Final Verdict

I'll give Bart one thing, he was right about the river. It wasn't exactly the Thames, but it was a peaceful spot. It also allowed for some solitude which is what I was seeking. For the better part of an hour, I walked along the bank enjoying the sounds of nature around me; the babbling of the water, the singing of the birds, even the occasional rabbit running across my path. I let my mind wander for most of that time and I tried not to think of anything in particular, but eventually, I found I could not ignore what had driven me out here in the first place. I had to make a decision about the boy.

I found myself a nice shady spot close to the water's edge and sat down. Leaning back against a tree trunk, I pulled the letter from Lenora out from my coat yet again. Lenora Freemont. A smile came to my face as I thought about her. Why did she have to be so remarkable? And why had she made such a difficult request of me?

Taking a deep breath, I pulled the letter from the envelope and unfolded the page. I shook my head as I read the first words. Dearest James she said. I wonder if she really meant that. I also wondered if the letter would have the same impact if she'd started it any other way. I'd read the blasted thing so many times I hardly needed to give another reading, and yet that's just what I found myself doing.

Dearest James,

If you are reading this than the worst has happened and my time has come before Jack has come of age. You will have been told about Jack by now and my request regarding him. Doubtless, finding out about him was a shock and all I can ask is that you forgive me. Only time will tell if I'm asking forgiveness for putting you in this position to begin with or for not telling you about him sooner. I hope one day you'll come to think it's the latter but only you will be able to answer that question.

I'm sure you want to know if I knew about Jack while you were still in Biloxi, and the answer is yes. My greatest fear at that time was that you would discover my secret before you left. I did consider telling you, more than once, but I was afraid you would have a sudden attack of decency and offer to marry me or something equally as foolish, and we both know that wouldn't have worked for either of us. It could very well have turned you against me too, and I had no desire to do that. I decided the best thing to do was simply keep my condition hidden until you moved on and allow us both to keep our memories of one another pleasant.

I never expected anything from you concerning Jack. I didn't tell you about him in the beginning because I didn't want you to feel obligated to provide for either of us or remain in Biloxi against your will. I always knew I could provide for him and give him a good home without the aid of a man. That's exactly what I have done, and would still be doing if I was able. I know having a child wasn't part of your plan, and frankly, it wasn't part of mine either. However, you must know Jack is the best thing that has ever happened to me. He has brought so much joy and happiness into my life and for that reason, I'm making this request of you now. Jack is the single most important person in my life and I cannot bear the thought of him being turned over to the state should something happen to me before he is of age. I want to know that if I cannot raise him to manhood the task will be taken on by someone who will love him just as much as I do. I'm aware that what I'm asking is no small thing, and God forbid this letter ever makes its way into your hands, but I have to ask. James, if I'm denied the privilege of seeing our son become a man, will you take on the responsibility?

I know the role of a father is not one you've ever really desired, nor is it one you've ever imagined yourself in, but he is your son. Please, James, give him a home. I ask that you do it for me if for no other reason. Again, I have to tell you he is the best part of my life. He can be that for you as well if you'll let him.

Now that I've made my plea, I'd like to tell you a little about our son. The first thing that comes to mind is how much he looks like you. Sometimes I feel as though I'm looking at a miniature of you when I see him, especially his eyes. He is smart as well, like you. I often wonder if being with him is not like experiencing what your own mother must have gone through when you were a boy. I know every mother thinks her child is brilliant, but Jack truly is bright for his age. At times he is too smart for his own good; I'm sure we both had a hand in making him that way. I haven't told him everything about us, some things he just isn't old enough for yet, but I have told him about you. I never saw a reason to keep you or your name a secret from him. Occasionally, he does ask questions about you and I try to answer them as honestly as I can. I never wanted him to grow up without any notion of who his father is which is why I gave him your name. I think allowing him to carry it is something you both deserve.

At this point, there isn't much left to say unless it's to reiterate what I've said before. You will have already read the letter from Mister Winters concerning all legal issues on the matter. I hope the arrangements concerning both Jack and the finances are to your satisfaction. Here I will make one final plea. Please, James, if the time comes that you find yourself reading this letter, take your son. Take him into your home and your heart. If you allow him in, you won't regret it.

Wishing you all the best,

Lenora

I finished the letter and folded it back up. Take him into your home and your heart. I don't have a home and I wasn't sure I could let him into my heart. My heart can be a pretty cold place, but this was Lenora. If I could grant anyone a favor, it would be Lenora.

"Oh, my dear," I said as I tucked the letter away again. "I may be a fool, but I it was always difficult to deny you anything."

Wearily I pushed to my feet and started walking back the way I'd come. My last hope was Bart. I could only hope the boy would choose to remain here with the Mavericks. It would be a better place for him and would certainly make my life easier, but if he said no . . . . Lenora's plea came to mind and I finally knew without a doubt that I couldn't deny her. I stayed in Biloxi all those months because telling her no was too hard. I couldn't make any promises about opening up my heart, but if the boy wanted to come with me, I couldn't say no. It was the least I could do for Lenora. And her son.

Dinner was an interesting affair, to say the least. It's been years since I've been a part of a family dinner, and I'm not sure I've ever been surrounded by so many children. Naturally, Bart's children didn't participate much, but they were there and I felt decidedly outnumbered. As for the boy, he appeared more confident than he had earlier; I attributed that to Bart and Doralice being around. Most of his comments were directed to Bart and I couldn't help but feel a little thrill of satisfaction at that. It was hard to deny who he was more at ease with. He was telling Bart of the ride he'd taken today and while I won't often admit Bret Maverick can best me at anything, he does seem to handle children better than me. I'm not terribly surprised by that, nor do I consider it a fantastic accomplishment.

Jack was happily talking to the Mavericks when he suddenly turned his attention to me. He didn't say anything at first just looked my way. "Yes?" I prompted when the silence stretched on for a beat or two.

"Do you think women should be able to vote?"

I saw both Bart and Doralice bite back smiles and had a feeling this question had been asked before. "Vote?"

He nodded. "Yes, like you do."

"I can't vote."

"Why?"

"I'm from England and not a citizen of this country; therefore, I'm unable to vote."

He considered me a moment, something I found slightly unnerving. "But if you could, do you think women should be able to."

Bart must have decided to take pity on me because he finally spoke. "His mother believed in women's votes. Jack feels very strongly about the issue."

I smiled ruefully. "I remember." Lenora had made no secret of her feelings on the matter, and if a man held any notions to the contrary, he would likely change his mind once that woman got hold of him. As I'd told Bart, she was so much fiercer than the young ladies in England. "Your mother had this talk with me once," I told the boy. "She made a compelling case and I have to say when she was done I couldn't fault her reasoning."

"Does that mean you think women should be able to vote?"

"Of course," I replied with a smile. Being at the table with both him and Doralice I wasn't about to say anything else, but with women like Lenora and the current Mrs. Maverick around, I don't doubt it will one day be a reality. He smiled at me and again I got the feeling I was looking at a younger version of myself. Good Lord, I wondered if he was the troublemaker I'd been. For the first time, I realized just how much trouble taking him on could be and it was more than I'd ever imagined. Heaven help me if he didn't choose to remain in Texas.

After the topic of voting, the conversation turned to less controversial things and the rest of the meal passed uneventfully. I was forced to come up with an explanation concerning the "business" I'd been on but felt that by the end of the meal I'd managed to get back in Doralice's good graces. She had no way of knowing I was still hoping they might agree to keep the boy, but like Bart, I just didn't see how they could object if it was what he wanted.

We had a delightful dessert of pecan pie and then Doralice suggested Bart and I take the boy into the parlor while she put the little ones to bed. I was afraid Bart would say I should see to the boy while he helped his wife, but thankfully he agreed and the three of us left the kitchen. "Bart says you know how to play poker," Jack said once we were in the sitting room.

"I do," I replied surprised he was addressing me again.

The boy looked to Bart. "Can we play until bedtime?"

"Do you know how to play poker?" I asked him.

He nodded eagerly. "Mister Beauregard taught me and Bart's been helping too."

"It's alright by me," Bart said. "Dandy?"

"I don't suppose there's a reason we shouldn't." I've never played poker with a child before, but if he'd been educated on the subject by Mavericks he would at least understand the basics of the game.

To my surprise, the game was actually entertaining. It wasn't profitable, and naturally, the boy wasn't a match for Bart and me, but I was pleased to see he indeed had a good grasp of the game. At least we'd have some common ground when it was just to two of us. The thought came to mind before I knew what was happening and I quickly amended it. We'd have some common ground if we were ever alone. Not that it would be an issue if Bart just kept him here.

We played for nearly an hour before Bart told Jack he needed to start getting ready for bed. I expected there to be an argument but was pleasantly surprised when the boy only asked for one more hand, which Bart readily agreed to, and then headed off to his room.

"He's well behaved," I commented lighting a cigar.

"Yes, he is. His mother obviously raised him well."

"I'm not surprised."

"So," Bart said getting a cigar of his own. "What do you think?"

"I think he's unlike any child I've ever met. Although to be fair, I don't know that many children."

"That's not really what I meant."

"I know what you meant."

"And?"

I sighed. "I know nothing about children, Bart. I don't know how to be a father."

"I didn't either until the girls were born. I ain't gonna lie, Jim, It's not easy but . . . ."

"He'll be the best thing that's ever happened to me," I snapped irritability. "I know."

Bart gave me a sideways look. "Sounds like you've already been talking to someone."

"Err, no, not really. I just assumed you'd say something like that. You're obviously quite happy with this life."

"Yes, I am."

I had nothing to say so I studied the end of my cigar. I'd already said too much and at this moment I wasn't willing to admit I'd already given serious thought to accepting the boy. If Bart knew that, I'd never get him to agree to keep him.

Bart finally heaved a sigh. "Look, Jim, I know this is all new to you, but you've done good tonight. Why don't you go tuck him in when he's ready for bed?"

I gave Bart an incredulous look. "Tuck him in?"

"Yeah."

"And just how am I supposed to do that?"

It was now Bart's turn to look at me as if I'd grown an extra head. "What do you mean how are you supposed to do that? You just put him to bed."

"Bart, I've never put a child to bed in my life." Was I going to be expected to tell stories or give him a kiss or something equally preposterous?

"You're a smart man, Dandy, I don't think it'll put too much of a mental strain on you."

"But . . . how?" I'd been thrown so off kilter by the proposition that I didn't even care I sounded like an idiot.

"You go in, make sure he's comfortable, tell him goodnight, turn out the light. How do you put yourself to bed? It's the same thing you're just doing it for someone else."

That made sense. So long as the boy didn't ask that I sing for him or something of that nature the task sounded doable. Perhaps.

I was thinking about the matter when Doralice joined us and before I knew what was happening Bart was sharing his idea with her. I knew the decision had been made for me when Doralice looked my way and smiled. "I think that's an excellent idea."

I somehow managed to return her smile and hoped she couldn't tell how reluctantly I was agreeing to this. Really it wasn't very sporting of Bart to bring his wife into the matter. He knew I'd agree to most anything if it would make her think more kindly of me. Then again, if it would continue to elevate her opinion of me it might be worth it.

"Jack's already in his room," she told me. "You can go on in whenever you want."

"Of course." I did manage to send a glare in Bart's direction as I left the room just to let him know I didn't appreciate his tactics, but all I received for my trouble was that irritating Maverick grin.

I went down the hall to the boy's room and took a steadying breath before knocking on the door. When I received an affirmative answer, I went inside. "Jack?" The boy's back was to me but he whirled around as soon as I spoke. The look on his face clearly told me I wasn't who he'd been expecting. "I came to-to put you to bed," I said wondering if the words sound that ridiculous when everyone says them.

"Okay," the boy said softly as he walked past me and climbed into the bed. Judging from his tone he had less confidence in my ability than I did.

I waited until he was in bed before I motioned to a spot at the foot. "May I sit down?" The boy hesitated before finally nodding his consent. "I'll confess," I told him as I sat down. "I've never done this before."

"What do I call you?"

"What do you call me?" It wasn't an unfair question but I was taken aback by the abruptness of it. It wasn't the first time the boy had changed topics like that and I wondered if it was something he always did or he was just as nervous and unsure of things as I was.

"I have to call you something. Right?"

"Yes, I suppose so." Funny, I hadn't considered the issue until just now and started racking my brain trying to think of something. Certainly, a name more familiar than Mister Buckley was in order, but I didn't think I was ready to hear anything like father, or worse, daddy yet. "Since you'd like me to call you Jack, why don't you call me Jim?"

"Jim," he repeated almost as though he was testing it.

"Is that alright with you?"

"Sure," he answered with a shrug.

It wasn't easy to carry on a conversation when I got nothing but one-word answers, but Bart assured me that would change as the boy became more comfortable with me. The question was, did I want him to become more comfortable with me? "Have you enjoyed your time here with the Mavericks?" I asked before the silence could stretch on for too long.

"I guess so," the boy said as he picked at a loose tread on the quilt.

I took a deep breath and steeled myself for what I was about to do. I would have preferred to ease into the matter, but with Jack answering only the questions I asked and volunteering nothing else I didn't know how to do that. Best to just jump in and hope for the best. "Jack, we need to discuss something."

The boy eyed me warily. "Okay."

"Your mother planned on you coming to live with me. Is that something you think you would like?"

The boy dropped his eyes and shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know."

"Oh." I hadn't expected that. I'd tried to prepare myself for yes or no, but I wasn't sure what to do with that answer. Then wonder of wonders, the boy actually asked me a question.

"For good?"

"Yes." It was difficult to get that single word out. "Yes, it would be permanent."

He got a look like a cornered colt then and drew his knees up to his chest. "Where do you live?"

"Err, well, actually I don't live anywhere."

"You don't?"

"No, not really; I travel. I go to any place that strikes my fancy and stay until I'm ready to leave."

"But . . . what would happen to me?"

I had nothing to say to that. It had been a problem from the beginning. What would I do with a child? Would he travel with me? Lenora didn't talk as though she expected me to have settled down any. Was I expected to put down roots because of this? I didn't think I could do that. "Well . . . I don't know. If that's what you wanted, I'm sure arrangements could be made."

I knew as soon as the words left my mouth it was the wrong thing to say. The boy looked at me and for the second time that day I saw tears fill his eyes. I don't think he was trying to fight them back this time, however, and one soon ran down his cheek. "I told Bart you didn't want me."

Panic filled me. I'd never intended to make the boy cry and I wasn't sure where he'd gotten the idea he wasn't wanted. Certainly, it was something I'd struggled with, but I didn't think I'd made it obvious to him. "What gives you that notion?" I asked quickly hoping to fend off complete hysterics. That was all I needed, to have to call on Bart or Doralice to come help me talk the boy down from a fit.

"You don't have a place for me," he said wiping at his eyes.

"That's not really a fair assessment," I countered. "To be frank I don't have a place for me either."

"Where am I supposed to stay?"

"I always find a place for me to stay. You wouldn't be out on the streets."

"You didn't come to get me. Mister Winters had to bring me here."

"I arranged that. There were pressing matters I had to take care of first. I sent you here so you could be cared for until I got them sorted out."

"No one knew where you were." That was definitely an accusation.

"I was traveling. It's difficult to correspond when one doesn't stay in one place for long." I was handling this rather well I thought. I was providing clear, quick, and logical answers to all his questions.

"Why did you never come to see us before?"

"I explained that; I didn't know your mother wanted me to. I didn't even know about you until Mister Winters told me about you. I am here now."

The boy stared at me with those dark eyes for a long moment and I noticed something in his look had changed. "Then you really do want me to come with you?"

Panic filled me anew as I realized I hadn't been handling this well at all. What I'd done was stroll right into a trap. I couldn't say no without hurting the boy, which I didn't want to do, but saying yes would mean accepting him. For good. My mind was working feverishly to come up with an answer before the boy could call me out again. "I want you to be happy and cared for, Jack." That was true. I would do that for Lenora. Even if I hadn't fathered the boy I'm not so heartless as to simply toss him out. "If you would be happier staying here with the Mavericks . . . ."

"I wanna come with you."

A chill ran down my spine. He wanted to come with me. "You haven't been happy here?" He'd made the pronouncement so quickly I wondered if he meant what he'd said. Not to mention having him here was my last resort, my last hope of getting out of this. I couldn't make a case for leaving him if he didn't want to stay.

He looked to the door and then back at me. "Yes, but . . . why can't I come? You're my daddy."

Thank God I have a good poker face, otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to cover my reaction to those words. My last resort had failed. There was nothing else I could do or say to change my fate. To argue further would hurt the boy, dishonor the memory of the woman I . . . the woman who'd meant something to me, and likely incur the wrath of every Maverick in Little Bend. My fate was sealed. There was nothing left to do but accept it. I gave the boy my most reassuring smile. "If that's what you want, of course, you may come."

The boy's face lit up with a dazzling grin and before I knew what was happening, he jumped up and put his arms around me. For a moment I was too stunned to respond, but slowly my wits returned and I gently pulled him away from me. "I think it's time for you to get some sleep."

Again, a simple okay was the response but I couldn't help but notice the boy seemed more animated than before; the word wasn't as forlorn sounding as it had been all the other times I'd heard it today. He lay back down and I made quick work of pulling the covers over him.

"Goodnight, Jack," I said softly as I turned down the lamp. The boy responded with a smile and a good night of his own.

I stepped back into the hall and the gravity of what I'd just done hit me like a blow. I leaned against the door a moment trying not to panic. What had I done? I tried to tell myself that seeing after the welfare of one small boy couldn't be that hard but that thought did nothing to help my panic. In a long line of questionable choices I've made, this one would likely stand out as the biggest.

You're my daddy. I felt an odd tightening in my chest as I remembered the simple statement and slight smile. I'd seen something in his eyes at that moment, something that said he trusted me. Why he did I couldn't say, but it was sort of nice to know someone did. Taking a deep breath I started back to the parlor to tell the Mavericks of my decision. I also tried to tell myself the tightening I felt in my chest was nothing more than indigestion.