Chapter 6 – Secrets and Lies

"I'm surprised, Bart. You changed your life completely around – don't you think I might have wanted to change mine?"

That was the question that kept playing in my head when we adjourned to the parlor. No matter how much I doubted Dandy wanting to change his life, there was always the possibility that he'd decided to do just that. As he pointed out, I'd changed mine. This one was worth thinking about.

"When did you start writing to Doralice?"

Once again, Mrs. Murtaw brought us coffee. James waited until she'd poured for us and left the room before answering. "I didn't 'start writing' to her. I wrote to her twice – once right after I met Janet and was considering asking for her hand in marriage, and again after I lost her. That was the only communication I had with your wife."

"Did she answer you?"

"The briefest of notes before we wed. Not much more than 'congratulations.' After Janet died, she wrote a lengthy letter of condolence. It was quite sweet, actually, and comforting. I believe I still have it if you'd like to read it."

Dandy being sentimental? Was that even possible? Maybe he really had changed. I still wasn't convinced.

"So tell me about yourself. It doesn't look like you're still running the saloon."

"Actually I am. I only go into town about once a week. I've got a real good Saloon Manager, been with me a long time. He handles all the day to day things."

"And the rest of your time? A life of leisure, perhaps?"

That made me laugh. "Bret and me, we've got a horse-breeding ranch. The B Bar M. We cross-breed pure-blooded Arabians with most anything. Been at it quite a while now. But it's anything but a life of leisure."

"Still in Little Bend?"

I shook my head. "A few miles out. Beau got married and moved to Baton Rouge, and eventually Uncle Ben went to live with him. Bret and me bought Ben's old place and built the ranch."

"Ah, yes. How is old Brother Bret? Still as difficult as ever?"

"If you mean is Bret still Bret, the answer would be yes. He still goes off to play poker now and again, but mostly he's happy being at the ranch."

"Did he ever marry that Pinkerton agent?" There was a tone in Dandy's voice that I couldn't quite identify.

"You mean Ginny Malone? Yeah, they got married. They've got three delightful children . . . I guess they're still young enough to be called children. Two boys and a girl."

"And you, my friend? What about you and that beautiful woman?"

"Still together, after all this time. We raised five of our own."

"Five? You and Doralice had five?"

I poured myself another cup of coffee, Dandy waved any more off. "Three girls and two boys. The two oldest girls are twins."

"You've been busy, old man." I noticed that the familiar had changed from 'old boy' to 'old man.'

"I have been. And it's been a good life, Jim. Sometimes . . . " That was as far as I could go.

"Sometimes what?"

"Sometimes I wished you'd been in it."

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It wasn't long after that Mrs. Murtaw came in to retrieve what was left of the coffee and remind Jim it was time to retire. I pulled out my watch and looked at it . . . it was only ten o'clock. "He needs his rest," she informed me, but before she could wheel him away he issued another invitation.

"Lunch, tomorrow. Say, one o'clock? Is that acceptable, Mrs. Murtaw?" He asked her laughingly, almost like a small boy would ask his mother.

"As long as you have your nap before lunch," came the quick reply.

"One o'clock then, Bart? Unless you have something else planned?"

"One o'clock is fine, Jim. But I feel odd – you keep feeding me."

"It's easier this way," Mrs. Murtaw explained. "He does go out, but not that often. Usually on Friday nights, that's when Katie McCluskey's has what they call Prime Rib for dinner."

"Yes, and that's only two days from now. Can I count on your company, Bart? Will you still be in Grand Junction?"

There was no doubt in my mind that I would still be here. "I will be, and I'll be happy to accompany you. As long as you let me pay for dinner."

"If you insist. Don't forget, now. Tomorrow at one o'clock for lunch. Take me away, Mrs. Murtaw."

And I watched as she wheeled him out of the parlor and down another hallway. I saw myself out and headed back to the hotel. I didn't understand the man in the wheelchair any better than I had when I got there.

XXXXXXXX

After breakfast the next morning I headed for the offices of the Grand Junction Herald, the town's newspaper. With some help from one of the employees, I pulled seven or eight different editions from the last two years. I found a small story about Janet going to Denver for some training, then an even smaller story announcing that Miss Janet Stinson and Mr. James Buckley had been married in Denver.

There was a much larger spread when the newlyweds returned to Grand Junction. Janet was interviewed, and there was even a description of Jim and a quote from the bridegroom. "I never thought this would happen to me. Janet is so perfect in every way . . . I look forward to a long and happy married life."

The next thing I found was a full column regarding the death of Janet Buckley and the Buckley baby. There was nothing about Jim; no description, no quotes, nothing at all. Exactly one week later there was an announcement that the bereaved widower had left town and the little house would be up for sale when he returned.

There had been two or three articles regarding the effort to build a new school, and the fund-raising involved. The headline some three months later read: Funding Complete Thanks to James Buckley. The story went on the explain that Buckley had returned to town and brought with him enough money to complete building the school, to be named the Janet Buckley Grand Junction Elementary School.

There was one more article in the paper, the week after the new school's dedication. It spoke about the building and completion and lauded Mr. Buckley for his undying dedication to his wife's dream of a new school. Everything I read agreed completely with the stories Jake Bosworth and Jim told me. Why did I have a feeling there was something missing, something that wasn't explained by the newspaper articles?

"Is that it?" I asked the girl that had assisted me before.

"That's all I have, except for this one little article. But it doesn't mention Mr. Buckley, just Janet."

I glanced at it quickly. It was about a two-week trip that Janet had taken to Denver. The paper said she'd gone to attend some kind of state-mandated teacher's education class. Jim hadn't mentioned that, but then why should he?

I was at a loss. Was I letting my prejudice and resentment color my judgment? Was everything really as it seemed? Was I conjuring up problems where there were none? Maybe I was just trying to put off the inevitable. . . the reason I'd come to Grand Junction. To confront Dandy Jim Buckley about the shabby way he'd treated my helping hand all those years ago.