"Are you sure about this?" That was the only question Bret Maverick had for Frank Hopper when the sheriff unlocked the jail cell and swung the door open wide.
"I'm sure, Maverick. Your belongin's are over there on my desk, and you can thank your brother for bein' so damned stubborn."
The personal belongings would wait; there was a younger brother to be embraced in a show of familial emotion in the Mavericks that most people heard of but never actually got to see. "You son of a gun," the older brother whispered in his sibling's ear, and it was hard to determine whose face actually wore the bigger smile.
"Told ya," Bart responded in the same manner, and Bret squeezed his brother's shoulders before turning loose and shifting his attention to Porter Freeman, standing three or four feet away. That response was limited to a warm handshake, but the smile was nearly as big. There was no mistaking the overriding emotion being expressed, and the attorney looked almost as pleased.
"There's somebody missin' from this celebration. He had a previous engagement with a young lady, but he'll be around later," Freeman explained. "He helped us out a lot."
"Sampson?" was the newly-freed man's question, and Porter nodded vigorously. Bret's gaze shifted to the next cell, which now held Homer Danvers and was locked just as tight as his had been. He shook his head in disbelief and proceeded to Hopper's desk, where he gathered the items that were his and quickly put them away. He slung the empty gun belt across his shoulders and looked expectantly at the sheriff. "Need it for the trial?"
"We do," came the reply, "but the town council will buy you a new one. Take your pick over at the gun shop."
"I'll do that."
There was a firm slap on the back, accompanied by a "Let's get outta here," from a familiar voice. "You've spent enough time in this jail."
Bret turned to his brother. "I don't know how you survived it in Montana. I was about to go stir crazy."
Bart laughed and grabbed Bret by the arm. "Don't cha know? I did go stir crazy!"
XXXXXXXX
They were sitting in Miss Nellie's parlor, just finishing the meal she'd insisted on preparing for them. "Won't find any better food in town," she'd maintained, "and I want you to relax and enjoy it."
"Alright, Miss Nellie, if it'll make you happy," the exonerated gambler responded. "But only if you'll join us."
"I can manage that," she smiled back at him, and that's how the Maverick brothers, along with Porter Freeman and Tommy Sampson, came to spend Sunday afternoon in Nellie Collin's parlor. The meal was not only delicious, the surroundings were pleasant and the mood was decidedly gay.
"So that's the whole story, or at least most of it," Bart explained as he laid his napkin down on the table. "Sorry it took so long to unravel, but it was a bit complicated."
"You were workin' on it," Bret nodded. "I appreciate the effort that you all had to put into it. I sure didn't wanna go through a trial."
"Dang, there goes my big fat fee," Porter groused, and everyone laughed.
"You can always defend Homer," Bret suggested, but Porter shook his head.
"Nope. I want nothing to do with that one. Danvers is as guilty as can be, and he'll hang for it."
"Amen," added Tommy.
"I'm sorry about your brother," the older gambler offered, and Tommy nodded in response.
"I appreciate the sentiment. And I'm glad I was wrong about your bein' guilty."
"You have a long talk with the schoolmarm? What is her real name, by the way?" Porter questioned.
"Her name is Cherry," Tommy grinned. "That's where the idea for usin' 'Cherry Smith' came from. Besides, with any luck it'll get changed again somewhere down the road."
"From Smith to Sampson?"
No answer was necessary. "How are you going to like having a sheriff for a brother-in-law?" Miss Nellie asked.
"Bout the same way he's gonna like havin' a half-breed for one. We'll both get used to it."
"And Joanie Maxwell?"
Porter shook his head. "Poor girl. Looks like she's the big loser."
There was a twinkle in Miss Nellie's eyes. "Don't be so sure about that. I've got a sister in California that's willing to take her in. As soon as we can get her dried out, that is. Joanie is going to move in here and spend some time with me, and when she's ready she'll go to live with LaVern."
"Good, I'm glad. Get her out of this town; that's all she's ever wanted. Maybe the idea of losin' Danny won't be so hard on her." Tommy's tone of voice was sad but hopeful.
"Brother Bret, I promised Jackson Story that we'd swing by his place before we left town. When do you wanna do that?"
"As soon as possible, Bart. I been in Hobbs way longer than I ever wanted to be, and I'd like to get on the road out of here tomorrow, if we can."
Miss Nellie looked displeased. "Do you boys really have to go so soon?"
Bret nodded. "Yes, ma'am, there's someplace I need to be."
"Someplace in Kansas?" Bart asked mischievously.
The older Maverick didn't answer him, just smiled at Miss Nellie. "How about it, Bart? You up for a visit to the Story Ranch?"
"Anytime, Bret. Think your horse will remember who you are?"
XXXXXXXX
They spent the rest of the afternoon at the Story Ranch and listened to Jackson spin tales of his adventures with the Maverick family. It was past dark by the time they returned to the boarding house and both Mavericks were close to worn out. Miss Nellie was more than happy to fix them a late supper and they retired to their mutually rented room shortly after that. They packed quickly, anticipating their journey out of Hobbs as an early morning enterprise, and spoke very little until they were almost finished.
"Just exactly where are we headed?" Bart asked at long last.
"You got anyplace in mind?" was Bret's response.
"Like I said before – someplace in Kansas."
"No."
"Alright, what happened between you two?"
Bret sat down on the bed. "It's too long a story to start tonight. I'll explain when we get goin' tomorrow."
That was alright with his brother. "I got one of those, myself, I'm afraid."
"New Orleans?"
"And afterward, yeah."
"Looks like we both got a lotta catchin' up to do."
"I guess we do. Who starts first?"
"Toss a coin?"
Bart shook his head. "Not with your coin, Pappy. Tell you what, whoever wins gets to pick where we're goin'. And has to explain everything first."
Bret thought it over and finally agreed. "Somethin' for everybody. You got a coin?"
Bart reached in his pocket but had nothing but paper money. "Alright, your coin. But not the one with two heads."
The older brother chuckled. "Fair enough. Here, see if this one passes your inspection."
Bart examined the coin and approved it. "I'll toss it. You call it." And he flipped it high in the air.
"Heads," Bret insisted.
"Tails. I win. We're goin' to Kansas City."
Bret grimaced. "And you better be ready to spill your tale of woe once we've gotten started. Agreed?"
"I already agreed. But you might regret it once I explain everything."
"No more than I'll regret goin' to Kansas City."
I want to personally thank everyone who read this story and hung in there while I took a few weeks off for heart surgery. I promise not to do that again, but I do appreciate your loyalty and perseverance. My heart, by the way, is coming along nicely and, as always, a new story starts tomorrow.