Chapter 11 – I'm Not Stupid

"Ben, you alright?"

Bentley Maverick nodded his head and sat down. "Yeah," was about all there was to say. Bret kicked the gun away from Slade's hand and sat with his uncle, thankful that Ben still carried the derringer he'd used to stop the secessionist.

"Thanks, Uncle Ben," Bret told him as he removed the now-empty derringer from Bentley's hand.

"Crazy man," Ben murmured. "Did he think he could just shoot you?"

"It wasn't just Bret, dear fellow," Buckley interjected. "He told me he intended to kill me, too. And all the Mavericks."

Jack Templeton came through the front door with his lieutenant Brady Clark close behind. "Well, you seem to have the situation under control, Maverick."

"Not me," Bret answered. "Uncle Ben."

The ranger bent down and turned the body over. "Ah, our friend Slade. Clark, I would imagine the doctor's rooms are all full right now. Take the body – "

The exam room door opened and Beauregard stood in the doorway, in a shirt with the right sleeve ripped off. He didn't look too bad for a man that had been shot earlier in the day. "He can have my room," Pappy interrupted. "I'm done with it. Can somebody please get me a new shirt and a coat that's not ruined?"

"I'll go, Pappy," Bret volunteered, and told Templeton as he left the doctor's, "No questions until I get back, alright?" He hurried out and up the street to the hotel. After getting the key from the front desk clerk, Bret went to Beau and Ben's room to procure the required clothing. Upon taking a shirt and dark brown coat for his father, he locked the door and hurried back to the doctor's office. Beauregard was now sitting down and Ben was standing beside him; Slade's body and Ranger Clark were gone. Buckley was still there, taking up space in Bret's opinion. "Let's get you dressed," Bret told his father, and they borrowed Doc Staley's office for a few minutes.

Beau insisted his arm was fine and although Bret saw his father wince at least twice he wasn't going to argue. When they returned to the front room of the clinic Buckley had disappeared and Templeton explained, "I sent him back to the Rangers' offices. Mr. Maverick, anything you can tell me about the shooting?"

"Not much," Ben remarked. "Damn fool had a gun on Buckley, shoved him aside and turned to shoot my nephew. I put two bullets in him first."

"Would you be willing to sign a statement to that effect when I get it written up?"

"Of course. Do you need me for anything else? I'd like to get Beau back to the hotel."

"I'm not goin' anywhere," Pappy protested.

The next person through the front door was the doctor. "Oh Lord, what's happened now?"

"Sorry, Doc, we've got a body for you in the exam room," Templeton explained.

"Well, at least it's not another Maverick. Wait – it's not another Maverick, is it?"

"No, it's somebody we've been tracking. Tommy Slade," Templeton stated.

Doctor Staley sighed. "I don't like being this busy."

Ben took hold of Beau's left arm. "Come on, brother dear, you've got an appointment with the hotel room." Beauregard knew when he was beaten and went with his brother voluntarily. Bret finally remembered Sammy Jo and went rushing into Bart's room.

"You alright, Sammy?"

"Bret! Thank goodness you finally came back! I heard the gunshots and was afraid to come out." The young woman ran to Bret and hugged him, before backing away in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I'm just so relieved!"

"Sorry to keep ya in here so long. I wanted to make sure everything was over before I came to get ya. How's my brother?"

"He's fine, now. When I heard the shots, he flinched. Like he heard 'em, too. Do ya think he did?"

Bret shook his head. "I don't know, Sammy. I sure hope so. That'd be a good sign, I think. Thanks for stayin' with him."

She patted Bret's arm on her way back to the front office. Jack Templeton walked in after Sammy Jo left. "Any change?"

"Sammy says he flinched when she heard the shots."

Templeton's head bobbed up and down. "Good. That means he's hearing things."

"Whatta ya need, Jack?"

"Stay alert, Bret. Just because Slade's gone doesn't mean it's over. I'd almost bet there's one or two in town we missed." He slapped Bret on the arm. "I'm going to see Buckley, see if Slade said anything to him he didn't repeat to you."

"Thanks. Good luck with Buckley. He doesn't always tell the exact truth."

"I'll remember that," and the ranger was gone.

Now that he didn't have to worry about Tommy Slade anymore, Bret settled back down with Isabelle's diary and once again began to read to his brother.

May 3rd – I can't believe that Abigail has been gone for a year already. Ben still has his moments; I can see it in his eyes. He's found a wonderful woman to take care of him and Beau; her name is Lily Mae Connors. Lily Mae's heart is big enough to encompass the whole town, and she is taking excellent care of my brother-in-law, and especially Little Beau. It's so funny to see Lily with all the boys, they just love her to death. She calls Bart 'Mr. B.' It's nice to have someone adult to talk to again, as I spend a lot of my days with two little boys. No matter how hard they tried, Beauregard and Bentley just couldn't seem to make a go of the cattle ranching business and they have both primarily gone back to playing poker.

I'd hoped that phase of my husband's life might be behind us, but it just wasn't meant to be. And I have to admit that Beauregard seems happier now that he is back to his first love (poker). Ben doesn't even pretend anymore – he sold all his remaining stock to George Walker, the rancher on the other side of him.

October 18th – They're growing up so fast. Bret is four and Bart just turned three. I know that Beauregard is teaching them to play poker; I'm not stupid. Every time I see the baby, he has a card in his hands. Beau's teaching both boys to ride, and it scares me to death because as slight as Bart is he prefers to ride bareback. Trying to keep my little boy healthy is a job all by itself; he catches everything that's going around and cries all night when he's sick. Bret spends a good deal of his time helping momma take care of his brother and doesn't seem to mind one bit.

I've been teaching them to read. If they can recognize things on a deck of cards they can recognize and learn words. We're learning from the Bible, which serves a two-fold purpose. They go to church with me on Sunday and while Bret gets fidgety sometimes, Bart seems fascinated by Reverend Nevins sermons. He always wants to come home and read more of the Bible after we've been to church.

My other brother-in-law, Micah, has sold his ranch and is moving back to Charleston. He just can't stand the hot, dry heat here in Texas. We see so little of Micah and his wife Charlotte that it won't make much difference, anyway. I wish them all the best and hope they have a safe journey.

April 21st – Another birthday has passed, and Bret is now five. What a little man he is. Ever momma's helper, I don't know what I would do without him. Bart has a stuffed bear named Mr. Giggles that he takes everywhere with him, and he loses it everywhere. Bret has become the bear-finder. Or the bear-sitter, I'm not sure which. He makes sure his brother always has Mr. Giggles with him. He does indeed love and protect his brother.

And Bartley is just adoring of Bret. Everywhere brother goes, little brother must go, too. And Beauregard is so proud of them. I see the look in his eyes when he thinks I'm not watching. The man who didn't know what kind of a father he would make is the best in the world, at least as far as two little boys are concerned. They are most unhappy when Pappy (as they call him) leaves to go out of town and play poker and are practically beside themselves with joy when he returns home. The last time Beau came back from San Antonio he brought them a brand new deck of cards and a gold coin each. You'd have thought the cards were made of gold, they were treated with such reverence. I love my husband, and I'm proud of the way he's provided for us, but I'd rather the boys grew up to be something besides gamblers. Doctors, lawyers, even lawmen, but if things keep going the way they are I fear there will be no other profession in this house. Bret and Bart are already quite good at poker, as is their cousin Beau, even if they think I don't know that they play it whenever they get the chance. Darling, darling boys, light of your mother's life, I'll love you no matter what, but can't you raise cattle or horses or even (God forbid) sheep? How will you ever find a wife if you have your father's wanderlust?

June 15th – I'm writing this after the boys are in bed asleep. We had quite a trauma today, and I'm still not over it. Bart is sick again (normal for my youngest, I'm afraid), and I was in the boys bedroom with him when Bret came running in and grabbed my hand, insisting that I follow him to the front door. We were on our way there when I was stopped dead in my tracks by the sight of my sister Grace standing in my front room. I was so angry, even after all these years, that I told her to leave. We argued back and forth for a few minutes and we woke Beau, who was just as unhappy to see her as I was. He ordered her out, too, and then the worst thing happened. Our little gentleman came running back in, having dragged his baby brother out of bed, babbling about meeting 'Aunty Grace.' Beau and I were horrified. I picked up Bart and Beauregard scooped up Bret, and we each carried a child back to their bedroom. I put Bart back in bed and sat with Bret while he read from the Bible for me. I heard Beau's voice more than once, loud and angry, and then silence. Then the front door closed, and that abhorrent woman was gone. I hope I never see her again as long as I live.

There was a knock on the door; it was Doc Staley. "Bret, I'm going home as soon as I finish some paperwork. Why don't you go get some supper and I'll sit with Bart while you're gone? Then I'll have a chance to give him one last check tonight. I want to see if we can wait until morning to make the decision. I'm just too worn out to do anything this evening."

"Did Sammy Jo tell you earlier? About him reacting to the gunshots?"

"Yes, she did. That's why I think tomorrow will be decision time for where I go digging for the bullet."

"What if you can't?"

"Can't look for it or can't locate it?"

"Either one."

Doc sighed loudly. "Then we wait."

"For what?"

It was apparent that the doctor didn't want to answer that question, but he did, at long last. "For him to die."