Maverick

So Long to Devotion

By Lucky_Ladybug

Notes: The characters are not mine and the story is! I decided it would be fun to have Beau meet Jack Vandergelt III. Then I wondered if I could get Snakes Tolliver, my favorite Maverick foil, into the story and this is what came out of it. This takes place some time after Send My Condolences to Good.

Chapter One

Beau Maverick rarely knew what to expect when riding into a new town. Some were welcoming, some cold, and some just plain weird.

As he arrived in the small Western town of Bent Spoon, he barely had time to make a "What on Earth" face at the name before bullets were flying overhead. His horse reared back in shock and terror, nearly sending him to the ground in spite of his yelps and protests and desperate attempts to make the animal settle down. When the ammunition kept pelting his way and the horse absolutely panicked, it was all he could do to lean forward and hold on as it ran at full gallop down the main street, around the side of the general store, and towards the back.

"Whoa there," he heard his own voice say, even though he hadn't said a word.

He looked up with a start, only to see a man step out of the shadows and very calmly take hold of the bridle. The horse whinnied and danced, nearly flinging Beau free again, but he held fast and the newcomer gripped the bridle and spoke softly until the equine settled down.

"Thank you," Beau said in relief, carefully coming down from the saddle before any other disasters could happen. "I daresay you saved my life."

"Think nothing of it," his own voice said back to him again. "The fact of the matter is, you saved mine."

"What?" Beau raised an eyebrow. "Who are you?"

"Jack Vandergelt the Third," was the reply. The newcomer stepped forward, into the light from the lantern at the back window of the general store, and Beau stared in disbelieving amazement.

"Why, we could be twins," he exclaimed.

"Yes. I'm afraid that's how you saved my life," said Jack. "They thought you were me."

"Well, I've certainly blundered into the wrong place," Beau said in exasperation. "Why do they want to kill you? And how far will I have to go to escape them?"

"In answer to your second question, I don't know," Jack admitted. "As to your first, it's a long and troublesome story. The short answer is that a dangerous crime syndicate wants my father to fall in with it and use some of his businesses to help expand it. He won't budge, so I'm the new favorite target."

Beau cringed. This was not the sort of situation he had wanted to plunge right into the middle of! "What kind of a crime syndicate is it?" he asked.

Jack started walking, still leading Beau's horse by the bridle. "They dabble in a little bit of everything, I believe. The local head is the one overseeing the attempts to either capture or kill me; I'm not sure which he's after."

Beau walked with him. "And this local head lives here?" he said in bewilderment. The town of Bent Spoon sounded like the last place a crime boss would have his headquarters.

"He owns the town," Jack said. "It's one of many under his control. He stops in sometimes when he's in the area."

"Who is he?" Beau asked.

"Snakes Tolliver."

The announcement caused Beau to stop in his tracks. "What?" In spite of himself, he was visibly shaken.

Jack stopped too. "Do you know him?"

"I . . ." Beau slowly shook his head. "Yes, I've met him." He gripped the horse's reins. "I know I shouldn't be surprised; I always knew he wouldn't give up his life of crime. But . . ." He trailed off, not really up to saying aloud that even though Snakes didn't seem to be sentimental, Beau had a hard time believing he would deliberately orchestrate the killing of a man who looked exactly like Beau. Before the adventure that had brought them together was over, Snakes had presented himself to Beau as very genuinely caring about him and respecting him. Beau even suspected Snakes had wanted a friend in Beau when he had agreed to help him when Bart had been grieviously wounded. They had parted from that experience as friends in Beau's mind.

"Oh, he's not someone to cross. My wife has actually tried to get Father to just give in and let the syndicate do what they want if the alternative is my being harmed." Jack sighed. "But he's bound and determined to not be intimidated. I'm going to have to stand up to them and fight back the next time they come around. They might harm my wife if they can't get to me."

"Is she here with you?" Beau frowned.

"At the hotel. She wasn't going to leave me to deal with this madness alone." Jack ran a hand through his hair. "I wish she'd stayed back home, but on the other hand, that would have certainly made her a more available target."

"What are you doing here anyway?" Beau exclaimed. "Why march right into the lions' den?"

"It wasn't deliberate, I can assure you," Jack insisted. "I was in the area checking on some of Father's and my investments before I knew someone was after me. There's a gold mine around here and we own one of the companies selling supplies to the miners."

"Well, that's one way to turn a profit without breaking your back," Beau mused.

"The only way when it comes to mining," Jack declared. "Nothing else is sure."

"I can't argue with that," said Beau. "When did you realize someone was after you?"

"Before I arrived here in Bent Spoon, there were two attempts to catch me," Jack said. "My father received a warning note after each of them. My wife Lydia and I tried to get away, but someone sabotaged the stage and stranded us here."

"And how did you learn about Snakes' involvement?" Beau pressed.

"Everyone in town talks about him," Jack sighed. "Apparently he got this town on its feet. And he sent the notes to my father and signed them with a drawing of a snake, his trademark. He sent another tonight, saying that I had landed right at his doorstep, so to speak, and it wouldn't be long now."

"The notes could be forged," Beau objected.

"I suppose, but Snakes is prominent in this area and I'm sure I've seen the men who attacked me walking with him," Jack said.

"This must ultimately be the doing of that mysterious boss of Snakes'," Beau decided. "Before you do anything more, I'd like to try to have a talk with him. Is he staying in town right now?"

"He's at the largest house in town," Jack said in surprise. "But you can't go there; you won't get within ten yards of it before you'll be captured or killed in my stead! I can't let you do that."

"I'll go around from the back and call to Snakes," Beau determined. "He won't harm me, really. Not if he knows it's me."

Jack looked doubtful. "He'd harm you all the more! If the order is to kill me, he'd kill you and present you to my father and his boss."

"I don't believe that," Beau insisted. "Anyway, if he did that, he'd know you could always come out and expose his plan. Unless he would think you'd run for the hills and just let your father think you were dead to save yourself."

Jack flinched. "He might think that, but I wouldn't. Look, I really don't want you sticking your neck out for me any more than you already have."

"It isn't for you so much as it is for myself," Beau frowned. "I considered Snakes my friend. I want to know what's going on and if there's any way to convince him not to go through with it."

Jack shook his head. "You're insane if you think you have a chance."

"I've heard that before. Look after my horse, won't you? I'll pick him up at the hotel or wherever it is you're staying." Beau let go of the reins and moved to walk on ahead.

"I guess there's nothing I can do to convince you otherwise. Alright, he'll be at the hotel." Jack paused. "You know, I never got your name."

Beau half-turned. "Beau Maverick."

To his surprise, Jack's eyes widened. "Maverick? Are you any relation to a Bret Maverick?"

"Why, yes," Beau blinked. "He's my cousin."

That brought a smile. "He's one of the finest men I've ever met. I'm sure you're of the same high caliber."

Beau flushed. "Just stay safe and I'll talk to Snakes," he said, not really wanting to talk about himself.

Jack nodded. "I'll do what I can. Thank you, Beau Maverick."

Beau faded into the shadows, barely processing Jack's farewell. He was caught up in worried thoughts of Snakes and what could have happened in the weeks since they had bade each other Goodbye upon Bart's recovery.

Most people, Bret and Bart included, were concerned about Beau's affection for the crooked gambler and crime boss. Beau himself had taken some time to warm up to Snakes. But Bart's recovery from a serious stab wound had been long and grueling and Beau had had many opportunities to talk with Snakes during that time. He felt that he shared a certain understanding and kinship with the life-long outcast Snakes that his cousins did not. As the daring and adventurous and even courageous Maverick, the one who had been banished for five years because of inadvertently winning a medal during the War Between the States, Beau often felt detached from the rest of the family. Snakes had picked up on that, and although at first he had tried to manipulate Beau into joining him, he had given that up and instead had just made himself available if Beau wanted company or to talk. Even Bret had determined that Snakes had ended up honestly caring about Beau instead of persisting in a more subtle manipulation.

So Beau determined to still believe in Snakes now, no matter how bad it looked. If Snakes was involved, maybe Beau would be able to convince him to stop this plot. If not, well . . .

Beau heaved a sigh. He didn't want to think about that.

It wasn't hard finding the house in question; most of Bent Spoon's homes were much smaller and Snakes' stood out from all the rest. Beau slipped around the back way, as he had promised, and crept underneath the windows until he came to one with a light in it. Then he slowly rose, just enough to see into the room. When he caught sight of Snakes alone and leaning on the fireplace mantle with one arm, he perked up. Snakes looked upset or even conflicted; Beau wanted to believe that he did not want to do as his mysterious boss deemed necessary.

"Snakes!" Beau hissed, hoping he was loud enough to be heard through the window.

Snakes leaped a mile. "Huh?! What?!"

"Snakes, it's me, Beau Maverick!" Beau persisted. "I need to talk to you!"

Snakes cast a furtive glance over his shoulder at the closed door before he approached the window and raised the sash. "You're crazy coming here," he snapped. "If my men saw you . . . !"

"They'd shoot me down in cold blood?" Beau supplied as he climbed through the window.

"That isn't supposed to be the plan," Snakes said sullenly.

"And it isn't your plan at all, is it?" Beau pounced.

Snakes shut the window and pulled the curtains. "No, it isn't," he admitted. "I'm not the big boss; I answer to the chairman of the board."

"That makes it sound like your syndicate is a business," Beau remarked.

"That's what it is," Snakes said impatiently. "Look, Beau, I didn't want you hurt. As soon as my men came and told me they'd opened fire on Vandergelt riding into town, I feared the worst. Vandergelt's already in town, so someone riding in could only be you."

"But you didn't go outside to look," Beau frowned.

"They said you'd got away. I gave them a real chewing out, but I didn't mention that you look just like Vandergelt even though you aren't him." Snakes looked at Beau with fear in his eyes as well as desperation. "If I'd said that, they would've suggested taking you in his place, since he's proving so hard to catch."

"Oh Snakes." Beau sank down at the desk in the room. "What have you gotten yourself into? You're afraid of your own men now?"

"Nah, not really." Snakes plunked down on another chair, looking dejected and weary. "I'm just afraid of what they'll tell the chairman if I don't do exactly as I'm supposed to."

"They're supposed to be loyal to you, not him," Beau objected.

"Her," Snakes interjected with a dark smirk. "The chairman's a chairwoman."

Beau's eyes widened. "Oh. Well, regardless, they're not supposed to answer to her."

"She wants to make sure everyone is loyal. And maybe it's my imagination, but I think she's had her eye on me for some time as the weak link in her chain. It'd be just like her to pay my men to spy on me." Snakes propped himself up on the back of the chair.

Beau sighed. "The only way you could be a weak link to her is because you're too good a person to be in a situation like this. You were working with her when I first met you, but not when Bret first met you. How on Earth did it happen?"

Snakes shrugged helplessly. "She and her second-in-command were impressed with everything I'd managed to do, collecting towns and all, and she offered me a position on her board. I'm one of her six regional leaders."

Beau slumped back. "I think I'm in over my head. I know you are."

"I liked it better when I was my own boss," Snakes admitted, sounding a little bitter. "But her offer sounded pretty good to me when she made it, and like an idiot I walked into it. Now I can't get out." He ran a hand over his face. "And I don't know what to do about you or Vandergelt."

Beau watched him carefully. "What is it you're supposed to do with Vandergelt?"

"Take him in and hold him hostage until Mr. Vandergelt Senior agrees to help the syndicate." Snakes looked morosely across the room. "There wouldn't be any point in killing him; then his father would only be all the more adamant about not going along. His son's the only thing he has to lose besides his businesses."

"Alright then." Beau took a deep breath. "I'll try to think of something to help the Vandergelts and keep you out of hot water at the same time."

Snakes snarked. "There's nothing you could do unless you'd decide to play hostage, and I don't figure on you wanting the senior Vandergelt to fall in with organized crime."

"No, I don't," Beau said. "There has to be another way."

"Well, if you find it, Pal, let me know." Snakes got up from the chair. "I'm going to have a drink."

"Hmm? Oh. Yes, go ahead," Beau said with a distracted wave of his hand.

"You're still following the Maverick code of no alcohol, I'm guessing," Snakes said.

"Yes," Beau nodded. "It's really far more beneficial to not end up with hangovers. I see no purpose in that."

Snakes shrugged. "There's not. I try not to drink that much, unless there's extenuating circumstances.

"So what are you doing in Bent Spoon?" he asked as he poured a glass of wine from a decanter.

"Purely coincidental," Beau said. "You know us Mavericks: going anywhere on a whim, stopping at whatever little town is closest after night falls. . . ."

"Yeah, I know," Snakes grunted. He set the decanter aside and leaned on the cabinet, sipping the wine.

"How on Earth did this town come to be named Bent Spoon, anyway?" Beau exclaimed. "I've heard of a town in New Mexico called Bent Fork, but somehow that just doesn't sound as outlandish."

"Of course not, since a fork can also be a split path in the road," Snakes said sardonically. "A spoon is always just a piece of silverware. I think it got its name because the first guy to settle here sat on his spoon and bent it."

Beau winced. "I had to ask."

Snakes smirked but then sobered. "All this trouble aside, it's good to see you again, Beau. I can't say that about your cousin, but you, you're a different story."

"I feel the same about you, Snakes," Beau said. "And I think Cousin Bret is fond of you in spite of himself."

Snakes laughed. "I doubt it. He'd probably be ready to tan my hide if he knew the trouble you walked into by coming here."

That brought a sigh. It really was a terrible situation from all angles. What, Beau wondered, could they do?