Chapter 1 – Going Somewhere?

"You sure this is gonna be alright?" That question came from the older brother, Bret.

"Perfectly fine. They've both got around six weeks to go before the babies are born. They'll be fine." The answer came from the younger brother, Bart.

They were the Maverick Brothers, Bret and Bart, and had been professional poker players most of their lives. They were involved in horse breeding at this point in their careers, but both still played poker when the spirit moved them, and the spirit had been doin' some mighty big suggesting recently. Of course, there was a big difference between the prospective daddies.

Bart and his wife Doralice, who ran the biggest and best saloon in Little Bend, Texas, were waiting on baby number five. Bret and his wife Ginny, who worked as a Regional Director of the Pinkerton Detective Agency, were expecting their first child. Well, sort of their first child. Bret and Ginny had taken in baby Grace Louise when their good friends, her mother and father, died within a few days of each other, and never looked back. Grace resembled Bret so much that few people knew she wasn't their biological child. Thus the nervousness in the older brother and the calm, casual air in the younger.

"How can you be so hastiado (blasé) about it?" Bret was having a difficult time with some of the things his younger brother handled so naturally.

"I wasn't when the twins were born. You have to remember we've been through this before. Many times. You get used to it."

"That's easy for you to say," Bret mumbled under his breath.

"Calm down, Pappy. If you'd rather not go, we can wait until six or seven months from now. Or cancel the trip altogether. Whatever works best for you."

"No, no, I wanna go, and Ginny's practically pushin' me out the door. Says I'm drivin' her crazy. Do they always get like this?"

Bart burst out laughing. "Get used to it, big brother. You didn't really think you were in charge at home or anyplace else, did you?"

Bret shrugged. "You coulda warned me."

A shake of the head. "Not a chance. This is somethin' you needed to experience for yourself. You'll live through it." Bart poured himself another cup of coffee. They were standing at the bar at Maude's, the saloon that Bart and Doralice owned. They were supposed to leave for San Antonio at any time, but they were still drinking coffee and debating the merits of a last-minute getaway right before they both became fathers (again).

"Well, if we're goin', let's go. Before I change my mind."

Bart slapped his brother on the back. "You can change your mind all you want, Bret. If you were to walk back in that house right now, Ginny'd throw you out on your ear."

Doralice came out of her office just then, humming a tune and sniffing the air. "Still drinkin' that stuff, my love?" she asked Bart, and he nodded happily.

"Sorry it bothers you so much," he told her.

"Ginny's the lucky one. Bret doesn't know what it's like to have a wife that can't drink coffee anymore. For her sake, I hope it stays that way."

"I don't know how you stand behind this bar as many hours as you do," Bret told his sister-in-law. "I have to walk Grace at night when she cries – Ginny can't stay on her feet that long."

"It gets easier," Doralice replied. "Where is she, by the way? I thought she'd be here to send you boys off and wish you well."

"I'm here, I'm here!" A familiar voice called as a very large, very round Ginny Malone Maverick more or less waddled in, balancing a nine-month-old gurgling bundle of black hair on her left hip. "Tell me again why I thought this was a good idea," she laughed as she temporarily handed Bret his daughter. "Been askin' for her daddy ever since we left the house."

Grace lit up like a little Christmas tree as soon as she saw Bret. "Pa . . . pa . . . pap."

"Close enough, baby girl," he murmured to her as he kissed her on the nose. She squealed, like she always did.

"I'll take her now," Ginny reached out for her daughter.

"No, you won't," Bret insisted. "I'm gonna be gone for a few days. Leave us alone."

"That's disgusting, isn't it?" Bart asked his wife.

"Who do you think he learned it from?" Doralice was quick to reply. "Ginny, you here to stay with me for a while?"

"You sure you still want me here? I promise to be nothing but trouble."

"I've got four babies and one more on the way. You couldn't be any trouble if you tried. Your wagon out front?"

"It is."

"Bartley, honey . . . "

Bart chuckled. "I know, go unload the wagon before me and Bret leave for San Antoine. Yes, ma'am." He turned to his older brother. "Come on, Pappy, your arms ain't broken."

The two men left, laughing and harassing each other unmercifully. Bret handed the baby to Ginny on his way out, and she reached out both tiny hands and did her best to grab on to her father, all the while trying desperately to gurgle "Pappy."

"God help us if we get another one just like her," Ginny asserted.

"Nope, you won't. That's a boy in there. You got a name picked out yet?"

"Bartley Joseph, what else?"

"Bart may never forgive you for that. He likes 'Bart,' but he's always hated 'Bartley.' Can't talk you into anything else, can I?"

"Not a chance, Doralice. Bret's dead set on it. Says he's been waiting years to have a son named after his brother, and nothin' on earth is gonna change his mind. Even if it's a girl."

The women were still laughing as Bret and Bart returned. "Oh, dear, I think we're in trouble. Again. Maybe we should get outta here before they change their minds and make us stay."

"Worse yet, they could make us have the babies," Bart volunteered.

"Just how hard could that be?" Bret asked innocently.

"Run!" Bart yelled at the top of his lungs. "Run for your life!" He grabbed Doralice and kissed her, heading for the horses tied outside. In one smooth movement he jumped on his stallion's back, grabbed a handful of mane and chucked "giddup." Bret was right behind him.