Chapter 7 – Amen
Twenty-four hours later Beau Maverick was back in his hotel room at the Belle Union, installed on the bed, sound asleep. Brother Ben slept in an over-stuffed chair next to him; his sons each had a spot on the floor as close as they could get to the bed. When the knock came on the door all four were awake; one of them had his gun drawn.
"Who is it?" Ben asked before opening the door.
"Marshal Dutton," came the answer.
Both sons had scrambled to their feet by the time the marshal got into the room. "How's he doin' this evenin'?" Dutton asked, and Ben nodded.
"Sleepin', mostly. Doc gave him that Laudanum to hold down the pain, and it keeps him pretty well out most of the time. Did you need somethin', marshal?"
"I just came by to tell you the inquiry's unofficially closed, Mr. Maverick. Everybody I spoke to told me the same story – Hansboro walked into the saloon and pulled his gun, shot your brother in the stomach and just kept shooting at you all until he went down. Self-defense."
"Thanks, Dutton."
"How long you gonna be in Abilene?"
"Looks like another week. Soon as we can load him in a wagon, we'll be on our way. Do you need somethin' before we go?"
The marshal hesitated. "Do you think you could come down to the office and sign a statement for me?"
"Is that all you need from us?" Ben asked.
"That's it, Mr. Maverick. Then I can close everything. Officially."
"Is it ready right now?"
"Yes, sir. It's finished and sittin' on my desk."
"Then let's go get it signed, Dutton."
In five minutes Ben and the marshal were gone, and father and sons were left in the room alone. "Do we have to wait a week?" murmured the man in the bed.
"Yes, Pappy, we do. You're not fit to ride all the way back to Little Bend right now," Bret told his father.
"And no ifs, ands or buts," Bart added.
"This is payback, isn't it? For all those times I told you no."
Bret and Bart looked at each other and smiled.
"Yes."
"No."
"Might as well give it up, pa, even Uncle Ben says no."
"Ah, what does Ben know? This hole ain't in his gut, it's in mine." Beau sighed and changed subjects. "Some birthday present this trip turned out to be, eh?"
Bret let a big grin spread across his face as he sat down in the chair by Beau's bedside. "Some birthday present, Pappy. I couldn't have asked for nor gotten a better one."
"What, me shot up in this bed?" Beau's eyebrow went up, a trait his younger son would emulate in the future.
"You, Pappy, alive."
"Yeah, Pa, what are you gonna do for my birthday?" Bart asked as he sat on the edge of his father's bed.
"I think I'll take a pass on gettin' shot."
"You have all the fun," the younger Maverick told his brother.
"Again? Who's got the hole in their gut?" Beau tried to laugh and ended up howling in pain. He was still choking and snorting when Ben returned five minutes later.
"I leave you alone with your Pa for five minutes and you try to kill him?"
The brothers looked chagrined and turned serious. "Pappy wants to go home, Uncle Ben."
"It's too soon."
"It's my gut," Beau insisted.
Ben sighed. "Why do I even try with you?"
"Is this what we're gonna be like when we're . . . old?" asked Bart.
"Of course not," Bret replied.
"You'll probably be worse," Ben told them both.
"Way worse," their father agreed.
"Huh! I'd like to see that," Bret insisted.
"I've no doubt that you will, my boy. And I hope that I'm still around to remind you of the day the premature death of Beauregard Maverick was the main topic of discussion."
"Amen," Ben stated flatly.
"Amen," added Bart.
"Enough with the Amen's," insisted Beauregard. "Let's go home."
The End