Chapter 15 – To Rest with Angels

Clay returned from Granbury with a bottle of laudanum and a whole pocketful of money. "Did you get it?" Jean asked him as he entered the bedroom.

"Of course, but Doc said be careful with it. Don't give more than a swallow or two at a time or the man will do nothin' but sleep."

"Ain't that what we want him to do?" Jean asked.

"Yes, but we want him to wake up first, so we can find out who he is," her husband reminded her.

"Ah, I see where you're goin' with this. Let him become conscious before we put him back to sleep."

"That's it, my love. Any sign that he might be comin' out of it?"

Jean shook her head. "Course I only been in here for a few minutes. You sit in here with him for a while, and I'll start supper."

"Alright. You got any of that salt pork from this mornin'?"

"Yep, and that's what I'm workin' with."

"Good. I brought in several potatoes from the garden when I came in just now. Let me know if you need anything else."

She leaned over and gave her husband a kiss. "No, I've got everything I need in the kitchen. Be a good boy and don't scare our guest to death if he wakes."

"Yes, ma'am."

Jean had only been gone for ten minutes or so when Clay happened to look over at the man in the bed and noticed his eyes were open. "Say, stranger, we been waitin' for you to wake up."

The man didn't say anything, just blinked and continued to stare at Clay. "Jeanie, come in here honey, the stranger's eyes are open."

Jean hurried in and leaned over the bed. "Howdy, Mister. Sorry I can't call you by name, but I don't know what it is. You got no wallet or anything else on you. Can you tell me your name?"

His mouth moved but the DuPont's couldn't hear anything. "What's that? We can't hear you."

In the softest of whispers, the man in bed finally breathed, "Bart."

"Bart what, honey?" Jean asked.

Bart tried to speak, but again nothing came out. Slowly his eyes closed, and Jean leaned over and shook him slightly. "Bart. Bart." She turned to her husband. "He's gone again, Clay."

"Well, at least we know Bart."

"Alright, I'm going back to supper."

Within the hour supper was over and Jean sat with Bart while Clay did the dishes. She'd been there a few minutes when she heard her name and realized it was Bart softly calling her.

"I'm sorry, Bart, I didn't hear you. What do you need, son?"

"Water," was the request, and Jean picked up the glass from the table it sat on and helped Bart get a drink. When he was finished she asked him another question.

"Are you hungry? I've got some salt pork, I can make you some broth."

"Yes'm," came the reply.

"Clay come in here, please." When her husband got there, she made her request quickly. "Stay here with Bart and I'm gonna make him some broth."

"Good enough, momma." He took his wife's chair and sat down next to the bed.

The stranger looked like he wanted to ask a question. Clay leaned over and heard the following: "How did I get here?"

"I ain't gonna lie to you, son. Jean's brother is an outlaw. He brought you here and asked us to take care of you."

"He . . . brought . . . me?"

"Jean said he rode in with you hung over his saddle. Said you were an innocent bystander and he couldn't leave you to die."

"Where?"

"Where are you? About six miles north of Granbury." Clay took a breath. "You got a last name, Bart?"

"Mav . . . Mav . . . "

Jean came hurrying in with some broth. "Get out of the way, husband."

Clay got up quickly and put two or three more pillows behind Bart so that he was almost sitting up. Jean spoon fed the injured man until he'd taken almost two-thirds of the bowl. "That's wonderful," she remarked. She set the bowl down on the table, and when she turned back his eyes were closed and he was asleep.

"He almost told me his last name."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. He got out Mav, but I don't think that's all there was."

"Next time he's awake we'll give him some of the laudanum."

"Sounds good, momma."

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The next two days passed quickly, both at the little farm in Granbury and the ranch in Little Bend. Bart got stronger every day, but still couldn't get out his entire last name, while back at the ranch preparations for a 'funeral' service with no body were made. Of course, the 'burial' would take place in the little graveyard up on the hill.

The day of the funeral, Bret and Beau rode up the hill and dug a grave. When they came back to the house they got cleaned up and dressed, then helped everyone get loaded into the buggies. The procession to the graveyard was quiet and solemn, with Bret driving one buggy and Beau the other. When they got to the cemetery the two men helped everyone out, and they all took their places around the open grave.

Doralice handed the Bible Bart had given her to Beauregard, and he read the 23rd Psalm.

'The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.

He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.'

Beauregard gave the Bible back to Doralice, and Bret picked up the shovel and handed it to his father, who deposited the first shovelful of dirt into the symbolic grave. The shovel was then passed around to each of the Mavericks that was big enough to participate in the ceremony, with Bret depositing the last of the dirt in the 'grave.'

He took off his hat and gripped it tightly in his hands as he spoke. "This ain't fair, Bart. You weren't supposed to go before me, but I guess you didn't have much choice in the matter. I don't know where your body is, but your spirit is here with Momma, where you belong. You left some awful big shoes to fill, and I'm gonna do my best to make your dreams come true. I've loved you my whole life, little brother, and I guess I'll go on lovin' you till the day I die. And I want you to know, if you should ever get tired of bein' gone, we'd welcome you home with open arms. I love you, Brother Bart."

And in the spare bedroom of the little farmhouse in Granbury, Bart cried out in his sleep, "Bret! No, Bret! I'm here!" But there was no one in the bedroom to hear him.