Bret – The Encounter

When I first left Bart I was more concerned about how I was going to explain why he hadn't come down with me than breaking up Pappy's . . . whatever it is Pappy's doing. Honestly, my first reaction to Bart's hysteria was that he was crazy. It wouldn't be the first time Bart's gone a little crazy at the idea of Pappy getting married again, and I had even been there with him before. That was when we were much younger of course. It hadn't taken too long to figure out Pappy's dalliances were just that, dalliances. His heart had only ever belonged to Mama and, as far as I could tell, it still did. Pappy had never allowed himself to get caught up in anything permanent nor had he ever shown any signs he was looking for anything permanent. Then or now.

That wasn't to say what we'd seen today wasn't odd. I'd be the first to admit it was, but I still thought Bart was overreacting some. While we weren't likely to see the backside of Olivia Ames as long as we were in New Orleans, I was positive when the time came for us to go home, Pappy would bid her a fond farewell, and leave her with many happy memories, as he always did. Still, Bart is my brother, and he was very serious about this. I figured the very least I could do for him was try to avert Olivia's attention away from Pappy a little. Judging by what I'd seen in the room, she was smitten with Pappy, and it probably wasn't a bad idea she be reminded there were plenty of other men in the world. A lot of them much closer to her own age. I just had to find a way to remind her without it being too obvious to Pappy what I was doing.

All this was running through my mind as I went downstairs to catch up with Pappy and Olivia. I was just about to cross the lobby when I saw him, Martin Langley. He was standing at the edge of the dining room and looking inside, a scowl on his face. It wasn't hard to guess what he'd just seen, and it was going to be impossible to get to the dining room without walking past him. I could wait, but who knew how long he'd stay there, and Pappy would get testy if he had to wait too long for us. He was already going to wonder about Bart. I sighed and resigned myself to another encounter with him; this was the perfect ending to the perfect day.

I was vainly hoping that Martin would be so absorbed by Pappy and Olivia he wouldn't notice me, but I wasn't that lucky. Langley not only saw me, he made a grab for my arm when I walked by. Now I can handle being stared at while I eat, and I don't really mind being followed, but Langley was crossing a line by putting his hands on me. I stopped and drilled him with a glare. "Can I help you?"

Langley dropped his hand, but the defiant look remained. "I thought you said nothing was going on."

"I did not say that," I told Langley trying to use the few inches of height I had on him to my advantage. "I said as far as I knew he wanted nothing from her, and as far as I still know, that hasn't changed. Nor has my opinion of things. If you have an issue with Mister Maverick, talk to him about it."

Langley looked back into the dining room and he seemed to deflate some. I must have been imagining it though because when he looked at me again, that same hardness was in his eyes. "I don't believe that."

I sighed. "I really don't care if you believe it or not."

I turned to walk away and Langley grabbed my arm again. This time he didn't back down from my glare. "He has to want something. Why else would an old man be keeping company with a young lady?"

That was the second time he'd insinuated Pappy had something untoward in mind, and I didn't appreciate it anymore now than I had then. Maybe I didn't care for how Pappy had taken up with Miss Ames, but never had it crossed my mind Pappy would do anything to disrespect a lady. He's not as lacking in moral fiber as some folks think.

I shook his hand off my arm again, and took a step closer to Langley. "My father isn't in the habit of sullying the reputations of young ladies, and if you have any accusations to make perhaps you need to direct them at him. And I suggest you be ready to deal with the consequences such an accusation might bring."

That seemed to get his attention, and the bravado slipped a bit. "It – it wasn't an accusation. I was merely saying that most would find the association questionable."

"Maybe, but as I told you, talk to them, not me."

"I can't," Langley snapped. "Olivia refuses to talk to me and I can't get near her with that old . . . your father around her every minute of the day.

"Well, then, that's your problem. And again, I'll thank you to leave me out of it."

Langley scoffed. "I'd think you'd have concerns of your own."

"Meaning what?"

He gestured towards the dining room and raised an eyebrow. "That's your father. You have no objections to his escorting a girl that's barely of age all over this city?"

The comment hit a nerve, although I didn't let Langley see it. No, I didn't really like it, but I wasn't about to let Langley know that. "What my father does is his business, not mine."

"This is serious, Maverick."

I noticed a couple of people in the lobby turned their heads to look at us, and I decided this ridiculous encounter had gone on long enough. "Look, Langley, I don't know how to make myself any plainer than I already have. I can't, nor do I care, to help you."

"Fine," Langley snapped. "But I'm telling you if anything happens to her . . . "

"Are you threatening me?"

Langley sort of gave me a smirk. "No, sir, it's not a threat, just a warning. Olivia's a respectable lady. He had better not ruin that." He looked at the couple in question one last time before addressing me again. "Good evening."

I watched in confusion as he left. I wasn't sure what to make of Martin Langley. At first I'd thought him a little weasel looking for someone else to fight his battles for him, now I wasn't so sure. I was still wondering about the trouble he'd supposedly made for her too. He seemed awfully concerned about her reputation for a man who needed to learn how to treat a lady. I wasn't going to waste any more time thinking about him now, however; I had bigger things to worry about. Like how likely was Pappy to get serious about Olivia?

Just a few minutes ago I'd thought Bart was crazy and overreacting, now I wasn't so sure. Pappy wouldn't do anything to ruin Olivia's reputation, but he was spending an awful lot of time with her. I could believe that maybe he was just enjoying the company of someone he liked, but what about Olivia? Pappy was old enough to be her father, her grandfather if I wanted to nitpick. Was she just spending time with someone she liked, or did she have plans for something more? It seemed unlikely, but it didn't take a lot of effort to see she was more than a little taken with Pappy, and she definitely had him wrapped around her little finger. And then there was Langley; she didn't seem too concerned about the man she was supposed to marry. Suddenly Bart didn't seem all that crazy anymore.

Feeling a renewed sense of urgency, I hurried to the table where Pappy and Olivia were already seated. Olivia was giggling about something, and Pappy was grinning; they both looked too comfortable with one another. I hoped the dimples were enough to get Olivia's attention, because Pappy could offer some stiff competition.

"I'm not late, am I?" I asked as I sat down, giving Olivia a grin of my own when she looked up.

"Of course not," Olivia said, giving me a slight smile before her attention went right back to Pappy. "Beauregard's been keeping me entertained. He's just filled with fascinating stories."

"I'm sure he is."

"Where have you been?" Pappy asked gruffly. "I thought you were coming right down."

"Sorry, Pappy. I saw an acquaintance in the lobby and stopped for a minute."

Pappy sort of grunted in response, then noticed I was alone. "Where's your brother?"

Langley had distracted me from thinking up a good excuse, so I tried for vague. "He'll be down soon." I hoped he would anyway.

"What? He knocks Olivia to the ground because he thought he was late and now he's not even downstairs?"

"It's no trouble, Beauregard," Olivia said sweetly patting Pappy's arm. "I'm sure it's important."

Pappy scoffed. "I wouldn't bet on it. What's he doing?"

The question was aimed at me and I knew I had to tell him something, something that wasn't the truth. I didn't even want to imagine Pappy's reaction to hearing what Bart was really up to. "He . . . wanted to stop and get some cigars."

"Cigars? Why in the world does he need cigars?"

"In case he wants a smoke later, I guess."

"Well, he can't smoke while he's eating."

It was a lame excuse, but it'd been the first thing that had come to mind. Hurry up, Bart, I silently pleaded with my brother. This wasn't going well at all. Pappy was getting more annoyed by the second and Miss Ames would hardly look in my general direction. "He'll be here soon," I told him again.

"What am I gonna do with that boy?" Pappy grumbled. "He keeps us all waitin' because he's got to have a cigar he can't even smoke until . . . "

I saw Bart enter the dining room then and felt a wave of relief wash over me; I needed his help. "He's here," I told Pappy with a grin.

"Bout time," Pappy mumbled. "What took you so long, boy?" he barked when poor Bart finally made it over.

"Sorry, Pappy, I saw someone I thought I knew in the gaming room and wanted to see if it was him before I came to supper."

"Must be somethin' goin' around," I said quietly earning me a funny look from Bart before he suggested a bottle of wine.

Wine? With Pappy? Oh, you do like to live dangerously, don't you, Brother Bart.