Chapter 1 – Recurring Nightmares

We were on our way home from New Orleans, Louisiana, and it had been a rough trip so far. Let me clarify that – 'we' consisted of me, Bart Maverick, professional poker player, and my father. Affectionately known as 'Pappy,' Beauregard Maverick, he was the original in the family. When Pappy started out there was no such thing as a 'professional poker player' – they were all called gamblers, con men, card sharps and card cheats. Not that the description fit Pappy – he was an anomaly. He was honest. He has a younger brother, Bentley, who is saddled with the same affliction. Honesty. Well, Ben may be a tad more larcenous. A bit more on the reckless side. But honest to a fault.

The trip from New Orleans to Little Bend, Texas, normally takes about a week. We'd been at it for over ten days. We'd encountered every delay that could slow us down, from hostiles where they weren't expected to be, to a horse that broke his leg and collapsed. We'd gotten two replacement drivers. The first one took sick and couldn't continue, the second one shot himself in the foot when he was tryin' to get his rifle out of the boot. One way station had been burned to the ground and one was deserted; the third had all their livestock rustled.

Pappy and me had come to the conclusion that fate or destiny or whatever you wanted to call it was mad at one or both of us for some reason. Maybe God just wasn't happy with the way things had gone in Louisiana, maybe it was nothin' more than the worst run of bad luck seen in a long time; I don't know. Whatever it was, the string never broke until we were well into Texas. By that time we were just plum worn out and ready to sit still for a good long spell.

There's two more members of this family that I forgot to tell you about. Neither one of 'em was in Little Bend right now. Brother Bret, Pappy's oldest son and my big brother, was in Topeka with his lady love, Pinkerton Captain Ginny Malone. She was workin' on a new case; he was still gettin' back to normal after almost being gunned down in Memphis. Cousin Beau, Uncle Bentley's son, was in Denver at the moment, gettin' in to God only knows what kind of trouble. Far as I knew there was no particular lady in his life right now. Like me, Beau had been married once and, again like me, his wife was now deceased. Bret and Beau are also honest poker players. It's the family 'business.'

When me and Pappy finally got to Houston we decided to spend the night in a hotel. Neither one of us could stand one more night on that stage, and we both needed to stretch our legs and eat a real breakfast in the morning. So we got a room at the Houston City Palace and sat down at a poker table. That's when Lady Luck finally remembered who the Mavericks were and decided we'd suffered enough.

The next morning we were both in a better mood. Pappy left his horse in Houston when he'd come to my side in New Orleans and, after last night, I found a sweet little blue roan mare and bought her. No more stagecoach riding for the Maverick boys, we were headed home on horseback.

When we finally came around the bend in the road and saw the Mansion (Ben's house is so big, that's what he's always called it), I could hear Lily Mae yellin' "Here they come! Here they come!" Lily is a second mother to all of us. She's been Uncle Ben's housekeeper for more than twenty years, and she moved into the Mansion after her own husband died. God help all of us if Lily Mae ever leaves. By the time we rode up to the house, Lily Mae was already out in the front yard waiting for us. She saw Pappy first and wrapped him in a hug the way only Lily Mae can – Pappy hates it, but he lets Lily greet him any way she wants. Then she turned to me and gasped.

"Mr. B!" she wailed. I'd wondered just how bad I must look, and Lily's cry convinced me it was worse than I thought. "Oh, my poor Mr. B!" Normally on the thin side anyway, I had the feeling the opium I'd involuntarily encountered in New Orleans had done its worst on my frame. Lily Mae's reaction served to confirm my instincts.

She was much more gentle with the hug she gave me, as if I was some fragile piece of glass. "I won't break, Lily, I promise," I informed her, but I don't think she believed it. By the time she let go of me Uncle Ben had put in an appearance, and he took a good, hard look at me.

"I assume there's some kind of a story that explains this look," he told Pappy, who just nodded his assent and took Ben's arm.

"Later," was the only thing I heard as we walked in the house. I promised the little blue roan she would get my full attention soon, and followed Ben and Pappy down the hall to the kitchen. Everything looked the same as it had the last time I was here; everything but me. Ben's and Lily Mae's eyes held questions, but there was plenty of time for answers later.

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Lily had supper ready, as usual, and she did her best to feed me too much. I'm afraid I upset her when I couldn't even eat as much as I did before, which wasn't a whole lot. It was gonna take time for me to come back from the mess I'd walked into in Louisiana, and that's just the way it was.

I was worn out from the ride and needed to rest for a while. Ben promised to take care of the roan and Pappy went with him, no doubt to explain what had happened while we were both gone. I found the room I always claimed as mine when I was here and removed my coat and vest, followed by my boots and gun belt. Normally it's hard for me to fall asleep, but I was gone within minutes of stretching out on the bed. As always since we'd left Louisiana, my dreams were haunted by visions of Matthew Langford and the hell he'd inflicted on me.

I was wandering the streets of New Orleans, and Matt was alive and with me. He kept steering me down this street and that until we finally came to a dingy building that I knew must be Weng-Fai Wongs. And I walked into it willingly with Matthew close behind me. The air was hazy and yellow, and that sweet, pungent smell I recognized hung everywhere. I wanted to turn and run, but instead I reached out and accepted the cigar that some unknown person handed me. My mind was screaming, "NO! NO! NO!" but my physical being wanted the sweet relief that came with the mind-numbing drug. I felt my body begin to float away, but before I could get any further someone had their hands on my arm, shaking me awake. AsI opened my eyes I realized it was Lily Mae.

"Bart, baby, you were yelling. I got here as fast as I could."

I blinked slowly; I needed the sleep desperately but was glad that she'd shaken me awake. "It's alright, Lily, I'm glad you woke me. I was dreamin' again."

"Dreaming?" she huffed. "More like havin' a nightmare."

"Actually, you're right. That's what it was, a nightmare. And sometimes I'm still not sure that I'm awake."

I almost laughed. I thought it would be so easy – I was convinced when Pappy and I left New Orleans that the worst of it was over. Now that I was home in Texas I realized something that left me shaken to the core – it was just beginning. And I was gonna need every bit of help I could get to make it through and out the other side.