The Gambler

by Lois Greiman

  There was so little warning. One minute she was soft and warm and yielding beneath him, and the next she was gone, simply gone. His hands were empty, his groin ached, and he was lying on his back, feeling sick to his stomach and looking up the ugly barrel of a sawed-off shotgun.

  Chapter 6

  It was not unheard of to hang a woman molester—not in these backwater western towns. Of course, New Eden wasn't a town in the technical sense. It was a mining camp, ravenously short of women, manners, and entertainment. Lynchings were considered damn good amusement.

  Raven stumbled down the muddy street, not feeling particularly amused or amusing. An unknown man was behind him. Henri and the other two grizzlies had either gotten themselves lost in the woods or had passed out somewhere near at hand. But it mattered little for it seemed every other able-bodied man had turned out for the festivities.

  "Charm!" Jude's voice was no more than a croak as he hurried from the saloon toward them. "You all right, gal?"

  She didn't answer, Raven noticed as he watched their meeting. The old man's face was pale but no more so than the girl's.

  "Did he..." Jude's words faltered momentarily as his gaze swept up his daughter's disheveled person to light on her dirt-streaked face. "Did he touch you?"

  Her lips parted slightly, as though she were searching for words. Raven held his breath and remained motionless. Now might be a damn good time to learn to pray.

  Blood infused Jude's face in a sweep of angry color, and his fists clenched at his sides, where, with great effort, he kept them as he went on, his voice low and raspy. "Did he disgrace you, child?"

  Her full mouth formed soundless words, her shoulders lifted, and her head moved, but whether it was a nod of affirmation or a shake of denial, even Raven couldn't tell. But now he saw that her face, too, had reddened, and that her gaze dropped from Jude's to the ground.

  Raven swore mentally just as Jude erupted into action.

  "I'll kill you!" he roared, charging toward Raven. But someone caught the old man's arm, dragging him to a halt before ducking beneath his fist and catching him about the middle. Jude struggled wildly, throwing punches and curses and trying to break free, but now two others were on him, holding him back with obvious difficulty.

  "There now, mister," said a man who had just joined the fray. "We ain't savages here in Eden. We got us some rules."

  "He disgraced my daughter!" Jude snarled. The veins in his neck were throbbing with rage, but his thrashing had subsided. "I'll kill him if it's the last goddamn thing I do."

  "There now. Just you simmer down," said the newcomer. "I didn't say we wouldn't be just. We'll have us a fair trial first." He nodded perfunctorily. "Then we'll hang 'im."

  Charm stood wordlessly at the edge of the crowd. Somehow she'd expected a trial to be different. Perhaps she'd even thought it might take place indoors or on another day. But tempers had been at the boiling point, heated up by Jude's ravenous oaths. There had been no delay. It all happened so fast. One moment she was trying to meet her father's gaze, and the next a lanky man called Judge was firing questions at her.

  Had Raven hurt her? Had he touched her? Had he shamed her?

  She'd stood like a mindless fish, trying to think, trying to gasp an answer. But there were men on all sides. Angry men, who crowded in and made it impossible to breathe, much less sort her scrambled thoughts, or proclaim the truth.

  And what was the truth? He had hurt her. Touched her. Shamed her. For, indeed, she was ashamed—so deeply humiliated that she felt surely she would die from it.

  Hadn't Jude told her a thousand times that men were not to be trusted? Still, she'd allowed the kiss. Fear coursed through her, for she'd not only allowed it, but for the briefest of seconds, she'd enjoyed it.

  "All right." In a matter of minutes, Judge's voice broke into her frantic reverie. "Guess we're ready, then. You got the rope, Fritz?"

  "Hell, no. It's Mason's job to bring the rope. You know that," answered the other.

  Charm's gaze snapped from the Judge to Fritz. This couldn't be happening. Someone would stop it. Someone must.

  "Mason!" yelled the judge.

  "Yeah. Yeah. I got it. Keep yer shirt on." A man with a paunch and a slouch hat pushed his way through the mob. He held a worn Bible in one hand and a rope in the other. "Where you wanna do this?"

  "Same as usual," said Judge. Suddenly the crowd was parting like the Red Sea, and the prisoner was prodded down the aisle of men toward the general store.

  "Wait," Charm said, but her voice barely carried to her own ears. "Wait," she repeated, barely louder, but the crowd either did not hear or did not wish to listen. "Jude," she called out hoarsely, and though her voice hardly worked, her legs managed to stumble up to her father's side. "Wait." She nabbed his sleeve, breathing hard. "You can't let them do this."

  "It's this or I kill him with my bare hands," ground out Jude, not looking at her. His tone was tight and hard. Charm swallowed.

  "He didn't... He didn't do it."

  If possible, Jude's gaze sharpened. "He didn't what?"

  "He didn't... force me."

  She could easily hear his sharp inhalation before the pause as he stared at her, his expression surprised, almost frightened. "Do you mean to say you wanted him, gal?" he whispered.

  Despite everything, Charm's jaw dropped in abject surprise. "No!" she said, trying to straighten out her own thoughts enough to make Jude understand.

  "Get that noose up there," someone yelled. "By God, Mason, you're as slow as a parson's mother."

  "Then he deserves worse than he's gettin'," Jude growled and turned away, his face a mask of raw anger.

  She stared at his back as he pushed his way through the crowd.

  "All right. Bring up the accused," shouted Judge, and suddenly Raven was pushed onto the boardwalk that ran the length of the camp's six wooden structures. He stumbled but caught himself on his palms.

  "Didn't you tie his hands?" came an exasperated question. "By God, you can't have a decent hanging without binding him proper. Fritz, you lay-about, tie up his hands."

  Fritz moved forward. Charm shook her head, trying to break free of this nightmare.

  "Put yer arms behind yer back, mister." She could hear Fritz's voice as if through a deep fog and watched mesmerized.

  "You boys ever heard of the Denver Rangers?" Raven's voice was barely raised but somehow managed to carry over the din of the shuffling crowd.

  "What's that?" asked Judge, bending his scrawny neck to the side.

  "The Denver Rangers," Raven repeated. "We been looking for the girl for eight months now."

  "Put yer hands back here now," Fritz insisted. Miraculously, Raven did so without a fuss.

  "Just hold up there, Fritz," said Judge. "What's this about a girl?"

  "Silver Sally." Raven held the judge's eye in a steady stare. "She's been working miners for years now. Didn't know she'd come this far north. But of course she would." He shifted his gaze to Charm's, and she caught her breath, temporarily stunned by the half-shadowed malevolence in his eyes. "Where there's a sucker with gold, there's Silver Sally."

  "Sucker with gold!" someone said, sounding immediately offended. "What's that?"

  "Such a sweet face," Raven said softly. "It's sure too bad."

  "What's too bad?"

  Raven shook his head as if saddened by the truth. "You mean to say you ain't heard what happened in Rockerville?"

  There were murmurings and shuffling before the miners silenced to listen intently. They were simple men who would protect a woman in danger, but how much quicker would they protect their own gold?

  "'Course you wouldn't have heard," Raven reasoned. "It just happened." He shook his head again. "When she left there was twenty men dead. And guess who had the gold?"

  "Why, you goddamn son of a bitch!" swore Jude, sweeping forward. Two men stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

  "I ain't believin' a word you say," warned Judge, though his voice lacked convict
ion. "Not about a lady like that!"

  "Known her long, have you?" asked Raven.

  "Well..."

  "Well, no!" said Raven, finally raising his voice. "And her accomplice, either. Jude Fergusson. Better known as Knife Angus in Texas."

  "Knife..."

  "She looks sweet," said Raven, "but if you check her pockets you'll find her gun. The same gun with which she killed Jimmy Tanner and all the rest."

  "He's lyin'," said someone, but his voice was quiet and uncertain, and several men had already turned jaundiced eyes in Charm's direction. She backed away a step, feeling her throat close up.

  "Lying?" asked Raven. "Do I look smart enough to fabricate this entire story? Would I spend eight months of my life tracking her down if she hadn't killed Jimmy?"

  More murmurings. Charm backed away another step, but suddenly she felt her back bump against someone's chest. She swung her gaze to the man's impassive face before looking hurriedly to Jude. But he, too, was now surrounded.

  "Go head," Raven urged. "Search her. Unless you don't care for your lives... or your gold."

  Suddenly the crowd was moving away from Raven and toward her in a solid, volatile mass.

  Panic welled in Charm like a dark tide, threatening to drown her. Dear God, she was surrounded, she thought and fumbled for her pocket, but just then a voice stopped her.

  "He's a lyin' skunk!" boomed Henri, pushing his gargantuan body through the crowd.

  Every man stopped in midstride, and every voice hushed, waiting breathlessly. All eyes turned toward the speaker. "Wasn't a hour ago he says he was her brother. He's a lyin' lowdown weasel," Henri proclaimed, jabbing a thick forefinger at Raven. "I say he deserves t'hang!"

  The crowd swung away from Charm like a pendulum, and Raven swore. His luck was running decidedly short, and he was fresh out of believable lies and ready artillery.

  He'd have to make a dash for it. But before he'd taken his first full step, a double-barrel shotgun was pressed into his torso. He came to a shuffling halt, hands raised, mind spinning.

  "String 'im up!" someone yelled, and the crowd surged forward to do just that, but suddenly there was the clatter of hoofbeats on timber.

  Two horses thundered down the boardwalk with Clancy Bodine bent low over the first animal's neck. Men scattered in every direction, shouting and cursing as they were slammed aside by the horses' crashing impetus. As it was, Raven himself jumped away just in time to escape being trampled and throw himself at the empty saddle that rushed past. He missed the horn with his first hand, but the second caught hold. He swung aboard as the spotted horse half reared, grazing Raven's head against the roof above.

  A gun exploded near at hand. The horse snorted, launching itself from the boardwalk into the crowd as Clancy tossed back the reins.

  Raven leaned from the saddle, grappling to catch them.

  Clancy's horse was still running, tearing straight down the boardwalk to leap from the end and thunder off. But Raven spun his mount in a circle now, searching the crowd for Charm.

  Another gun exploded, close at hand, and loud. Where was she? He spun the horse again, knowing it would be suicidal to give the good citizens of New Eden a stationary target. Men were running toward him now, leveling weapons.

  He found her suddenly, at the edge of the crowd, frozen with shock. From the corner of his eye he saw a man fire, but already he'd kicked his mount into a gallop. They raced through the throng. Men leaped from their path, momentarily forgetting their weapons as they strove to save their very lives.

  Raven knew the moment Charm realized his intent. Even from his place aboard the heaving horse, he saw her eyes go wide and heard her startled squeal of dismay. She began running, but too late! Raven bore down upon her like a vengeful demon, pushing his mount alongside her fleeing form.

  For a moment her face lifted. She gasped something inaudible and plunged to the right, but the horse followed like a well-trained cow pony. Raven abandoned the reins and, leaning from the saddle, snatched Charm from the ground.

  The effort was neither easy nor graceful. Charm screamed as she felt her feet leave the earth. She scrambled wildly, pummeling the air with her legs and nearly ripping Raven from the saddle. Her feet hit the ground again, but only for a moment, and then she was wrenched upward and dragged across his lap.

  From behind, men cursed and fired. The horse stumbled, slamming his knees into the earth. Charm screamed, and Raven swore, certain the animal had been shot. But in an instant the gelding heaved himself back onto all fours and thundered into the woods with the heart of a champion.

  They hit a downhill slide going full speed. There was nothing the riders could do but hold on and pray the horse kept his feet and avoided collision with the trees that rushed past.

  Level ground met them with a jolt. Raven drew his mount to a shuddering halt, glancing around him, assessing the possibilities. In that moment, Charm acted, squirming wildly to break free. With a curse, Raven yanked her back onto his lap, urging his mount into a gallop again.

  "You got a choice. Under his hooves or across my lap," Raven growled ferociously. But just at that moment, Charm pried her knees against the horse's side and pushed herself free.

  Raven yelled, nearly pulled from the saddle. She hit the ground with a gasp of pain and escaping air. Behind her was a rivulet, and if they traveled down that they might never be found. But freedom loomed before her, dragging her to her feet. She was running within a heartbeat of time itself, scrambling uphill knowing her advantage lay there, for the horse would be slower on the steep grade.

  The footsteps that followed her were not hoofbeats. She chanced a frantic look over her shoulder and gasped. Raven was on foot and no more than thirty feet behind, grasping tree limbs as he scrambled after her.

  Something grabbed at Charm's hair. She shrieked, fighting off the branches and scurrying uphill before she could be snared like Absalom and captured by the madman behind.

  Breath burned down her throat. A rock slipped beneath her skittering feet, and she fell, catching herself on her palms just before her face hit the earth. Pain shot through her hands and lungs. She pushed herself up, but suddenly something hit her back, and she was forced to the ground.

  "Here we are again," Raven's voice was scratchy and his breathing harsh, but the hand that covered her mouth was steady as the first rider topped the ridge above.

  Charm tried to scream in frustration and pain, but the sound was pushed down her throat. She could not see their pursuers, for her view was blocked by foliage and rocks, but she could hear their sliding descent.

  They passed within fifty feet of her, a stream of five or six riders who yelled questions to each other as they scrambled downhill. At the bottom they stopped. Charm could hear their horses milling, could hear their voices rise.

  "There! Heading east, along the creek!" someone yelled, and they were running again, spurring after the horse Charm had just abandoned.

  She lay now in last year's rotting leaves and fragrant pine needles, listening to the sound of retreating hoofbeats and feeling Raven's substantial weight across her back.

  "Do you always have such interesting relationships with men?" he asked, his lips very close to her ear.

  "Get off me."

  "And let you think of some new and creative way to cause my death? Not likely, Miss Charming. I've become rather fond of living."

  "It wasn't my fault," she whispered, still finding it hard to breathe for the weight of him spread across her back.

  "The hanging?" he asked, sounding sarcastically surprised. "No. Of course not. The miners just didn't like the look of me. Decided to string me up on principle alone." He eased off her an inch, allowing a little more air into her lungs. "Happens all the time."

  "It wasn't," she said.

  "Listen, my charming little murderess," he began, and suddenly she found herself flipped over onto her back, so that she was staring into his eyes. "I don't give a damn if you want me hanged. I don't give a damn what you t
hink of me, because the truth is I probably think even less of you. I want one thing and one thing only."

  Despite the lack of pressure on her lungs now, Charm found her air stopped up again. She shifted her gaze frantically to the side. He was much stronger than she. She couldn't fight off his advances. She had no choice now but to shoot him. If only she could reach her pocket.

  "Blast it all, woman, don't flatter yourself," he said, seeing the panicked look in her eyes. "I'm not interested in your person. I want to know about Grady." He leaned closer, staring directly into her face. "And I want to know now."

  "Well, hell, Joseph," called a voice from behind, "if you'da just told me you had good-byes t' say, I'da never busted into your party back there."

  Charm watched as Raven gritted his teeth before twisting about to face the source of the words. It was Clancy Bodine, casually sitting his horse as he watched them with a grin.

  "You planning on leading them back to me?" Raven asked, nodding in the direction the impromptu posse had taken.

  "Me? 'Course not. We're partners. Wouldn't make no sense to go through the trouble of saving your hide just to turn you in later. Joseph..." The man paused, tsking softly. "You got no faith in my good sense."

  Raven drew a deep breath. Charm could feel his chest expand.

  "It's not like you to lose a good horse like that, Joseph. I'm afraid he's long gone." Clancy tsked again. "Looks like you'll have to walk. But the girl... she can ride with me."

  Charm hadn't planned her escape. But the man named Clancy had a knife strapped to his waist while her own small weapon lay trapped beneath the weight of her body. The thought of her defenselessness spurred her into panicked action. Jerking her right arm from Raven's grasp, she swung with all her might. Her knuckles rapped hard against his skull.

  For just an instant, his body went slack, and in that condensed span of time she scrambled backward on hands and feet. But already he was marshalling his senses.