Chapter 10 – Got Your Back, Jack
It was much noisier inside the house than outside, and that was saying a lot. Everybody seemed to be talking, and no one appeared to be listening. The only reason Julie answered the knock on the door was because she was leaning up against it at the time.
She said something but neither one could hear what. She motioned them to follow her and she led the way into the kitchen, where it was a bit quieter, and repeated herself. "Would you like some coffee?"
Both men nodded, and she handed them each a cup before picking up the coffee pot and filling them. "I'm goin' upstairs until this settles down," she leaned over and told Bart, who smiled and watched her leave. She had her long hair pulled back in a ponytail and it made for an excellent view as she walked away. Tonight she had on a pair of tight fitting jeans, and Bart appreciated the scenery.
The brothers wandered back into the front room, which had men sitting on every piece of furniture they could. Slowly the dull roar began to die down, and when he could be heard without shouting Lee stood up.
"Gentlemen – For those of you that weren't here this mornin' – this is Bret and Bart Maverick, as they are currently known. It's our job to determine exactly what supplies we wish for them to procure, and their job to do the procurin'."
A low murmur went up from the group. "Whatever we want?" somebody yelled out.
"Whatever your money'll buy that we can get," Bret answered.
"What can't you get?" somebody else asked.
"What is it you want?" Bart interjected. As long as Julie was upstairs he was going to give the meeting his full attention.
That question set off another round of discussion within the group, and all sorts of answers were heard. "Gatling guns." "Cannons." "Spencer carbines." "Winchester rifles." "Smith & Wesson anything." "Colt revolvers."
"Seems everybody has a different idea," Bret stated. "Y'all need to agree on things first. We didn't come all this way just to listen to arguin'."
"Aw, let 'em argue, Geoff – ah, Bret. Everybody wants his say," Bart suggested, letting the 'Geoff' slip out so naturally that nobody questioned it.
"Alright, quiet down," Maxwell insisted. "Bret's got a point. I want two different groups here. One's for big guns, the others for sidearms. Big guns over there," and he pointed to the far corner. "Sidearms on this end." Men got up and started moving around; Bret found an empty chair and sat. Bart stepped back out into the kitchen and poured another cup of coffee. Slowly he realized that Julie had come downstairs and was standing beside him.
"They always this argumentative?" he asked the girl.
"So far," she replied. "That's why it's taken them so long to agree on anything. I'm not sure they ever will."
"They better, or Bret'll lose interest pretty fast."
"Short attention span?" Julie asked with a smile.
"Doesn't like indecision," Bart answered. "Neither do I."
"Good to know."
Suddenly two voices could be heard above all the others, and they were arguing loudly.
"Don't need nothin' that big."
"Yes, ya do. Them little peas-shooters ain't gonna do no good."
"Whatta you know about fightin'?"
"I's in the war, same as you."
"That don't mean you know nothin'."
"I know I ain't sure about those two – what'd Lee call 'em? Mavericks? What proof we got they're really Radsons? What if they're imposters? Fakes?"
"You worry too much, Willie. They're the Radsons. Why wouldn't they be?"
Bart looked down at Julie. "Scuse me for a minute," he told the girl, and walked over to the doorway. He pulled out his gun and fired off a round into the air, and all noise ceased immediately. "Play nice, boys," he told everybody. "I ain't killed nobody yet this year, but yer sure temptin' me." Bart deliberately let the Texas twang sound in his voice, and Bret looked at him in a panic for just a minute – then settled back down, just like the crowd. "That's better," Bart added for effect and turned back to Julie. "Now, ma'am, you were sayin'?"
XXXXXXXX
"Why?" Bret asked as they were riding back to town.
"Why what?" Bart responded.
"Why the commotion?"
"Because that's what Henry woulda done."
"How'd ya know that?"
Bart grinned. "Let's just say I did a little research of my own."
"You got a reason?" Bret asked, more than a little frustrated with the disturbance that seemed to have come out of nowhere.
"Yeah, I thought it might be nice to keep you alive."
The night was dark with no moon out, and Bret couldn't see his brother's face, so he had no idea whether Bart was serious. Bret had been on the other side of the room and hadn't heard the conversation Bart heard. "What are you talkin' about?"
Bart pulled Noble up short and stood still, and Bret followed suit with his stallion. Bart's voice was quiet, stern and severe; he didn't sound that way often, but when he did his brother usually paid attention. "You're playin' a dangerous game, Bret, and I wanted to make sure there's no doubt that our name's Radson an not Maverick. Henry's got a temper, and he wouldn't let nobody ride roughshod over his brother. Neither will I. You're not the only one that can be protective, ya know." And then he chuckled a little, and he sounded more like himself when he spoke again. "Just tryin' to make believers' outta anybody that mighta had doubts."
"Were there some? That had doubts, I mean." Bret hadn't heard any, but there were plenty of moments when it was almost impossible to hear anything.
Bart's voice was softer now, thinking that he'd been a little too serious with his previous answer. "Yeah, there were a couple back around me that were mouthin' off and arguin'. They were startin' to attract attention, and we didn't need that. So I decided to shut 'em up."
It finally made sense to the older brother, and even Bret chuckled a little. "You did that, alright. They behaved like perfect gentlemen after you scared the daylights outta them."
Bart urged Noble forward again and Bret followed. Bart had apparently been paying more attention than he had. 'I wonder,' Bret thought. 'I wonder if he could have gone and talked to the Rangers, too?' Would Bart have done that and not told him? "Bart, where did ya go on that walk?"
"What, the one today? Told ya, I just walked around town."
"No, ya didn't. Where did ya go?"
"Why?"
"Because I need to know."
Bart sighed. "Alright, if ya must know, I went to the newspaper office and read some past articles about the Radsons."
"That's it?"
"Where else would I go?"
That was a good question, and Bret pondered it for a while before he said anything else. They were almost back to town when he finally spoke again.
"Bart?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for havin' my back."
"I always have your back, Bret, even when it may seem otherwise."
"I know. Thanks."
They were at the livery, and both brothers dismounted. Bart took the reins out of Bret's hands. "Go find yourself a poker game. You been itchin' for one all night."
"Thanks, little brother. I will."
"Little brother," Bart mumbled. "Oh well, I asked for it."