Okay, I've sat back and watched all this for a while, and I think it's time I said something. My brother had me worried. Really worried. Just how deep had Bart gotten into Orin Johnson's organization in Dodge City, either before or after Sally Bodeen's death? How deep in the muck and mud did he hafta get to run the floor for her, and how much deeper did he go after he took over?
And why was this bothering me? I'd spent more than enough time with my brother to know that he was honest – at least as honest as I was, which might not always be saying a lot. After all, he was the one that had backed out of the saloon robbery he was supposed to participate in when he was fifteen years old, without any pressure or encouragement from me or Pappy. In all the time since I'd never seen him do one thing that was blatantly illegal. Well, unless it involved Dandy Jim Buckley or Doc Holliday, and then it was usually Bart trying to keep them from bending the law.
I guess it was just the easy way he fell in with Morgan Everton. He looked and sounded so natural, like this was something he'd done many times before and would do many times in the future. It didn't seem to be bothering him one bit, not like it was bothering me. I didn't like practically getting into bed with criminals, hobnobbing with men who broke the law on a regular basis and seemed to think nothing of it. But I failed to understand why I couldn't let it go.
I've always professed to be a coward. A true-blue, dyed-in-the-wool coward. Alright, I might not be, but there's never been any reason for me to admit that. Bart had taken up that same refrain, maybe because he'd heard it so often from me, but my little brother was actually anything but a coward. He plunged full-steam-ahead into things that made me cringe. Just like this mess with Garrity and Everton. Maybe that's what was troubling me. I was the older brother, the one that should be pushing forward on some of these things. The way I had with Molly Hooper and the Cattle Consortium. Sometimes I didn't – I let Bart take the lead, 'run the operation,' so to speak. I guess that's why this bothered me so much now; I was afraid that something would happen, and Bart would get hurt or killed. And it would be my fault.
As for the other thing still rattling around in my head – Nora Garrity. The first time I saw her, she took my breath away. I hadn't had that happen in a long, long time. Since – well, in a long time. The more I looked at her, the more I thought I recognized her from somewhere. I just couldn't remember where. I let Bart think I was mistaken because I didn't want him to worry anymore about me than he was already doing. Yeah, I saw the look in his eye when I couldn't remember about Rob Hinkel. He had enough weight on his shoulders to carry, he sure didn't need to be concerned about his absent-minded older brother. But what I'd told him was the truth – I didn't remember Rob Hinkle being dead. Or that Bart was the one that shot him.
It's not the first time I'd forgotten something important. It just seemed to be the first time that Bart really noticed it. And now this – trying to place Nora Garrity and not being able to. How could anyone in their right mind forget a woman that looked like that? Yet I had. I'd no doubt that it would come to me eventually – it always did. But what was it that was hindering that right now? I had no answers.
So – the best thing I could do at the moment was quit worrying, about where I knew Nora from, and whether my brother was a secret genius criminal mastermind. I do love him, but this is Bart Maverick we're talkin' about. A heart as big as all outdoors, but evil or any other kind of genius he's not.
And that's about all I have to say for right now.