Chapter 11 – Dear God
Benny heard the faintest sound, and he looked up to see Bart Maverick picking his way through the underbrush towards their hiding place. Out of habit he nudged Maudie and realized just as she squealed "Poppy!" that he shouldn't have done that. Dusty snorted, and one of the rustlers yelled a warning; suddenly there were bullets flying everywhere. Benny and Bart locked eyes for half a second and then the boy pulled himself up on the horse behind the girl. He heard an 'oof' sound, followed by a loud 'thud' and glanced back quickly enough to see Bart's horse running for the bowels of the canyon, his saddle empty. He couldn't see anymore, his complete attention was focused on holding on to Maudie for dear life. They flew past Beau, and his father took off at a gallop, protecting their rear and returning the fire of the rustlers rapidly losing ground on them.
Maudie turned the mare into a thick stand of trees and pulled her up sharp, while Beau was able to skid into the same cover just in time for Decker and Collins to miss them. Both horses stood stiff and quiet while the rustlers passed them by. A few minutes later the outlaws returned, one berating the other for letting them get away. When Art and Bill were out of earshot, Benny realized Maudie was sobbing. Beau rode up alongside them and urged them forward. "Come on, I have to get you home."
"Daddy," she cried. "We have to go back for Daddy."
Beau looked at his son. "Did you see Bart?"
Benny shook his head. "Uncle Bart's . . . dead, Pa. His horse was running down the canyon . . . by himself."
Beau tried to keep the anguish out of his voice, but he wasn't successful. "How do you . . . how do you know that?"
"I heard him hit . . . and saw his horse runnin' away with an empty saddle."
"Noooooo," Maudie moaned. "He can't be. Daddy can't be dead."
"Come on, I'm . . . takin' you home."
"Uncle Beau . . . " Maudie wailed.
"I'll take your Uncle Bret and go back for . . . him. But I'm taking you home first."
It was a miserable trip back to the B Bar M, with Maudie crying the whole way. All Beau could keep thinking was 'Bart can't be dead. He can't be dead.'
Everyone came running out of the house when they saw the riders approaching. There was laughing and yelling that died down ever so slowly as Maudie folded herself into her mother's arms, and the only sound left was her sobbing. Doralice looked straight at Beau. "Where is he, Beau? Where's Bart?"
"Benny . . . Benny said Bart was hit. He's dead, Doralice."
Doralice stared back at Beau and shook her head. "Did you see him, Beau? Did you see him dead?"
"No." It was loud and firm, and it came from Bret. "No, he's not. You're mistaken, Benny. I'd know if he was gone."
"Bret . . . "
"Water the horses. We'll give them an hour's rest, then we're goin' back out to find my brother."
"Alright," Beau agreed. "Alright, I'll go. I don't want him gone any more than you do."
"Uncle Bret," Benny protested. "I heard the gunshot, and I heard him hit the ground. Uncle Bart's . . . Uncle Bart's dead."
"No, Benny. Just because you heard him fall doesn't mean he's gone. We're goin' out after him."
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A little less than an hour later the horses were saddled and ready to go. Pappy stood next to Bret, silent but with a hand on his eldest son's arm. "I know, Pappy, I'll bring him home."
"Please, Bret. I . . . I need my boy."
"Beau, you ready?"
Beau nodded. "Let's go."
The cousins mounted and headed back out towards Bryce Canyon. They rode for almost an hour in silence, lost in their own thoughts and prayers that they'd find Bart injured but alive. As they approached the canyon, both men dismounted and led their horses into the rock enclosure where Bart had last been seen. The area was deserted; the rustlers had moved the stolen horses further north.
There was blood on the ground, and plenty of it, but no body and no sign of a freshly dug grave. They followed the blood trail, down into the canyon, but it came to a sudden halt about fifty yards further on. Bret looked up when he reached the end of it. "He ain't dead, Beau."
"Dead bodies quit bleeding, Bret."
Bret glared at his cousin. "Why would they carry a dead body with them? They'd bury it. I ain't seen no grave, have you?"
Beau had to admit Bret had a point. "Look, this isn't gonna get the horses back. I'm going to double back into Little Bend and get the sheriff to form a posse. You keep following the trail and we'll catch up with you. And if you find them, don't try and be a hero."
Bret nodded and kept following the trail of the horses; Beau turned his mount toward Little Bend.
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Doralice found her oldest child in the bedroom, crying. "Maudie, honey, you're gonna make yourself sick. Please stop." Doralice pulled the hair out of her daughter's eyes and found herself with two armful's of little girl.
"It's my fault, momma. I looked up and saw him, and called out 'Poppy!' And they heard me and started shootin'! If he's dead, it's my fault! Oh, momma, I killed him!"
"Shhh! It's alright, Maudie. You didn't kill him. He's not dead. I just know it, he's not dead." And Doralice rocked her little girl until Maudie fell sound asleep. Meanwhile, big tears rolled quietly down Doralice's cheeks. She prayed to God she was right.
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"Beauregard, you haven't heard a word I've said," Maude told the man she was going to marry.
Beauregard turned his head and stared blankly at his fiancé. "What?" They were lying in bed together, trying to take a nap, when Maude realized why he hadn't heard her. She wrapped him in her arms and rocked him gently, much the way her daughter had rocked her granddaughter. He never made a sound but she felt his shoulders shake, and she did her best to comfort him. She knew exactly how he felt; she could still remember the nights she'd cried herself to sleep when Doralice was in Mexico, about to be hanged, and there was nothing she could do to ease the pain of losing her beloved child.
"Shhh! It's alright, Beauregard. Bret will bring him home. One way or the other, Bret will bring him home." She prayed to God she was right.
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Benny had been wandering around the house all afternoon, trying to locate a spot where he could find some comfort. He'd just about given up when he discovered Belle and Abby down by the creek bank, asleep in each other's arms, big tear-stained faces on each other's shoulders. They heard him at the same time, and both sat up just as he lowered himself into the grass next to them. All three stared at each other and burst into tears, each one crying at the thought of losing a beloved uncle or father. They tried to soothe each other's pain and prayed to God that Bart would be found alive.
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Beauregard found his brother and sister, Breton and Lily in Lily's bed, with their arms around each other, sound asleep. Beauregard knelt down next to the bed and prayed to God. "Please let Daddy be alright. Breton and Lily need him; I need him. Dear God, we all love him and want him back. Please. I promise to be on my best behavior for as long as I can last. Amen."
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Ginny lay in bed with Grace in her arms and Bartley and Bodeen scrunched up against her back. All four had drifted off to sleep while Ginny prayed out loud, "Dear Lord and Savior, please help Bret to find Bart alive. I don't want to think what might happen to my husband if he lost his brother. These three little children need their Daddy, and their Daddy needs his brother. And I need my friend. Please, God."
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Lily Mae sat at the kitchen table and drank coffee all afternoon, murmuring one prayer after another. She prayed for strength for Bret and Beau, for healing powers for Bart, and for peace and comfort for 'Mr. B.' "Please take care of my boy, and bring him home to us safely. We all need him here with us, God. Protect him until he can be found. It's the only thing this old woman asks."
