I figured when I'd asked Domino for her story that she'd want mine. So I gave her the short, uncomplicated version.
"Youngest of two boys. Momma died when I was five. Pappy raised us to be just like him – honest poker players. Got drafted in the war, came back and started travelin' around. Not much else to it."
She'd watched me carefully while I struggled to give her the information. My jaw was still sore and had finally started to show bruising discolorations, and it wasn't easy to speak. When I was finished, she sat there for a moment and then shook her head. "Nope. There's way more than that, but I can see it's not easy to talk, or talk about. So I'll give you a pass for now. But someday soon . . . . . . . " she smiled as she left the room.
The door had no sooner closed than it opened again, this time for my brother. He too wore a smile and a new black hat and seemed in a good mood. "Brother Bart, how ya feelin' this mornin'?"
This time I could actually answer him. "Better. You?"
"Good enough to buy a new hat!" he laughed, and I was happy to see him in a better frame of mind than before I'd been run over.
"Poker successful?"
He gave me a little nod. "In more ways than one. Have you had breakfast yet?"
"Domino went to get it."
"Domino, huh? Be careful there, son. That's all I'm gonna say."
"Poker?" I asked again. I was relieved that he wasn't gonna pursue anything further about Dominique. I didn't know what my feelings were about Mrs. Hawkins, and right now I didn't want to try and figure them out. I was more interested in what my brother had discovered.
"Won big last night. Not as big as you, but big enough. Got some interesting information, too." Before he could go any further Domino was back with a tray. I had bacon, eggs and coffee. Bret started to pick up the fork and I took it away from him. He had a grin on his face. "Back to feedin' yourself, huh? Nice to see some progress."
"Would you like some coffee, Mr. Maverick?" Domino asked. "I'd be happy to get you a cup."
"Thanks, Dominique, I would. And please call me Bret."
"Yes, sir."
"Certainly polite," he commented as she left again.
"That she is," I answered. "Now, what else?"
"Well, you sure you're up to it?"
"Talk," I told him as I managed a bite of eggs.
"Mr. Wharton had fallen on relatively hard times," Bret started. "Seems his gambling desires exceeded his abilities, and the coffers had gotten a bit bare. He was actually gonna sell Belle Amour, assuming he could find a buyer, and that's why he had the deed and contract with him when you two played. I heard a good bit of speculation about the illustrious Chief of Police, too."
"McCann?"
"You've already made his acquaintance?" I had a mouth full and merely nodded. "He been here?" I nodded again. "Asking questions?"
"Yeah."
"What did ya tell him?"
"Not much."
"Good. Don't talk to him. Suspicion is he's on the take with business owners. Wharton may have been one of 'em. How'd you get rid of him?"
"Dominique ran him out."
"Did I do the wrong thing?" Domino asked as she came back with Bret's coffee.
"No, ma'am, you did exactly the right thing. Don't let him back in here, either. At least not for the time bein'," Bret instructed her.
"That's easy enough," she nodded and left again to give me and Bret some privacy.
"Anything else?"
"Not sure yet. Got a couple things to investigate. Oh, I brought this for ya." He set a book down on the table, and I shot him a questioning look. "Just somethin' to keep yer mind sharp."
It was 'Around the World in 80 Days' by Jules Verne. Always trying to expand my horizons, that brother of mine.
"Well, you seem to be a popular fellow," Doctor Jackson said as he entered the room. He shook hands with Bret, who vacated the chair so that the doctor could sit down. "Feeling better than the last time I saw you?"
"I am," I told him. "Any chance we can lose the bandages?"
"Well, we might be able to. Depends on what that gash looks like." He unwound everything wrapped around my head and did a lot of looking, including some poking and prodding and several "uh-huh's" before announcing, "No, not quite yet. It looks better, but I'd like to leave the dressing on it another day. I will promise a smaller bandage, though, if that makes you feel any better. Now, look straight at me and let me see your eyes."
I did as I was told and he ran all the tests he wanted to run, then examined what I supposed to be the bruising around the eyes and the rest of my face. He finally proceeded to my jawline and even the lightest touch made me wince. There were some more "uh-huh's" from the doctor, and one or two yelps from me before he finished. From there he proceeded to torture my ribcage, but when he was done there, he finally gave me some good news. "I revise my original opinion," he started and finished with "I don't think you have as many broken ribs as I first thought. There's only one or two that I'm certain of. You've had them broken before, haven't you?"
"Hasn't everyone?" I asked in all seriousness.
"Both sides?"
"Yes."
"Uh-huh. That accounts for it. I'm going to re-wrap your ribs for a day or two and then I think we can dispense with that measure. Now, let's take a look at that knee."
He did some more poking and prodding, and it didn't seem to matter how gentle his touch; every time he even thought about getting near the kneecap I wanted to scream. He looked at me like I'd done something I wasn't supposed to. "Have you been out of bed, Mr. Maverick?"
I shook my head. "No, Doc, I haven't. I swear. Not once."
That's when Bret asked, "What's wrong, Doctor?"
"Hmmm. Hmmm. Not sure, really. Some swelling I don't like. Why don't I come back later today and see how it looks. In the meantime, make sure you stay off of it. Everything else is making nice progress. All in all, I'd say you're a lucky man, Mr. Maverick. You could've easily been more severely injured, even killed. Well, you stay in bed now. I'll be back later today. Good morning, gentlemen." And without further warning he was gone, almost as quickly as he'd appeared.
There was a look on Bret's face I didn't like. "What?"
"I don't know. Somethin' was botherin' him. I'm gonna see if I can find out anything more. I'll see you later, son."
And just that quickly Bret was gone, too.
Domino returned, looking puzzled. "They both left in an awful hurry. Is everything alright?"
"I don't know," I told her, and that was the only answer I had. "Can I talk to you about something?"
"Anything you want," she answered.
"Doctor Jackson's worried, and it's my knee. I'm gonna be needin' help for a while, and Bret can't babysit me. How about if I pay you to stay at the hotel and help me get the things done I can't do alone? There's a suite with separate bedrooms and a big sittin' room. It'd sure work better once Jackson says I can leave here."
"What will Lonnie have to say about that?"
I couldn't help but grin. Ownership has its privileges, you know? "Lonnie works for me."
"Oh. Can I think about it?" She seemed hesitant and I wondered why.
"Have I done somethin' to offend you?" I asked her then.
"What makes you think that?"
"Your hesitancy."
She smiled then. "No. You've done nothing to offend me, Bart. I'd be glad to help until you don't need it anymore."
"Good. If anybody asks, you're my 'personal assistant'. I like the sound of that."
"I do too," she replied. "It's much classier than – "
"Don't say it," I interrupted. Whatever word she was gonna use didn't need to be said. That's not what she was, anyway. At least not yet.