Death Has Its Price
Prologue"I'm sorry to inform you, Mr. Maverick, that your brother is dead."
He heard the words, but they had no meaning. Bart dead? It couldn't be. He'd know it, deep inside. There would be pain, and agony, and an insufferable empty space where Bart was supposed to be. Instead everything was as it had been before, ever since he was nothing more than a toddler himself, and he'd met his 'little brother' for the first time. So small, so fragile, momma had let him hold the baby during their initial meeting. It was love at first site for Breton Joseph Maverick and his brother, Bartley Jamison Maverick.
He'd been his protector and defender ever since. When Momma was alive he'd watched the baby for hours, learning to feed and care for Bart before he could care for himself. After Momma died he was mother and father both to his brother, bandaging the skinned knees and soothing the fevered brows, when Pappy was either too disconsolate or out too late to do so. He'd saved Bart from an unjustified hanging and more than one gunshot wound, and nursed him through so many beatings and broken bones he'd lost count. Then the little man that stood before him had the audacity to tell him his brother was dead. And Bret hadn't even been there.
But it wasn't just the coroner. It was Bart's good friend, Doc Holliday, his arm still in a sling, his face and body still black and blue, that agreed with the little man. Bret heard the words, but they made no sense at all. Avalanche? Days long search? Dead horse? Bart's hat, battered almost beyond recognition? The words just kept coming, and he finally could take no more, and bolted from the room. Every. word. an. arrow. that. pierced. his. heart.
Bart Maverick was still out there somewhere, alive, waiting for his brother to find him and bring him home. And by God, if it was the last thing he ever did on this earth, Bret Maverick would do just that.