Chapter 10 – That's What Friends are For

"I'm not sure," Bret told Althea, in answer to her question of "How was your visit with Beauregard?" "He's got . . . . . he said . . . . . he wants . . . . . I don't know. I don't know what he wants from me, Althea."

"What did you talk about?"

"Me. And him. And Bart. And why he did some of the things he did."

"Just normal father-son things?"

"Believe me, there's nothin' normal about Beauregard Maverick."

She looked puzzled. "I don't understand, Bret. What did you talk about?"

"I don't understand either, and I was there. Can we just forget about it for now? I need to think about this for a while."

"If you want to, certainly." She was just as puzzled right now as Bret was. What in the world could the subject have been that was so confusing? She was beginning to realize that this family of simple poker players was a whole lot more complicated than it appeared on the surface.

The buggy drove on in silence until they'd just about gotten home. Then Bret finally spoke up. "I need to go play some poker tonight, Althea. I don't know when I'll be home."

"Alright. Do you want supper first?" It would be the first time he was gone at night since he'd moved in with her.

"No. I'm not hungry. I just wanna think."

"And you can do that while you're playin' poker?"

"Yeah."

When they reached the Taylor Ranch Bret pulled up and helped Althea out and into the house. He led the horse and buggy over to the barn and unhitched them, then saddled his gelding and mounted. He left for Little Bend without saying another word, or even telling Althea he was leaving. Whatever his father said to him was undoubtedly weighing heavily on his mind, and she wondered if she'd helped or hurt things with her questions. It would be late Monday morning before she saw him again, and when she did she wasn't certain whether anything had been resolved or not.

He wasn't sure why he had to get out of the house and away from Althea; he just knew he had to. He kept going over everything Pappy had told him and coming to the same conclusion – Pappy had a guilty conscience and wanted to unburden himself.

He rode into Little Bend and went straight to Maude's, hoping that the lady herself would be at the saloon. She was and was pleased to see him. "Well come on in, stranger!" she called when she saw him in her doorway. "What's brought you to town?"

He walked in and closed her door, then took a chair in front of her desk. "Beauregard Maverick."

She stared intently at his face, then pulled the brandy bottle and two glasses out of her desk drawer. After pouring both glasses, she handed one to Bret and he took it and drank it straight down, then passed the glass back to her. She filled it again and he did the same thing, handing it back to her once more. She filled it the third time and he set it on the desk in front of him. "Well, that musta been a hell of a visit," Maude offered.

"You knew about it?" he questioned her.

"Yes, sir," she nodded back to him. "Beauregard and I have become quite good friends. He told me the last time he came in that he was gonna talk to you."

"That he did. Talk to me, I mean. But I'll be damned if I know why."

"I hear you got a new home with a lady in it. Why are you sittin' in my office talkin' to me?"

He picked up the brandy glass and took a swallow. "Maude, you know Pappy. Althea doesn't, not really. She asked me if we talked about normal father-son things. Ha! As if Beauregard would ever talk about normal things with anybody, much less one of his sons."

"That's not true, honey. He talked about a lot of just that kinda thing with Handsome before he left town."

"With Bart? You call the story my Pappy told my brother normal?"

"For Beauregard Maverick, yup. Completely normal. Your father is a most, uh . . . . . unusual gentleman."

"That's a quaint way of saying that he's a rapscallion of the first order."

Maude suppressed a laugh. "I think 'unusual gentleman' puts things in a better light."

"Why, Maude? Why did he wait until now to tell me that he . . . . . that he regrets some of the things he did?"

"Such as?"

"Pushin' me aside to pay attention to Bart. Because 'we came so close to losin' him so many times.' Like I don't know that. I raised him, for God's sake, Maude. Now he wants to tell me he loves me just as much as he loves my brother? And I'm supposed to just smile and nod my head and tell him everything's okay? Where was his concern all those years when I thought the only reason he was there at all for me was because he had nowhere else to go?" Bret got up from the chair and walked in circles around the room, something he only did when he was beside himself and didn't know what else to do.

"Honey, we all make mistakes, and your Pappy's no different than any other human bein'. He's messed up plenty in his life, and he knows it. But it sounds to me like he's tryin' to make it right, both with your brother and you. What are you really mad about?"

He walked around in one more circle and sat back down. Maude went to pour his glass full again but he waved her off. For the very first time since she'd met him he was on the verge of being out-of-control. 'Maybe that's what he needs,' she reasoned, but said nothing.

It was almost five full minutes before he answered her. "I don't know, Maude. I don't know. Maybe that's what bothers me so much. I can't quite put my finger on it."

"Would it help if your brother was here?"

He shook his head then. "I don't think so. I think this part of it is just between me an Pappy." Slowly he realized what she meant. "You know where he is, don't you?"

"Yup. He stopped by here fore he left town. Told me where he was headed."

Bret nodded slowly. "Good. I'm glad he didn't leave without tellin' somebody."

"You playin' poker tonight?"

"No, ma'am. I wouldn't after drinkin'. I'm goin' . . . . . . back to Althea's."

"Anything else you need to get off your chest?" He shook his head 'no' but continued to sit at her desk, just staring into space. Maude had work to do, and much as she enjoyed his company she knew it wasn't going to get done as long as he sat there. "Okay, gamblin' man. You take care a yourself, you hear?"

"Thanks, Maude. And thanks for listenin'. I'll figure it all out."

"I know you will, Bret. Come back an see me when you do."

"Sure."

"Thanks, Bart."

And they were both laughing as he left her office and the saloon.