Chapter 19 – Explanations are in Order

"You're hurt." Those were the first words out of Bret's mouth, as soon as he saw the bandaged left shoulder.

"Got shot this morning when we wrapped up the case." Ginny stood aside and opened the door wider so that Bret could enter the room. Which he did, awkwardly. "When did you get here?"

"About an hour ago. Bart and me went straight to the marshal's office to see if he knew anything and I got quite a story from him."

"I'm surprised you didn't go right to Diamond Lil's." Ginny sat down gingerly on the bed; Bret took the chair next to it. "Where's your brother?"

"Downstairs gettin' us a room. He thought it would be best if I came up here alone."

"In case I threw you out?"

There was momentarily pain in Bret's eyes, but he answered truthfully. "In case."

Ginny's reply was as tender as she could make it sound. "I wouldn't do that to you."

The gambler cleared his throat. "Ginny, I . . . I want to tell you how wrong I was. I've got no right to ask you not to take assignments, or to try and persuade you what you should and shouldn't do. I . . . well, I just don't have any right."

The Pinkerton detective did a little throat clearing of her own. Then she leaned forward and took his hand in hers. "That's where you're wrong, Bret. You do have the right to ask me not to do things. But I have the right to turn you down. That's what we did; it's just that we went about it in the wrong way. You didn't see my side of things, and I didn't see yours. Both of them were valid."

"What does that mean for you and me?"

She let go of his hand and stood up, walking to the far side of the room and leaning against the window sill. "If you'd asked me that six weeks ago I couldn't have told you. But I've learned a lot since I've been here – part of which is how important you are to me. And I've had to learn some things the hard way." A sigh escaped her, and Bret could sense this wasn't easy for her to explain – or admit. "I killed a man this morning, a man that had fallen in love with Sammi Jo. An evil man inside, but a man that could be sweet and tender. A man that made me think of you every time I looked at him. A man that made me realize how much I loved you."

"Ginny – "

"No, let me finish. Shooting him was the right thing to do – he was trying to kill me. But before he died I saw the betrayal in his eyes, the hurt and the pain, and I never wanna see those things in your eyes. We're not always gonna agree – and we're not always gonna be together. I'll take assignments in places you can't go, and you'll want to do things in places I have no desire to see. We're not ready to spend our whole lives together yet. But we have to understand that just because we're not together doesn't mean we don't love each other, and that we each deserve courtesy and respect, no matter how much we disagree."

Bret crossed the room quickly and wrapped his arms around her. "I know. I had a lotta time to do nothin' but think. And I had a little brother chatterin' in my ear, makin' a whole lotta sense. He pointed out to me that I'd been a horse's ass. And he was right."

The woman in his arms turned to face him with a smile on her face. "But you're my horse's ass," she whispered, and reached up to kiss him.

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He held her carefully, with the right side of her body pressed next to his so as to not hurt the injured shoulder. He'd been tender and gentle, with a passion that amazed even her. She raised her head slightly and looked straight into those black, black eyes, and saw everything there that she hadn't seen in Frank's.

"You good?" he asked as his lips caressed her forehead.

"Better than good." It didn't matter how much the shoulder ached, she hadn't felt this content in weeks. "I missed you so much. And the way we parted . . . just made everything worse."

"I can't tell you how sorry I am."

"I know," she offered. "I am too. But there's one thing you were right about."

"What's that?"

"How many times I had to say no."

She heard a small chuckle from him before he leaned his head down and kissed her, several times in succession. "Tell me about this Frank character."

"Not much to tell. He was a partner in the kidnapping operation and the head bartender at Lil's. And he wanted to marry Sammi Jo."

"Really? Marry her?"

"Yes, and raise horses and babies with her."

"What did Sammi tell him?" Bret was curious, to say the least.

"Sammi Jo allowed him to think that they could be together somewhere down the road. She had to, to make sure he didn't do something before he was supposed to."

"Did she kiss him? And if you don't wanna tell me you don't have to. I swear I'll understand."

"She kissed him once on the cheek; he kissed her twice on the lips. And after the second kiss she ran to her room and vomited up her dinner. And swore that she'd shoot him before she'd let him kiss her again." Ginny paused while she stared into those black eyes, but the expression in them never changed. There was none of the jealousy or rage she'd seen in Frank's. The only thing there was curiosity.

"Was it hard? Playin' saloon girl, I mean."

"Excruciating sometimes. Other times it was easy and fun; I've never laughed as hard as I did with some of the girls. It was tiring, too – most nights I fell into bed exhausted. It was an exhilarating experience, and I never wanna do it again."

"Anything good come out of it?" he whispered into her hair as he held her close.

"You mean besides catching the kidnappers? Yeah, I think I made a couple friends for life." She was thinking, of course, of Mae Templeton and Red Mitchell, an unlikely pair. Yet there was something about those two . . . Ginny had the feeling they'd come to depend heavily on each other. Maybe more, given enough time. Time to change the subject. She was tired of talking. "What about you? What were you doin' for so long in New Mexico?"

She felt him tense, and wondered just what it was he had to tell her. "I was . . . sittin' in a jail cell."

She had to know, because of the way he'd reacted to the question. "What for?" She was prepared for almost anything . . . except his answer.

"Murder."

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Bart had gotten them a room at the Kansas Star Hotel after Tom Springer explained that's where Ginny was now staying. Rather he'd gotten himself a room at the hotel, because he highly doubted that Bret would spend any time anywhere but in Ginny Malone's room. If he was as smart as Bart thought he was.

He arranged for a bath, then took their belongings to room three twenty-four. He hung up his clothes, followed by his brother's – there was no sense leaving them in Bret's bag, they might never see the light of day as long as the Mavericks were in Kansas City.

He felt much better after the bath, and soon found himself snuggled under the covers in bed. He dreamt, but it was a pleasant dream, one of the beautiful blonde woman that he loved, and when he woke he dressed and went straight to the telegraph office. 'Doralice – Arrived in Kansas City. Coming home as quickly as I can manage it. Can't wait to . . . see you. Bart.'

He stopped at a place called the Cattlemen's Club and had supper, then wandered on down to Diamond Lil's. He'd heard stories about the size of the place, but the stories didn't do the saloon justice. So this was where Beauty had spent the last six weeks of her life. It took all of about five minutes for a tall, long-haired blonde to approach him, and he asked for the manager's office. Five minutes after that he was sharing a cup of coffee with Red Mitchell.

"So you're a friend of Ginny's," Red remarked, while giving the man in front of him the once-over. Tall, slender, more good-looking than any man had a right to be, Red was curious how close a 'friend' Maverick really was.

Bart had seen that look before, on the face of almost every man that had caught a glimpse of Ginny Malone. The man had a serious crush on Beauty. "It ain't me you have to worry about, Mr. Mitchell. Agent Malone is in love with my brother."

'Good grief,' thought Red, 'there's another one of them? What does he look like?' "Ah," he said out loud. "I see. We only knew her as Sammi Jo . . . not as Ginny, so we don't know much about the real person. She always seemed kinda sad and wistful. That explains a lot. Bein' separated from somebody real important to you, and pretendin' to be somebody else, has got to be hard."

"Well, they're together now. I just wanted to come down and see the saloon for myself. Ginny's a real important person in our lives, and she spent a lotta time here. I'm glad she had a friend like you she could depend on." Bart stood and offered his hand to Mitchell; Red took it.

"You two take real good care of her."

"We will, Mr. Mitchell, we will." Bart walked back out through the saloon, out the batwing doors and back to the hotel. The door to Ginny's room was still closed and no sounds were coming from inside, so Bart went back to room three twenty-four and settled in for the night. He smiled as he fell asleep, content in the knowledge that the gambler and the detective's reunion had gone as well as he'd hoped for.

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"Murder? Who are you supposed to have murdered?"

Ginny was calm, considering what Bret had just told her. She leaned up against him on her right elbow and watched his face. He looked relieved that she hadn't made more of an issue out of his revelation.

"A card cheat named Danny Fletcher."

"Ah-ha. And how long were you there? In jail, I mean."

"Several weeks. Bart found the real murderer and got me out."

Ginny smirked. "Good old Brother Bart. Nice of him to do that before they hanged you for it."

"I thought so."

Nothing was said for a good ten minutes while Ginny digested this latest piece of information. "That must be where you did all your thinking."

"It was. Wasn't anything else to do there."

"Nice to know I kept your head busy."

Bret looked into the laughing blue eyes that stared at him. "That wasn't the only thing you kept busy."

"So now what? You escaped a murder charge, I stopped a kidnapping ring, and Bart? What did poor Bart do?"

"Got me out of jail."

"In other words, saved your sorry hide."

"True. I was thinkin' . . . "

"Yes?" the redhead asked as she traced lines up and down his face with her fingers.

"I was thinkin' we could escort him back to Little Bend. If Arthur don't have anything pressing for you."

"Are you sure he wants to go back to Little Bend right now?"

Bret finally sat up in bed, pulling the woman gently with him. "I'm sure. There was somethin' pretty important goin' on between him and Doralice when I sent for him. I owe him my life, Ginny. The least I can do is get him back to his woman."

"Like the way he got you back to yours?"

"Yes, ma'am. just like that."

"When do we leave?"

He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her mouth, a deep, hungry kiss. "Not right now."

The End