Two Days in the Valley

Chapter 1 – Claytonville

Four days after his sister left Little Bend, Texas to return to Montana, Bart Maverick prepared to travel to Claytonville for some rest, recreation, and poker. His wife, Doralice, almost seven months pregnant with their third child, was most anxious for him to leave. All summer he'd been bombarded with one problem after another, culminating in the possible 'much too early' birth of that very child. When everything finally settled down and the crisis had passed, Doralice was more than concerned about her husband's mental state.

So she suggested he go play some poker. He'd spent the better part of his life as a professional poker player, but had almost given it up to take over the management of Maude's, the biggest and best saloon in Little Bend. Maude's was owned by its namesake, Maude Donovan de la Torres, his mother-in-law. He started out as nighttime floor manager but assumed day-to-day control when Maude decided she wanted to spend more time with her grandchildren, Bart and Doralice's twin daughters, and her husband.

Bart had proven to be a natural at running the place, keeping everyone happy and the profits high. And, much to his surprise, he enjoyed the responsibility. It allowed him to remain around the game he loved without the hazards of going broke or constantly traveling, and it gave him much desired time with his wife and daughters, whom he adored.

But the stress and strain he'd dealt with this summer had exhausted him, mentally and physically. The visit of an old friend who was in dire need of his help, followed quickly by the summer-long stay of his 'sister,' Jody Dooley, who brought problems and issues of her own with her, left him in need of time with nothing better to do than . . . play poker.

Doralice recognized the mental fatigue her husband was suffering from, even if he didn't. To top everything off, her pregnancy had proven problematical, with the continual suffering of migraine headaches and false labor pains, and Bart drove himself crazy with worry for her and their unborn child. By the time both conditions had subsided, Doralice was well aware of the fact that a day or two of the game he loved would do him a world of good. And she set about convincing him of the same.

She had an answer for every issue that he raised. Maude's husband Cristian was a well-known attorney who was out of town on a trial, so Maude could stay at the Maverick house. That way Doralice wouldn't be alone. Bart had a perfectly capable floor manager named Billy Sunday who could handle the saloon for a day or two without everything falling apart, and the more Bart thought about it, the better it sounded. After a lot of additional assurances that she would be fine, especially if he was gone for such a short span of time, Bart succumbed to his wife's urging and agreed to leave at the end of the week for Claytonville.

The more he thought about it, the better it sounded . . . and he began to actually look forward to leaving. Doralice was right, he needed some time with nothing to think about but the cards, to clear all the cobwebs out of his mind, to put himself back on track emotionally. And so, on Friday morning, he packed a bag, kissed his daughters and his wife goodbye, and headed for Claytonville.

XXXXXXXX

The town had grown considerably since the last time he and Doralice had been there. Once smaller than Little Bend, the city itself was now almost three times the size of its nearest neighbor. Little Bend was growing, but Claytonville was growing even faster.

There were two full-size hotels . . . the Claytonville Arms and the Claytonville City Hotel. Bart checked in to the Claytonville Arms and had them wire Doralice so she would know where to find him if he was needed. That, in itself, was something of a step forward for the hotel. A telegraph office right inside! It certainly was convenient. The saloon had been remodeled, and a poker room added where the old dining salon used to be. The restaurant moved next door.

Bart went to his room and changed clothes. He'd ridden into town in what he called his traveling clothes, but he wanted to play poker dressed a little more appropriately. By the time he got back downstairs it was almost noon, and he found a table he liked with a game that seemed promising and began to play.

It wasn't exactly rough going at first, but his game was nowhere as smooth as he would like it to be, and there were some spots where he was simply outmaneuvered. That showed him just how rusty his skills had become over the last year or so, and he was determined that he wasn't getting up from the table before he'd done some polishing.

That's why he was still sitting at the same table come eight o'clock that evening. He wasn't completely pleased with the way he was playing, but he was certainly better than he'd been when he first joined the table. "How's the food next door?" he asked Charlie Benson, the man playing to his immediate right. Charlie was at the table when Bart first sat down.

"Not fit for man nor beast," Charlie replied and drew a laugh from half the table. "Try Mollie Jane's about half a block up the street. Better food and prettier waitresses. Although you probably ain't concerned with that," Charlie added, noting the wedding ring on Bart's left hand.

"You're right about that, Charlie," Bart agreed. "But I do want good food."

"Mollie Jane's the place to go then," Bert Phillips offered. Bert was on Bart's left and had only been at the table an hour or two. "Specially this time of night. Best cook in town is workin' there right now."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, you won't find none better here in Claytonville. Manny Sabilla makes the tastiest dishes anywhere. You comin' back afterwards?" Charlie inquired.

"Yeah, I need some more practice," Bart laughed, indicating the stack of money in front of him.

"I'd say you're doin' just fine," came from Bobby Braddock, on the far side of the table.

Bart laughed again. "I guess I am, at that." He picked up his funds and put them in his wallet, then gathered himself and got up from the table. "Gentlemen, I'll be back later."

Charlie watched Bart walk away from the table and out of the poker room. "Seems like a nice enough fella," he remarked.

"Don't you know who that is?" Bobby asked.

"No. Should I?"

"You ever hear of Maude's Saloon over in Little Bend?"

Charlie nodded. "Sure. It's supposed to be somethin' real fancy. What's he got to do with . . . ?"

Bert answered that question. "That's the head man, the guy that runs the place."

"Maverick? He runs Maude's?"

"Yep," Braddock offered. "Wonder what he's doin' over here?"

"Probably seein' how much he can take us all for," the fifth man at the table, Swifty Jones, told them.

"What does that mean?"

"He's a cardsharp."

"Don't play like one," Charlie finally declared.

"You see who was winnin' all the money at the table, don'tcha?"

"That don't mean nothin'. Maybe he's just a good poker player."

"I still wanna know what he's doin' in Claytonville."

"Somebody go get the sheriff."

"What for?" Charlie asked.

"So when we catch him cheatin' Manning can arrest him, that's what for." Jones left no doubt that he thought Bart was crooked.

"You're wrong, Swifty. I been playin' with him all day, and he ain't cheatin'."

The argument about Bart Maverick continued for another ten minutes before Swifty Jones got up from the poker table and went to get the newly hired sheriff, Louis Manning. Manning listened to Swifty's brief entreaty, then followed him back to the poker room. "Alright, what's this all about?" he asked, and the discussion started all over again. It was gonna be a long night.