A Small Favor

I was sure if I didn't respond to the knocking on my door, the intruder would go away. They didn't, and in a minute the knock was accompanied by a voice. "Mr. Maverick?"

I pushed myself off the sofa in my office with a groan. Anyone else might have left me alone, but that was Adam, the new daytime bartender. He was good at what he did, but he was young and conscientious, too conscientious at times. He still seemed unsure as to where he fit in here at the saloon and often times went over and above to make sure he was doing things the right way. I was hoping a couple of months would loosen him up a little.

"Comin'," I called as I stretched out the muscles in my back with a wince. My office wasn't the best place to sleep, but these days, I took sleep when and where I could get it. This time of day things were usually quiet enough for me to sneak in an hour or two. If I'd learned anything over the last month, it was what a precious commodity sleep actually was, and it wasn't to be taken for granted.

I opened the door and sure enough, found Adam in the hallway. "I'm sorry, Mr. Maverick, I know you didn't want to be disturbed but there's a man out front that wants to see you. He's bein' pretty insistent too."

"That's alright, Adam, and it's just Bart. Remember?"

"Yes, sir."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. The boy had been here over a month and I had yet to break him from the sir and mister habit. He was younger than me, but not young enough for that. Instead of correcting him again, though, I moved to more pressing matters. "Who is it?"

"Said his name was Buckley. I told him you . . . ."
"Buckley? Jim Buckley?"

Adam nodded. "Yes, sir."

I was completely awake now. "Tell him I'll be out in a minute."

"Yes, sir."

"And, Adam, give him a drink, on the house."

"Yes, sir," Adam replied before heading back to the bar.

I closed the door and started trying to put myself back together; buttoning my vest, retying my tie, smoothing out my hair. What was James Buckley, otherwise known as Dandy Jim Buckley, doing here? Jim's an old friend, but I hadn't seen or heard from him in . . . it had to be close to two-and-half years. He's a dandy and he usually spends his time in bigger places than Little Bend, Texas, and last time he was here . . . well, it didn't end well. As a matter of fact, the last time I'd seen Jim I'd told him he wasn't welcome here anymore.

Before I get too involved, maybe I should tell you who I am. The name's Maverick. Bartley Maverick to be precise, but please, it's just Bart. There are other Mavericks too, my pappy, Beauregard, and my brother Bret for starters, but there's also my uncle Ben and my cousin Beau. Poker is the family business. In their younger days, Pappy and Uncle Ben were two of the best, and when they finally put down roots and started their families, they passed on their knowledge of that noble game to me and Bret and Beau. For a lot of years, the three us did exactly what Pappy and Ben had done when they were young, travel and play poker, honest poker that is. Yes, it possible, and that's the only way a Maverick will play the game. Most folks call us gamblers, but that's not really true. Poker is a science, and when played right, there's no need to gamble.

I guess we're all starting to get a little old though because in the past few years we've all been traveling less. Pappy and Ben don't go much of anywhere anymore, and me and Beau have both decided to, more or less, put down some roots. Beau married a few years back and settled in Baton Rouge, and a couple of years ago, I married too. I decided to stay in our hometown of Little Bend, however. Now my wife, Doralice, and I run the biggest and best saloon in Little Bend. Bret is still unmarried and still roving around some but I keep thinking that will change one day in the near future. He's got him a good woman, but neither one of them are ready to say "I do" just yet.

I understand Bret's reluctance. I felt the same thing for a long time, but I have to say, living with Mrs. Maverick in Little Bend – the town I wanted nothing more than to get out of when I was growing up – has made me happier than any of the traveling I used to do. Life got even better a few short weeks ago when Doralice gave birth to our first two children. Yep, I said children. I don't know who was more surprised by the twins, me or her, but Maude and Isabelle have completely stolen our hearts . . . and our nights of decent sleep.

My girls are beautiful, perfect little angels. They are my absolute pride and joy. They are also the reason I have to sneak naps in at the saloon. Everyone who has done this ahead of me keeps assuring me it'll get better one day, and sleepless nights don't seem to have stopped anyone from having children, but I can't say I'm not looking forward to that day they both decide to sleep all night. My girls weren't my main concern right now, however. Buckley claimed that title.

Grabbing my jacket off the back of my chair, I slipped it on and stepped out into the barroom, hoping to find out exactly what was going on and why Jim had suddenly turned up in my hometown insisting he see me.

There weren't a lot of people in the saloon this time of day, but even if the place had been full, I would have had no trouble spotting Jim. He comes by the nickname Dandy honestly, and he was certainly living up to it today. His jacket was a deep purple color, and the silk cravat around his neck a bright peacock blue. Both colors were woven into his waistcoat, and fitted tan trousers disappeared into black knee-high boots with a shine on them high enough to see my reflection in. In a town where most of the patrons were more the cowboy type, he stood out.

I stood off to the side a moment to collect my thoughts. I didn't feel the anger I had halfway expected, but there was a slight sting of betrayal. It had taken me a while to get over that; at the time I hadn't been sure I would ever get over it, but as the months passed the hurt had eased. Now it was just a bruise; still tender if it was hit just right, but no longer painful. I was glad. I hadn't been sure what I would feel when I finally saw Jim again.

I took a deep breath and walked over to the corner table Jim was sitting at. "Jim."

I saw the uncertainty on his face when he first looked up, but he broke into a grin when he saw I didn't have my claws out. "Bart." He stood and pumped my hand enthusiastically several times. "It's good to see you, old boy." I wanted to remain a little stoic, but I couldn't help but smile hearing that English accent roll off his tongue. "How long has it been? Two years?"

"A little more than that I'd say." I knew exactly how long it had been, but that was close enough.

We both sat down and he gave me a once-over. "You are looking well, Bart. This life must agree with you."

"It does."

"And your . . . lovely wife; how is she?"

I fought back a smile wondering how sincere the question was. Jim had been taken with Doralice when he'd first met her and he'd done a great job of charming her, but he hadn't wholeheartedly supported my decision to marry. I wondered if his attitude concerning marriage had changed over the years. It was doubtful. "She's fine."

Adam brought me a cup of coffee over and I nodded my thanks. I waited until Jim and I were alone again before I said anything else. "So what brings you to Little Bend? Just passing through?" I knew better than that. I haven't often known Jim to go anywhere, just because. If he was here, there was a reason for it, especially after what happened last time.

Jim cleared his throat and looked at his drink for a moment. "Actually . . . Bart, I . . . I need a favor."

I winced. I hadn't been expecting that, and that sting I'd felt when I'd first seen Jim got intense for a second. "Like last time?"

Jim actually flinched back, and for a moment he looked as sorry as I'd ever seen him. But it wasn't long before there was a smile back on his face; albeit a strained one. "I deserved that."

"Yes, you did."

"And you have every right to be angry," Jim went on as though I hadn't spoken. "But believe me, Bart, this is nothing like last time. I'm asking for nothing but a little time. You'll be out no money at all and I won't even be staying in town long. As a matter of fact, I'll be leaving today."

Last time I'd seen him, I'd told Jim to get out of Little Bend and not to bother coming back. Hurt as I'd been it hadn't taken me long to regret those words and wonder how I might have handled the situation differently. It also hadn't taken me long to wonder how much Jim would take those words to heart. It appeared he'd taken more notice than I'd assumed he would. I stared down into my coffee again and admitted to myself I'd never liked the thought of me and Jim ending like that, we really have been through a lot together, but at the same time I wanted Jim to know I hadn't forgotten how we'd left things; I couldn't forget his betrayal, not yet.

"I'm not doing anything illegal, Jim." Most people might think the statement odd, but most folks don't know Dandy. He is a friend, but to be frank, he's also a con man and a cheat, and if he asks you to do anything, he definitely has an ulterior motive. I just wondered what it was this time, and figured it would be best to set the boundaries right now.

"Really, Bart, would I ask you to do anything illegal?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Do you really want me to answer that?" It wouldn't be the first time he'd done it.

Jim looked a little put out but chagrined and he finally nodded. "I can understand your hesitation, really, but I mean it, there's absolutely nothing about this that could cause you any type of legal trouble."

"I mean it too," I told him sternly. "I have a family now; a wife and kids . . . ."

"Children?"

I grinned, my anger at Jim dissipating at the thought of my girls. Sleep or no sleep, they were my pride and joy and sometimes it still amazed me I'm actually a father. I've always wanted a family, but the realization that I now had one still made me a little giddy from time to time. "Yeah. Twins. Both of 'em girls. They were born almost a month ago."

The look on Jim's face changed and he merely stared at me a moment. "Well, that's . . . convenient."

"Convenient?"

"I mean . . . congratulations."

"Thanks," I said knowing the words were probably more out of politeness than actual happiness. "But I'm serious, Jim. I got too much to take care of now. I can't afford to get mixed up in one of your schemes."

"But it's not a scheme."

"And how many times have you said that to Bret?" Bret and Jim seem to go between not seeing eye to eye and barely tolerating each other. Most of that stems from the fact that Jim has cheated and lied to Bret more times than I can count, and Bret has ended up in jail because of Jim on more than one occasion. For that matter, he's caused me some problems too. It was for this reason, I hesitated to grant Jim the favor he'd come in here asking for. He's never caused me as many problems as he has Bret, but he's been responsible for a scrape or two through the years. Some of them have been kind of serious too, and with a family and a business now, I wasn't interested in playing that game.

Jim sighed. "I'll admit that in the past I haven't always been entirely honest with you, or Bret, but this is different." I gave him another look. "I mean it. It's all above board and legal."

I could hardly believe it, but I found myself starting to weaken. "What is it, exactly?"

Jim broke into a grin. "It's quite simple really. I'm expecting a package, but of course, I have no permanent address for the moment. The only thing I need you to do is agree to pick it up and hold it for me when it comes in."

"And?"

"And nothing."

"And it can't be that simple."

"But it is. Really, Bart, I swear it. I only need a place to send it, and someone willing to claim it when it comes in."

"Why here?"

"Well, it could be considered valuable. I'd like to know it's with someone . . . someone I can trust, and no one can say a Maverick isn't trustworthy."

"It's not stolen, is it?"

Jim shook his head. "I've told you. There no way you could possibly incur any legal trouble. It's coming from an Evertt Winters. He's a solicitor. Call it . . . an inheritance, if you will."

"And why can't you be here to get it?"

"I have business to attend to in St. Louis. I don't know exactly when I'll be back. If you would just . . . hold it for me, until my return. Will you?"

I stared down at my coffee. I wasn't going to ask what 'business' Jim had in St. Loius, I didn't really want to know, but I had to admit, it did sound all right. I couldn't believe it, but I found myself nodding. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll do it."

That grin was back. "You'll have my sincere appreciation . . . ."

"I'm warning you, Jim, if you're lyin' to me . . . ."

"I'm not. My word as a . . . ." Jim trailed off. He cleared his throat. "You have my word."

I looked at Jim and for some reason, I believed him. I nodded again and fought back a smile. "For what that's worth."