Chapter 15 – Good Advice

Red did an excellent job of distraction – Ginny got out of Lil's through the back door in the liquor storage room with no problem. In just a few minutes she had a horse and she was on her way, following the directions Mae had given her. It took less than twenty minutes to find the spot where the cabin should be – the only problem was, Ginny couldn't find anything that resembled what she was looking for. She finally dismounted and went searching on foot. Behind the thickest stand of beech and oak saplings she had ever seen, the Pinkerton agent eventually located the cabin. Frank had done an excellent job of hiding his home.

There was no sign of anyone, so she took her time and looked around. The cabin wasn't very large, but it seemed well-constructed. This had to be 'the usual place' where Frank and Beatrice met; Bea had nothing but a room at Diamond Lil's. There was a window in front and a medium-sized window next to the back door; Ginny broke a hole in the window in back. The door was locked from the inside. Once she'd determined the best place to leave her horse tonight when she arrived, she broke off a branch from one of the saplings and erased her footprints. It would be almost impossible to see anything at midnight, but she wasn't going to take any chances.

She rode back to town and made arrangements for the horse she'd been using to be saddled and ready to go at eleven o'clock. Then she hurried back to Lil's and unlocked the storage room door, slipping inside without being seen. She grabbed a bottle of brandy and walked onto the floor of the saloon, taking the bottle straight to Frank.

"Mae wants some brandy, but I'm not about to take the bottle up there to her. God only knows what she'd do with it. Can you pour me a glass and then hold the bottle aside?"

"So that's where you disappeared to," Frank remarked.

"Yep, that's me, jail guard. Soon as I take this to her I'm goin' back to my room, in case you need me for anything."

"Sammi . . . how about dinner tonight?"

Ginny was trapped between her desire to make sure Frank was too busy to meet with Beatrice before midnight and the thought of having to endure another meal with him. The detective won the debate. "I'd love to, Frank. Same time?"

The bartender grinned, pleased that he seemed to be getting closer to Sammi Jo. "Five o'clock is good for me if it's okay with you. How does steak sound?"

"It sounds delicious, " Ginny had to admit. "You have a place in mind?"

"I do. The Cattlemen's Club."

Ginny grimaced. "Ain't that awful fancy for you and me?"

"Nothing's too fancy for you, Sammi. I've been there before, and the food is outstanding. Wear that long black dress you've got – you'll be the best lookin' woman there."

Ginny sighed. She was going to have to endure the kind of evening she only spent with Bret – with a man that wasn't Bret. She picked up the glass of brandy and forced a smile. "Five o'clock. I'll be ready."

XXXXXXXX

They'd made camp and cooked their dinner, then finally gone to bed. Bart fell asleep, but Bret was still 'wrestling with his demons' and sleep was the furthest thing from his mind. They'd be in Kansas City in two days at the most, and he didn't know what he was going to say to Ginny. He must have made more noise than he thought because a sleepy voice asked, "You gonna do that all night?"

"Do what all night?"

"Mumble to yourself."

"Sorry, I didn't know I was."

"That don't answer my question." He didn't have to look at his brother to know that Bart had turned over and was now facing Bret. "What's botherin' you?" There was no immediate answer, and Bart asked, "Beauty?"

"Yeah," Bret answered, surprisingly. "She deserves somebody better than me."

"Two things," Bart replied, yawning. "Ain't nobody better than you. And it's you she loves, not somebody else."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I spent almost two solid weeks with her in Memphis. Day and night, while we waited to see if you was gonna stop hoverin' and come back to us."

"Hovering?"

"That's what Doc Wheeler called it. Hoverin'. Not bein' able to choose between life and death. Glad you decided eventually to stay."

"And Ginny?"

"Wouldn't leave your side. Didn't eat, didn't sleep; she even sang to you. Anything to stay in touch and let you know she was there. Slept on the floor, too, most of the time."

A small chuckle was heard. "I can't imagine Ginny Malone sleepin' on the floor."

Bart wearily closed his eyes. He really wanted to sleep, but it was apparent that his brother needed to talk this out. "You can't imagine a lot of things that woman did to take care of you. You could look for a hundred years and never find one that would love you that much."

The older brother snorted. "You sound like you're half in love with her yourself."

The answer was swift. "I am, but not the way you mean. She ain't got room in her life for anyone but you, whether you can see it or not."

"Then why'd she defy me and take this job?"

"Defy you? DEFY YOU? You ain't Arthur Stansbury – and he's the only one's got any right to give her orders. I'd have done the same thing, if you'd ordered me the way you tried to order her."

"I didn't . . . hell, I didn't mean it like that. I didn't order her, I tried to persuade her."

"The way you try to persuade me?"

"Well . . . you may have a point."

Bart sat up, now fully awake. "How many times you been in love in your life? Two, three?"

"Maybe."

"Ain't you learned nothin'? You don't persuade a woman about anything. Especially a woman like that. You'da been better off keepin' your mouth shut and comin' back to Texas. At the very least you wouldn't a been sittin' in a jail cell in Hobbs waitin' to hang."

Bret could tell from the pronounced twang in Bart's voice that he was irritated beyond measure. This was getting them nowhere. "Alright. I know you're right. I just . . . worry about her, that's all."

"The way she worries about you."

"Yeah."

"That don't stop you from doin' what you damn sure please, does it?"

Bart had a point. This was no ordinary woman. This was an accomplished Pinkerton agent; he'd seen her shot, stabbed, beaten up and generally abused, and she was still the most alluring creature he'd ever laid eyes on. With a spirit no one seemed able to break. Maybe he expected too much out of her . . . out of them. Maybe it was time he learned to accept her at face value and just . . . love her.

"No, I guess it doesn't. But what am I . . . ?"

"Supposed to do? Nothin', Bret. Don't do nothin'. Just love her, and thank God every day that she loves you back."

Almost five minutes passed while Bret mulled over everything Bart told him. Finally, he spoke. "I hate to admit this – but I think you're right."

Bart breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe there was hope for some sleep after all. And maybe Bret's demons would settle down and behave themselves. "Of course I'm right. I had an excellent teacher, Pappy."

Bret smiled. Sometimes even little brothers gave good advice.