Chapter 6 – Crash and Fall

It was a restless night, to say the least. I had dreams that I wouldn't want to repeat to anyone, and once again the old standard popped up – only this time it was Doralice that came in the front door and took Tenley's bullet. I could see the casket in the grave, and all the babies were there. We were in the Maverick graveyard.

That one woke me up, and it took a while for me to go back to sleep. I was determined to avoid facing the truth as long as possible, so I was not happy when I heard a familiar voice calling my name. The voice kept calling until I opened my eyes and looked up. It was Brother Bret, and he was sitting about ten feet away from me, next to the fire he'd made. "Coffee's on," he announced and began to pour a cup. "You want one?"

"Yes," I answered and crawled out from underneath the blanket. "Doralice?"

"Holding her own. How about you? How are you holdin' up?"

"As well as can be expected. How'd you find me?"

He chuckled as he handed me the steaming coffee. God, it smelled good. "I was a tracker in the army, remember?"

"I had to get out of there, Bret. I started thinkin', what if Simon was right? What if she was dyin'? And I couldn't stay there one more second. And I did what I usually do . . . I ran."

Bret sounded kind of subdued like he had somethin' to tell me but didn't want me to know. "Feel better this morning?"

"Yes and No. I don't know what to believe."

"Simon came back last night. Not too long after you left."

"He was probably glad that I'd gone."

"He wants you to come back."

By this time I'd gotten off the ground and started to resaddle Baron. At Bret's pronouncement, I turned around. "I'm comin' back, Bret. I just had to put some space between me and Simon's insistence that she was dyin', that's all."

Bret had put out the fire and waited for me to walk Baron over to where he stood before mounting. He still had an odd look on his face, and as I turned to say something to him, he grabbed me by the shoulders. "The family's sent for the minister, son."

"The minister?" My head was blank. "What for?"

"To perform last rites for her."

I heard the words, and that's all I heard. I didn't pass out, but the only thing holding me up was Bret's iron grip on my shoulders. My legs shook and I couldn't breathe. I thought I'd suffocate. "Tell me . . . tell me you're wrong. Tell me anything but that. Oh God, not that." And his grip finally gave way, and I sagged to the ground.

Before I knew what was happening, Bret was on the ground with me, his strong arms around me, and I was leaning into him and sobbing. Sobbing like one of my little girls. And I didn't care.

When a Maverick sends for a minister, there's only two reasons – to get married or to die. Gettin' married is self-explanatory; dyin' somethin' else. "Who sent for the minister, Bret?" Long minutes passed, and I still got no answer, so I asked again. "Who sent for the minister?"

His reply told all. "Pappy."

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Bret let me handle the realization that even Pappy believed Doralice was actually dying my own way. I sat up straight and wiped my nose on Bret's handkerchief, then turned to my brother. "I gotta go home. I might believe Simon but I ain't gonna let her go without a fight. And that means no last rights from the minister now."

Slowly I got to my feet, and Bret stood with me. "You alright now?"

"No, I'm not alright, but I'm not as upset as I was. I'm sure Pappy thinks he's doin' the right thing, but it's not his call to make. Has she gotten worse since I left?"

"Not according to Simon. She's the same as she was when the Reverend had a big pow-wow with Pa, and this is the decision that came out of it."

"And they waited until I was gone to pursue it."

"Don't be too hard on him, Bart, he was only tryin' to do what he thought would hurt you the least."

I shook my head. "I know. But I don't care how much it hurts me, I'll fight it to the last breath. Let's go home and see if anything has changed. " I nudged Baron forward with my heels and we took off for home. Bret quickly followed.

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By the time we got home, it was almost mid-morning, and there was no sign of the reverend's buggy.

I left Baron with Bret and hurried inside. I don't think I've ever heard the house that still. I slipped down the hall quietly and into the bedroom. She lay there, still in the middle of the bed, looking just as she had when I left yesterday. So peaceful, just as beautiful as the day I first saw her, I couldn't believe this woman was dying. And deep down, I still didn't.

I sat in the chair next to the bed and watched her breathe. I must have been there twenty or thirty minutes before I heard the horse outside. That must be the reverend. I steeled myself for the confrontation that was coming.

It took another ten minutes before the door opened. Reverend Miller walked in with Pappy and Maude. I stood and moved the chair out of the way, then stood my ground. I was surprised when I heard the door on the other side of the room open, and I turned my head to see who was coming in. It was Bret. It looked like Big Brother had come to offer me support. My head swiveled back toward the front door. "Reverend Miller. Pappy. Maude."

"I suppose you know why we're here, Bartley."

"I do, Pappy. You want the reverend here to give Doralice, my wife, last rites. Is that about it?"

Maude spoke up. "It's what she would want, Bart. It's what I want."

"Bullshit, Maude. Sorry, Reverend. It may be what you want, but it would never be what Dorsalice wants. You didn't see her down in Mexico, when she was full of filth, in chains and with welts and sores all over her. I never saw anybody that wanted to live as much as she did. And she's not givin' up now. She'd fight to the last breath to stay alive, and since she can't tell you that herself, I'm tellin' you for her. There'll be no last rites given here tonight, or any other night, as long as there's breath in her body. I'm sorry they got you out here for nothin', Reverend, but that's the way it is."

Pappy turned to Reverend Miller and started to say something; the Reverend stopped him."No, Beauregard, he's right. She's his wife. It's up to him to make the decision. I'm sorry, Bartley if my coming out here has caused you any upset or distress. When you are ready to see me, send somebody for me."

The minister turned and left the bedroom, never looking back. Pappy said no more; neither did Maude, and they left the room in an awful hurry.

"I see you didn't need me, little brother," Bret's voice echoed thru the room.

"No, but I was sure glad to know you were there," I answered.

"What do we do now?"

"We wait."