“A few years, I think. I don’t know for sure.”
“What does he do? I mean, for a living?”
The young man pondered the question, then shrugged. “Why, now that I think about it, I don’t rightly know, but he always seems to have plenty of dough. Spends most of his time at Carl Mann’s saloon at the blackjack table.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, can’t say I blame him. I wouldn’t want to be around that wife of his either. She’s meaner than a rattlesnake what done got stepped on.”
She burst into laughter. “You have quite a way with words, Mr. Montgomery.”
“Why, thank you, ma’am. How come you asking all these questions?”
“Like I said, he looks familiar to me.”
“Why don’t you just go ask him?”
“Because if I’m mistaken, I’ll be embarrassed.”
He shrugged his shoulders, then stood up. “I don’t see why it’d bother you, but it’s your call. Well, I’m a mite thirsty. Guess I’ll mosey over and get a drink.”
“Well, I hope you’re not dipping into the same drinking pail as everyone else. The liquor’s flowing freely.”
“Linda Sue said the same thing so it’s lemonade for me. Can I get you some?”
“Yes, thank you.”
As he strolled away, a man approached and requested a dance. She shook her head, and he walked away. After twice more rejecting suitors, they left her alone.
She studied the tops of her silver slippers, also a present from Amelia. She couldn’t just approach Thaddeus Grayson and ask him about the wanted poster. She had a hunch too that his wife wouldn’t take kindly to unexpected callers at their house. Her mind raced from one idea to another. She discarded each one of them until...she had the perfect plan.
If Grayson spent all his time gambling at the saloon, she could use her talent as a blackjack dealer to meet him. All she needed was a job at the saloon. Maybe she could get him to talk about his past or let something slip. Her father had kept that wanted poster for a reason, and she was determined to find out what it was.
A pair of boots appeared in her line of vision. She raised her head and met Evan’s gaze. “What do you want?”
“May I have this dance?” He held out his hand.
Startled, she could only stare at him.
“May I have this dance?” he repeated.
The people around her suddenly grew quiet. Even without looking, she knew they were watching her and Evan. Not wanting to make a scene, she rose to her feet. “Of course.”
He took her hand and led her out onto the dance floor. As she went into his arms, she vowed she’d not succumb again to his touch and his nearness. He was a marvelous dancer, and she felt at ease in his arms. Like she belonged there. The thought came unbidden.
“I want to apologize for my earlier actions. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
She glanced up at him. Despite her anger, she fought the urge to reach up and stroke his cheek. “You not only scared me. What if someone saw us? What would they think?”
“I don’t really care, but since you seem to, I apologize again.”
He looked down at her with that look in his eye. She stumbled and would have fallen had he not caught her to his chest. At the contact, a tremor of delight coursed down her spine. This dance had been a mistake.
“Listen, Angel, I still think you should move into town or at least—”
“You’re absolutely right.”
“Or at least—what? I’m right?” He stopped abruptly, and she stumbled over his feet.
“Yes. I’ve been thinking a lot about everything, and I agree with you. So I’ve decided to take a room at the boarding house.” She didn’t dare tell him the real reason she was moving into town—to get a job at the saloon. He’d be furious and try to stop her. Even though he’d know soon enough, she wasn’t about to tell him now. That meant she couldn’t tell him about the baby. Yet.
“Thank goodness. It’s about time you came to your senses.”
She bristled at the comment but hid her annoyance behind a forced smile. “You’re right.”
They danced silently until the music stopped. He walked her off the floor, keeping his hand on her elbow. Was he being gentlemanly—or staking his claim? Only he knew.
“Are you going back to the cabin tonight?” he asked in a low voice.
“Yes.”
“I’ll take you home.”
Not a question, not asking permission, but an order. She didn’t protest. She knew, as well as he knew, where they’d end up—in her bed.
She shivered in anticipation.
****
The high overhead sun beamed down on her, sending beads of perspiration running down her neck. Angel halted in front of Nuttall and Mann’s saloon, took her handkerchief out of her pocket and wiped her face and neck. She checked her reflection in the side window. She’d spent hours trying to decide what to wear and had finally selected a dress of green silk with a green plaid jacket and matching hat. She hadn’t wanted to appear too demure, but neither had she wanted to be classified as a saloon-type, loose woman. She thought she’d captured just the right look.
She hesitated a moment, then opened the swinging door and walked into the room. A hush settled over the room. The piano player stopped playing. Even though it was still early in the afternoon, the saloon teemed with patrons. Men stood at the bar while others sat at the card tables or lined up at the blackjack and roulette tables. Two women scowled at her from the other side of the room. Quickly, she scanned the faces staring at her. Grayson wasn’t there.
“Hey, lady, you can’t come in here,” the bartender shouted.
“Now, don’t be too hasty, Sam,” one of the men said as he shot her an admiring glance. “Come on in, little lady.”
She sauntered toward the bar. Two men moved aside leaving her a space. She stepped up to the bar and faced the barkeeper with much more bravado than she felt. “I’m already in, and I’d like to see the owner, please.”
“What for?”
She fixed her sternest frown on him. “That’s between him and me. Is he here?”
The man tried to stare her down, but she didn’t bat an eyelash. He wiped his hands on his dirty apron. “I’ll see. What’s your name?”
“Angel Devereaux.”
He stared at her a moment longer before he stalked over to a side door, opened it and disappeared from sight. The elderly man beside her cleared his throat and acted like he wanted to speak to her, but when she looked at him, he averted his gaze. The men at the tables returned to their play, and the piano player resumed the lively tune he had been playing.
In a few moments, the bartender returned. “Mr. Mann’s in his office. You can go in—all the way to the back.”
“Thank you.” Her heart racing, she walked over to the side door and opened it. A narrow hallway lay before her. She picked up the hem of her skirt and walked down the corridor until she saw another door. Quickly, she rapped on it—before she lost her nerve.
“Come in.”
Act like you’ve done this before, Angel. You’ve got to act the part. She opened the door and marched in—right up to the big desk in the center of the room. The man behind the desk rose to his feet.
“Are you Mr. Mann?”
“I am.”
“My name is Angel Devereaux, and I’m here to ask for a job.”
“A job?”
“Yes. I’m the best blackjack dealer and poker player on the Mississippi.” She stuck her hand out, and he shook it.
“Mighty big claim there, missy.” He picked up a smoking cigar from an ashtray on his desk and stuck it in his mouth.
She grinned at him. “Yes, it is, and I can back up every word.”
He didn’t return her grin, but she thought she saw a twinkle in his eye. “Have a seat, Miss Devereaux.”
“Thank you, Mr. Mann.” She sat in the chair he indicated and smoothed her skirt.
“I’ve heard about
you. You’re Jake Plummer’s gal, ain’t you?”
“Yes, I am. How did you know that?”
“Jake used to come in here once in a while, and you look just like him.”
She nodded. Was that a compliment? She took it as one and smiled. “Thank you.”
“And where would a lady like you have learned to be the best blackjack and poker player on the Mississippi?” He sat down, took the cigar from his mouth and blew a puff of smoke into the air.
“The Delta Princess.”
“Huh?”
“A riverboat. My grandfather owns it. I grew up on it, and I know every riverboat gambler on the Mississippi. I learned from the best.”
“I don’t really need another dealer.”
She was ready for him. “Sure you do. We can set up another table and double your money.”
That interested him.
“Or,” she continued, “when the other dealer is working, I can set up a poker game. Any winnings, I keep twenty percent—you get eighty percent.”
That interested him.
“That’s a pretty low percentage for you.” He took another drag on his cigar.
“I always win a lot,” she retorted.
“Well, I’ll have to think on it and—”
She jumped to her feet. “Sorry, Mr. Mann. I need an answer now. A girl needs to make a living, you know, and since my father’s claim isn’t worth very much, I need a job—and soon.”
“Well, I don’t know. I don’t know how the men will take to a female dealer.”
“Okay. I’ll head down to the other saloons and see if they need anyone.” She smiled sweetly at him and turned to go. “Thanks for your time. I appreciate your seeing me.”
“Wait a minute, young lady. I admire your spunk, but it’s quite different out here than back east.”
“Gambling is gambling, Mr. Mann, and men are men. No matter where they are.”
He laughed. “Okay, okay, I think you can take care of yourself, young lady. You’re hired.”
She’d called his bluff—and won. “Thanks. You won’t regret it.”
“Well, what say we give it a month or so and see how it goes?”
“Deal.” She leaned over and again shook his hand. “But, just so you know, I only deal cards. Nothing else.”
He didn’t pretend not to know what she was talking about. She liked that. “Agreed.”
“Good. When do I start?”
“Saturday afternoon.”
“Fine. I’ll be here.”
****
Saturday afternoon, Angel arrived at the saloon early. Mr. Mann introduced her to Sam, the bartender, Rick, the other dealer, and the two women she’d seen before—Lillie and Rose. “I told the girls that you won’t be horning in on their territory, so they won’t bother you.”
“Good.”
“I’ve set up two blackjack tables across the room from each other. Rick has the table nearest the bar, so you can have the other.”
“Thanks. You won’t regret hiring me.” She grabbed the cards and shuffled them. Dressed in a form-fitting blue gown with a matching feather in her hair, she drew admiring glances from everyone. Would Thaddeus Grayson walk in and play at her table? If so, what would she say to him?
Slowly, the saloon filled with men. Townspeople, as well as shoulder-stooped miners and bowlegged cowboys from outlying ranches lined the bars and gaming tables. Their first reaction to seeing Angel was mouths agape, followed by “Well, I’ll be damned” or “Pinch me, I must be dreaming.” They made a beeline for her table. Within minutes, she had them wrapped around her little finger. The money poured in, and she could see Carl Mann grinning happily. From across the room, Rick grinned at her and mouthed the words “unfair advantage.”
The swinging doors parted, and Wild Bill Hickok sauntered into the room. Dressed as fastidiously as he had been at the dance, his long chestnut hair gleamed. When he saw her, he strolled over to her table. “Miss Devereaux, what a surprise to see you here.”
“I know, but I have to make a living somehow.”
“Quite true. You’re looking very…beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“Maybe I’ll have to try my hand at blackjack soon.”
“I hope you will.”
He touched the brim of his hat, then took a seat at one of the poker tables.
“Place your bets, gents,” she told the men at her table.
“Why, Angel, it is you.”
She glanced up and saw Chad standing there. “Hello, Chad.”
The young man whistled under his breath. “Pete told me he seen you in here, but I didn’t believe him.”
“Well, now you know. I work here now.” She smiled at him. “A girl’s got to make a living somehow, and I can’t sew or teach school or do any of that stuff.”
“Evan ain’t gonna like it.” Chad’s mouth tugged down into a frown. “He ain’t gonna like it one bit.”
She straightened her shoulders and notched her chin up. “I don’t care if he likes it or not. He has no say-so over me or what I do.”
The lad walked off, muttering under his breath. She smiled at the men at her table. “Now, where were we?”
Despite her resolve to not think about Evan and what he’d do when he saw her in the saloon, she found herself watching the door like a hawk, her stomach in knots.
Evan didn’t appear, but Thaddeus Grayson did. She saw him stop and study the new setup. To her dismay, he strolled over to Rick’s table and claimed a seat. She told herself to be patient.
About nine o’clock, she took a break. She made her way to a small room which Mr. Mann said she could use. She went to the bath room, then sat down and slipped her shoes off. She wasn’t used to standing for such a long time, and her feet ached. She considered going over to Rick’s table to try to get an introduction to Grayson but decided to bide her time. That would be too obvious, and she mustn’t make him suspicious in any way. If she didn’t make any headway in the next couple of weeks, then she’d approach him.
Her time up, she checked her reflection in the mirror, then pinched her cheeks to add some color. As she stood at the door, she scanned the saloon’s patrons. Chad and Pete sat at the poker table where Wild Bill presided like a king over his subjects. Thaddeus was still at Rick’s table. Several men waited at her table. She smiled at them.
One of the men turned and looked up, and she stared into the angry eyes of Evan Montgomery.
Unnerved, she tripped on the hem of her dress and almost fell. Somehow, she recovered and proceeded across the floor. She mustn’t let his presence, and his disapproval, deter her from her mission. Somehow, someway, she had to block out her feelings for him.
She walked up to the table and picked up a fresh deck of cards. She didn’t look at Evan. “Okay, gents, step right up and place your bets. Angel is my name, and blackjack is my game.”
Still without looking at Evan, she dealt the cards. His disapproval settled over her like a dark cloud. She turned to the first man. “What’ll it be?”
“Hit me.”
She dealt him another card.
“Again.”
Again, she tossed him another card. “Busted. Sorry.”
Down the line it went until it was Evan’s time. “And you, sir?”
“I’ll take a card.”
She turned over the queen of spades, then turned his next card up. The ace of spades. “We have a winner.”
“What a surprise,” Evan muttered. “I don’t usually win when the treacherous queen of spades is involved.”
Angel knew he was referring to her. “Well, it looks like tonight’s your lucky night.”
“I don’t think so.” With an angry glare, he picked up his winnings and sauntered off to the bar. It was a miracle she could hold back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. But somehow she pasted a smile on her face and continued.
It was long after midnight when the last customer staggered out of the saloon. She and Rick took thei
r cash trays to Carl Mann’s office.
“Great night,” he congratulated them. “Haven’t had such a good night in a long time. I’m glad I hired you. Rick says you’re a great dealer. Sharp as a razor’s edge.”
She smiled at Rick. “Thanks, and—” Turning back to Mr. Mann, she added, “I’m an even better poker player. You just wait and see.”
“Well, this week, stick to the blackjack tables. We’re not too busy during the week. Next Saturday, I’ll give you a poker table.”
“That’s great. Well, my dogs are killing me. I’m ready for bed.”
“All right. Rick, why don’t you walk Angel to her…where are you staying anyway? Out to the cabin?”
“No. I’ve moved into the boarding house.”
“Good idea.”
“But I’ll be all right—”
“No, I’ll walk you over there,” Rick insisted. “It’s too dangerous for a beautiful woman, or any woman for that matter, to be alone on the streets of Deadwood at night.”
“Okay, thanks.” Together they left out the back door and walked around the saloon to Main Street and to the boarding house.
“You did great tonight, Angel. You had those guys eating out of your hands,” Rick said with a grin. “Unfair advantage.”
She glanced at him to see if he was serious. His grin told her he was teasing. “I’ll admit I was really nervous.”
“I was quite surprised when Carl told me who the new dealer was.”
“Well, I didn’t come to Deadwood for that purpose...” She paused a moment, wondering how much to tell him. “I came to find my father—”
“Yeah, so I heard. Sorry about him…you know.”
“Thanks, Rick, and since I can’t mine his claim, I’ll probably sell it and return to New Orleans. But until then…I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. There’s enough people in Deadwood to keep a hundred saloons filled, and more coming every day.” He yawned. “Well, here we are. I’ll wait until you’re inside.”
“Thanks.” At the door, she turned and waved at him. He nodded at her, then disappeared down the dark street. She walked into the boarding house and climbed the stairs to her room. She pulled her key from her reticule and unlocked her door, then walked inside. The room was dark, and she inched forward into the pitch black room and bumped into the bed. A curse escaped her lips. She tossed her coat and purse onto the bed, then felt for the lamp.
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