Chapter 9 – Baby Steps
"LeRoy Donovan? Any relation?"
Cristian nodded. "Maude's brother-in-law; Luther's younger brother. He was just a kid when Maude and Luther were married. She had no idea it was LeRoy that got drunk and rowdy in the saloon. Since we were out of town his name never came up when the sheriff told us about what happened."
"What triggered the revelation today?"
"I don't know." The attorney looked as perplexed as I felt. "Must have been something, but Parker never said, and I didn't think to ask. Seems awful suspicious to find out now, doesn't it?"
"I should say so. Maude hasn't heard from LeRoy in all these years?"
"Not a word. She tried to find him once or twice after Luther died, but never had any luck. How ironic that he finally shows up when we're out of town."
That threw a whole new light on things, and made me more certain than ever that I needed to go to Dodge City. "Thanks for the information, Cristian. Go take care of that telegram. I've got a stage coach to catch."
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"An uncle? That was my Uncle LeRoy that tried to kill you?"
One more unexpected blow in this never-ending nightmare that seemed to be plaguing the Donovan's. "Unfortunately," was the only answer I could give Doralice. "You understand why I have to go to Dodge?"
She nodded. "I can't say that I like it, but I understand it." She was silent for a minute while I threw some clothes in my warbag. "You know, when I was bein' drug across Mexico to be hanged, I kept thinkin' that what little life I had left to me would probably be easier if I just gave up, and gave the Captain what he wanted." What he'd wanted, of course, was Doralice. "But somehow I couldn't. Somethin' kept me fighting, holdin' out for a hero, I guess. And then you came along, with that phony badge and that cocky walk. And somewhere along the way back to Texas I found what I was lookin' for." She paused for a moment. "And I never did tell you, but you're still my hero. And I still need you. So you be careful, and come back to me, no matter what you find in Dodge. Cause you're always gonna be my hero."
She put her arms around my neck and kissed me, and it was the sweetest, most tender kiss she'd ever given me. And I hurried and finished packing, because if I didn't leave right now I wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.
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Stagecoach to train to stagecoach again, and four days later I was in Dodge City, Kansas. It didn't look like it had changed much since the last time I'd been there, and I gathered my bag and headed straight for the marshal's office.
Sandy Nash was the marshal, and he was about my age. I introduced myself and offered to buy him breakfast so that I could explain why I was there without being interrupted. He agreed, and we went to the Dodge House for a private conversation.
"And that's the whole story, at least as far as I know it."
He took another sip of coffee before replying. "That's quite some tale, Mr. Maverick."
"Bart, please, marshal."
"I'm not promising anything, but we can go back to the office and check the records. Our last two marshals have been real thorough about keepin' old reports, especially about somethin' that would have been as newsworthy as that gun fight."
"Is the Dodge City Herald still in business?"
Nash nodded. "It is."
"Mary Clennon still own it?" Now I was going back in time, to when I was sure that Brother Bret had been shot, killed, and buried in Dodge on Boot Hill.
"You mean Mary Hillis? No, she and Chris sold the paper and left for California about three years ago."
That answered my question and I smiled. Chris Hillis had been marshal and Mary had owned and run the newspaper, and when me and Bret left Dodge it looked like the two of them would end up together. I was pleased to hear they had.
"If you don't mind, I'll go back to your office with you and see what you can find."
I followed him back to the jail, and he spent the next three hours lookin' through the old reports. Just when we were both about to give up he found what he was lookin' for, and it was a whole lot more detailed than the newspaper report had been. For the first time I had at least partial physical descriptions of Luther Donovan and Sam Winston.
I thanked Marshal Nash for his help and the information and made my way to the Herald's offices. There I was lucky enough to locate two follow-up stories to the brief clipping that was sent to Maude, and I wrote down all the pertinent details that hadn't appeared in the one she received.
I had almost three hours until the stage left, and there was something that I needed to do. I rented a horse from the livery and rode out to Boot Hill. In the time since I'd been there last, the cemetery size had more than doubled. It took me some time, but I found the grave Bret was supposedly buried in. The marker on the grave simply said 'Unknown,' and I remembered the first time I'd seen it when it read 'Bret Maverick.' One more time I closed my eyes and whispered thanks that my brother was alive and not buried in that plot of ground.
I made my way back to town and waited for the stage. All I had to do was get back to Little Bend in time for the hearing.