Death Has Its Price
Chapter 25 – Love's a Game of Chance
Bart leaned up against the paddock fence and watched Noble run with the other horses, free and happy. The way he was until an hour ago.
Bret watched his brother from the porch, where he sat drinking sweet tea. Something was wrong; it was way past obvious. When he'd seen Bart earlier, his brother was cheerful and optimistic, looking forward to the 'new' life he'd been given. Now he was miserable; Bret had seen it in his eyes.
He sat and waited for Bart, knowing enough to let his brother come to him to talk. He would when he was ready. They were leaving in the morning, heading back to Apache Junction, and Bret could only hope that sometime soon Bart would remember his life, and his past, and his brother.
They'd been beyond close. Bret was only two years older, but he'd all but raised Bart after their mother died, and the thought that his brother might be lost to him forever had pushed him forward for almost a year. What would he have done if Bart had actually been dead? He didn't want to consider that life and thank God he no longer had to. But the man that he'd found in Tucson wasn't the man he'd said goodbye to in Corpus Christi, and he mourned the loss of the brother he knew. Oh, Bart was still Bart, but a different Bart. Quieter, more introspective, the young jokester had been replaced by a more serious man, with a different view of the world and everything in it.
At least that man had been happy, joyous even. The one standing at the paddock fence was sad and sorrowful, and Bret could only worry about what was wrong. Had he asked Amy to go with him and been turned down? Worse yet, to marry him? Or had he decided it was too much, given what he didn't know about his life, and broken off the relationship? Or something else he couldn't even begin to imagine?
He could see Bart sigh and turn towards the house, finally catching sight of Bret on the porch. He smiled weakly and headed Bret's way. If Bart was looking to talk Bret would do his best to be non-judgmental.
"Nothin' to do right now?"
Bret shook his head. "Nope, not a darn thing. I spent a year lookin' for somethin' that I finally found, and I'm just sittin' here takin' a break. How about you?"
"Nothin' till we leave in the mornin'." For the first time in a long time, Bret could hear just a little bit of Texas twang in Bart's speech.
He hesitated to ask the question, but the answer would determine which way they headed. "Amy goin' with us?"
Bart's answer was curt. "No."
Okay. "Is she comin' later?"
The next answer was just as terse. "No."
"Somethin' you want to talk about?"
"No. Yes. No. I don't know."
"Okay. When you decide, you let me know." Bret went back to drinking tea and rocking. They passed time in silence for a few minutes while Bart wrestled with his demons privately.
"Bret?"
"Yep?"
"Were we close?"
"Yep."
"Really close?"
"Yep."
"I'm glad."
"Me too." More silence. Finally Bret spoke again. "Was there a point to that?"
Bart sat down on the porch steps. "I'm glad we're leavin' in the morning."
"What happened, Bart?"
"Everything. Nothing. I love her, Bret. And she loves me. But not enough, I guess."
"What makes you say that?" Another long, quiet stretch.
"I asked her to marry me. She said no. I asked her to come with me. She still said no."
"There's more, isn't there?"
"She asked me to stay here. I said no. No, no, no. If this is what it's like to be Bart Maverick I want to go back to bein' John Holliday."
Bret reached down and laid his hand on Bart's shoulder. Bart didn't pull away. "Things'll get better."
"Yeah? You sure?"
"Yep. You sure you didn't wanna stay here with Amy? Her father seems to like you. You could have it all here."
"I've been here almost a year, Bret. I was okay with that until I started listenin' to you and Doc talk about all the places we've been, and I knew I couldn't stay here any longer. I wanna go to all those places. All the places we've been, and all the places we haven't been. San Francisco, and New Orleans, and Denver, and St. Louis, and everywhere in-between. I haven't just lost the last year while I tried to get well, I've lost everything that came before that. Every time my mind reaches for a memory – it's not there. You don't know what that's like."
"You're right, I don't know what it's like. Just be sure you're doin' what you want – and not what somebody else wants."
Bart shook his head and laughed, a hollow and desperate sound. "Believe me, that's what I'm tryin' to do." He laughed again. "If it doesn't kill me first."
"Son, if that rockslide didn't kill you, nothin' will."
"Thanks, Pappy."
Bret looked at his brother long and hard. "What did you just call me?"
"Uh – I don't know. What?"
"Pappy?"
Bart thought about it for a minute. "Yeah, I guess I did. Why?"
"Cause that's what you've always called me when you thought I was actin' more like your father than your brother. You remember anything else?"
The younger man sat and thought before finally answering. "No, that seems to be all there is."
There was the small sound of hope in Bret's voice. "It's a good first step."
"Let's hope it's not the only step."
"It won't be."
"You've got an awful lotta faith in me."
Bret thought about all the things he'd seen his brother come back from — Caroline's death, the trial and near hanging in Montana, the game of 'catch the killer' on the Bayou Belle, the fire at the Double C Ranch, the breakdown in Silver Creek, the almost fatal poker game in Cheyenne — and knew it was only a matter of time. How could he convince Bart of that? "I've got reason to believe in you."
"Yeah? I hope I remember why someday."
"You will. How about a little game of poker? I'll remind you how the Maverick's play cards with each other."