The Gambler

by Lois Greiman

  Stunned as she was, she still managed a few good solid kicks to his shins. His low grunt of pain made her feel slightly better, but now he pulled her closer to the log, palm still clasped over her mouth as he peered over the rotten wood. A horse's low nicker of welcome greeted them.

  "Look at that," Raven said, letting Charm rise to her knees to peer into the darkness. “The horse came back."

  In a moment the gelding had his neck stretched over the log to gently nudge Charm's shoulder.

  "Amazing!" Raven said. "Somebody likes you. But then, you haven't tried to kill him yet." He rose to his feet. Even in the darkness he looked stiff. "Watch your shins, old man," he warned, moving to the back of the saddle. The gelding shuffled a step closer to the log.

  Charm looked into the big equine eyes and tentatively reached up with her bound hands to rub his brow. He lowered his head and seemed to sigh.

  "What's his name?" she asked.

  "How the devil would I know?" Raven worked at something behind the cantle. "You think he's my horse?" He glanced sideways now, studying the animal's head. He was white except for brown spots splashed randomly about his raw-boned body. His head was large, and had one ear that had been torn in half, so that it drooped pathetically. "You sure he's a horse at all? Leave it to Clancy to find the ugliest animal in the territory."

  "I think he's pretty," Charm said softly.

  "Yeah?" Raven looked at the horse before shifting his gaze to her. "Well, you're a sick woman."

  Charm scowled. All right, the horse wasn't exactly pretty, but he had heart, and he liked her, which was all that was necessary to endear him to her. "Why did you buy him if you think he's so ugly?"

  "I told you he's not my horse!" Raven stormed. "You think I had Clancy stashed away somewhere holding my mount, ready to save me from the eventuality of a lynch mob?" He snorted. "You think this is the kind of animal I'd choose if I had? I thought you knew all about men. Not that I want to crush your esteemed opinion of Bodine, seeing how you want to sleep with him and all, but he stole the animal, decided he hadn't made my life miserable enough yet, and came riding in..."—he waved vaguely into the darkness and spooked the gelding with his movement—"came riding in to remedy that fact," Raven finished. "It was just blind luck that the horse came wandering back here. And with the blankets tied behind." He threw one at Charm, spooking the animal again before moving away from the gelding.

  "Aren't you going to take his saddle off?" she asked. "You should."

  "Why?"

  "He'll get sore. What if he wants to lie down?"

  "I'm sore!" Raven said with a scowl. "Why shouldn't he be?"

  Charm scowled. "Because he didn't tie me up. You have to take his saddle off."

  "You want it off, you take it off," said Raven.

  Charm struggled to her feet. Her hands were still tied, making it difficult to scramble over the log to the gelding's side. He wasn't a big horse. Fourteen hands maybe, but he was built for endurance with solid bone and a well-sloped shoulder. She had always liked horses and had learned as much about them as her lot in life had allowed.

  Now she ran her hands down his neck, feeling the sinewy strength there before attempting to free the saddle. Her fingers, however, refused to cooperate, for they'd become stiff and unwieldy. She fumbled for a while, catching her inner lip between her teeth and frowning.

  "Oh, for Christ's sake," said Raven, pushing her hands aside. "Let me do that."

  The saddle was removed in a matter of moments.

  "You should take his bridle off, too."

  "You know, for a killer woman you're awfully concerned about this horse," said Raven, facing her in the darkness. "Or are you hoping that bridling him up again will delay us long enough for old Jude to ride down and skin me alive?"

  "He saved your life," she said tersely, referring to the horse. "The least you could do is let him rest comfortably."

  "And how am I going to rest comfortably?" Raven asked. "Knowing you're ready to slip a knife between my..."

  "Hey. Look at that," he said suddenly, his eyes falling on the saddle he'd just removed. "A lariat to tie up the pretty lady."

  Charm stiffened even more. "Don't you think I'm trussed up enough?"

  "No. Actually, I don't. Lie down."

  Panic flooded up in a sudden tide of cold. "I'll die first!"

  Raven stopped to stare at her through the darkness. "I consider myself a lucky man, Miss Charming, but no one's that lucky."

  "Leave me alone! I told you before I don't know anything about..." she began, but before she could finish her inflamed denial, his hand was plastered over her mouth again.

  "I told you my terms," he whispered. "One good lie and you go free. Got it?"

  There seemed nothing she could do but nod.

  "Good. Lie down."

  "Not—"

  He held his hand up, stopping her words. "I'm very tired, and my back hurts. My head hurts. Hell," he said conversationally, "everything I own hurts. But I'll tackle you again if that's the way you want it."

  She glared at him, finding that she, too, was exhausted. "Promise on your mother's name you won't touch me," she demanded.

  "Leave my mother out of this."

  For just a moment, Charm thought she heard a flash of emotion in his tone. Beyond all sense, it intrigued her. She craned her neck, trying to see his face in the darkness. "Why?"

  "She's gone." His voice was matter-of-fact again, but perhaps if she concentrated she could hear just the edge of bitterness in his tone. "No need to insult her further."

  "I didn't mean to—"

  "Just leave it alone," he said quietly.

  "But I didn't mean to..." She ran out of words. "Is she dead?" Charm asked softly, still trying to see his face.

  "Yes."

  "Oh." Only an idiot would allow herself to feel any kind of a bond with this strange man, of course. But she'd thought herself an idiot before. "Mine died just after birthing me."

  "No, she didn't." His voice was very low, and she canted her head, certain she'd not heard him correctly.

  "What?"

  "Listen, girl," he murmured, turning abruptly toward her, "I don't know what you're playing at, but the game's up."

  The sound of Clancy approaching through the undergrowth drew his attention. "If you want to go free, you'll lie there and come up with a damn good fib," he whispered, his face suddenly very near hers.

  Breath caught in a tight knot in Charm's throat. His eyes were steady and narrowed, his expression deadly. She swallowed hard, nodded once, and lay down.

  Chapter 8

  Charm remained silent. Her hands and feet were bound, and her back was against a log. She was chilled and cramped, and she longed for sleep but dared not try to find it.

  How had the world gone so insane? Why was this black-haired devil tormenting her? She studied Raven's form in the darkness. He, too, was lying down, though she doubted if he slept. In the moon-shadowed quiet, she couldn't tell whether his eyes were open or closed. The possibility of his watching her discouraged any attempt at escape. So she remained, sleepless and unmoving, fighting off her own private demons and wondering what to do.

  "Lie," he had said. But why? For Clancy's benefit? It was the only possibility she could think of. Though she couldn't make sense of it, Raven had promised to set her free if her fabrications were believable. It was crazy, but it was the best offer she'd been given.

  Despite the discomfort and dampness, sleep finally threatened to overcome Charm's senses. She fought back the brief bouts of unconsciousness and finally assembled the skeleton of a lie concerning Chantilly Grady. Her eyelids drooped languidly, allowing the darkness to seep from the outside world into her mind.

  A woman's scream brought her painfully awake. She jerked, attempting to sit up as she gazed wildly about, breathing hard and trying to find the danger. But there was none, except for that which her memory had again brought forth in the small hours of the night.

  "What's wrong?"
>
  Raven's voice surprised her. She started, trying to calm her nerves as she brought her gaze to bear on his shadowed face. "Nothing!" she said, then realized the terror that was obvious in her tone. "Nothing," she repeated, softer now, but already he was moving through the darkness toward her.

  "What is it?"

  As she managed to get into a more upright position, she struggled for a haughty tone to drive him back to the blanket he'd just abandoned. "I said nothing's the matter."

  Despite her best intentions, he moved closer still.

  "You're not getting sick, are you?"

  "Of course not," she said, but he raised the back of his fingers to her cheek nevertheless.

  She jerked away as best she could. "What are you doing?"

  "Checking for fever. You feel warm."

  "I'm not. I just..."

  "Just what?"

  "I had a bad dream, that's all," she said, and held her breath, her body tense.

  From somewhere in the woods an owl called. Silence fell again, and then the call was answered by the eerie note of another bird from far away. Somehow the sounds made Charm feel more alone. She shuffled her blanket higher up toward her neck.

  "You were scared." Raven's words were not a question, but a quiet statement bearing a light tone of surprise.

  "I didn't say I was scared."

  "No. You didn't."

  They stared at each other for a moment. The moon had sunk lower but still illumined Charm's face. Raven watched her in silence. A thousand questions burned his mind, but he pushed them back, pulling patience from the fray of emotions with a steady hand.

  "Tell me your dream," he said, settling back on his haunches.

  "No!" she cried then scowled, as if surprised by her own vehemence. "I mean, I never remember it."

  "You've had it before?"

  Her lips moved as if to answer him, but she shook her head instead. "Why are you doing this to me? Let me go."

  "I can't."

  "You mean you won't."

  "That's right." He nodded. "I won't. For your sake as well as mine."

  Her scowl deepened but did nothing to decrease her beauty. It was a disconcerting realization. "Was it about Jude?" Raven asked.

  "What?"

  "Your dream. Was it about Jude? Does he hurt you?"

  "No." Her answer was breathy and hard to be disbelieved, for her eyes had gone round and her lips soft, but perhaps it was all part of her act. Still, why would she want to deny the old man's abuse?"

  "Who, then? Who hits you, Charm?"

  "No one."

  "Then why are you afraid of being touched?"

  "I'm not."

  "Really?" he asked and, lifting his arm, brushed his fingertips across her cheek.

  Her gasp was sharp as she jerked away. Raven dropped his hand and watched her, waiting for an explanation. Her gaze dipped to her wrists, which were bound in her lap. Silence settled in again.

  "Well?" he asked finally.

  "I'm not afraid," she said quietly, then picked at the wool of her blanket and refused to look up. "I just know men, can read them like a book."

  "And what do you read in me?"

  "You?" Her tone sounded surprised as her gaze hurried to his face. He said nothing, but watched her. "You?" she repeated, more softly now. Her gaze skimmed his features, and she drew a deep breath, as if not discovering what she searched for. But she answered nevertheless. "You can't be trusted."

  The words were surprisingly short of conviction, Raven thought, for in truth, he couldn't be trusted. Not where anything but his own survival was concerned. "How can you tell?"

  "Because." She shifted uncomfortably. "You're a man."

  "No other reason?"

  "Isn't that enough?"

  Who was she? Who the devil was she? "Yes," he said finally. "I guess it is." He turned, needing to think in silence, but stopped in an instant to look at her again. "If I cut your hands free, could you sleep?"

  It was rather like asking a red vixen if she would eat the chickens if allowed the comfort of the coop. She would be a fool not to try to convince him to untie her hands, and though Charm Fergusson might be a lot of things, a fool was not amongst them.

  She shrugged, watching him and making him wonder if she had stopped breathing again. He'd like to believe his masculine allure was so powerful that she couldn't draw an even breath in his presence. Unfortunately he believed she simply hated him so intensely she sometimes forgot to inhale. Now, however, he wondered if it was fear. Another disconcerting thought. It was easier to keep his head and his distance when he'd simply thought her murderous. The belief that her dangerous side might be awakened by pure terror made things stickier somehow.

  "Could you sleep?" he asked again.

  "No."

  The honesty of her answer surprised him, and despite years of training, Raven failed to hide that fact. "Too cold?" Perhaps it was hope that made him guess that. Perhaps it was the thought of shared body heat that prompted it.

  "I don't sleep."

  "What's that?"

  She shrugged. "I just... don't sleep."

  "Ever?"

  She scowled, seeming to think him ridiculous. "When men are around."

  "Around? As in what? Within a few feet? A couple of yards? Fifteen miles?"

  She smiled. It was only a small, tentative expression of budding humor, and yet Raven tensed. No woman should smile like that, he thought distractedly. Not when the moonlight caressed her face like a lover's gentle touch. Not when her eyes were wide and brilliant, and her hair gleamed in touchable disarray. Not when he'd been celibate for damn near half an eternity! Oh, for Christ's sake, now he was forgetting to breathe.

  "What'd I say?" he asked against all good sense.

  "What?"

  “To make you smile. What'd I say?"

  "You make me sound very foolish," she said. One corner of her smile drooped slightly as she dropped her gaze to her lap again.

  There were perhaps a thousand questions he'd like to ask her and more things he'd like to do with her. Raven tightened his fists, gritted his teeth, and tried to keep his distance. "No. Not foolish. That much I know." With some disgust he lost the battle to remain at a distance and rose to cross the small distance between them.

  Her smile disappeared as he squatted before her, and though she winced when he reached for her wrists, she didn't pull away. The knot was surprisingly tight, but he forced it open before pulling the leather from her arms.

  "Don't run away," he said, his voice low, as if it came from somewhere deep inside. "I'd have to tackle you again." Her hand, where his fingertips touched it, was very soft, and her eyes as wide and round as the moon above. "We wouldn't want that," he whispered. "Would we?"

  She shook her head. Her lips were slightly parted, tilted up at the corners, and so damned tempting it made his teeth hurt.

  "You gonna just stare at her all night?" Clancy asked from behind.

  Charm jumped. Raven wished he had hit Bodine harder. Keeping his movements fluid now, he eased back, trying to look nonchalant.

  Clancy smiled, raising his brows at Raven before skimming his gaze to Charm and back. "Pretty, huh? I wouldn't stare at her if I was you. Not if you're ever planning to set her free." He laughed and shook his head. "Goddamn, this is gonna be good." Against all probability, Clancy walked away, chortling out of sight.

  Silence settled in, making Raven feel even stupider. Surely there were clever things he might say, but they weren't bursting from his lips, impatient to impress the silent beauty before him. "Get some sleep," he ordered ridiculously, and turned away to find his own blanket.

  "So, it's morning," declared Clancy.

  He looked refreshed and so damned cheerful that Raven considered throttling him. Besides, it wasn't morning. It was barely past dawn, which was still practically night to his way of thinking. It was the longest night Raven had ever experienced. He hadn't slept a wink, not a minute, and each second of lost slumber was weighing heavily o
n his head just about now.

  "Let's hear them questions," Clancy persisted. "You ready, Charm honey?"

  Charm. Raven had kept a watchful vigilance over her all night. It had been foolish to untie her hands, of course, but he couldn't trust her to stay put even if she was caged, bound, and hung from a cottonwood bough, so he'd determined to stand guard. She sat up now, slowly, looking wary and instantly alert. Had she slept at all or had she merely closed her eyes to keep him from watching him watch her?

  "I suppose we don't have any coffee," Raven said, not quite managing to take his eyes from the girl as he spoke to Clancy.

  "Coffee? No. Listen, Joseph, I spent one hell of an unfriendly night in this here wilderness. It ain't my usual style, and I didn't do it just to see how you look in the morning. Though I have to say," he admitted, glancing at Charm, "she looks a damn sight better than you. Anyhow, I'm ready to find out what happened to the Grady girl."

  Caution nagged at the worry in Raven's mind. It wasn't a good sign that Clancy had waited around as he had. Raven had hoped he'd up and leave during the night. The only predictable thing about Clancy Bodine was that he was unpredictable. Even if his former partner had taken both horses, Raven would have preferred that to Bodine's continued presence. Despite everything, Clancy was a damned good detective, and if he'd set his mind on finding Chantilly... Well, Raven could only hope he'd not overestimated Charm's ability to lie.

  "You won't be taking credit for this one, Bodine," he said now, playing his part with careful ease.

  Clancy smiled. He was a good-looking rogue of a man, with a long string of conquests to show for it. " 'Course not, Joseph. I'm just curious. No more. All the advertisement said was 'substantial reward for the girl's return.' Leaves a lot to a man's imagination."

  "Well, you can quit imagining. I've done the work, I'll take the credit."

  "Sure, Joseph, sure. But them New Eden boys can't be all dolts. Sooner or later they're gonna find us. Now, I know how you enjoy a good scrap, Joseph, but me, I prefer better odds than—Hey!" he suddenly whispered, his left hand motioning for quiet as his right whipped a small pistol from some hidden place on his person.

  Raven allowed himself to jump. Every trick would be needed to fool his old mentor.