Gambling on the Outlaw

by Margaret Madigan

  “Where’s the mining office?” Beth asked.

  “Probably closed for the day. We’ll have to file the papers tomorrow.”

  “Then I suppose we’ll need a room for the night.”

  “Rooms.” No hotel would rent one room to an unmarried couple.

  “Do you have some cash I don’t know about? When I left I wasn’t planning on needing to rent multiple rooms, board the horses, or pay for food, so I didn’t bring any money along. All I have is a couple of gold nuggets and I’m not trading them for room and board.”

  “Looks like we’ll have to set up camp somewhere outside town.”

  She scrunched her nose. “I’m done sleeping on the ground. I’m tired and sore and we both smell ripe. I have an idea.”

  I followed her gaze to the saloon. Before I could ask what in tarnation she had in mind she’d already tied the paint to the rail and limped in the door. A few days on the horse and off her ankle and it was almost healed, with only a trace of limp left. I tied Big Black next to Little Sister, and followed her.

  Inside, the thick tang of cigar smoke and the jangle of a cheap piano filled the air, and I found a completely different Beth. Despite the men’s clothes and her admitted dirty state, she’d sauntered into the midst of the poker tables and without a shred of shame she worked those men. She smiled and tossed her blond hair and laughed a sweet, sexy laugh that made all my male parts—and by the looks of it those of the rest of the men in the room—stand up and take notice.

  She approached a table with a game underway, resting her arm on one man’s shoulder and leaned over the table. Since I was behind her all I could see was her ripe little bottom on display in those pants, but all the men in front of her were privy to her other ripe parts on display. Enough was enough. She had to be out of her mind if she thought I’d let her earn the money for a room by selling herself to one of those men. I marched over to her and grabbed her by the upper arm, yanking her to stand beside me.

  “What in hellfire do you think you’re doing?” I said.

  All the men at the table shoved their chairs over in a rush to stand and defend her honor. Several guns came out. If nothing else, she certainly knew how to play her advantages.

  She glared daggers at me, then pulled her arm from my grip. Turning her sweetest smile on the men, she placed a hand on the nearest gun, lowering it.

  “Gentlemen, please. There’s no need.”

  “Who is this no-account?” one of them growled.

  Before I could answer, she glanced at me and winked, which caused my gut to clench. I sensed trouble coming.

  “He’s just my little brother. He’s a bit touched in the head. Me and my sisters share the responsibility of looking after him. We pass him around between us, and it’s my turn. He takes his job of protecting me a little too seriously sometimes, don’t you, Ike?”

  She patted my chest in the most sisterly gesture she could muster. I had no idea what she was playing at, but despite the insult, and now that I knew she wasn’t planning on whoring herself out, I was interested to see where it went.

  “Aye, Sis.”

  “So, as I was saying, boys, how about you deal me in for a hand?”

  “Darlin’, this game is for men. You wouldn’t be able to handle it,” one man said. He puffed on his cigar with a smug smirk on his face. Beth’s spine stiffened just enough so I noticed, though I was probably the only one. Then she put on a bit of a pout.

  “What’s the matter, sweetheart? You afraid?”

  This guy must have been the table leader. All the others laughed or grinned at the idea, but waited for him to answer.

  He could see he was stuck. If he turned her away, everyone’d think he was yellow. If he allowed her to play, he looked like he’d been played by a girl. Which he had. I figured he’d better get used to it because it didn’t look like she was done yet.

  He grunted which passed as permission. “No skin off my nose. Maybe it’ll teach you where women belong.” His mood had gone from smug to grumpy.

  “And where would that be?” Beth asked as she grabbed a chair from another table and squeezed it into the space the rest of the men had made by scooting over.

  “In the kitchen or in bed waiting for their men.”

  I smiled to myself and grabbed a chair of my own, settling in behind Beth where I could watch the action. If I knew Beth at all, she’d teach him a lesson or two.

  “I’m Elizabeth, by the way,” she said.

  The table leader and the rest of the men introduced themselves and settled in to play.

  “Now, Miss Elizabeth, what, pray tell, do you plan to use as your stake in the game?” The leader gave her the once over, assessing her looks and judging her as he did. “You don’t appear to be rolling in riches.”

  “As it turns out, looks are deceiving.”

  She reached into her pocket and came out with the smaller of her two nuggets. I coughed loud enough that I hoped she’d understand it as a caution. It was hers to risk as she chose, but if she wasn’t willing to use it to pay for a room, why risk losing it in a poker game? She had no way of knowing how good these men were.

  “That’s a fine-size nugget. How’d you come by it?”

  “It fell into my possession. Will you all accept it as a stake? How much will you spot me for it?”

  Each of them took turns fondling the nugget, probably imagining winning it. It finally ended up in the leader’s hands.

  “We’ll spot you a hundred. Sound fair, boys?”

  “It’s worth more, but it’ll get her started,” another man said.

  The third man said, “Don’t much matter since it’ll be in one of our pockets soon enough.”

  The rest of them laughed long and loud. I hoped Beth knew what she was doing.

  “We’ll see,” she said. “Someone going to deal, or are we going to sit around like a bunch of ladies gossiping and sipping tea?”

  The leader’s smile disappeared and he slapped a hand on the deck, jerking it back and shuffling with expert speed. Beth cut the deck, then the leader dealt. He puffed his cigar as he considered his hand.

  From my vantage I couldn’t see anyone’s cards, even Beth’s, so I sat back and played my part—slow-witted younger brother—hoping Beth hadn’t made a big mistake.

  It took her about an hour of pained playing where she lost as much as she won, and then she got good and lucky, winning back her stake plus twenty dollars.

  “Thanks, boys, but I’m out. I know how to quit when I’m ahead,” she said, scraping her chair backward on the wood floor.

  Something in her voice sounded mocking to my ear, but the men took her seriously, laughing that she considered twenty dollars “ahead.”

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. It was a pleasant diversion having a pretty face at the table,” one of them said.

  “We took it easy on her and you know it. Hell, I let her win just to get rid of her. Simple poker was getting tedious,” the leader said.

  Beth gave her best grin. “Well, either way, I appreciate you letting me play.”

  She plucked the nugget from the table and slipped it into her pocket, then scooped up the handful of cash. It wasn’t a very big pile for how she’d struggled to win it, but it was more than we’d walked in with. When she stood, she tipped her hat to them.

  I wasn’t quite sure what had happened since it all happened so fast. It didn’t look like the kind of game I was used to—a bunch of cowhands playing cards in the bunkhouse for a few coins and to kill time.

  “What did you just do?” I whispered as we left the saloon. It felt like we were skulking away from the scene of a crime.

  She turned her smile on me and blinked like she didn’t understand the question. “I played poker and I was lucky enough to win a little money. I just hope it’s enough for a meal and couple of rooms.” She sniffed the air and made a gagging sound. “And maybe a couple of baths.”

  There was something disturbing in her eyes—a wicked glitter—that struc
k a chord. This giddy Beth gave me a peek at the woman I’d heard rumors about—the wild one. It stirred up memories of the heady thrill of gun fighting. I wasn’t so sure I cared to see that thrill in Beth, but I felt a kind of kinship with her. I knew what it was like to have those demons, too.

  “Should we eat first? I’m starved,” she said. “Playing always makes me ravenous.”

  “I thought you wanted a bath.”

  “I do, but I don’t want to put dirty clothes on again to come back down here to eat.”

  I didn’t understand the logic since we’d smell bad either way, but my gut growled at the thought of food, so who was I to argue?

  We took the horses to the livery and boarded them, then headed for the International Hotel, hauling Beth’s saddlebags with us.

  The clerk at the front desk gave Beth and her men’s clothes a disapproving look, then turned to me.

  “A room, sir?”

  “Two,” I said.

  He checked his book. “I have two on the second floor. It’ll be six dollars.”

  Beth counted her cash. “You don’t have any cheaper rooms?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  She sighed. “Fine. We’ll take one room. And two baths.”

  “Are you two related?”

  “Yes, sir,” I said.

  He didn’t hand me the key right away. Instead he eyed us suspiciously. “How?”

  Remembering Beth’s earlier ruse, I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and pulled her into a brotherly hug. “Brother and sister.”

  But Beth was still in a mischievous mood and stood up onto her tiptoes to plant a kiss on my lips. She flung her hair over her shoulder and winked at the clerk. I shoved her off and shrugged.

  “Sorry. She’s a bit of a rascal.”

  “Hmph. Looks to me like she needs a firm hand. You should find her a husband. Get her under control.”

  I started to laugh at the idea of anyone getting Beth under control, and then the thought of her belonging to some other man killed my amusement. I didn’t want any other man touching her, kissing her, or changing her.

  “Just give me the key,” I said, working to keep the growl out of my voice but mostly failing.

  He rolled his eyes, but I held out my hand and he finally gave me the key.

  “Room 207,” he said. “Men’s bath is at the south end of the hall, women’s at the north. That’s an extra dollar apiece.”

  Beth handed him the money, though I suspect he’d inflated the price just on principle.

  “Thank you kindly,” Beth said, offering him a playful tip of her hat.

  We left the saddlebags at the front desk and headed for the dining room where we got more sour looks, but we sat in the back and managed to offend only the waiter.

  We ate beef stew and cornbread, but I didn’t taste it. All I could think about was Beth married to another man. I’d be dead—either killed by Dearborn or hanged—and she’d be in someone else’s bed, her soft, warm thighs wrapped around him. What if it was Dearborn’s bed? What if I failed to kill him and somehow he convinced her to marry him after I was gone? Suddenly the food in my mouth lost its appeal and I struggled not to gag on it.

  “What is your problem?” Beth asked. “You’ve been a bear ever since we rented a room.”

  “Don’t marry Dearborn.”

  She snorted a wry little laugh. “I don’t intend to.”

  “You don’t understand. I’m asking you to swear you won’t marry that piece of shit when I’m gone.”

  “I thought you were going to kill him.”

  I didn’t miss the hint of sarcasm in her voice.

  “That’s my intention, and I’ll do everything I can to do just that. But if I fail for some reason, promise you won’t marry him.”

  Temper darkened her eyes and she leaned across the table to get her point across. “If you want a say in who I marry, then don’t get yourself killed.”

  I knew she was putting aside the charade we’d been playing since the cabin and was admitting how much she wanted me. As much as I wanted that, too, I couldn’t give it to her. “Beth, please. One way or another I’m dead. And when I’m gone, you can’t marry him.”

  “You haven’t earned the right to ask anything of me,” she said, her voice a tight whisper. My gut cramped at the thought that she’d even consider sharing herself with him. If I couldn’t have her, he sure as hell wouldn’t. It made me sick to even consider.

  She sat back and when she spoke her voice had a bitter edge. “But you’re in luck. Because, like I said, I don’t intend to marry him.”

  “You swear?”

  “God, you’re stubborn.”

  That wasn’t an answer and she knew it. And she knew I knew it, so I just waited for her to give me a real one.

  “Fine,” she said. “If you don’t kill him, I swear I won’t marry him.”

  I let out the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. She may still marry someone else, and that was enough to make me queasy, but at least it wouldn’t be Dearborn.

  Our dinner conversation dampened Beth’s mood for a while, but once her belly was full, and with the promise of a bath and a bed, the cheeky, willful Beth returned.

  We paraded through the dining room on our way to collect Beth’s bags. People stared or whispered as we passed.

  “It’s as if nobody here’s ever smelled someone well traveled,” Beth grumbled.

  “I suspect it has more to do with your wardrobe,” I offered.

  “You’d think there was enough gossip and drama in this town already without a woman in trousers being considered a spectacle.”

  She had no idea. It wasn’t just the trousers, it was the way she wore them. Like she belonged in them. Like her determined walk and blond hair loose and bouncing under her hat didn’t flout everything people thought a woman should be. She was blind to it all, and this reckless side of her left me worried and concerned, but also a little proud. How could I not admire her spunk, when it was one of the things I liked best about her?

  We found our room. Of course it had only one bed. I figured I’d be sleeping on the floor since sharing the bed was out of the question. It encouraged wishful thinking for both of us, which was a waste of time, and I shouldn’t continue to encourage Beth’s fanciful thinking. Still, after having slept on the ground for several nights in a row another stolen night with Beth in a comfortable bed was sweet incentive. So I didn’t immediately offer to take the floor.

  She dumped her things on a chair and dropped her hat on the table. “I’m going for a bath. I suggest you do the same.”

  “I don’t have any clean clothes, so what’s the point?”

  “Wash yourself, then wash the clothes in the same tub.”

  “You expect me to dress in wet clothes?”

  She grinned. “If wearing wet clothes makes you happy, go ahead. I plan on laying mine out to dry.”

  It was fine to moon over her, but spending the night together in that small room—in the buff—would test my resolve far beyond where I felt capable of resisting.

  “Maybe I’ll just go stay with the horses. Seems like a safer proposition.”

  She smirked with that teasing glint in her eyes. “Suit yourself.”

  ~Beth~

  Isaac actually went to sleep with the horses. I didn’t think he’d do it, but he hightailed it without looking back.

  I sank a little deeper into the full copper tub and sighed as the hot water relaxed my body. The high from the earlier card game had started to dissipate. After getting a peek at the old Beth, I couldn’t really blame Isaac for making tracks. It had been a long time since I’d played and I may have gotten a bit carried away by it. Those poor men thought they’d got the best of me, but it had taken some restraint to win only twenty dollars. I supposed once the excitement got in the blood, it didn’t matter how long it had been since the last game, it never went away completely.

  I closed my eyes and tried to put Isaac out of mind by daydreaming about the
gold mine—about what it meant to me and the girls, but he refused to leave my thoughts. It wasn’t really a fair expectation, though. How could I not think about him while I was naked in a tub of luxuriously hot water? My body ached for him. He’d let me sleep next to him while we traveled, and he’d tolerated my cheerfulness, but he’d been ever the gentleman. The entire trip to Virginia City had been awkward.

  He still wanted me but I was still losing him.

  Then there’d been the odd conversation at dinner. I’d already resolved not to marry Clay, and Isaac knew that, so I wondered why he had the sudden need to make me swear not to.

  I squirmed in the tub. I didn’t want to follow that line of thought. It was time to get out and wash my clothes. Maybe enough gold—even a whole mine full—would be enough to buy Isaac’s freedom from Clay and Sheriff Dawson.

  I sat up so fast water sloshed over the edges of the tub. That was it. That was how I’d save Isaac. Dawson and Dearborn were just greedy enough it might work.

  Chapter Thirteen

  ~Beth~

  I tossed and turned all night thinking about my plan. I almost got up and went to the livery to tell Isaac about it, but I wanted it to be at just the right time, not me running in wrinkled and tangle-haired. He’d probably think I was crazy.

  So I waited. In the morning I got up, washed my face, brushed my hair, dressed, and took the stairs down to the lobby where I found Isaac already waiting for me. He slouched against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, hat in hand and that hair of his hanging loose in his face.

  My skin heated and desire shot quick, deep to my belly. Just the sight of him made me smile, and convinced me that my plan was the right thing to do.

  “Hey there,” I said, descending the last few stairs.

  He turned and when he saw me I thought for just a second I recognized in his eyes the same thing I’d felt when I saw him. Then he smiled and I melted a little more. It was getting kind of silly. But I couldn’t help it. He made me happy.

  “So, should we go stake our claim?”