by Bobbi Smith
The game was going smoothly except for the farm boy who kept gawking rudely at her while he played.
"You know, Miz Brandy, if you're holdin' a pair like you already got, that'd be one hell of a great hand..." He laughed loudly at his own innuendo.
The other men shot him silencing glances, but he ignored them.
Brandy winced, but said nothing as she continued to play with grace and elegance. When, to her dismay, the boy won the hand, she covered her irritation with a smile.
"My, oh, my." He leered at her. "Since I won the hand, does the rest of the `lady' come with the pot, too?"
"Shut up, Jones. Don't talk to Brandy that way," one of the other men told him.
"I kin talk to her any way I want. If she's in the men's saloon, then she knows what she's askin' for and what she's gonna git," he declared, reaching across the table to snare her wrist. "What d'ya say, sugar? What did I win from you?"
Brandy was tempted to slap him, but she controlled her temper. "You won the pot, sir, and that's all."
"Oh, I think I won more than that." His grip tightened as she tried to pull away.
"This wasn't a game of stud. If it had been, I doubt the others would have let you join in."
Jones's expression darkened at her insult. "Look, lady ...I'll show you a stud..."
"Lady is right, son." The cold, hard sound of Rafe's voice cut through the room. "Now, take your hand off her. The only thing she deals is cards."
The threat in his tone stopped Jones, and he glanced around at Rafe to find himself staring into a pair of the deadliest eyes he'd ever seen.
Rafe had walked in to find the lout taunting Brandy and was immediately furious.
"Now, boy," he ordered, deliberately humiliating him.
Jones's hand dropped away, and he glared up at the stranger who had dared to interrupt him. "I won the hand."
"And that's all you won. Now, get the hell out of here if you can't act like a man." Rafe turned to look at Brandy. "Evening, Brandy," Rafe greeted her. He glanced back at Jones. "You staying in the game or clearing out?"
Jones was furious. He snatched up his pot and stomped from the room.
"Thank you, Rafe." Brandy hated to have to thank him, but she did breathe a little more easily with the other man gone.
Rafe took his seat and gave her a slight nod.
"You're in?" she asked.
"I'm in," he replied.
"Since the company has vastly improved, shall we play stud this time?" she asked daringly, looking around the table.
"Whatever you want, Miss Brandy," the men replied. "None of us will give you a hard time."
"I think I feel like a game of stud tonight," Rafe replied with a crooked smile.
Though Jones's words and actions had annoyed Brandy, at Marchand's response, her heart did a strange flip-flop.
"Stud it is," she replied, giving him a smile in return.
Several hours later, as the night wound down and play ended, Brandy graciously took her leave. It had been a very prosperous evening for her. As she always did, she left her winnings in the safekeeping of the bartender and retired to her cabin, pleased with the way things had gone.
Lottie and Rachel spent hours creating the perfect plan, and they were ready to tell their parents about it at breakfast the next morning. Before they could broach the subject, though, their parents brought up the topic of Rafe.
"Lottie, I ran into Rafe Marchand in the bar last night," James told them.
"You did? Did he say anything about me? How was he?" Lottie asked, eager to know everything that had transpired.
"He was just fine, and, no, he didn't say anything about you."
"Oh." Lottie sighed heartbrokenly, wishing that he had.
"I mentioned that we were all traveling upriver. He said that he might attend the social after dinner tonight." James doted on his daughters and spoiled them. Whatever they wanted, he saw to it that they got.
"I hope so. I want to do something to get his attention, and I want to do it now. This trip is the perfect time. You know, Papa... Mama... Rachel and I have come up with an idea. But we're going to need your help to make it work."
"You've got an idea of how to get him to propose?" her mother asked, wanting to hear their plan.
"Yes." She quickly told them the plot they'd devised.
When James looked up at his oldest daughter, he was smiling. "It's brazen and will take a lot of nerve, but if it works, you'd have him at the altar the following day."
"I want Rafe Marchand, Papa. I'll do anything to get him."
"All right. We'll do it," Helene agreed.
"Now, listen carefully, girls," James began. "This is what we have to do...."
All were smiling widely when he finished explaining his part in their strategy.
"Papa, you're brilliant."
"Thank you." He was gloating, more than pleased with what they'd come up with. Soon, Lottie would have a husband and he'd have a rich son-in-law.
"Tonight's the night, then?" Helene asked, excitement glowing in her eyes.
"Yes. I'll be in the men's saloon keeping an eye on things. Once he leaves, I'll wait about twenty minutes and then follow. That should give you plenty of time to maneuver him where you want him. Think you can do it, Lottie?"
"When I want something, Papa, I get it."
"That's my girl. This will work. I'm sure of it."
The prospect of having Rafe Marchand in the family more than satisfied Helene and James. Suddenly, they didn't mind having had only daughters for their offspring anymore. This was going to be wonderful-once all the shouting was over.
After dinner that night on the Pride, there was dancing in the grand salon. Rafe had wanted to go with Marc to the bar, but had run into James Demers and had been cornered into a business conversation. James was asking Rafe about how he'd been upgrading the stables at Bellerive when the ladies joined them.
"You remember my daughters, Lottie and Rachel, and my wife, Helene, don't you, Rafe?" James asked.
"Of course. It's lovely to see you ladies again."
"It's good to see you, too," Lottie managed, barely able to contain her excitement. Her gaze was hungry upon him. He was all she'd ever wanted in a man, and all she could think of was that soon he was going to be her husband. Brazenly, she asked, "Shall we dance? I do love this melody."
"Of course." Rafe saw no way out. Ever the gentleman, he offered her his arm and squired her out onto the dance floor.
Lottie was in heaven as they moved about the room. Surely her feelings were not all one-sided. She glanced up, hoping to find his gaze upon her. Instead, she found him staring off into the distance. Determined to monopolize his thoughts, she started to talk.
"Why are you bound for St. Louis, Rafe?"
"Business, I'm afraid. This is not a pleasure trip." Rafe found her attempts at conversation irksome. He caught sight of Brandy with the captain across the room. She had just looked his way when Lottie began to talk and he was forced to pay attention to her.
"Pity. I do love St. Louis. We could enjoy it together, you know. There are a lot of things we could do...." She fluttered her lashes at him.
"Perhaps, if there were time, but from the looks of things, I'm going to be very busy."
"Well, if you find a moment, I would love to spend more time with you."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Rafe was glad when the dance ended and he could take Lottie back to her father.
"Thank you for the dance, Lottie. Now, if you'll excuse me?"
"Of course." Lottie sighed rapturously. When he was out of earshot, she turned on her father. The look in her eyes was determined. "I'm going to marry him, Papa. He's the only man I want."
"Then we'll do it."
"Tonight?"
"Tonight."
Lottie was smiling brightly at the thought of what was to come. Rafe Marchand didn't stand a chance. And once he was caught, she was going to make him a wonderful wife.
Raf
e finally escaped to the men's saloon and enjoyed a bourbon at the bar. When Brandy arrived and took her place at the table, he remained at the bar, watching her play from a distance. He told himself that he hadn't really been eager to see her tonight, that he only wanted to win back what he'd already lost. But after dancing with the clinging Lottie, being around Brandy was like a breath of fresh air.
"Good evening, Brandy," he said as he joined her game some time later.
"Hello, Rafe," she welcomed him, trying not to think about the way she'd felt when she saw him in the other woman's arms on the dance floor. "Your friend Marc, here, is having a lucky night. This is the third hand he's won in a row."
"It's about time," Marc laughed. "After last night, I was beginning to wonder if I should ever play poker again."
"Obviously, you should," Rafe said, seeing the winnings stacked before him. "I had a bad night last night, too. Let's see if my luck's turned and I can lighten your pockets a little."
Play began again.
An hour later, Marc leaned back in his chair. "Well, I think I've taken enough of your money for one night," he announced with a chuckle. He had continued his winning ways and was feeling more than pleased with himself.
"I think you should stay longer, so we can all have a chance to win our money back," Rafe said, knowing full well that Marc was quitting because Merrie and Jason would be at his door at the crack of dawn.
"I'll give you another chance tomorrow. Miss Brandy, thank you for a delightful evening."
"Good night, Marc."
The other gamblers were glad to see him go. They, along with Rafe, hoped their luck would change for the better now that he was gone.
Only Rafe proved the beneficiary of his departure, though. He won the next game and smiled to himself He'd taken the time over the last few nights to study Brandy's style of play, and he had come to recognize a subtle difference in the way she sat at the table when she held a good hand. There was a slight shift in her shoulders, a straightening of her back, that gave her away, and winning this hand had just proven his theory. He was going to enjoy winning back everything he'd lost to Brandy and then some. It might take him a night or two, but he was going to do it.
"It looks as if Marc passed his good luck along to you. I could use a friend like him," Brandy said.
"So could I," one of the other men said, sighing over his losses.
"Me, too," another added as he studied his cards hopelessly.
Rafe just laughed as he raked in his winnings. "I'll tell him you all said so."
Rafe finally quit the game and left the bar at midnight. He'd had his share of bourbon, but was not drunk. He was merely comfortable as he headed for his cabin.
Brandy continued to play. As long as there were men there willing to lose their money to her, she was more than happy to oblige. She noticed how odd the man named James Demers had been acting. He had been drinking heavily all night and seemed preoccupied with watching Rafe. He had paid particular attention when Rafe left the room, and since then had been nervously checking his pocketwatch every other minute or so. At one point, the man said something to the bartender and then laughed at his own remark, raising his glass in toast to himself. Brandy hadn't been able to hear what he'd said, and when the hand ended, she excused herself to go speak with the barkeep. She called him down to the end of the bar so she could talk to him privately.
"Is something wrong, Brandy?" he asked, wondering at her unusual move in seeking him out.
"No. I was just wondering what Demers was laughing about."
"It's strange. After I poured that last bourbon, he checked his watch and said that by this time tomorrow he'd have a rich son-in-law. Then he toasted himself. I don't know what the hell he was talking about."
"He didn't mention any names?"
"No, he was just mouthing off about some man his daughter was in love with and how they were going to be married very soon."
Brandy remembered Rafe dancing with the woman earlier that night. She frowned. Her instincts were screaming that something strange was going on. "He sure got nervous when Marchand left, didn't he?"
The barkeep nodded.
"I think I'd better pay Mr. Rafe Marchand a call. I owe him since he helped me with Jones. He could be in for a big surprise. Tell the boys I had to retire for the night, and I'll see them tomorrow."
"They won't be happy. They're all waiting for you to come back."
"Give them a round on me."
"Whatever you say," he agreed, seeing the determination in her gaze.
The deck was deserted and all was quiet as Rafe reached his cabin. He went in, thinking only of the comfort of the bed that awaited him. He threw the covers back and started to undress, unbuttoning his shirt. He had just shrugged out of it when a knock came at his door. Rafe frowned, thinking it had to be Marc. He didn't stop to put his shirt back on, but hurried to open the door.
Rafe had been prepared to see Marc. The last person he'd expected to find at his door was Lottie Demers, but there she was, staring up at him with a hungry look in her eyes. He could almost feel the heat of her gaze upon him, and he was very sorry that he hadn't taken the time to put his shirt back on. "Lottie?"
"Evening, Rafe," she said softly.
"Just one moment..."
He turned, meaning to grab his shirt and put it on, but she was too quick for him. In the time it took him to reach for the garment, she had slipped inside the room and was closing the door.
"Lottie? What are you doing? You shouldn't be in here. It's late, and I was just about to go to bed...."
"But I needed to talk to you, Rafe. It's important." Her voice was breathless.
"This is hardly the time or place for a nice young lady like you to be paying a single man a visit. If your father were to catch you here, there'd be hell to pay."
"But, Rafe," she said with a note of desperation. "I have to talk to you in private. Please.. .It'll only take a minute...."
"No. Not tonight. I'll be more than willing to meet with you in the morning, but not here in my room tonight."
Lottie realized she was getting nowhere and knew her father wouldn't be along for another few minutes to entrap them. She had to stall. She had to get Rafe into the bed and she had to do it now. In a brazen move, she began to unbutton her bodice. "Rafe... The way I feel about you..."
"Lottie, I want you out of here," Rafe warned, in no mood to deal with her.
"I know it's crazy.... But..." She blurted out, "I love you!"
"You have to leave now!" he said in a stern voice that would have left anyone else quaking.
Not Lottie, though. She knew her wedding was as close as tomorrow morning. Just as soon as her father showed up, everything would turn out perfectly. "Rafe... I want you..."
Rafe backed away from her and was reaching for the door, getting ready to leave himself, when suddenly the door opened and Brandy rushed in. She took one quick look around and went straight into his arms, ignoring his stunned and wary expression.
"Thank heaven you waited for me!" she said, linking her arms about his neck and pulling him down to her. In a rushed whisper, she said, "Play along with me!"
"Brandy, I..." Rafe wanted to know what she was doing there, but there was no time.
Brandy kissed him full on the mouth to silence him. It was a passionate kiss, and Lottie couldn't believe what she was witnessing.
"How can you want her?" Lottie gasped at the sight of the man she wanted embracing Brandy. "Rafe, this is ridiculous! She's beneath both of us! She's nothing but a hussy!"
At that particular moment, her father came bursting into the room, followed by another man from the bar. James had thought he would find his daughter in Rafe's embrace and have won himself a son-inlaw. Instead, he found Rafe and Brandy wrapped in each other's arms, and Lottie looking on in tears.
"What's going on in here?" James bellowed as he and the other witness looked on in shock.
They had all heard that Brandy didn't give out her favor
s. They realized now that everything they'd heard about her had been wrong.
Brandy broke off the kiss and glanced archly at him. "Why, Mr. Demers...What are you doing here?"
"I was about to ask you the same! My daughter-"
"Your daughter was just leaving," Rafe spoke up. "And if I were you, I'd keep a more careful watch over her. The young lady is quite headstrong and is going to get herself into trouble if you're not careful."
"But she's in your room and you're halfundressed!"
"The woman I want is right here in my arms," Rafe said smoothly. "I told Lottie that this wasn't a good time for a visit, but she came in uninvited anyway."
"Rafe knew I was due here at any minute, and he didn't want to embarrass the poor innocent little girl." Brandy said each word with emphasis, letting them know that they fully understood that Rafe had been set up. "Think how devastating it would be to her reputation if it was learned that she had been in Rafe's room-unchaperoned."
James paled. "But my daughter has been compromised-"
"Your daughter was foolish enough to push her way in here when Rafe was expecting me. Her reputation will be in tatters if word of this gets out," Brandy pointed out.
"As would yours."
Brandy shrugged as if her own situation was of no import. "I've dealt with worse than gossip in my life, but I'm not so sure about Lottie."
James gnashed his teeth in frustration. Their wonderful plan had failed. Lottie had done everything right. She'd gotten into Rafe's cabin in time, and he himself had appeared on schedule, but somehow, things had turned out badly. There was no way to force Rafe to marry Lottie now. James would never have guessed that Brandy and Rafe were involved, but he had seen her in his arms.
"Come on, Lottie. This is no place for you."
The young woman looked crushed as she quit the room with her father and the other man following her. They closed the door behind them, leaving Rafe and Brandy alone.
Brandy immediately moved out of Rafe's arms. His kiss had been powerful, more exciting than she'd ever dreamed, and that frightened her. It had felt right to be in his arms, but she knew she had to fight the feeling.