said simply.
"Amen," Teresa agreed, smiling at all of them from the doorway. "Does anyone want dessert?"
THE END
Whistle, June 2004