Chapter 11 – By Any Other Name
Friday morning dawned bright and clear, and it was well past nine o'clock when Bart finally woke up. He'd waited the rest of the week quietly, peacefully, knowing that Dalton Dupree was due back home today, and either all the missing pieces would fall into place and he would understand the whole mess, or all hell would break loose and anyone could end up dead. He was hoping for the former and not the latter.
Breakfast consisted of toast, scrambled eggs and so many cups of coffee that he lost track. He was surprised to find that he was – what? – nervous? Not exactly that. Anxious. Concerned. Confused. Tired of waiting. He left half the food and drank two more cups of coffee before paying and heading for the livery. The ride back out to the Dupree farm was uneventful, and a knot grew in the pit of his stomach. He had no idea when Dalton would be arriving, or how he'd be traveling. Was he finally going to confront the man that had threatened his life, his very existence, and stolen what amounted to a fortune from him? Or would something happen to delay the meeting?
Things were unnaturally quiet when he arrived at the house. No sign of Taffy the pony, Sara Beth or Janie. And certainly no sign of Dalton. Bart dismounted at the house and tied up his horse, looking around to see if anyone was visible out in the corral or barn. As he got to the door and knocked he heard something but he couldn't quite tell what it was. There was no answer and he knocked again and called out "Janie, are you here? It's Bart." There, he heard the noise again. It sounded like a low moan. "Janie! Sara Beth!"
Suddenly the door swung open but there was no one there until he glanced down and saw Sara Beth running frantically away from the door. "Sara Beth! It's Bart. Come back!" Then he heard the sound again, and this time there was no mistaking it. It was a woman's voice, moaning. 'Janie! She must be hurt!' He went rushing in, following the rooms until he found a closed door and threw it open. The sight that greeted him almost scared the life out of him.
Jane Dupree was on the floor moaning, and it was evident she was trying to have the baby. He rushed over to her and turned her over on her back, and her eyes fluttered open briefly. "Bart," she murmured. "Baby . . . . . . "
There wasn't enough time to ride back to town and fetch the doctor. "Sara Beth!" he yelled and the little girl came running. "Here, honey, I have to go hitch up the wagon. You stay here and hold mommy's hand. I'll be right back." He put the child's hand in her mothers and scrambled to his feet. 'Hurry, Bart,' his mind told him, and he ran out the door and to the barn.
Janie must have been trying to get the horses hitched when everything started; the task was hallway completed. He hurriedly finished the job and guided the horses out of the barn and through the corral, stopping when he got them to the house. He ran in and picked up Sara Beth, carrying her back outside and depositing her in the wagon bed on a blanket he'd found in the barn and laid down for protection against the rough boards. With a few words of reassurance to the child, he rushed back to the bedroom and gently picked Janie Dupree up in his arms, hurrying as fast as he could with his precious cargo. He laid Janie down next to Sara Beth and scrambled back up on the wagon seat, doing his best to drive the horses forward with as little jostling as possible. As soon as he got them going at a good clip he turned his head to Sara Beth. She was gripping her mother's hand and looked terrified. "It's alright, honey, your momma's gonna have your sister or brother, we just have to hurry and get her to the doctor." Janie was doing some low-level moaning but was conscious for the most part, and she held onto her daughter's hand as tight as she dared. Bart drove the wagon down the road as fast as he could risk, trying not to cause any more jostling than necessary. He strained to remember where he'd seen the doctor's office and just as he arrived in town it came back to him – it was almost across the street from the café he'd eaten supper at.
The horses nearly skidded to a halt and Bart jumped down and rushed back to his helpless passengers. He got Sara Beth out first and set her gently on the ground. "You follow me," he told the little girl. Then he reached in and carefully picked up her mother, who was again loudly moaning, and carried her inside, past the front door that read 'John Fager, Doctor.' "Doc Fager," he yelled as he got into the front office, and a man that was obviously the doctor came running out. "She's havin' the baby," Bart informed him unnecessarily.
"Bring her back here," the doctor told him, and he carried Janie into the examine room carefully, Sara Beth clinging to his coat. "Where's Dalton?" the doctor asked, and Bart shook his head.
"Not home yet," he answered. "I found her on the floor." He laid her down on the exam table and grabbed Sara Beth's hand. "Do you need me for anything, Doc?"
"No, no, take Sara out of here," the doctor told him. "Go get the child some food, Mr.?"
"Jamison," Bart answered. "Family friend." He bent down and scooped Sara Beth up into his arms. "Come on, honey. Doc's gonna take care of your mommy now. We have to sit outside so he can do his job."
"Mommy!" Sara Beth screamed and clung even tighter to Bart. "Is Mommy going to die?"
"No, Sara, your mommy is not gonna die," Bart promised the child and carried her back into the waiting room. He sat her in a chair and closed the exam room door behind him. "Did your mother get to make you breakfast this mornin'?" Big tears started to roll down Sara Beth's face and she shook her head 'no.' "Are you hungry?" Once again, a shake of the head. "Not even for flapjacks?" the tears quickly stopped and a smile returned.
"Flapjacks? With maple syrup?" she asked.
"With all the maple syrup you want."
"Okay." He scooped her up again and carried her across the street to the café. There were few people inside and a waitress came right over. "We would like flapjacks for Miss Sara Beth, with a big glass of milk if you have any left. And lots of maple syrup. And just coffee for me, please."
The waitress nodded and hurried off, and the little girl looked at Bart solemnly. "You're sure Mommy's gonna be alright?"
"I'm sure. But when you see your momma again you're gonna be a big sister. What do you think about that?"
"I wanna little brother. I miss Thomas."
'You sure you want a brother? What if it's a sister instead?"
"Do we hafta keep it if it's a girl?"
Bart laughed. From what Pappy told him, Bret had said something similar before he was born. "Yes, Sara Beth, you hafta keep her. Your momma and daddy won't wanna give her back." Dalton. He wouldn't know where Janie or Sara Beth were when he got home. A minimum amount of investigation should give him some clues, with the horses and wagon gone. Surely he would figure it out.
In just a few minutes the child was happily chewing flapjacks and Bart was drinking another cup of coffee. Sara Beth was about halfway done with her breakfast when the sheriff entered the café. "Mr. Jamison. And Miss Sara Beth. What are you doin' in town? And where's your Momma?"
Bart got up from the table and took the sheriff by the elbow, moving him a few feet away from the table. "Mrs. Dupree is currently at Doc's office, havin' the baby. I rode out to the house this mornin' and found her. Got her here as fast as I could. Any idea when Dalton's due to be back?"
"No," the sheriff shook his head. "All I know is today. How is she?"
"Fine, I think. Doc told me to go feed Sara Beth, so that's what I did."
"Bart, is Mommy alright?" the little girl called out.
"Yes ma'am, she's doin' just fine," Bart told her. He turned back to the lawman. "I'll take her back over as soon as she's done with breakfast."
Sheriff Gage grinned. "She's really taken with you. Sara Beth's kinda . . . . . . "
"I know. Shy. Keep an eye out for Dalton, would ya? And send him on over?"
"Will do. Glad you went out there."
"I know," Bart sighed. "I am, too." They shook hands and the sheriff left the café. Bart returned to the table to find Sara Beth almost finished.
"I'm full," she announced and set her fork down.
"You sure?" Bart asked. She nodded in answer, and Bart picked up her fork and speared the last pieces of flapjack, putting them in his own mouth. "Thanks for leavin' me a bite."
"Welcome.," she giggled. "Can we go back to mommy now?" She looked at him expectantly.
"Yes, ma'am. Just let me pay for breakfast." He left money on the table and collected his young friend, walking her back across the street to the doctor's office. The exam room door was still closed but there were unfamiliar sounds coming from the room. Bart sat down in one of the chairs out front and Sara Beth crawled up into his lap. She leaned her head against his chest and in just a few minutes she'd fallen asleep. He shifted slightly and put his arm around her, to keep her from sliding off. They sat that way for almost half an hour until he heard a soft cry; Baby Dupree had been born.
Before the doctor could come out and say anything the front door opened and a man strode in. Somewhere near forty years old, he was tall and slim; hard muscled, with reddish-blonde hair just like the child asleep in Bart's arms. "Sara Beth?" he asked, and the little girl stirred, opened her eyes and smiled.
"Daddy!" she cried and slid down off Bart's lap. Obviously Dalton Dupree. But this man was not the gunslinger George Henry that he'd encountered in Cheyenne, Wyoming. Bart blinked and stared at the person in front of him. What was going on?