Chapter 9 – Old Wounds
"Thanks for goin' up there with me."
Bret took a draw on his cigar and glanced at his father. "Did ya think I wouldn't?"
"I don't know, son. I don't seem to get anything right anymore."
Bret didn't know if his father actually felt that way or he was just trying to garner sympathy. Lily Mae had fixed an outstanding lunch, and when they were done, they adjourned to the porch to smoke. When Pappy issued the invitation to join him for lunch he'd told his son there were things he wanted to talk about; Bret was still waiting to hear anything from his father out of the ordinary. "I thought you wanted to talk to me about somethin'," Bret finally said.
Beau coughed and shifted in his chair, taking a long draw on his cigar. "Well, I did. I . . . . . look, I was awful hard on you about Althea. She's a good girl, and I didn't give her a chance. I guess I just didn't wanna see you leave here. I knew you weren't home to stay, but I was hopin' you'd be here longer than you were. The last thing your brother told me before he left was to spend some time with you, and he was right. I guess I've always left you pretty much on your own, but that wasn't because I didn't love you, son. That's because Bart was always in one kind of trouble or another, and he needed more a my time. Not because I loved him more, but because we came so close to losin' him so many times. Remember when you were seventeen, and he was mixed up in that robbery with Earnie and Fred?"
"He wasn't mixed up in it, Pappy."
Beau took another draw on his cigar and then fixed a meaningful look on his firstborn. "Yeah he was, Bret, and you know it. He told me about it, finally. And do you know the reason he didn't go through with it? You. He didn't want to disappoint you. Not me; you. You were a better father to him than I ever coulda been. I was so proud a you. You did what I couldn't do – you kept our almost delinquent boy from goin' off the rails. You took care a him when he was sick; you were his ma and pa when I didn't know how to be."
Beauregard laid his hand on Bret's arm. "I knew I didn't hafta worry about you doin' somethin' like that. You were so damn steady and dependable. I could always count on you. Many's the time you kept both of us on the straight and narrow. And my biggest regret is that your momma didn't live long enough to see what a fine man you are."
Bret was quiet for a long time and didn't say anything. On one hand, Pappy sounded honest and sincere, like he really meant everything he said. On the other, this WAS Beauregard Maverick. Finally Bret heaved a big sigh. It was the best he could do right now.
"Nothin' to say, son?"
"Yeah, I . . . . . . thanks for tellin' me all that, Pappy." 'Wish you'd told me a long time ago,' he thought but didn't say it. "It's a lot to think about." Bret threw the remains of his cigar out into the dirt and stood to go. It was passed three o'clock and time to get Althea from the Walker Ranch. "You still comin' over this week?"
Beau gazed up at his firstborn, standing so straight and tall in the afternoon sun. That was all he could manage to say after Beau poured his heart out? Maybe it was too late for them after all? "Yeah, I'll be there. Same time, around six?"
"Yeah, Pappy, six o'clock is fine. Thanks for lunch, and the company to visit Momma. I'm sure she was glad we were both there. I'll see you soon, alright?"
And before Beauregard could think of anything else to say, Bret was in the buggy and headed towards the Walker's. Beau sat on the porch for the longest time, after the dust the buggy kicked up had settled back down, and wondered what more he could do. Had he gotten one back just to lose the one he'd always counted on? Did Bret feel so abandoned that his only response was no response at all? He got up slowly from the rocker and walked inside, feeling old and alone. And if he was truly alone, he had no one to blame but himself.
XXXXXXXX
Winnie and Althea relaxed on the porch, rocking and drinking sweet tea. John and Jesse were out in the corral with their father, Will. Winnie had lost weight, and her eyes had an almost flat look to them, but she smiled as she talked. "How'd you get him to move in with you? He's resisted every effort to pin him down for years and years."
'I just asked him," Althea replied. "It took him long enough to make up his mind. I think Beauregard was pressuring him not to, but he finally did."
Winnie threw back her head and laughed. "That sounds like Beau. And how was he when you went for dinner?"
"Just as sweet as he could be. He really is a lovely man."
That elicited another laugh from Winnie. "A lovely man? I'll bet nobody's ever called Beauregard Maverick 'a lovely man' before. A lot of other things, though. Every child in the entire valley was scared to death of 'old man Maverick.' He had a look and a way of talking that put fear into your heart. Even when you'd done nothing wrong."
"Really?" Althea questioned. "Maybe when he was a younger man, but not now. He's been nothing but gracious and charming to me. Winnie, look at Jesse in the corral. What is he, three, four? And already on a horse like he's been there his whole life. I hope . . . . . . . " and her voice trailed off before she finished.
"You hope what, Althea? That you have one just like that? You countin' on Bret bein' the daddy? I wouldn't hold my breath for that. That boy was raised to believe that marriage preceded babies. And marriage may be down the road for him someday, but it sure isn't now. He hasn't led you to believe otherwise, has he?"
Althea stared down at her lap, where one hand was fidgeting nervously. "No. No Winnie, he hasn't. He's been real up front about that. I just hope he'll change his mind. I know he loves me."
Winnie was just a bit skeptical. This was one of the infamous marriage-shy Mavericks, after all. "Has he told you that? I mean, has he said the words?"
Althea couldn't believe that was even a question. "Of course he has."
Winnie was impressed. That was a lot further than he'd ever gotten with anyone else in town, including Mary Alice or Winnie herself. Maybe there was a chance for Althea. Just as Mrs. Neary was pondering this possibility, the man himself appeared driving Althea's buggy.
Althea searched his visage for some kind of indication about lunch. It didn't take long to determine that his poker face was in evidence and it would take some subtle questioning to establish the direction the afternoon visit with his father had taken. He pulled up in front of the house and hopped out of the buggy, taking the porch steps two at a time. "That's what I like to see," he told them. "Two of my favorite ladies enjoying a sunny Sunday afternoon."
"Pull up a chair, you juvenile delinquent, and have some sweet tea," Winnie laughed as she reached up to plant a kiss on his cheek.
"I'm sorry, you have me confused with my brother. I'm the straight and narrow boy. And that's funny as all get-out. Pappy and I were just discussing Bart's almost-participation in a life of crime."
"What?" Althea was shocked. "You mean the hopeless romantic was once a bad boy?"
"An almost bad boy," Bret answered. "He backed out before he could get into too much trouble. I think that's as close as he ever got to an actual crime. Well, at least when we were kids."
"Fred never said a word about that. Did he know anything about it?"
Bret nodded. "Yeah, Fred was involved in it, too. Bart's change-of-heart kept Fred out of trouble. I don't think they were real proud a that episode. There was a third kid involved, and he went ahead with the plan. It got him killed."
Dead silence followed until Winnie finally asked, "The saloon hold-up in Claytonville? Where Earnie Night got shot? They were involved in that?"
Bret laughed a little and shook his head. "Almost involved in that. Bart and Fred declined to participate at the last minute and Earnie went ahead with it."
"We all wondered about that," Winnie explained. "Fred and Earnie and Bart were such close friends; we all had trouble believing that Earnie tried to pull a job like that without the other two. But there was no evidence implicating them."
"That's because they backed out. Didn't make any sense to hold 'em responsible for somethin' they didn't do."
Winnie nodded knowingly. "Earnie was just trouble waitin' for a place to happen. Given enough time he'd of tried something else."
"Fred and Bart were so petrified by Earnie's gettin' shot that they weren't ever tempted again. So just remember that; I was not involved."
Winnie reached over and patted Bret's arm. "Okay, Mr. Good Boy. Now, how about that tea?"
"No thanks, Winnie. I'm full a coffee."
Althea was a little shaken by the revelations but tried to laugh it off. "You're always full of coffee. We should go, Winnie. It's getting late. Ooooh, look, now it's Johnny's turn on the horse. He doesn't look near as happy about it as Jesse did." All three looked to the corral just in time to see Will remove Johnny, who was now crying, from the mare. Johnny made a run for his mother as Will lifted Jesse back up on the horse. "Mommmmmmmyyyy," Johnny cried as he scooted under the corral fence and straight across the yard to his mother on the porch. "Mommy, don't like horsey," Johnny continued to cry as his mother picked him up and comforted him.
"Uh-oh, a banker in the making," Bret remarked as he tried not to laugh. Meanwhile, Jesse was having a fine time riding for his father. "There's your next ranch owner," he added, pointing to Jesse. Then he turned his head back towards Althea and offered his hand to help her up from the chair.
Althea reached down and patted Winnie's knee; she could barely be heard over Johnny's wailing. "I'll see you on Saturday," then kissed the top of the little boy's head. His crying descended into small sobs as he decided sitting on Mama's lap wasn't so bad after all.
Bret escorted Althea to the buggy and helped her up, then waved at Will, who was beaming like a proud papa. Will and Jesse waved back, and Bret was reminded of the first time Pappy had put him on a horse. His reaction was far closer to Jesse's than Johnny's. And Bart, well Bart was absolutely in heaven when he sat his first mount. 'There I go again,' Bret thought, 'remembering it all together. Do I have a single memory that doesn't have my brother in it?' It took a minute before he thought about Mary Alice. That didn't involve Bart at all. Well, not much.
He was brought back to the present when Althea asked, as they pulled away from the ranch, "How was your visit with Beauregard?" He made an odd face and she continued, "That good?"
"Well, I'll tell ya . . . . . . . ."
