Yup, I'm still alive:) Thanks to this rainy May long weekend, I was able to at long last get some writing done. Don't y'all faint now:):) It's been a very long time, I know...But here we go, on to more Walt:). Hope I haven't gotten rusty with all the down time. I trust you readers will let me know if this is true:)

Update - my house sold! So busy packing up and looking for another place to live, but once I find it, I'll be back to seriously writing!:) Stay tuned, PLEASE!:)

Chapter 11

How many times over the years had I passed through these doors? If I even tried to count them, I'd be feeling my age – and I was already painfully reminded of it this not so fine morning. The booze-induced hangover was pretty well working itself out, but the emotional hangover just kept giving and giving.

Anger, happiness, frustration and desire all kind of tangled up with each other and even though I would've eventually made my way here sometime today to shoot the shit and toast the New Year, this time, I was on a bit of a mission.

"Happy New Year, Walt!"

I stopped short, startled out of my own little world. Apparently, it was a rather self-absorbed mission.

"Uh…"

I had to search for her name, that's how bad I was! I'd known this woman a good long time, had met her babies and watched them grow up – just one more reminder of how fast and far the years had gone by.

"Jenny…"

"As ever!" she replied, looking a little worried. "You okay, Sheriff? For a minute there, I thought you were just gonna pass me by without saying howdy."

"Well, I, uh, was – "

"Heard you were out to the Pony last night," she said softly, leaning in close to me and winking.

I felt colour fill my face but hoped it didn't show. Just what and how much had she heard? I took a breath and put on my hard-ass face. She put a hand on my arm and said even softer,

"Even the Sheriff gets to tip a few on New Year's, Walt. No shame in that. Just had to give you a hard time, is all."

I searched her face for any sign of smugness. For any hint that she was actually saying more than what she'd said.

"Lighten up, for cryin' out loud," she laughed. "It's not like I heard you were swingin' from the rafters or any some such!"

I exhaled. She was not withholding. I smiled.

"Had to stop by and make sure things were in hand," I laughed. "Speaking of which….Is he awake?" and I nodded down the hallway.

"I'm pretty sure that old son hasn't even gone to bed yet," Jenny said with a roll of her eyes before bringing them to bear on my gunbelt.

"You're armed so that qualifies you to go see for yourself. Me? I'm just gonna mind my own business and move on over behind that desk where things should be safe."

As she moved to do just that, I called out after her.

"Happy New Year, Jenny," and I was hoping she'd at least get the benefit of that statement.

In last night's context, those same words, spoken to me by Vic in that sultry, sexy voice of hers had made me believe it would be a wonderfully happy new year, but those same words, thrown at me with a 'fucking' in there for good measure and a heaping dose of anger and sarcasm made last night seem like nothing more than one of my fantasies about her.

Damn, how the hell had things gone so wrong? I knew how…but I still didn't understand it. I still felt angry when I thought of her telling me that what happened between us wasn't any big deal – and I still found myself wanting her all over again in spite of me saying I wouldn't go there until she basically came to her senses about us.

Chock, chock, chock down the hallway I went. I knew the way by heart. I could've done it blindfolded. Just as I reached my destination, I felt an insane urge to just turn around and walk away. What the hell was I doing? Was I really here to talk? Me?

Before I could change my mind I knocked on the door.

"Why the hell don't you just quit your fool knockin' and come on in, the way you people always do? It don't seem to matter that I paid good money for this place. Apparently, money doesn't buy privacy around here!"

I started to announce myself then stopped abruptly after 'it's'. Did I really want to go through with this? Well, that greeting had brought a slight tug to my lips. Almost felt like I might just smile and that was something considering the way this day was going. What the hell…

"It's me," I stated, committing myself to this course of action.

"Well, 'me'….you know how to work a doorknob, dontcha?"

I most certainly did and I turned the doorknob and entered the room. You think I would have felt my control of the situation slipping away – or more likely 'running' away, but I didn't.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

"So…I hear you and that Playboy bunny deputy of yours were knockin' boots last night…"

Bad enough that he actually said it, but did he have to look so lecherous about it? Somehow, he knew. It shouldn't have surprised me, but it did. I should've just stayed home and gone back to bed…

"How was she, Walt? Feisty, I bet!" and that set him to laughing, but I knew he seriously wanted to know. Oh, God..

"Guess I don't know you as well as I thought I did, Lucian. Never took you for one to put much stock in…heresay," I managed to say calmly, doing my best to remain expressionless.

Despite my efforts, I felt his eyes boring in to mine and heat crept up my neck. I decided to study the chessboard between us. He decided to lean back and smirk at me. I felt it.

"There's eye witnesses to you swappin' spit with Miss November, Walt…"

"Inebriated eyewitnesses. Not reliable sources, pal," I replied. Then it hit me what he'd called Vic.

"How the hell do you know Vic's born in November?" That last part honestly surprised me.

Sure, I wanted to talk, but not quite like or about this! I hadn't expected him to know what he knew, not being here in this 'retirement facility' as he liked to call it. The rest of us called it an 'old folks home' and Lucian Connally was definitely one of those type of 'folk'.

I'd come to his room to find him all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed which was not his usual affectation most times. That should've been a give-away right there, but I wasn't my usual straight-thinkin' self this morning, so there was that…

Besides wanting to talk to him on this not so fine morning, it was our habit since Martha's death to get together on New Year's day, play the ever on-going game of chess and toast the possibilities of yet another year under the sun. I'd forgotten all about our arrangement back at the cabin. I'd had other things on my mind when the idea of coming to see Lucian popped in to my head. I could still back out of this…

When I walked in, I expected him to give me the gears about being late because I was, but he'd only raised his eyebrows at me, gave me a shit-eating grin and proceeded to set up the game after pouring us each a shot of whiskey from his private reserve. Now, here we were, not even to the toasting part and Lucian was directing the conversation. Yeah, I really should've just stayed home…

"I snooped through her file when you were out one day, Walt. What can I say? That little firecracker sparked my interest the minute I laid eyes on her!"

I let out an exasperated sigh and raised my head to glare at him. He winked.

"Do the words 'personal' and 'confidential' mean anything to you?" I asked him.

"Only in dirty contexts. Ahh, hell, Walt! You know when somethin' tickles my fancy I'm gonna want to scratch it. I would've found out eventually. It was just easier to take a peek at her considerable dossier. I ain't a young man anymore. Don't have time to pussy-foot around," and he was throwing out double entendres like the sky was spitting out snow.

Why the hell did I put up with this guy?

I guess because he put up with me.

Thirty-seven years ago, Lucian Connally, the then Sheriff of Absaroka County, had given me a choice - work for him or get hauled off to a detention home.

Sitting across from him now, watching him waggle his eyebrows at me like the borderline miscreant and just plain dirty old man he truly was, I couldn't help but wonder if the 'home' might not have been the wiser of the two. Just goes to show that at seventeen, I might not have been making the brightest choices of my life. Finding myself here at fifty-four only proved that I still had a long way to go when it came to making the best decisions…

"C'mon, Walt! Like the kids nowadays say, give me the deets!"

He rested his forearms on the table between us and leaned in close.

"I'm bettin' she was hotter than the pavement in July. Did she jump your beat-up old bones the minute you got to that middle of nowhere cabin of yours? Did you -? I mean, I know it's been a while, Walt. Not since that Ambrose woman. Yeah, she was a looker, but Miss Vickie, she's got the fire! Nothin' like a sassy woman to rile up a man's sap, even yours!"

"You're barkin' up the wrong tree, Lucian," I warned him, keeping a stony face. Where the hell did this guy get his intel from? Henry came to mind, but no, Lucian and Henry would never be confidantes. No how, no way!

"Hell, son, you look like someone pissed on your tree! I know what I know and 'how' ain't none of your beeswax! Save that 'go fuck yourself' expression for one of your no-goods. You and the Philly Flyer swapped spit among other bodily fluids and quite frankly, I never expected to see you here today, but in ya come and I'm expecting to see…I don't know, some life? Some damn joy on your face? A spring in your step? Hell, I might've settled for a smile at the least, but oh no! Just what the hell is the matter with you, Walt? You just engaged in the horizontal mamba with the only woman around these parts that I ever thought was any good for you and you're gonna act like nothing happened? Good God Almighty, boy!" and at long last, he stopped talking, threw his hands up in the air, leaned back in his chair and just looked at me. He was expecting me to respond to his tirade.

I got up. Pushed my chair back. Reached for my hat.

"I don't know why I ever thought I could come here and talk to you,' I said softly while I adjusted my hat on my head. "If you really want the 'deets', maybe it's best if you go see Vic. It's all about the sex, right?"

I slipped on my coat and without looking at Lucian, made my way to the door. Silence followed me. I grabbed the doorknob and turned it.

"Wait a sec, Walt…"

His quiet tone kept me from opening the door but I kept my back to him. I knew Lucian. I knew what he was like. I shouldn't have been reacting to him the way I was, but while I might've seen the humour in my situation if the outcome and been different, I just wasn't in the mood for his style.

I meant to come here, maybe try talking to him about Vic, my feelings for her – he was the closest thing to a father I had, and it was thanks to my father that I'd ever crossed personal lines with Lucian in the first place. He was older and I'd been hoping 'wiser.' He knew me in ways that Henry didn't. He'd been with me when…

"Son, come sit back down."

"I gotta go," I mumbled.

"Walt…when your daddy turned you over to me, I swore to your mama that I'd take care of you. That day, on the highway, I swore to your daddy that I'd keep an eye on you for him. If there is an after-life, they're lookin' down on us now and seein' that I'm not keepin' to my word."

"I don't want to talk about any of that, Lucian," and I didn't. There were places inside of me that still hurt when it came to my parents and my father in particular.

"That's fine. For now. I understand, but you came here wantin' to talk about somethin' and I just got carried away. I've been rootin' for you and Miss Vickie for some time now, hopin' you two would finally see the light and take ahold of each other. That you're here should've told me something, but I thought you were being all honourable on me, comin' for New Year just because you always do. C'mon, son…sit back down and tell me what you want to tell me."

I stood there for a moment longer. Did I really need to do this? I could just go home. Stare at the phone. Think about calling Vic. Maybe go seek her out if she wasn't taking my calls. Go to her….and then what? If she put her arms around me, kissed me, I'd be a goner. She'd make her point, we'd have more of that fantastic sex and I'd be left where I was right now; wanting more from her and never knowing if I'd have it.

I sat down. Took off my hat but kept my coat on. I wasn't ready to get too comfortable. Lucian just looked at me, waiting. I held out as long as I could, then I caved.

"I love her…"

"I'm not doubting you one bit son, but what do you know about love, Walt?"

"In case you've gotten that senile, Lucian, I was married."

"Yup, I seem to recall that, but again, what do you know about love?"

"Me, Martha, Cady…"

Lucian smiled a little.

"You've got this whole damn town fooled, Walt, but now who's gone senile? I was there. I know the story about you and Martha. It wasn't about love and it didn't have a happy ending."

I looked hard at him.

"No one knows that story except me, my parents, her parents, Henry and Barlow. There's only the two of us left alive…" and again I wondered if Henry and Lucian were more than I could ever believe they were.

"Don't you be thinkin' me and Fancy Underpants are in cahoots, Walt. Let's just say we're still carryin' on that healthy distrust of each other. Suits us both just fine, I do believe."

"I know you and Barlow were never close and as for my dad…He might've been your friend, but he wouldn't have said anything, even to you. He was a man of honour," and I couldn't quite say that last bit without sounding angry.

"I didn't hear anything from anybody, Walt. You were working for me then and I did possess some damn fine observational skills way back when, if I do say so myself."

"Then what did you observe, Lucian?"

"Why don't we start at the beginning, Walt?"

Before I could stop him, he was leaning back in his chair, reminiscing.

"Your daddy, he was one of my closest friends. We grew up together. He met your ma, married her and along you came. I'd met you a time or two when you were just a sprout. I recall you being a bit on the 'outgoing' side, believe it or not. Full of life and curious about everything. You were the apple of your mama's eye and she loved you with all she had, son."

"I know that, Lucian."

"I'm sure you do, Walt. She was a fine woman, that mother of yours…" and a soft smile curved his lips while he drifted off in to yesterday.

"Did you -?"

"No, no! I merely worshipped her from afar. Her place was with your daddy and he was my friend. A good friend, too!"

I must've made some kind of sound, something that sounded disdainful because Lucian leaned forward and put on of his hands over mine where it rested on the table.

"Your dad loved you, too, Walt."

I snatched my hand away and ran it through my hair.

"This is not what I want to talk about!"

"You came here to talk about love, didn't you?"

"My love, for Vic! Not fairy-tales, Lucian."

"And you think you know what's best for her, don't you? Tell me what happened, Walt and then I'll tell you a thing or two."

"I'm suddenly feeling like pleading the fifth."

"I won't push you for the 'deets'. Just the facts, you scaredy-cat!"

"I'm not scared, Lucian…"

"And you're not a good liar, either, Walt. Fess up, now."

"Alright…"Might just as well.

I stood up, slipped my coat off and began to pace.

"Vic and I, we had to take a prisoner up to Bozeman yesterday. Long ride. She fell asleep on the way home. She wound up snuggled against me and it just hit me. I love her. Have for a long time and I wanted to tell her, but things just kept getting in the way. We ended up at the Pony, one thing led to another and by the end of the night, I was kissing her and things got a…uh, a little heated between us. We went back to the cabin and…well…."

"All-nighter?" Lucian asked just a little too enthusiastically.

"Let's just say I haven't really slept yet."

"And the problem is?"

"I nodded off at some point and when I woke up, Vic was watching me. Right there in my bedroom where I'd dreamed about seeing her so many times…"

"This just keeps getting' better and better," Lucian laughed.

"And then I remembered Horse. I jumped out of bed, ran to take care of him and when I came back inside, things just seemed…different. I can't explain it. There she was, making me breakfast. Wearing my shirt – "

"You're killin' me here, Walt – "

" – and she looked so right there. It all felt so right. I went to her, she took me in, but then she pushed me away. Made light of it. Told me I was cold from being outside and to go have a shower."

"Okay, a mite disappointing, but hardly tragic."

"Something wasn't right, Lucian. I had that shower, thought about it all. Remembered telling her at some point that I loved her – "

"Tell me she was nekked when you said that!"

"- but she never said it back to me. I tried to say it again when I came in and that's when she told me to go shower."

Strange how once I'd started, I couldn't seem to keep the words from coming out. I hardly noticed Lucian's interruptions now.

"I'm thinkin' she might've been a little 'busy' the first time you said it and that maybe the next time, you might've had a bit of horse aroma about you…Not exactly romantic, Walt."

"Something changed, Lucian. Something made her different and when I came out of the shower, I decide to confront her about it."

"Oh, no…"

"Yeah, it didn't go over very well. We fought. I gave her an ultimatum and she chose leaving over taking me up on it."

"And just what was your ultimatum, Walt?"

"Love me or leave me, basically."

"Sit down, son. You're making me dizzy."

I did as he asked and he pushed the shot of whiskey my way.

"Tip'er back, boy."

I did. He did. I almost gagged. He gave a sigh of satisfaction

"I suppose if I ask, you ain't gonna tell me any more of the sex parts, are you?"

My hard look was his answer. It was his turn to sigh.

"Alright then, tell me about the fight. Why'd you feel that you had to give her an ultimatum."

"I came right out and told her I loved her. That started it. She told me I was making too much out of it. She admitted the sex was 'mind-blowing' to quote her – "

"Mind-blowing! Oh, Lord! And was it?"

"It was and then some. Like nothing I've ever experienced." I couldn't help throwing that in even though I hadn't meant to. It was the truth, but I did it mostly just to get Lucian's goat.

"What a shame to waste that on a prude like you, Walt," Lucian muttered under his breath. I glared at him.

"I've been around a bit, old man," I reminded him.

"I've probably seen more action lately than you have in your entire life, Walt, although I wouldn't call any of it particularly 'mind-blowing'. Lucky bastard!"

I glared at him.

"Okay, so she blew your mind, among other things, no doubt…" and he affected an air of innocence, a sort of 'did I say that?'

"What's so bad about that?" he asked.

"I…." I spread my hands. "I didn't want it to be just about sex. Not with Vic. When I saw her in the kitchen, at home in my place, that's what I wanted. To have her there every morning. To wake up to her, go to sleep with her."

"Have sex with her whenever the mood strikes?"

No winning with this guy!

"Yeah, sure! But you're not listening to what I'm saying, you dirty old man."

"And you're skippin' over all the good parts I want to be listening to, Walt."

"I'm gonna get up and leave for good this time if you don't knock it off.! I'm serious, Lucian!"

"I know you are, Walt. Go on, tell me about the fight. I'll keep my yap shut."

"I told her I loved her. She told me to lighten up and just enjoy what we'd had. Denied that there was any love involved. But Lucian, she was jealous about Lizzie and Martha! If she didn't care, why should that bother her?"

"Women are complicated creatures, Walt. Heavenly, but complicated. You told her the story with Lizzie, right? And what about Martha? I'm sure if Vic knew what that was all about – "

"I can't tell her! I won't tell her if it's just gonna be sex between us."

"Maybe that's all it ever will be unless you do tell her, Walt. Ever think of that? I'm sure Vic's been here long enough now to have heard all about 'the greatest love story ever told'."

"I loved Martha, Lucian."

"After a fashion and towards the end, I'm sure you did, Walt…but that wasn't how it was in the beginning. I'm sure Miss Vickie's goin' around thinkin' Martha was the love of your life, so what do you expect from her? You say you love her and think she's not gonna wonder?"

"You don't know what you're talking about! I married her. She was my wife for almost thirty years."

"Tell me then why I never saw you in love, Walt? I saw you giving up your dreams, hardening yourself, working yourself to death, carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, but I never saw you being in love. The closest I ever saw you to that was the day Cady was born, although there was a heapin' helpin' of relief mixed up with that love. I know what happened, Walt."

"Maybe you do. Maybe you know part of it, Lucian, but I am not going to talk about it with you…or anyone else!"

"Suit yourself, Walt, but if I were you, I'd reconsider that where Vic's concerned."

"She either loves me or she doesn't. My telling her about Martha shouldn't have any bearing on that."

"Y'know, you surely do remind me of this fellow I used to know. Guarded, stubborn as a mule. He came to me once, lookin' for some advice in matters of the heart and he wouldn't listen to me anymore than you are now."

"Maybe he figured it all out on his own."

"Don't reckon so. The proof of his failure is lookin' me square in the face."

It took me a moment to get that one, but when I did, I felt myself closing up like a clam.

"I'm not talking to you about my dad."

"I'm not askin' you to, Walt. I just want you to get settled and listen to the ramblings of an old man. Might be that somewhere along the way, the things I tell you about then might have some bearing on the situation you find yourself in now."

I went to move. Lucian quickly placed his hand on mine.

"Don't, Walt. You're not the only one sittin' on some truths for someone else. I made some promises to your daddy, only one of which was to keep an eye on you. The others? Well, you need to hear all the things he could never come out and say to you."

I wanted to leave. Boy, did I ever, but the pleading look in Lucian's eyes made me stay in my seat. Both my parents had been invading my thoughts of late, my dad in particular. Was there a reason for it?

"I'm only about to break his silence because….because I stood with you on that highway that day, Walt. I watched you watching them burn up and I saw a good part of you die that day."

Lucian was close to tears and looking all his years. He gripped my hand tight. His was shaking.

"If I would've known it was your folks, Walt, I never, ever would've sent you out there. I should've known! I should've been the one first on the scene, but I wasn't…and I've never forgiven myself for what happened that day."

"It wasn't your fault, Lucian." I could barely get the words out.

"I don't know about that…but Walt…I have loved you like a son almost since the day your daddy dragged you in to my office, wanting me to arrest you. That day on the highway, I loved you more because you did what you had to do and then you came back and carried on. I loved you because I loved your daddy like he was my brother."

Lucian paused only long enough to wipe at his eyes.

"We both lost a piece of ourselves out there, but you? It changed you, the way Death changed your dad long before you were born. He was a good man, Walt, like you, but he had his demons. We never talked much about them, but we should've. He never talked much about you, either, until that day. He sat in my office while you waited outside and told me everything!"

"It couldn't have been much of a conversation," I said, trying to lighten the mood a bit, but there was bitter truth in those words.

There'd never been much between my dad and myself, therefore, not much to talk about. As for facing Death, yeah, sure, my dad had served his time in 'the War'. I could see how that would change a person. I'd faced my own share of death, but warfare was unimaginable.

If Lucian was trying to make me forgive my dad, he was wasting his time, though. I was his only son and he should've loved me! He'd told me he did just before he died, but he was also talking a lot of other things that made no sense. To me, the death-bed declaration didn't count.

"Do you remember that day you and I were introduced, Walt?"

Lucian's grip had loosened on my hand and he seemed under control again. I wondered for a moment if he'd been up to some serious drinking before I showed up. I'd never seen him lose control before, except briefly, out on that highway, but I barely remembered him in all of that.

"Kinda hard to forget when your own father drags you down to the cop-shop!" I answered, going for that forced levity again. Lucian wasn't buying it.

"You still resent him for that, don't you?"

I shrugged.

"Does it matter? I didn't come here for this, y'know."

"You came here to talk about matters of the heart, Walt, but the thing is, our hearts get all tangled up with other hearts and more times than not, that leads to one bloody mess all around."

It was hard to disagree with that so I didn't bother even trying to. It was obvious Lucian wanted to talk about all this. I owed him at least the semblance of listening. I owed him so much more than that…

"I do remember that day," I said seriously, giving his hand a quick pat. I refilled his whisky glass along with my own, "and because you keep steering the conversation in that direction, I'll stop fighting you on it."

That was as close as I was going to get to admitting that I loved the old pain in my ass.

I saluted him with my glass and downed it all at once.

"I know you think you're only humouring an old man, Walt, but diggin' up one truth might just lead to diggin' up others. You think Vickie's lyin' about the way she feels t'wards you and maybe you're right. Maybe she's got her own issues to deal with, just like you have yours. Hell, maybe this ain't even about you! Maybe this old man is just feeling the weight of time on his hunched shoulders. Maybe it's about makin' this new year an actual happy one, despite the way it's startin' off. Or maybe me and you are just gonna get shit-faced and forget this ever happened! Just, c'mon, keep humouring me. Tell me what you remember about that day," and he returned my salute.

"I'm thinkin' there's enough whiskey here to make it bearable," I muttered.

"That's the spirit, Walt!"

I refilled my glass, then his and sat back, signaling my surrender. I took a deep breath, wondering idly what the hell I was about to get myself in to and then proceeded to getting on with it. As I recalled, it went something like this…

XXXXXXXXXXXX

I only just got the car in Park when the back door flew open and my dad came storming across the yard, my mom not far behind him. I hadn't quite forseen him being awake this early. It appeared I'd be shovelling manure a lot sooner than I'd anticipated.

I took the keys out of the ignition and opened the door, wearily resigned to my fate, but before I could get myself out, my dad was right there, pushing me back in.

"Slide your ass on over there, Walt, and give me the damn keys," he ordered.

He didn't yell at me the way he had when he'd caught me drinking. Instead, he was curt about it…and dangerously quiet. I'd expected trouble, but by the tone of his voice, this was trouble with a capital 'T'. The quieter my dad got, the more shit was about to hit the fan.

"Dad, I just –".

"Shut up, Walter! I don't wanna hear one damn word out of you!" He snatched the keys from my hand and pushed me over by climbing in behind the wheel.

"You wanna go for a joy-ride, I'll take you for a joy-ride! Think you can just take my car, stay out all night and then just sneak back in like everything's fine? Not this time, son!"

He jammed the keys in the ignition, cranked the motor and slammed his foot down on the gas. That's when my mom showed up at his window, breathless.

"John, what are you doing? Just…bring Walter inside. We'll hear what he has to say for himself and –"

"Not this time, Cathy! I am done with this son of yours acting like a punk!"

"He's your son, too, John!" she reminded him angrily.

My dad sat there a moment, revving the engine and thinking. I figured he was thinking what I always thought he was thinking when it came to me – something along the lines of wondering how he'd ever ended up with a son like me.

For as far back as I could remember, my relationship with my father had always been strained at best. It suited me fine, because at seventeen, I didn't want to be anything like my father and his disapproval of my ways told me that we had nothing in common.

Those feelings were only reinforced when he'd look at me sometimes and just sigh and shake his head. I was kind of hoping he'd do that right now and just get on with doling out the punishment.

"You're right," he said to my mom finally, "Walt is my son. My underage son. My son who doesn't have a license to drive. My son who stole my car and took off all night, leaving you to worry about him. My son who snuck home this morning, hoping I somehow wouldn't notice." He turned to face me.

" So, my son and I are going to go for a little drive, Cathy. He's already got the car all nice and warmed up."

"Where are you going, John?"

"To town…to see Lucian."

The name rang a faint bell, but for the life of me, I couldn't think exactly who he meant. In my own defense, I was tired. My mom, on the other hand, knew exactly who my dad was talking about and it was clear she wasn't pleased.

"John! Don't do this!"

"There's nothing else to do," my dad replied. "Best you stand clear, Cathy," and without another word, he pulled the lever down in to Drive.

My mom jumped back and we took off. I flew against the passenger side door. I grabbed the door handle for dear life and hung on tight.

I could hear my mom shouting my dad's name, begging him to stop, to change his mind, to turn the car around, her voice fading as we left her behind. I know my dad heard her too, but he chose to ignore her. He chose to ignore me, too, which was nothing new to me.

I realized I was showing him fear. I relaxed my grip on the door handle, settled back in to my seat and affected an air of belligerent indifference. My throat had gone dry, though and my heart was pounding. He was driving way too fast!

"Were you with Henry last night, Walt? Out getting into trouble? I mean, if you were, I could always make a detour through the Reservation and pick him up. I'm sure his dad would be agreeable to it. Both of them could join us on our early morning ride."

"Henry wasn't with me," and it was the truth.

Henry had tried to talk me out of what I'd been planning on doing so I hadn't told him exactly when I was doing it, to keep him from getting mixed up in all this. I had the feeling, along with terror, that he'd thank me for it one day.

"Can you maybe just slow down a bit, Dad?"

"Who were you with, Walt?" A question for a question and no sign of slowing down.

"No one."

This was a lie. I tried my best to state it as a fact. My hand crept up to my jaw and I rubbed absently. Peach-fuzz had turned to real whiskers and I needed a shave…

"Were you with a girl?"

"Dad…look…I had something to do. I needed the car. I meant to ask, but…"

"But you knew I'd say no so you took it anyway! How could I say yes when you're not old enough to drive?"

"I've been driving that old truck since I was twelve," I informed him.

"On the ranch, Walt! Not on the highway! What you did is illegal, not to mention the fact that you took my car without my permission. You stole my car…and now you're going to face the consequences. I have had enough of you and your wild ways, Walt!"

"Okay. Fine. Let's just head back home and you can make me muck out the stables for the rest of my life! We don't need to be out here, doing a million miles an hour down the highway!"

"Not this time, Walt. I warned you about disobeying me. This time, I'll let the Sheriff decide your punishment."

The Sheriff? Lucian. Lucian Connally!

It all clicked in to place. He wasn't serious, was he? I'd never met the guy even though he was a friend of my dad's but I'd heard about him. One mean, tough son of a bitch from what I'd gathered and the adjective 'crazy' had been used to describe him more times than not.

I glanced at my dad's profile - all I could see of him. He might as well have been chiselled out of stone. No give in him. No softness. Nothing but steely-eyed concentration on the road ahead of us and an aura of barely suppressed anger. I saw the way he was clenching the steering wheel.

"Dad…I'm sorry! Really! I wouldn't have done it, I swear, but I…I had to help a friend."

"A friend? You couldn't have just come to me and your mother and asked us to help?"

No, I couldn't. Neither one of them would have appreciated this particular friend nor the nature of our relationship. They wouldn't have understood why I had to do what I did.

While I was thinking about that, my dad was thinking his own thoughts. He jammed on the brakes. I wasn't ready for that and I flew against the dashboard, then back against the seat. A startled 'hey' escaped me.

"You didn't get some girl pregnant, did you?"

Now, my dad was looking right at me. Right. At. Me. I was eternally grateful at that moment that I could answer him with the truth.

"No, I didn't!" but it wasn't for lack of trying. It had more to do with birth control. Praise Jesus and pass the peas…

"If you're lying to me, boy…"

"Honest, Dad, it wasn't anything like that!"

And it wasn't.

First off, Dawn MorningStar wasn't a 'girl'. She was twenty-one years old. Second, she already had a kid, a son and he wasn't mine. Third, that she'd seduced me and skillfully taken my virginity was no damn business of my father's. I almost felt like telling him the whole damn story, just to see the look on his face when he found out that I wasn't a kid anymore. I was a man, now…

…and fine, he could take me to the Sheriff. He could have me locked up. I wasn't about to tell him or anyone else about Dawn. She was gone now, safe from the father of her child, and if I wanted her to stay that way, it meant keeping my mouth shut about what I'd done.

It also meant never seeing her again, never lying with her again, never having her kiss me again. Never burying my face in her long black hair and feeling it tickle my chest…

"Dad, this honestly isn't about anything like that!"

I swear his gaze softened just a little, but in the early morning light, I might just have imagined it. I'd never seen him look softly upon me before, so how would I know if I was seeing it or not?

"Son…just tell me why."

His voice seemed softer, too.

"I…I can't, Dad. I just…I can't."

If it had been a 'moment' it was fleeting. His eyes turned back to steel even as he exhaled audibly. He gave me one more look, this one full of scrutiny, before gunning the engine and off we went again. No more talking.

Something had changed dramatically between us when I'd refused to tell him why. His anger might still have been quiet towards me, but I suddenly heard it loud and clear in my head. I also felt a sense of resignation, as though he truly was about to wash his hands of me, once and for all. Somewhere inside of me, I latched on to the hope that he was only bluffing when it came to the Sheriff. Seriously, what kind of father has his own son arrested for something so damn trivial?

Ten minutes later, my dad was hauling me up the stairs to the Sheriff's office by my ear. During the silent ride to town, my hope had turned to resentment and that resentment turned again to embarrassment as my dad plowed through the office door and threw me unceremoniously on to a hard wooden bench directly across from the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, aside from Dawn.

"Is Lucian in, Ruby?" my dad barked.

"In his office, John. You know the way," and her voice was like velvet.

"You," my dad growled, pointing a finger at me,"just sit there and mind your damn manners!"

Apparently, the quiet anger was gone now and the storm was approaching.

He left me sitting in the outermost area of the office while he went in to talk to Sheriff Connally. He wasn't bluffing. He was going to have me arrested or worse, if there was worse. I sat there, nervous as all hell, convinced I was on my way to jail and embarrassment turned to fear.

Ruby sat at the dispatch/reception desk directly opposite me, eyeing me over. I tried to avoid her gaze, but when she spoke, I had no choice but to look at her; she was gorgeous.

"So, you're John Longmire's boy?"

"Yes, ma'am" I replied, thinking good manners might just keep me out of jail.

"Walter, right?"

I nodded.

"You in some kind of trouble, son?"

"So my dad says, ma'am…"

It was hard talking to her. She had beautiful, shiny long auburn hair and the softest blue eyes I'd ever seen. I knew she was at least a good fifteen years older than I was, but I was smitten. I was seventeen. I was a raging mess of testosterone. I was fickle, my feelings intense, but transitory.

"What did you do, Walter Longmire?"

I looked down at the floor, twirling my old ball cap in my hands. Talking to pretty girls wasn't my forte at the best of times. I could talk to Dawn, finally, but then again, 'talking' wasn't what we did best together…

"I was…just helping a friend…" I mumbled.

"Did you cause a ruckus? Set something on fire? Crash a car?"

"No, ma'am…."

I'd only 'borrowed' my dad's car. He called it 'stealing'. It was a matter of perspective. I looked up. Be a man, my dad always told me, even when I was a kid and so I gave it a try.

"I didn't do anything wrong," I told her with all the righteous of youth. "I was only trying to help…"

She got up then, left her desk to come sit beside me on the hard wooden bench. Her nearness threatened to suffocate me. It was draining the oxygen and the blood from my head and sending it…other places.

"I guess that's up to your dad and Sheriff Connally to decide, isn't it?" and my righteousness evaporated, along with other things, when I caught the slight hint of a threat in her voice. She was smiling. though. Trepidation must have shown on my face because she reached out and patted my knee.

"If you're lucky, Lucian might just aim to wound instead of kill, although that would be a first for him," and with those not-comforting words, she sashayed back to her desk and left me there to stew.

My dad came out of the office not too long after, looking upset, almost…vulnerable, but he quickly hid that softness with a scowl. I swear I saw it, like I thought I saw it in the car on the way here, but I was too keyed up to pay much attention to what might or might not have been.

"Get on in there, son," he ordered me. "Sheriff wants to have a word with you. Mind your mouth, too. Lucian doesn't take kindly to smart-ass punks."

He held the swinging gate open that separated the reception area from the bullpen and waved me through, keeping his head down. He wouldn't look at me.

I was about to meet Sheriff Lucian Connally, the stuff of legends…or horror stories. Probably a bit of both.

The door to his office stood open. He was sitting behind a big old wooden desk, reclining in his chair, boot heels up on the uncluttered surface. I walked in hesitantly even though I was going for 'confidence'. Maybe a little arrogance, too.

"Have a seat, stringbean" he invited.

I sat on the edge of the wooden chair across the desk from him. He'd been cleaning his gun and seemed more interested in that than he was in me. There was a long, uncomfortable silence on my part before he spoke again.

"So, your dad tells me you've been gettin' up to no good with that Larry LeaningChair," he drawled as he loaded the bullets back in his gun. "Were you with him this time around?"

It took me a bit more than a moment to figure out who the heck he was talking about. I honestly had no idea…and then it clicked.

"His name is Henry StandingBear," I stupidly corrected him. To make things worse I added defiantly, "You should get his name right – and no, he wasn't with me. I was…alone."

Lying again. Lucian knew it. I felt it in the hard look he gave me, but he didn't chase after it.

"I don't give a good goddamn what his name is, son. He could be fuckin' Geronimo for all I care" and he clicked the chamber in to place.

As swift as a fox, he sat up, leaned over his desk and looked me straight in the eye. Another blue-eyed stare, but unlike Ruby's, Lucian's eyes had been as cold as a mountain lake. Yeah, I could see the 'crazy' in him.

I lied about being alone – and he knew it! He was trying to intimidate me, make me fess up. I didn't. He was giving me my moment to come clean. I wasn't taking it and so, he continued.

"All I care about is the fact that your old man, my friend, John Longmire, saw fit to bring you in here so I could give you an ass-kickin'. Your daddy's a good man, salt of the earth and you, Walter Longmire, ought to have enough respect for him and your ma to do right by them! Drinkin' and stealin' cars; that don't sound like respect to me!"

I was quaking in my sneakers. Something about that cold stare of his had gone straight to my marrow. So much for defiance and arrogance.

"I…uh…I…."

I might've cracked then but he'd given me my time and that time had passed.

"Ahh, stop your damn stammerin'," Lucian scoffed.

He leaned back in his leather chair once more, his elbows propped on the armrests. He laced his fingers together and looked me up and down.

"You're a big old son, ain't cha? A little on the skinny side, but you might just do. Your dad tells me you're some kind of hot-shot on the football field. Got yourself a scholarship and all. One more year of school and then you're off to college, huh, boy?"

This was a strange change of direction.

"Yes, sir" I answered, all puffed up with pride in spite of my predicament. Foolish youth...

"Well, Mr. Hotshot Running Back, how would you like to spend that last year working for me?"

That had been the very last thing I'd expected to hear from him. A small flame of hope sparked in me.

"You mean you want me to be a deputy?"

The idea excited me. Lucian just laughed but there was nothing pleasant about it.

"Deputy? No son, I got plenty of them…What I need is someone to clean this place up, scrub the puke, piss and blood out of those cells yonder, take out the trash and wash the cars. A big, strong boy like you ought to be able to handle that! Deputy? That's a good one son", and he chuckled.

My heart fell then. Anger replaced excitement. Lucian leaned across his desk yet again and spoke to me quietly.

"I'm really not offering you the job, son…I'm just givin' you a choice. Work for me or spend some time in one of those fancy delinquent homes. You're underage but I've got your daddy's permission to do with you what I want, so you just tone down that fire there, Walt, and think about this. I could throw you in jail if I really wanted to. Grand theft auto is a serious crime, son, and this is my county. I do what I please."

He picked up his gun then and idly twirled it around in his hand, his hard, cold eyes locked with mine.

I thought about it, didn't like my options. I was pretty sure he couldn't really throw me in jail, but send me to a home? That was a very real possibility. I knew my dad was mad enough to let him do it, too. In the end, I made my choice, as if there'd ever really been much choice in the first place! Being in that situation really pissed me off.

"When do I start?" was all I said with a decided lack of enthusiasm and the gloating laugh Lucian barked out made me hate him. The smug look he gave me at my apparent caving also made me vow not to let him get to me.

"You can take your skinny ass out there right now. Get Ruby to show you where the mop and pail are and get to workin'. Welcome to my world, Walt Longmire."

He laughed that crazy laugh of his as I stood up and stalked out of his office. I was full of dark thoughts, directed towards Lucian and mostly, my dad, for doing this to me.

"You old prick," I muttered under my breath, including both men in that category.

And so began my relationship with Lucian Connally and my career with the Absaroka County Sheriff's Department. That first year was a bitch…

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"I heard you call me an old prick", Lucian told me just before tipping back his glass and finishing off his whiskey. He took a long drag off the cigar he'd lit up.

"I was inclined to shoot you in the ass, but watchin' you walk out of my office, all dejected-like was good enough that day," he chuckled.

"You were an old prick back then and you still are," I told him. I was toying with my half-full glass. I'd had enough whiskey last night to make me cautious about partaking of much more today and the smell of Lucian's cigar was making me queasy.

"Yeah, well…only the good die young, Walt. You oughta know that by now."

I gave a grunt of agreement before a thoughtful silence fell between us. Both of us transported back to a place long ago and far away.

Back then, basically being Lucian's slave, I never imagined myself becoming the Sheriff. Never imagined Lucian being anything but and yet, here we sat. Life, with all its twists and turns, had a way of taking you places you never planned on going…

"As hard as I rode your ass, you took it, Walt ," Lucian mused. "You were a bit of a belligerent punk, but you took it and you toughed it out. I was proud of you, boy. You reminded me a lot of your daddy…"

I bristled. Couldn't help it. I felt my jaw set and Lucian must've seen it.

"You got to let go of your resentment, Walt."

"I don't have to do anything you say, anymore, Lucian. I don't want to talk about it."

"Too bad! I heard your side of that story and I heard it from your daddy, too. He ain't here to tell you how it was for him and I reckon it's about time someone filled you in!"

"He dragged me down there so you could arrest me! Yeah, maybe I wasn't a model son, but I didn't deserve that!"

"I don't know about that. You never did tell me why you stole his car…"

I tried to glare at him but still found myself being that seventeen year old kid, withering under his icy-blue gaze.

"Which one of us is going to tell our story first, Walt?"

No comment.

"Fine, I'll go first, but you're gonna tell me why you did what you did."

"I wouldn't count on that if I were you."

"We'll see. One truth begets another. Even Fancy Underpants would agree with me on this one."

Why hadn't I just gone to see Henry instead of coming here? Better yet, why hadn't I just stayed home, crawled back in to bed and let this all just pass me by? All I wanted was to talk to someone about this thing with Vic. Talking was supposed to be a good thing, right? It had worked between Branch and I, after Barlow tried to kill him. It hadn't been easy, but it had been therapeutic.

Trying to talk to Vic…well, there was more shouting than talking, but maybe tomorrow we could work it out. Maybe once we were back to work, on neutral ground, we could work this out…

Yup, I was going to get up, leave. I was done with this. I pushed my chair back, reached for my hat.

"You remember askin' me about Gary? You told me your dad said something about him when he was dyin'…"

"You said you didn't know what he meant," I replied without much interest as I got to my feet.

"I lied, Walt."

I looked down at Lucian. His was looking up at me and he was nervous! I watched his mouth open. An insane urge to tell him to shut up came over me. Something was coming…and when it came, that something threatened to drop me right back in to my chair.

"Gary was your brother…"

I swear that statement echoed through the room.

"Old man, I think you just had yourself a stroke."

It seemed the most likely explanation, even if I was grabbing for it out in left field. Lucian looked so upset that I almost called for a nurse.

"This ain't no stroke,Walt. It's just a fact. Sayin' it feels like what I imagine a stroke would be like, but this is true and the stroke's just for another day."

"Something's messing with your brain, Lucian. I don't have and never did have a brother. You know that."

I took the cigar from between his fingers and crushed it out in the ashtray. He didn't even protest.

"Just because you never knew him doesn't mean he never existed…and anyway, he was your half-brother. Quit lookin' at me like I've lost my mind, Walt! Just sit back down and hear me out."

No, this couldn't be true! Lucian just admitted lying to me the first time around about 'Gary', so he could just as easily be lying this time…

…except I knew he wasn't. I only had to look in his eyes to see what bringing up this subject was doing to him. Hat set aside, coat taken off, I sat back down on the edge of my seat and waited.

"So…your daddy…he was married before he met your ma. Married young, shot-gun style and before you could turn around twice, he had himself a son. He was so proud of that little boy! Parading him around town, boring us all to tears with the details of babyhood and such, but it was hard not to envy him a bit. He was so happy about it all."

"I'm not buyin' this…"

I hadn't meant to say it out loud, but there it was.

"It's true, Walt. I know you can't picture your dad that way, but that's how he was."

I felt a twinge. Anger? Jealousy? Six of one, half a dozen of the other.

"So my dad was a happy guy til I came along. So glad I stayed to hear that."

"Just keep listening and maybe you'll understand. Gary, now, he was a handful. In to everything, always so curious, so fearless! A lot like you when you were young, Walt. Must be a Longmire trait."

He smiled. I didn't. I sat back in my chair and absently ran my fingers over my jaw, the rasping of my whiskers letting me know I wasn't dreaming this.

"He grew up and he grew bolder. He was a good kid. Gregarious, funny and willing to try just about anything once, just to say he'd done it. He had a wild streak in him that your daddy admired and like I said, a fearlessness to him that more times than not landed him in the hospital, mostly for stitches and such. Sound like anyone you know?"

"My acquaintance with' stitches and such' started when I went to work for you, Lucian. Any 'wild' side I might've had was most definitely not encouraged by my father."

"Not encouraged and I can't say I blame him, but that doesn't mean you didn't have that same streak in you, Walt. You needed fixin', you went off to the Medicine Man with that Hanky CountyFair pal of yours…"

How the hell did Lucian know that? Did I really have to ask? I was the Sheriff now and I knew a lot more about the good citizens of this town than they were aware of. Being friends with my dad had given him a bit of an advantage, too, but I could've sworn my dad hadn't known or given much of a damn about what I did when I was with Henry, as long as it didn't involve drinking. Huh…

"So, this Gary, dad's golden boy…Where is he now? Me and you, we could hop in the Bullet and go pay him a call."

"Walt – "

"No, seriously, Lucian, tell me where he is."

"He's out at the homestead, Walt…"

"There's nobody out there, not now, anyway. It needs some fixing up before I can rent it out again…or sell it."

"He's there, Walt. Trust me."

"Then let's get going so I can meet my brother!"

"He's…he's dead, Walt. A long time now…"

"So, you're saying there's a body buried out on my parents' place?"

"Not a body, per se….Ashes."

"Where?"

"Y'know that crab-apple tree, out back on the hill?"

"Yeah…"

"Your dad buried his ashes there then planted that tree…"

"It's illegal to- "

"He wanted him close, Walt. No one knows, 'cept me."

"When?"

"Gary was twelve when he died. He'd be at least fourteen years older than you, so it's been a long time now."

"What happened?"

"He heard about the Lost Cabin Mine. Got all intrigued with findin' it. Hounded your dad about the two of them goin' to take a look-see. Your dad told him it was too dangerous to go wandering around in the mountains and the chances of them findin' anything were remote at best, but like you, when Gary got somethin' in his head, lettin' go of it was impossible."

Lucian took another shot of whiskey. I did likewise. Maybe I should've said something, but I didn't.

"It was over the weekend…t'wards Springtime, if I recall correctly. Your daddy was out of town. His wife was busy with the garden. Gary, he up and saddled himself a horse, told his mom he was going to a friend's for the day."

"What was her name?"

"Who? His friend?"

"No. My dad's wife. What was her name?"

"Mary-Anne. Not from around these parts. He'd met her somewhere else. The exact place escapes me now."

"Hhhmmm…"

"As I was sayin', Gary took off. Went in search of the Lost Cabin Mine or so it appeared when they found him."

"Dead?"

"Yup…Up in the Big Horns."

"What happened?"

"It appeared that he must've fallen from his horse. Maybe something spooked it. Who knows? Anyway, he fell, broke his neck. Took a couple of days for word to reach your dad that he was missin' and a couple more before he found him…It wasn't a pretty sight."

I could imagine it. I'd done my share of rescues up in the Big Horns and spent my own time lost in the mountains. I'd seen a body or two after predators had been at it…

"No! This is all bullshit!" I couldn't help saying."How come I've never heard of this mysterious half-brother of mine? My dad's family's been here for generations, almost as long as your family. Most families around here are at least third-generation! People would've known! There'd be talk! I wouldn't be finding this out now, not after all these years!"

"It's because families go back a ways here that there wasn't talk, Walt. Secrets are best held by those who kept them in the first place. You know that just as well as anyone," and I knew he was talking about Martha…and I had to admit there was truth in what he said.

"There's also 'respect'. Your daddy was never the same after Gary died. He holed himself up in that homestead. Mary-Ann left him. Can't say as I blame her. Just too much grief between them… It was the Bennets that sent your ma, their daughter, out there to tend to him. She cooked for him, cleaned for him; basically kept him alive. When he finally did show up in town, he let it be known that if he ever heard one word about Gary, there'd be trouble…and at the time, Walt, your daddy was crazy enough to mean it in the worst possible way. It came as no surprise when he married your ma. It seemed to settle him a bit, but he never really was the happy man he used to be. Then you came along…"

"It wasn't my fault."

The words just fell out. Just like the bottom was falling out of my world all over again. Secrets and sins.

"I know your dad was hard on you, Walt. Made you tow the line, kept you in check, tried to squash anything he took for foolish childhood fantasy. Your ma, rest her soul, she found other ways for you to indulge in that wild spirit of yours. She taught you to travel to other places through books. She showed you other worlds through music. You know she loved you…"

"She did."

"But your daddy loved you, too, Walt! He just wanted to keep you safe. He saw that same side of you that Gary had in 'im – and his biggest fear was losing you before you lost him…He wouldn't have made it through that again, Walt. Do you understand?"

I couldn't speak without swallowing the lump in my throat.

"Don't romanticise this, Lucian."

"And don't you act like none of this bothers you!"

Bothered me? Bothered me! Oh, hell, it did!

Anger. Bitterness. A strange sense of betrayal. They all came together like a tsunami in the sea of emotions I was feeling. A sea that threatened to carry me away and drown me. Betrayal seemed the dominant feeling. I couldn't believe that not one person in my family, not one person in this town, felt the need to let me know these things!

Couldn't believe Lucian had sat on this 'truth' all these years – and because I knew this wasn't what he meant for me to feel by finally telling me this, I kept my thoughts to myself. Grabbed hold of my emotions, those waves on the sea, and wrestled them in to a manageable calmness. I wasn't going to drown.

Maybe Lucian had expected me to break down. To shed a tear or two and tell him I forgave him for keeping this from me, that I forgave my father all his sins, real or imagined.

Maybe he wanted me to smile and say it all made sense now, all the years of never knowing why, just disappearing as I came to the realization that my father really had loved me.

– and maybe these were the responses he was looking for – but I couldn't give them to him. In my own defense, there was a good chance I was just too numb to show anything.

As Vic had said, 'happy fuckin' New Year…