Mississippi Bayou Belle

Chapter 1 – Burned Steak and Aces

Yes indeed, she was grand. A brand new riverboat, the finest in her class, built for opulence and luxury and plenty of gambling. Murder was not supposed to be on the menu for the maiden voyage. But with the Maverick brothers on board, who knew what was liable to happen?

This was supposed to be a pleasurable working cruise. Something to take their minds off the troubles that had befallen them of late; something different and exciting, yet fun and familiar. The brothers hadn't been on a riverboat together since – well since the last time they went upriver, too long ago to remember. Bart had seen an article about the first trip to New Orleans while he was recuperating from a painful beating. The alternative was an extended visit with their father and uncle in Little Bend, Texas. The prospect of the Belle's first voyage was much more intriguing.

Through his friend Anderson Garrett Bart had gotten them an invitation to make the trip. By the time departure was near there were enough poker winnings to upgrade their passage to what Bret jokingly called the 'high end of the boat.' It was going to be enjoyable, for a change, to travel in first class rather than the way they'd traveled many times before.

They made their way from Denver as soon as Bart was well enough to travel, after the stitches were removed and there was no continued fear of infection. It was a nice change, to not be in a hurry to get somewhere, and they took full advantage of their trip across Missouri to fatten their poke. By the time they reached St. Louis it appeared there would be no money worries for a while.

The last night in port they went to dinner at the 'Missouri Cattlemen's Steakhouse' and indulged in the biggest steak on the menu. That is, Bret indulged in the biggest steak on the menu. When the waitress brought their meals out Bart could only shake his head in wonder.

"How can you eat that much food?" he asked his brother. "And it's not even cooked!"

Bret preferred his meat on the rare side; Bart was a well-done man.

"I come from Texas, son. That's the way we eat."

Bart almost laughed out loud. "I was born there, too. Remember? I can't eat an entire steer in one sitting."

Bret paused with the fork halfway to his mouth. "Not my fault I got Pappy's appetite and you got Momma's."

That did elicit a laugh from Maverick, the younger. "Just be careful you don't get bigger than Pappy."

Bret poked at his brother with the fork. "You could sure stand some of that, Brother Bart. You're almost too thin to be a Maverick."

"Yeah, well, remember why," Bart reminded him. In the last three years one thing after another had plagued Bart's physical being and state of mind. He had no interest in food when he was worried or anxious, which he'd been during most of that period. And when he wasn't one of those two, he was injured physically. So Bret's remark was not entirely welcome.

"No more excuses," Bret shot back at him. "There's nothing wrong now. Eat." Brothers certainly knew how to be a pain sometimes, even when they were as close as the Mavericks were. They ate in silence for a few minutes before Bret spoke up again. "Are you all packed? The Belle leaves at eight a.m., you know."

"Yes, Pappy, I know. I'm more packed than you are. And who schedules a brand new boat like the Belle for that early, anyway?"

"Must be somebody in a hurry to lose their money," Bret answered. "You would think with all the important people on this trip they would have scheduled her at a decent hour, wouldn't you?"

"Oh, they did," Bart answered between bites. "She's not leaving at eight a.m., she's loading at eight a.m."

"How do you know that?"

"Read the fine print on the ticket."

Bret picked up a roll and threw it at his brother. "Nobody likes a smartass, Brother Bart."

"True." There was a mischievous gleam in Bart's eyes. "Is that why you can't keep a lady friend for any length of time?"

The older Maverick chose to ignore the last question. Instead he patted his stomach. "Well, I'm full."

Bart looked at his brother's plate, which was empty except for a bone. "Bone too hard to chew?" he asked.

"Yes. What about dessert?"

"No room," was the reply.

"No room? You only ate half your steak!"

"I'd offer it to you, but it's too dead to suit your taste."

"Maybe you'd eat more if you didn't have everything burned." At least as far as Bret was concerned, it was burned.

"I'm still done. I'm heading back to the hotel; I'd like to be on time tomorrow."

"On time for the loading or on time for the leaving?"

"Does it matter? As long as we're both on the Belle when she leaves port."

"Guess not. Whose turn is it?" To pay for dinner, of course.

Bart thought for a minute. "I got breakfast."

"And I got lunch," Bret answered.

"Yeah, my lunch consisted of coffee and coffee," came the word from Bart.

"Not my fault. Dinner's on you, Brother Bart. Besides, you're better off financially than I am."

"I don't think so, big brother. I think we're just about even."

Bret couldn't argue with that. "Alright, 50-50?"

"Cut cards for it?" Bart asked, then hastily added, "With my deck?"

"Don't trust me?"

"Not a bit." That brought laughter from both of them. They cut the cards to see who paid for dinner – Bart drew a king, Bret an ace. "Even with my own deck," Bart complained.

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