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THE HERO
A Maverick story
By Deana

Disclaimer: I don't own Bart Maverick, darn it.

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Bart Maverick was tired. He'd been riding for days and camping at night, and Bart did not enjoy camping. Sleeping on the ground was just too uncomfortable, especially after riding all day…and how could anyone sleep well with the risk of being bitten by a snake? At the moment, Bart was riding slowly, his body aching too much to ride fast. It was a good thing, for if his horse had been at a gallop, he would never had heard the sound that was probably the last thing he'd ever expected to hear.

A baby crying.

Frowning, Bart stopped his horse and looked around, wondering if there was a woman nearby who needed help. He heard nothing but the cries, and dismounted from his horse with a wince, walking stiffly until his legs loosened up a little. The sound seemed to get softer, so he turned around and tried to follow it…until he felt like he was right on top of it.

Looking up, Bart saw something that shocked him to the core: there was a baby bassinet in the tree over his head. Stunned, he looked around again as if someone would magically appear to explain this bizarre sight.

No one did.

Looking up at the bassinet, Bart covered his mouth with one hand while he contemplated it, wondering for a second if he was dreaming. Resisting the urge to pinch himself, he saw a boulder at the base of the tree, which explained how the baby's mother had reached high enough to put her child there. Shaking his head at the questions that were running through his mind, Bart reached up and took hold of the bassinet, carefully pulling it down and looking inside.

The baby was tiny, appearing to be no more than a month or two old.

In shock again, to actually see the baby and realize that he was not imagining this, Bart sank down to the ground and set the bassinet down, sitting beside it and trying to figure out what to do. Was the baby's mother nearby, perhaps bathing in a nearby lake? No…if so, she would've kept the baby with her on the bank. What had happened was suddenly obvious: the baby's mother had hidden her child…but from what, or who, and where was she now?

There was nothing Bart could do but take the baby with him. As he realized this, Bart took the bassinet and stood again, though he was tempted to remain sitting for a while. A town had to be nearby in order for the baby's mother to have left it here, so he headed over to his horse before suddenly realizing something; what if the mother was lying dead or injured nearby?

Turning, Bart walked around, looking everywhere. He found nothing, to his relief…the last thing he needed was to be accused of murder and kidnapping!

Heading back towards his horse, he realized that he wouldn't be able to mount while holding the bassinet. Placing it on the ground again, he took the blanket off the baby and laid it on the ground, before he gently lifted the baby out and placed it on top. There was a handle on each end of the bassinet, which enabled him to tie it to the horse. Afterwards, he knelt and nervously picked up the baby, holding it upright against his chest with his right hand, which left him able to grab the saddle horn with his left hand to mount. He let out a breath once he was seated, relieved that he hadn't dropped the baby. Looking down at it, he carefully shifted it to lie in his left arm, where it gurgled and moved feebly.

With a sigh, Bart rode on, hoping that he would come upon a town soon…and some answers.

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The baby was crying again when Bart reached town, and he realized that the poor thing must be starving…he had no idea how long it had been in the tree. He headed straight for the hotel, as it was after dark and he was hungry too. It was harder to get down from the horse while holding the baby than it had been to mount it, and he one-handedly grabbed his saddlebag and tossed it over his right shoulder before taking the bassinet off the horse and heading inside.

The desk clerk looked up, surprised to see a man with a baby, especially when said man was dusty and travel-worn.

"I need a room, please," Bart tiredly said, hardly able to keep his eyes open. "A double."

"Of course. Sign here," said the clerk, pointing at the register.

Bart took the quill and did so, awkwardly bouncing the baby in his arm when it continued to cry. "Is the kitchen still open?" he asked, not sure what time it currently was.

The clerk nodded.

"Thank God," Bart sighed. "Can you send something up?"

The clerk nodded. "The best seller tonight was a fabulous beef stew."

Bart nodded. "Perfect." He looked at the baby, who was still crying. "Do you have any milk?"

The clerk nodded.

"And, uh…" said Bart. "Something that I can use to feed it to the baby with?" He was tempted—so tempted, to tell the clerk what had happened and if he knew whom the baby might belong to, or if he had a wife who would take it in, but he decided that it was safer for the baby if no one knew he—or she?—was there. Tomorrow he would talk to the sheriff, and go from there.

The clerk made a face. "I think we might…all you need is a glass bottle with a piece of rubber on top. I'll search the kitchen. Do you need napkins?"

The question made Bart blink. "Napkins?"

"For changing the baby."

Bart blinked again; he hadn't even thought of that. "Oh. Yes. I, uh…didn't come equipped," he said, with a laugh.

The clerk nodded and didn't act suspicious, to Bart's relief.

Bart took the key that he was handed and made his way up the stairs, opening the door to number ten and going inside. He placed the bassinet on one of the beds, before heading to the other one and lying down with a sigh, closing his eyes tiredly.

The baby continued to cry, but Bart knew that there was nothing he could do until the milk came. He suddenly remembered about the napkins, and wondered if the baby needed to be changed, too. He was not looking forward to that.

Eventually, there was a knock at the door, and Bart stiffly got up and opened it, taking the tray that was handed to him. He placed it on the nightstand before taking off the cover and finding a bowl of steaming beef stew, as well as a glass bottle filled with milk and a pile of cloth napkins. He took one of the napkins and went over to the bassinet, before gently lifting the baby out and laying it on the bed. He unwrapped the blanket covering it and stared at its nappy, finding that it was fastened with pins. He carefully removed them and unwrapped the nappy, finding that it was wet indeed, and the baby was a girl. He quickly wrapped the new nappy around her and nervously fastened it with the pins, hoping that he did it right and they wouldn't prick the baby. Once that was done, he carefully picked her up, went over to the other bed, and sat down with his back against the headboard. "I hope you like cow's milk," he said, reaching for the bottle and pointing the rubber tip at her mouth.

The baby immediately began to suck on it, her cries abruptly stopping.

Bart sighed with relief, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. This was the first time he'd ever had to take care of a baby, and he was glad to see that he was succeeding so far. He was so tired that he nearly fell asleep, but he roused himself and suddenly remembered the stew.

Shifting his left arm further around the baby so he could hold the bottle with that hand, he took the bowl of stew off the nightstand and placed it beside himself on the bed so he could eat it. It was delicious, and just what he'd needed.

The baby eventually finished the whole bottle of milk, and fell asleep in Bart's arm. He stared at her for a while, struck by the strangeness of the situation. If anyone had told him that he was going to find a baby and end up taking care of it, he would've thought them insane. He simply watched the baby for a few minutes, until he could barely keep his eyes open anymore and put her back in the bassinet.

Minutes later, he fell asleep wondering what her name was.

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A few hours later, Bart was woken by a sound that nearly startled the wits out of him.

The baby was crying.

Bart instantly jumped up, nearly falling out of the bed and having to grab the nightstand to steady himself. It took him a few seconds to understand just what he was hearing, and he quickly lit the lamp and stumbled over to the other bed. "What's the matter?" he asked the baby, not really expecting a reply.

The baby continued to cry, waving her little fists.

Rubbing his eyes for a few seconds, Bart sighed before carefully taking the baby out of the bassinet, and immediately found out what the problem was. The baby was wet again…and so were the folded blankets in the bassinet. He laid her on the bed and managed to change her nappy despite being half-asleep, but realized that he couldn't put her back on top of the wet blankets. Looking around the room, he spotted towels next to the bowl and pitcher on the dresser, and fetched them, putting the wet blankets on the bed and placing the clean towels in the bassinet.

"There," he said to the baby. "That should work." He picked her up and put her back inside, where she lay still crying, though not as much.

"What is it now?" he asked, confused. He doubted that she was hungry already…he'd been amazed when she'd finished every drop in the bottle. Not knowing what else to do, he sat on the bed and started to rock the bassinet, understanding at least why it was rounded on bottom rather than square.

It took a few minutes, but the baby quieted down and fell asleep.

Relieved, Bart went back to bed himself…but a few hours later, the same thing happened again, and this time, the baby would not stop crying.

Bart was sitting up on his bed holding her, lightly bouncing her around. "I don't know what you need," he whined. "Go back to sleep…please."

The baby would not have it.

When dawn rose, Bart felt desperate. He'd already been tired enough when he'd arrived in town, and then only gotten a few hours of sleep. He was still holding the baby, who had only just quieted down and lay sleeping in his arm. Carefully, he stood and went over to the bassinet and started to lie her back in it…but she abruptly woke and started to cry again.

"Oh no," he groaned, sitting on the bed and covering his eyes with one hand. There was a sudden knock on the door, and he said, "Come in," without even thinking.

It was the desk clerk. "I could hear it downstairs," he said, walking in. In his hand was a bottle of milk. He walked over to Bart and handed it to him.

Bart took the bottle and pointed the rubber tip at the baby's mouth. Instantly, the crying stopped and she began to drink it.

The clerk smiled.

Bart sighed with relief and closed his eyes, slumping against the headboard. "Thank you," he said, gratefully.

The clerk nodded. "Is it a girl or a boy?"

"A girl."

"Aha," said the clerk. "What's her name?"

Bart's eyes popped open at that, and he hesitated.

The clerk gave him a sympathetic look, assuming that Bart had a wife who'd died in childbirth and he hadn't named his infant daughter yet. He reached over and patted Bart's shoulder. "Don't worry, there's plenty of time for that. Just be glad that you have her, it'll help ease your loss."

His tired brain confused, Bart just looked at him, as if not understanding what on earth he was talking about.

"Do you want me to send you up some breakfast?" the clerk asked. "Or are you going to go back to sleep?"

Bart didn't have enough energy to eat at the moment. "I'll get more sleep first." He looked at the baby. "I hope."

The clerk nodded and turned to go. "Let me know if you need anything else."

"Thanks," Bart said, watching the baby, who was happily drinking away without a care in the world.

Once the bottle was empty—which again amazed Bart—he went back to his bed and laid down. It was a few minutes before he fell back to sleep though, as he wondered what on earth he was going to do.

TBC