Bart – Gut Punched

I rested my head against the bars of the jail cell. My left eye hurt, and I was sure when all was said and done I'd have a black eye. That wasn't the only thing hurtin'; my jaw felt swollen and my mouth was sore. I turned my head slightly to the right and got a good look at my brother. He didn't look much better than I felt; both eyes were closed and puffy, and there was a large red welt forming on his cheek. "What hurts?" I asked him, and he never moved a muscle.

"Everything," Bret answered. "How many of him were there?"

"Just the one." I was pretty sure of that. How could one person inflict so much damage on two of us?

My brother still hadn't opened his eyes. "Pappy's gonna kill us."

Then we heard the voice that could still put fear into our hearts. "Maybe. Maybe not."

I jumped to our defense. "Pappy, he started it . . ."

"Quiet, Bartley. There are two of you. You should be ashamed."

"We didn't wanna hurt him, Pappy." I winced when Bret spoke up. Pappy wasn't impressed with the remark, either.

"That's your excuse?" I could hear the disdain in the voice, and I turned my head so I didn't have to see his face. ""You didn't want to hurt him, Breton?"

"He did start it, Pappy. He was doggin' Bret on the River Belle, and he's been aggravatin' him ever since." I could tell by the look I got from Pappy that it was time for me to shut up and let my brother speak for himself.

"Well, Breton?" Whatever patience Pappy had was in short supply at three o'clock in the morning.

"Bart's right, Martin Langley's been followin' me around ever since you took up with Olivia."

"Took up with Olivia?" That disdainful tone was back in Pappy's voice, the kind he used when he'd gotten into it with Elwood Singer. Haughty and cold. He'd just put Bret on a short leash.

"Martin was her fiancé. When you stepped in to help her, she quit speaking to him. He keeps followin' me, thinkin' that because we look alike I'll have some kind of influence over her. It doesn't matter what I tell him, he doesn't believe me."

"So you assault the man in the middle of the gaming salon?" Pappy looked at me, like I was the one that was supposed to answer him. I knew better. Big Brother was more than capable of gettin' himself out of hot water. Except when he wasn't.

"What was I supposed to do? He hauled off and slugged Bart for no reason. My brother's layin' on the floor and the man's gettin' ready to hit me next!" That wasn't exactly the way it happened. Langley was tryin' to chew Bret's ear off, and big brother turned his back on the spurned fiancé. When Martin reached out and grabbed Bret by the arm to turn him back around, I took exception to the manhandling and pulled Martin off of Bret. That's when Langley hit me. I was sprawled on the casino floor when the 'brawl' started.

Pappy looked confused, like he'd just heard three different versions of the same event. The marshal was about fifteen feet away at his desk, and that's who Pa turned to for the official version. "Marshal, much as I hate to admit it right now, these two belong to me. What are they charged with and what's their bail?"

"Five hundred dollars. Each." The lawman had a grin on his face that just wouldn't quit. "And they're charged with drunk and disorderly." According to all the witnesses to the brawl, the brothers he had behind bars were responsible for most of the damage done to the hotel. "And a thousand dollar fine for property damage."

The sound of disgust had crept back into Pappy's voice. "So, two thousand dollars to get both of them out. And that's all? You know we're leavin' town in the mornin'?"

The smile on the marshal's face got even bigger. "Four thousand dollars if y'all don't leave. And I will be checkin' the hotel to make sure you're gone. We got enough troublemakers in this town as it is."

Pappy's glare wandered from Bret 's face to mine and back again. "You do that, marshal. We'll be on the boat that leaves for Houston." He aimed his scowl in my direction. "Drunk and disorderly, Bartley? Drunk? Didn't I tell you not to drink that stuff?" There was something else in his voice now, and it sounded like pain. "Didn't I tell you often enough what happens when you drink?"

"But, we . . . " I started.

Bret's voice cut in, and it was angry. "We weren't drunk, Pappy. Neither one of us had a drop of anything but coffee. Langley was drunk, but not us."

Without Pappy's acknowledgment that he believed Bret, he resumed questioning the marshal. "What about the other fellow involved in all this? Was he drunk? And what's his bail?"

I guess the lawman didn't really have to answer Pappy, but he did. "Oh yes, Mr. Langley. Mr. Langley was also charged with drunk and disorderly, and his bail's already been paid. I released him about an hour ago."

"Who paid his bail?" I asked, expecting it to be the blonde I'd seen him with yesterday.

The marshal picked a piece of paper off his desk and read what was on it. "Martin Langley, charged with drunk and disorderly, bail set at five hundred dollars and fine imposed of an additional five hundred dollars. Paid in full by Miss Olivia Ames."

I stared at Bret, and Bret stared at Pappy. Pappy looked like he'd just been gut-punched. It took him a minute to recover. "Where do I pay the bail, marshal?"