Chapter 5 – Daddy Talk
It didn't take long for Bret and Bart to get things organized around back. Pappy and Bentley were ensconced in comfortable chairs, another of Pauly and Doralice's designs, in the shade and away from the wild Indians running in the yard. At the moment they appeared to be involved in a game of 'rescue the damsels.' Not that Grace or Lily actually needed rescuing, but they were outnumbered by the boys, and if they wanted to play, they played along.
"Here, boys, quit chasin' the girls around," Bret called as he got Pappy seated.
"Beauregard, what are you all playin', anyway?"
"Rescue the girls, daddy."
"Why not rescue the boys?" Bart asked, laughing.
"Cause there's more of us."
All logic was dispensed with as the dogs came running to join in the fray. "Good lord, how do you stand the noise?" Beau shouted above the cacophony.
"Eh, what'd you say? I can't hear you, there's too much noise," Bret laughed.
"Don't tease the boy like that, Breton. His children are grown, and he doesn't remember what it was like to have little ones around," Pappy chastised his oldest son, grinning as he did so.
"Daddy, daddy, snails," Bodeen begged his father in a language only Bret would understand.
"If Beauregard will take all of you down there," Bret answered.
Bart motioned for his oldest son to come over, and asked him seriously, "Will you keep watch on the little ones? And stay right at the edge of the stream where we can see you?"
"Yes, sir," Beauregard answered solemnly.
"Gracie, you help him," Bret instructed.
Gracie's little head nodded. "Come on Breton, Lily, come with me. Bartley and Bodeen, you go with Beauregard." Breton took Lily's hand and they both followed their cousin. Meanwhile, Beauregard walked slowly with Bartley and Bodeen, and they all headed for the bank of the creek, less than fifty yards from the edge of the properties. All the hounds followed, wagging their tails furiously.
"You've got them pretty well trained, boys. Do they always behave that well?" Bentley questioned.
Bret and Bart looked at each other and broke into fits of laughter. Pappy quickly joined them. "Ben, most of the time they're typical kids. They're on their best behavior right now, and Lord only knows how long that'll last. But they're good kids, especially given what some of 'em have been through."
The three middle-generation Mavericks brought out more chairs, and everyone sat facing the stream at the edge of the clearing, which was really nothing more than a creek. It was still for a few minutes and then Beau brought up what he hoped wouldn't be a sore subject. "I can't get over how much Gracie favors you, Bret."
Bret just grinned. "That's what everybody says. Besides the fact that her father was one of my best friends, we looked alike. That doesn't hurt."
"Does she know?" Beau asked.
"We've told her, but I'm the only daddy she's known and it doesn't seem to matter to her. She's just as much a Maverick as everybody else."
"Bret's a lucky man," Bart reminded everyone.
"Yes, he is. But he's not the only one, Bartley." The use of his full name made Bart grimace.
"You could have given me a better warning about twins, Beau," Bart shot back, chuckling as he did so.
"Wouldn't have done you any good. At least I could tell mine apart."
Pappy couldn't stay out of it. "I think he's got you there, son."
"I could tell them apart," Bart defended himself. "Eventually." There was a long pause before he added, "Besides, Maudie had colic and cried all the time."
"All the time?"
"All the time," Bret insisted. "Except when I held her."
Beau started laughing and couldn't stop. "Was it the dimples?" he finally choked out.
Bret shrugged and Bart threw a rock at Beau. There was a small commotion at the creek, and all heads were instantly paying attention. It turned out to be Miss Betty Lou chasing one of Melody's descendants through the water. "Beauregard!" his father yelled. "Don't let Betty Lou chase the cat!"
"Yes, Pa!"
"That's my namesake," Pappy beamed with pride. "A forty-year-old man in an eight-year old's body."
Bart nodded. "He's been that way his whole life. I wonder just how much affect the kidnappin' had on him."
Bret shook his head. "None, Bart. Remember when he announced he didn't want me to call him Scooter anymore? And that it should be Beauregard? What was he, four? Bartley is four and he has trouble puttin' two sentences together."
"Just like his Uncle Bart?" Bentley inquired.
Bart looked chagrinned. "I think I did alright, Ben, for a boy that wasn't interested in anything but poker and leavin' Little Bend."
"Yes, you did, nephew, and I wasn't tryin' to poke fun at you. Just wanted to point out that because a man's slow and soft-spoken now don't mean he's gonna stay that way. Why, Bartley could be a genius, and a late bloomer besides."
"Bartley ain't no genius, by any means. But he's a sweet-natured child, and he takes good care of Bodeen when Ginny and me are both workin'." Bret was proud of his children and made no attempt to hide his feelings.
"That's the way Breton is with Lily," Bart explained. "Somehow he just knew she needed attention, and he assumed the role."
Beau shook his head and looked thoroughly confused. "I can't believe you two are the same men who sat in my living room when my twins were born. I would've bet everything I owned that neither of you would ever settle down, and just look at you. Married, children everywhere, successful ranchers – I just can't get over it."
"People might've looked at you and thought the same thing, nephew," Pappy reminded everyone softly. "And look how you turned out. What are you doing these days?"
"He's just about the most successful land broker in Baton Rouge," Bentley explained proudly. "Got an office with four people workin' for him. You want to buy or sell any kind of property, with or without buildings on it, Beau's your man."
"Wait," Bart interrupted, "weren't you . . . "
"Yeah," Beau answered honestly, "but it didn't work out. Neither did any of the other things I tried. But then I kinda fell into this by accident . . . and it was like when I helped Jody at the saloon. I was good at it, and I enjoyed it, so I just kept at it. And pretty soon . . . well, there I was with an office and a staff. And a profitable business."
"I'd say we've all done right well for poker players. Agreed?"
There was a low murmur amongst the group; a contented murmur. Little Bodeen came waddling up towards the men, a beatific smile on his face and his hands full of snails. He deposited them at Bret's feet, and Bret started chuckling. He reached out and ruffled Bodeen's hair, laughing as he did so. "That's my boy," he stated proudly.
