Troubled, she swung her leg over the side of the cycle and eyed him from beneath what veil her stubby lashes provided. Taking in a deep breath, she reined in her emotions.
Cody held his arm awkwardly as his cheeks grew more ashen. A slight moan parted his lips and he slumped as if defeated by the pain.
Adrenaline pumping through her veins, she helped him off the bike. Putting her arms around his solid middle, she muttered, “Come on, Sir Lancelot. Into the doctor’s office with you.”
He tried to brush her away and stand up straight. “I can make it on my own steam.” But his bravado was short lived when he stumbled over the curb and dropped to one knee.
“Sure you can, cowboy.” Brushing aside his protests, she circled his middle and tugged at his almost dead weight with all her might. God he weighed a ton, even if he didn’t look it. It must be all solid muscle.
“Hold on tight. Lean on me.” Just one step at a time. She could do it. They could do it.
“I don’t lean on women. You always so bossy?” the big galoot mumbled under his breath as he relaxed against her and curved an arm around her shoulder.
“All the time.” She tried to swallow the grin flirting around the edges of her lips. She wasn’t bossy. She was a take-charge, independent woman who didn’t put up with tomfoolery. He was the bossy one but now was not the time to point that out.
“What do we have here?” a young man dressed in a white doctor’s uniform asked as he rounded the door to the waiting room. He barely looked old enough to attend his senior prom, and his ears looked as if they’d recently been pierced.
She swallowed the gulp rising in her throat. They needed this child’s daddy. She hoped he was just the intern. “Rattlesnake bite.”
“Let me help you.” The doctor crossed to Cody’s side in two long strides and helped him into an examination room.
She trotted after them without invitation and stood over her patient. As his nurse for the past few days, she had earned her right to be there and she had to make sure the physician didn’t undo her work.
The doc slid a glance to her, his expression carefully guarded. “When did it happen?”
“Four days ago.” Loath to leave him, she hovered at Cody’s side.
The doctor’s only response was to lift his brows. He filled a syringe with clear liquid. “Let’s give him a tetanus booster to be on the safe side.” He wiped alcohol on Cody’s healthy upper arm and plunged the needle in with an adeptness that alleviated some of her previous concern. “Why didn’t you seek medical attention?”
“We were stranded in the woods and my cell phone was dead. I couldn’t carry him to the bike and he couldn’t walk. I couldn’t very well leave him alone and we had a snake bite kit so I doctored him.”
“You suctioned out the venom?” The doctor’s coat tails flapped behind him when he rounded the metal examining table to Cody’s injured side.
She nodded, biting her lower lip. “As best as I could. I think I got it all.” She’d sucked way past the point she thought she had extracted the last drop to be safe.
The doctor stuck one hand in a rubber glove and tugged it over the tips of his fingers. Crossing back to Cody, he prodded the wound with deft fingers. Without glancing at her, he took the dressing off the wound and peered at it with his penlight.
Cody winced, clenching his teeth so hard they ground loudly. His knuckles turned white but he didn’t utter a sound.
“Does it still hurt?”
“Like the dickens, Doc.” Cody slanted a half-smile filled with pain at her. “Do you think you could let her do this? I like her fingers better.”
A slow burn crept up her cheeks. Was he flirting with her or was the doctor just that rough? She had to look away, anywhere, but at those mocking eyes.
The doctor finally glanced her way. His gaze slid over her with a far friendlier smile than that of her impish patient. “I don’t blame you. If I had a pretty wife like yours, I wouldn’t let her out of my sight either.”
Cody’s teasing glance enveloped her. His eyes danced with mirth but the scoundrel didn’t say a word to set the record straight.
She plunged her fists into her pants pockets so the men couldn’t see them clench and unclench all the while hoping she wasn’t a bright shade of fuchsia. Judging by her flushed cheeks, she was probably magenta by now.
When she managed to find some semblance of her normal voice, she asked, “What’s the verdict? Will he live?”
The young man finished re-bandaging Cody’s wound, then pulled his gloves off and tossed them in the hazardous medical waste bin. “Your husband’s a very strong man--and a very lucky one. He should’ve been admitted to a hospital immediately. His guardian angel must’ve been watching over him.”
Close enough. Her guardian angel-- Jesse.
Suppressing a mass of quivers as a breeze caressed her cheeks out of nowhere, she leaned against the wall, her arms folded across her chest. Was the chill wind really Jesse making his presence known? If so, this wasn’t the time or place so she did her best to focus on the current crisis. “Is he ready to go home?”
Young Dr. Kildare stroked his baby-faced chin thoughtfully as he stared at the ex-cop. “To be on the safe side, I’d like to do an EKG.”
Cody’s inscrutable gaze shifted from her to the doctor.
“How long will that take?” she asked, painfully aware how swiftly the hands spun around on the clock. As each second ticked away, her nerves grew shorter.
“Not too long. A half hour--hour maybe. Why don’t you get a cup of coffee and a bite to eat at the diner around the corner?” When she hesitated, he added, “I’ll have my nurse come get you when he’s ready to go.”
Cody tilted his head. “You could use some fattening up. Go on. I’ll be fine.”
So she was too skinny? A bag of bones? It took all her aplomb not to pinch her tummy or glance down at her waist. “Is that a dig at my cooking?”
Her traitorous stomach growled loudly, embarrassing her. The rattlesnake and tuna had run out a couple days ago. She’d subsisted on berries and boiled acorns. Of course she’d lost weight. Who wouldn’t?
Cody’s devil-may-care smile grew wider but he shook his pale head ever so slightly.
“Pleading the fifth? Coward.” Clucking her tongue, she pushed off the wall with her foot. To the doctor, she said matter-of-factly, “I’ll be at the diner.”
“He’ll be in good hands. Don’t worry.”
“I won’t,” she lied. Holding her head high, she left the office.
* * * *
But when Melissa faced the greasy spoon, her stomach roiled at the thought of all that grease that just reeked from the place. It practically coated her twenty feet away. But this is where the doctor was going to look for her and it was probably the only eatery in this one-horse town. Then remembering all she had was a crumpled ten-dollar bill, she muttered an expletive and dug in her pocket. One oil-drenched meal would eliminate half that. Then what?
She had a better idea, remembering her promise to multiply their assets. After entering the diner, she made a few quiet inquiries and found out where the hot card game of the night was being held. Looking at her watch, she saw it was dinnertime. Since when did doctors work so late? Not in southern California. Not the doctors of her acquaintance, anyway.
“It’s okay,” she bolstered herself. It fit in with her plans.
When the waitress led her to the front door and pointed, she spied a group of rakish men in the park across the street.
“They’re at the gazebo in the town courtyard. Mosey on over and introduce yourself.” The waitress’s gaze danced over her. “I imagine they’ll make way for you--long as you have lots of bread.”
“Thanks.” Melissa grinned and wiped her itchy palms down her pants leg, excited at the prospect of a game. They were on her turf, little did they know it. No one at the carnival had been able to best her except when she allowed it to reel them in.
When she passed a newsstand
she spied a national paper out of the corner of her eye. Pausing out of curiosity, dread gnawing at her, she flipped the paper open to the society page. She hoped she wouldn’t see her eight-by-ten glossy staring back at her for the thousand and first time and idly wondered if anyone she knew would be featured on its gossipy pages.
Upon turning the final uneventful page, she released a pent-up sigh of relief. Good. Maybe the bounty hunters will finally let me live in peace.
Several heads lifted and eyed her with anticipation when she sauntered to the gazebo. Whether it was meant for her or for the fact they thought she’d be an easy mark, she didn’t care.
Woe be unto those who underestimated her. They’d find out their folly soon enough. “I heard there was a hot poker game going on here. Can I join in?”
A tall, balding man with a glint of steel in his eye and a sunburned pate demanded, “You got any money, honey?” He puffed on a fat, smelly stogie.
Trying not to gag, she put on her poker face and dragged her ten from her breast pocket, achingly aware that all gazes were glued to her every movement. She waved her admittance fee in front of their noses. “This is all I have. Will it do?”
The tall man drew a fat cigar from his mouth, blew smoke in her face, and guffawed. “This game is for big stakes. How do you expect to pay us when you lose?” His randy gaze raked over her suggestively.
“You mean if I lose, sugar?” She smiled sweetly at him, her eyes stinging from the smoke, then dug around in her pants pocket and pulled out a glittering ruby ring. With barely a tremor of remorse, she tossed it in the center of the round table. She could probably pawn it for a higher reward but she couldn’t afford the delay or chance the authorities tracing it back to her. Chances seemed extremely slim that one of these dregs of society would turn her into the Feds.
Her ante toppled several stacks of red, white and blue poker chips in its wake, before stopping and sparkling with a hypnotic wink. “Will this do for collateral? My papa swore it’s worth a mint.”
Clamoring to see the ring, the five men stood so fast that they would have toppled their benches backwards if they hadn’t been cemented to the floor. A chubby hand clamped over her mother’s ring, dragging it to the edge of the table. An older, balding man snatched it away, eyed it, and then bit the gold band with his teeth. “She ain’t lyin’. This is good jewels.”
The leader bowed low and swept out his hand theatrically. “Would you honor us with your presence?”
“Love to.” More than they knew. Smiling coyly, she batted her eyelashes at him. Why did men make it so easy for master manipulators like her? Didn’t they know better? She choked back a grunt. Obviously not when the manipulator was couched behind a pretty face. “I’m so glad you let me play with you. I haven’t touched a deck of cards in ages.”
Avarice sparkled in five separate pairs of eyes.
The suckers were hooked. She itched to reel them in. “Would you mind refreshing me on the rules of the game? Are deuces wild?”
“Which game?” one brave soul asked. His fingers twitched.
“You mean, there’s more than one?” she asked in her most innocent voice, her eyes as wide as she could open them. She let her gaze roam over each and every man at the table, letting it linger on each one until he blushed.
Only one didn’t. He hid behind an infernal cloud of smoke that he puffed from his fat cigar. He blew it in her face and she choked back a cough, refusing to allow him to see that his disdain irked her. Instead, she reached over the table, pulled the offensive cigar from his mouth and ground it out beneath her booted heel. “There’s a lady present. Please remember that.”
“Let’s play. I’ll deal her in.” Grudging respect rang in the man’s voice even as he glared at his ruined stogie.
Melissa reached for her mother’s engagement ring, and slid it on her finger for safekeeping. She had no intention of losing the precious collateral.
“I thought that was your ante?” the smoker said as he paused in the middle of shuffling the deck. “Put it back in the middle of the table.”
She met the man’s steady glare with one of her own and waggled her finger in the air for all to see. “It’s here for safekeeping. If I lose, I’ll give it up. This way, it won’t get knocked into the grass and lost.”
“Let her be. As long as the ring’s in sight, we’re cool. So deal already, would ya, Frankie?” The impatient card player chewed a wad of tobacco and filthy brown juice dribbled down his chin, coating what was left of his rotting teeth. “My money’s growing mighty cold.”
Frankie, the former cigar smoker, scowled deeply, his bushy brows drawing together to form a single line. What little hair he had left, was caught at the nape of his neck, in an iron-gray, straggly ponytail. A terry-cloth headband with a peace sign wrapped around his forehead. One long silvery earring dangled from his left ear. His tattered denim vest was covered in patches and buttons that preached world peace.
“Keep your pants on, JoJo. Can’t you see I’m shuffling? I can’t leave the deck stacked the way you had it.” To emphasize his point, he winked at her and pushed his thumbs under the cards in a slick maneuver so they splayed in an awesome show.
Okay, she had one possibly worthy opponent to keep a hawk eye on. Still, she wasn’t overly worried. She’d learned her craft in Atlantic City when she and Jesse had worked in the casinos for awhile.
JoJo’s moon-pie shaped face reddened as he lifted his bulk from his bench. Leaning over the table, palms spread flat on it, he gave the evil eye to Frankie. “You suggesting I’m cheating?”
“Hit a nerve, did I, slick?” Frankie snorted. “Sit down and let me finish dealing.” He slid five cards to each player.
She spread her cards in her hand, and evaluated them. “How do we play this game?” She batted her eyelashes at each man in turn and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “What’s wild again? My memory’s not as good as it used to be.”
The man next to her, the youngest in the group whom she’d heard called Sally, scooted closer to her and threw an arm around her shoulder. Dripping in imitation gold chains and gaudy rings on every finger, he seemed to fancy himself a lady’s man. “Well, darling, we play five card draw the man’s way. There are no wild cards.” His hot raunchy breath fanned her cheek and skimmed down the column of her throat.
His touch felt slippery and slimy, and she had to quell a set of shivers lest she offend him. “Soooooooooooooo....” she peeked at her cards with an exaggerated gesture, “we just play these cards? I have a pair of....”
He shushed her. “No, hon. Don’t tell us yet. You get to discard up to four cards and ask for replacements.” He sidled closer so that his thigh burned against hers. “You want three cards. Frankie, hit her with three.”
She shook her head as she wanted to hold onto her queen. “I only want two.” She plucked the low cards from her hand and laid them face down on the table. Before she picked her new cards up, she asked, “Are we playing partners?” When he said, “No,” she smiled sweetly up at him and lifted his hand by his forefinger and dropped it back to his side. Inching a good foot away on the bench, she said, “Thanks for the poker lesson.”
Sally’s jaw slacked wide as his cohorts guffawed and slapped their thighs.
Frankie howled with laughter until he dabbed at moisture forming in his eyes. “She told you, Junior.”
“Lover boy bites the dust again!” a fourth, hereto, silent man announced. A big belly jostled, no doubt acquired from all the beer guzzling and chip munching he’d been doing. Large jowls matched his stomach and hung down to form a double chin that wobbled when he moved. His hair was thick and wavy, dark brown with only the occasional strand of gray; so that she judged him to be about forty.
“Stuff it, Louise,” Sally growled under his breath, and swiped at him with the flat of his hand.
The heavyset man jerked backward and then shook a chubby finger at him. “I’m Louis, got it? I ain’t got no girlie name like Sally.”
&n
bsp; Before this game turned into a rumble, she licked her lips and intervened. “Gentlemen, I didn’t mean to start a squabble amongst you. I’m sure no one would ever mistake any of you for a woman. Certainly not me.” She forced an appreciative glint to her eyes as she forced her gaze to travel around the table. Contrary to her words, she judged them all against Cody and found them sorely lacking in masculine charms. “How about we make up and play?” She was eager to win so she could eat. She’d only had one decent meal in the past week and her stomach growled at her to skip the foreplay.
Fortunately, the men were drooling to fleece her of her ruby ring. Little did they know that she’d managed to keep it through countless other poker games.
She won the first round with a full house that they put down to beginner’s luck Then she folded a couple of rounds and then won again which they put down to lady luck.
After they passed the beer around, she pretended to take a few sips but kept her tongue firmly pressed to the bottle’s mouth to prevent the flow of liquid into her mouth. She needed to keep her faculties intact as she counted on the fact they would lose theirs. The drunker they became, the bolder she got at bluffing.
Frankie and JoJo stared at her cross-eyed and Sally even made a comment about the obscene mound of cash piling up in front of her. Grocery time. No need to get too greedy and put herself onto the local cops’ radar.
“I really can’t believe my luck. I never win more than one or two hands.” She hoped she sounded convincing.
“Yeah.” Frankie glared at her, a tic going spastic next to his eye. “I see that.”
It was obviously past time to exit stage right. “I appreciate you boys letting me play with you, but a friend’s waiting for me, so I must be going.”
Louie clamped his meaty hand around her wrist and stopped her flight. “I don’t think so. It’d be mighty unfriendly to just up and leave with all our dough without giving us a chance to win it back.”
Frankie folded his arms over his chest and nodded emphatically. “Yep. Mighty unfriendly of you. Deal her in, Sally.”
Deadly Love Page 8