Suited for Luck

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Suited for Luck Page 4

by Daniel Schinhofen


  “Bet called,” Dillon said and collected the money. “Julius, you’ve been called.”

  Julius smirked as he flopped his cards over. “Two pair; aces and nines.”

  “Pocket nines,” Doc said solemnly with a sigh. “Thought you might have something hiding.”

  “Tough luck there.”

  “I don’t know. I think my luck is for the better now,” Doc said, flipping over just one of his two cards. The two of diamonds landed next to the other two he had. “Trips tops doubles.”

  Julius’ smile vanished and a couple at the table chuckled. Dillon spoke up, “Winner, with the three of a kind…”

  “Doc. Doc Holyday.”

  Pushing the money to Doc, Dillon nodded. “Winner is Doc.”

  “Beginner’s luck,” Julius growled.

  “Possibly,” Doc agreed. He collected his winnings and tossed Dillon a penny, then turned his attention to the waitress. She had been watching the showdown, so she was still standing there. “And for you, too.”

  “Thank you, sir,” she smiled, her long ears twitching slightly.

  “Julius, you’re the ante this time.”

  Doc sat back as Dillon started to shuffle, happy to know his luck had indeed changed. Closing his eyes for a moment, he sent up a silent prayer. Thank you, Lilly. I’m sorry for my moment of doubt.

  “Good luck, gentlemen,” Dillon said as he started the next hand.

  Chapter Five

  Over the next hour, the sun started to set and the Lily got busy. Doc’s stack of coins had grown much larger as the table filled up with the maximum of eight players. The only player at the table who lost most of their money was Julius, who seemed intent on going head to head against Doc as often as possible.

  When another dealer sat at the second table, Doc glanced over at it. “Different game to be played, or just more of this?”

  “That’s the draw table,” Edward said. “They play for higher stakes since they can only get six people at the table.”

  “Well then, it’s time I was moving on,” Doc said. “It’s been a pleasure, gentlemen. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again.”

  “Leaving?” Julius sneered. “Afraid your luck has run out?”

  Laughing, Doc got to his feet slowly. “Not at all. If anything, I’d say my luck is getting better, hence why I want higher stakes.”

  Edward laughed, “Don’t blame you. If I had your run tonight, I’d consider it, too.”

  “Hope you have a good night,” Doc replied. “Dillon, is there a way to change this up for nickels or dimes?”

  “Sure,” Dillon said as he put the cards down for a moment. “Cassia, change up,” he called out loudly enough to cut over the growing noise in the saloon.

  “Coming,” Cassia, the rabbit girl, responded as she dropped off a pair of drinks to another table.

  “I’ll get you next time,” Julius snorted.

  “It’s past time for me to get home,” Edward said, collecting the money in front of him. “You going to be at the tables often, Doc?”

  “Probably. Depends on a few things.”

  “I’ll look forward to it. Maybe next time, I can win a few more.”

  “Who needs change?” Cassia said, coming up behind Dillon.

  “I do,” Doc smiled at her.

  “Alright, sir. If you’ll let me count your money up?”

  Doc stepped out of her way. “I’ll be at the other table. Bring it over, please.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Moving over to the newly opened table, he touched one of the three open seats. “Gentlemen, do you mind if I join your game?”

  The three men currently seated gave him hard stares. All of them were wearing good suits, better in quality than Doc’s clothing. The oldest of the three stroked his well-groomed gray beard for a moment before he asked, “You think you can handle the stakes?”

  “Well, my run of luck has been good so far and, at worst, I give you everything I have on me,” Doc replied.

  “If you’re in a giving mood, by all means,” one of the other two laughed.

  “The table minimum is a nickel, sir,” the dealer said.

  Doc gave him a smile. “Good. I have my winnings from the other game coming.”

  The third man scoffed, “If you’re betting on those meager stakes to help you do anything here, you’re going to be sorely mistaken.”

  “If need be, I have other money that can be used,” Doc said as he took the seat.

  “Your change, sir,” Cassia said, placing a few small stacks of coins in front of him.

  “The game is five-card draw; jacks or better to start,” the dealer said. “Since you’re the new man to the table, ante up, please.”

  “Thank you, Cassia,” Doc said. He gave her one of the nickels before tossing another to the dealer. “Ante.”

  Doc scrubbed the first ten hands, watching the other three players as they battled it out. While he studied them, he picked up on small tells from each of the men.

  “You’re the ante, Doc,” Joey, the dealer, said as he shuffled the cards.

  “Maybe this time, the cards will be better,” Doc said and tossed in his nickel.

  “You haven’t played a single hand yet,” the oldest man, Raymond, complained. “If you keep this up, you’re going to lose everything with nothing to show for it.”

  “No. I’m sure this will be the hand to get me back on track,” Doc replied.

  The cards were dealt and Doc kept the smile off his face. His hand consisted of all four tens and a three. Since he was the first one to the dealer’s left, he was the first one to bet. “Let’s make it fifty cents.” Grabbing one of his stacks of nickels, he pushed it forward.

  “Finally,” Raymond said.

  Everyone else at the table called his bet. Joey brought the money to the middle of the table and burned a card. “Doc?”

  “One,” Doc replied, discarding his three. Picking up a new card, he found an ace looking back at him.

  The others at the table took three each except for Raymond, who took two. Raymond chuckled as he stared at Doc. “I don’t think you’re topping me, son.”

  “We’ll find out,” Doc shrugged. “A dollar.”

  The man between Doc and Raymond mucked his hand. “No chance.”

  Raymond grinned at Doc, “Really believe in that two pair, do you?”

  Doc just stared back at him, not answering him.

  “Raymond, it’s a dollar to you,” Joey prompted the older man.

  “Two,” Raymond replied, putting two silver dollars into the pot.

  The last man at the table shook his head, “Not with this hand.”

  “Another dollar back to you, Doc.”

  “Three dollars,” Doc said, adding two more to the pot.

  “Four,” Raymond said immediately.

  “Call.”

  “Tough luck,” Raymond laughed as he flipped over three of his cards, showing three kings.

  “Indeed,” Doc replied as he turned over his four of a kind.

  Raymond inhaled sharply, “I didn’t expect you to have quads. To get that on the deal is absurd.

  “Luck likes me at times,” Doc smiled.

  The table went silent and Raymond looked like he bit a lemon. “Bet that luck doesn’t hold,” he said, tossing his losing hand to Joey.

  “Winner is Doc,” Joey said, pushing the winnings to him.

  “We’ll have to see,” Doc said amiably as he collected the winnings.

  “Indeed we will,” Raymond said. “The night is still young, though.”

  “Drinks?” Cassia asked, coming over to the table.

  “Beer and whiskey,” Doc told her, flipping a nickel to Joey before holding one out to her. “For you.”

  “I do like the generous ones,” Cassia giggled, taking the money. “Bring it right back, bigshot.”

  ~*~*~

  The game went on. Doc sat out on some hands and lost others, but he won a number of big pots, his stack of money growing s
teadily. The men at the table with him seemed amiable even when they lost. Even Raymond had mellowed out.

  “Doc, what brought you to Deep Gorge?” Raymond asked between hands.

  “Luck. Can’t complain about it, considering.”

  “With the luck you’ve been having, I’d think not,” one of the others laughed.

  “You’re obviously not a rancher or a miner,” Raymond pressed lightly. “You just going to trust in luck to keep you afloat?”

  “I could,” Doc replied. “I was thinking about opening up a small business, though.”

  “Oh? What kind?”

  “Healing. I hear there’s only a single licensed doctor in town.”

  “Getting the mayor to give you a license might be tough,” Raymond said, sucking on his teeth. “Doctor Whittaker is a close friend of his.”

  “I’ll have to see him and find out what he wants,” Doc shrugged.

  “Doc is your profession, not your name?” one of the others asked.

  “Both. You could say that I was given this life for a reason.”

  “Your mother must have had a touch of the sight,” Raymond murmured.

  “No idea. She died in childbirth,” Doc replied as he mucked his latest hand. “I should get going. If I’m going to see the mayor about a license, I need to be in my best shape.”

  “Hope you have the right amount of incentive,” the third man at the table said.

  “I’m sure we can come to an arrangement,” Doc said. “If not, I’ll just have to rely on Luck to see me through.”

  “Best of luck to you,” Raymond chuckled. “You’re going to need it.”

  Gathering his money up, Doc headed to the bar. “Westin, right?”

  “What’cha need?”

  “Can you exchange some of this for me?”

  “We can do that, but it’s a ten percent fee.”

  Doc frowned, “It was free earlier.”

  “When you’re moving tables, it is,” Westin shrugged. “House rules.”

  Doc looked at his pile of money and did a quick count. Stacking the nickels and dimes up, he had eleven dollars in small change. Adding that to the quarters and silver dollars he had, he looked at Westin. “Twenty?”

  Westin nodded and scooped the coins up. “One moment.” He stepped into the back room and came back a minute later with a single gold coin. “Here you go.”

  “Thank you,” Doc smiled.

  As he made his way toward the stairs, Doc caught sight of Fiala delivering a drink to a man with two guns strapped to his hips. She had a professional smile in place as she laughed at something he had said. That’s her life, Doc reminded himself as he climbed the stairs. She and Cassia are damned attractive, though... not as stunning as Lia, but still damned good-looking. I wonder how she manages to get just beautiful women?

  Doc shook his head, needing to focus on other things. First, I need to get the license to heal, then set up shop and find out why Luck wanted me in this town. I have a feeling the Lily is the reason, though... too big a coincidence with the name of this place and you, Lady.

  Chapter Six

  Yawning as he woke up, Doc climbed out of bed, idly scratching his wrists. He frowned when the itch persisted and examined his wrists, finding them covered in small red bumps. “Fucking bed bugs? Really?” Focusing on his own body, he felt the magic course through him and the itchiness stop. “Well, there are some things that I’m going to have to deal with.”

  A soft knock on his door startled him. “A moment,” he said, grabbing the blanket and wrapping it around him. When he opened it, the little rabbit-eared girl was standing there. “Can I help you?”

  “You didn’t ask for your wash water before bed, sir, but Madam said you paid for it.”

  Doc realized she was holding a lightly steaming pitcher. “Thank you,” he said to her, accepting it.

  “Good morning,” she said before hurrying away.

  “Morning,” Doc murmured and shut the door.

  A basin stood on the ledge by the window. Pouring the water into the basin, he used the small bit of soap and cloth to give himself a sponge bath. Once he was finished, he got dressed and headed downstairs.

  Dillon stood behind the bar, looking exhausted but smiling as he sipped some coffee. “Breakfast, Doc?”

  “Yes. Got a promotion, did you?”

  “Temporary, but if I can do the job, Madam Lia said I can take the morning shift.”

  “Seems my luck isn’t the only one on the rise,” Doc chuckled.

  “I still feel kind of bad for Skippy,” Dillon said.

  “Fiala didn’t seem to like him,” Doc said.

  Dillon looked away. “Not my place to say.”

  “Sorry, I shouldn’t pry.”

  “Let me go tell the cook about your breakfast.” Dillon left the bar, going for the door near the stage.

  “Sure. I’ll take a seat.”

  Doc sat near the door and put his hat on the chair next to him, wondering if the stage was ever in use. Maybe it got used after I went to bed... I did turn in early, after all.

  Dillon came back quickly. “Be a couple minutes.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “Did you want a drink?”

  “Coffee?” Doc asked, having smelled the distinctive aroma.

  Dillon poured a cup and brought it to him. “If the Madam asks…”

  “Service has been exceptional,” Doc smiled.

  “Thank you.”

  Doc was working on his second cup of coffee when the little girl came out of the door near the stairs, holding a plate. Seeing him, she came over with slow measured steps instead of her usual bounce.

  “Your breakfast, sir,” she said and set the plate in front of him.

  “Why thank you,” Doc smiled, pulling out a nickel. “You need to share this with the cook, okay?”

  The little girl looked at the nickel, then back at him. “Yes, sir.”

  “What’s your name?” Doc asked as he held the coin out to her.

  “Posy,” she answered, taking the money. She hurried away, her normal bouncing walk back.

  “Cute kid,” Doc chuckled.

  Breakfast turned out to be a thick chunk of cooked ham, two fried eggs, and cubed potatoes with a small stack of buttered pancakes. “Hearty, indeed,” Doc mumbled as he dug in.

  ~*~*~

  Finished with breakfast, Doc leaned back and exhaled deeply. “Damned filling.”

  Dillon blinked at him with red bleary eyes, “Huh?”

  “When does your relief get here?”

  “Westin will be back at ten.”

  Doc looked outside. “Three hours, give or take a bit.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Hang in there.”

  “I am.”

  Getting to his feet, Doc put his hat back on before heading for the street. “See you later.”

  Doc paused just outside the door and, realizing he didn’t know where he was going, turned to walk back inside. “Dillon?”

  “Back already?” Dillon snickered.

  “Which way to the mayor’s office?”

  “He doesn’t see anyone ‘til nine, and the bank doesn’t open ‘til then, either.”

  “Well, fuck,” Doc sighed. “I went to bed early for nothing.”

  “You missed the girls dancing, too,” Dillon added. “Pity. It’s one of the reasons the Lily does as well as it does.”

  “I’m sure,” Doc said, leaning on the bar and taking his hat off again. “I noticed that the girls working last night were all… above average.” The last two words were not as confident because he wasn’t sure if that was true or not.

  “Lia has an eye for them,” Dillon chuckled lightly. “She picks who gets to work here.”

  Before Doc could respond, someone came into the saloon and there was the distinctive click-click of both hammers of a double-barrel shotgun being cocked. “You! I’m going to kill you!”

  Doc held both hands up at ninety-degree angles away from his bod
y.

 

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