Gambling on Love

by Sandi Hampton

  “Oh, Evan, I love you too. I think I’ve loved you from the first moment I saw you.”

  “Good. Does that mean you’ll marry me?”

  “Well, our baby should have a father.”

  “What? You mean, you’re—?”

  She nodded. “Yep.”

  He let out a loud whoop. “Ohmigod, I can’t believe it. That’s, that’s wonderful.”

  “I’m glad you’re glad. To be completely honest, I didn’t know how you’d feel about a baby.”

  “I think it’s wonderful.” He put his hand on her stomach. “Do you feel all right?” A horrible thought struck him. “I didn’t hurt you when we were making love, did I?”

  “No. I’m fine.”

  “Angel, honey, we need to get married—right away. I don’t want any name-calling, and—”

  “No.” She held up her hand. “Not yet. Not until we find out about Grayson—and my father.”

  “Wait a minute. Surely you don’t intend to keep working at the saloon, especially not now—in your condition.”

  “Oh, yes, I do. Don’t forget you agreed to try it my way.” She wagged her finger at him.

  “But that’s before I knew you were having my baby.”

  “That doesn’t change anything.” She pushed his hand aside and tried to get up.

  He held her down. “Oh, yes, it does.”

  She relaxed in his arms. “Just a few weeks, Evan. That’s all I’m asking. If I can’t find anything out, I’ll quit.”

  He couldn’t ignore the pleading in her voice. “I know this means a lot to you.” He loved her and could deny her nothing. “You promise?”

  “I promise.”

  “Very well, but I’m going to have a man in that saloon every night.”

  “But—”

  “A different man each night so no one will notice. All dependable and loyal to me. Just to keep an eye on you. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.”

  A wry grin crossed his lips. “Wow. I’ve never won an argument with you so easily before.”

  “Don’t get used to it. Now come here, Mr. Montgomery. I want you again.”

  Chapter 16

  Three days later, Angel studied the men in the saloon from behind her cards. It was still early, and the saloon was almost empty. Shorty, one of Evan’s men, stood at the bar. Evan had been true to his word. One of his men was at the saloon every night. Men gradually filled the saloon, but the one face she wanted to see did not appear.

  A grin played around the corners of her mouth. Tonight would be different. If Grayson played blackjack tonight, it’d be at her table because Rick was home sick.

  A man she knew only as Max leered at her from across the room. Revulsion swept over her. She always felt he was undressing her with his eyes. She ignored him and glanced around the room. Bill Hickok, wearing a wistful gaze, sat alone at a corner table. He looked up, caught her gaze and smiled. Since she had no customers, she strolled over and sat beside him. He touched the brim of his hat. “You’re looking lovely as usual, Angel.”

  “Thank you, and you, sir, are looking a bit melancholy.”

  “I admit I am.” He stroked his mustache. “I was thinking of my dear wife Agnes.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t aware that you were married.”

  “Yes, for many years.”

  “Well, if you miss her so, why not go visit her?”

  “That is my intention if...” He clamped his lips tightly together.

  “If what?”

  “I should not trouble you, dear lady...”

  “Mr. Hickok, if there’s something I can do, just say the word. I’m sure Mrs. Hickok would be happy to see you.”

  “Do you believe in premonitions, my dear?”

  Memories of the times the owl had come to her floated through her mind. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

  He sighed. “I should not tell you this, but it is pressing heavily on my mind. I have a feeling that something is going to happen and that this may be my last camp.”

  She clutched her hand to her chest. “Oh my God, I sincerely hope you are wrong.”

  “Me too.”

  “You must not tempt fate, Mr. Hickok. You must leave Deadwood immediately.”

  He patted her hand. “Perhaps I shall. Do not worry your pretty head over me.”

  A shout from behind her caught her attention. Two of her now regular players waved at her. She smiled and nodded at them. From the corner of her eye, she saw Carl Mann frown. She rose to her feet and smiled at Hickok. “I have to go now. Please take care.”

  “I will—and thank you for listening to an old man.”

  “You’re hardly an old man.” She smiled and returned to her table.

  Less than an hour later, Thaddeus Grayson sauntered into the saloon. He scowled when he saw Rick’s vacant table. Instead of coming to her, he headed for the bar. Disappointment swept over her, and she nibbled on her bottom lip. Perhaps this was useless after all.

  But Grayson’s addiction soon got the best of him and minutes later he sat on the stool in front of her.

  A triumphant smile touched her lips, but she quickly hid it and reminded herself to proceed slowly. “Howdy, mister. Good luck to you. All right, gentlemen, place your bets.”

  He grumbled under his breath. He was certainly in a foul mood. She let him win the next few hands which put him in a decidedly better frame of mind. Hopefully a more talkative frame of mind. The pile of chips in front of him grew. The other men at the table walked away in disgust, leaving her full of guilt about cheating, but it was the perfect opportunity, and she couldn’t pass it by. With fake admiration, she smiled at him. “Wow. You’re a great player.”

  His chest swelled up like a banty rooster. “Yep. Blackjack’s my game.”

  “It certainly is. You’re one of the best I’ve seen. You’re Thaddeus Grayson, aren’t you?”

  “Why, yes. How did you know?”

  Stroke his ego, Angel. “Why, everyone knows you. You’re one of Deadwood’s most prestigious citizens. Everyone says you’re going to be our next mayor.”

  His chest expanded again. “Maybe, maybe. We’ll see.”

  “You look familiar to me, Mr. Grayson. Have we ever met before?”

  “No. I don’t think so. If any man ever met you, pretty lady, he’d definitely remember.”

  “You’re too kind, sir, but I—”

  “Deal the cards, young lady.”

  His brusque tone stilled her tongue, and she backed off. More questions might scare him off. “Right you are. Here we go.”

  The next three nights passed the same. Rick returned on the fourth night, but Thaddeus stayed at her table. He talked and kidded with her. While she was making progress, there was never an opportunity to be alone with him.

  On the fourth night, Grayson came in at the usual time and approached her table. Dressed immaculately as usual in an expensive suit, he sported a brocaded vest with a fancy watch fob. Her gaze centered on the ornate jade ring he wore on his pinkie finger.

  A vision floated before her eyes, and she slipped back in time. It was Christmas, and her mother was giving her father a gift. He opened it and took out a ring. Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind. “I had it made special for you, Jake. Do you like it?”

  “What’s the matter, Angel? You okay? You sure look mighty pale.”

  The man’s words jerked her back to the moment. “Oh, oh, nothing. Sorry.” She dealt the cards, but her hands shook. With great effort, she steadied them. She now had proof that Grayson was somehow involved in her father’s death.

  About midnight only two or three men remained in the saloon. The cowboy in the far corner appeared to be asleep—one of Evan’s ranch hands. Grayson didn’t appear to be in any hurry to leave, and she decided to take a chance and question him. “That’s a lovely ring you’ve got on, Mr. Grayson. It’s quite unusual.”

  “Wanna take a closer look?”

  “Yeah.”

  He slipped it off his finger and held it out
to her. She examined it. There, on the inside of the band, were the words “To my loving husband. I love you. Julia.” Her mother’s name. Another inscription that said husband. Proof that her parents had been married after all. She dropped the ring. When Grayson glanced sharply at her, she picked it up and handed it back to him. “It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen one like it. A family heirloom?”

  “Yes. My mother left it to me. God rest her soul.”

  You liar. It was my father’s ring. Did you kill my father for that ring? No—Evan killed my father, so how do you figure into this? She took a deep breath and calmed herself. She couldn’t fall apart now.

  After the saloon closed for the night, Rick walked her back to the boarding house. She could hardly wait to tell Evan what she’d found out.

  When they arrived at the boarding house, Rick paused. “Just a word of caution, Angel. Steer clear of Max Holman. He’s got his eye on you. Been spouting off at the mouth about you and him, making rude remarks.”

  “The guy gives me the creeps,” she confided, “and you can bet I’m on the lookout for him.”

  “Good. He wandered into town a few months ago. Ain’t got no job. This town attracts all sorts of scum. Don’t ever walk home by yourself.”

  “I won’t. Thanks, Rick.” With a wave at him, she entered the boarding house and hurried up the stairs to her room. She opened the door and stepped inside. Evan emerged from the shadows. She rushed into his arms. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Are you all right, honey? Rex told me you seemed upset.”

  “Oh, Evan, he had my father’s ring. I saw it.”

  “Whoa. Slow down.” He held her at arm’s length. “Take a deep breath. Who had what ring?”

  “Grayson. He had a ring on that my mother gave to my father one Christmas. I remember it clearly.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. I remember her saying that she’d had it made special for him. So it’s one of a kind. There’s even an inscription on the inside. I’m positive. So how did Grayson get it?”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “He could have lost it or bought it from Jake or—”

  “My father would not have sold that ring.”

  “Maybe Grayson grubstaked your father, or loaned him some money and Jake couldn’t pay him back, so he gave Thaddeus the ring until he could get some money together. There could be any number of reasons.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “You’re right, but combined with the wanted poster, I think it’s very suspicious.”

  “I agree. Listen, honey, I’ve got a confession to make. I had a friend of mine, a Pinkerton agent, look into the name on the wanted poster.” As she opened her mouth to protest, he held up his hand. “I heard from him today.”

  “But, Evan, you said you wouldn’t.”

  “I know, but we needed more information. Ben is a skilled investigator and knows every lawman this side of the Mississippi. I’m sure he made discreet inquiries.”

  “And did he find out anything?”

  “Sit down, honey.”

  She perched on the edge of the bed. He seemed reluctant to reveal the news. She swallowed the lump that suddenly appeared in her throat. “Evan, what’s the matter? Tell me.”

  He took a deep breath. “About ten years ago, Grayson, or Larson, was accused of murder. He and his gang killed a lot of people in bank holdups and train robberies down in Kansas and Nebraska. They never caught Larson, but they did catch his son, Bob Larson, Jr. He stood trial and was convicted and sent to prison—and died there. The gang left the area, and the authorities never recovered any of the stolen money.”

  “So Grayson is still a wanted man? We can go to the law—”

  He held up his hand. “There’s more. The only witness against young Larson was your father. He saw them murder two people. His testimony was what sent young Larson to prison. Both father and son swore revenge.”

  Stunned by the revelation, she clutched at her chest. Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure it would burst out of her chest. Her father had bravely testified against these evil people. Had it cost him his life? Was that why he’d left her and her mother? To protect them? “Then he must have killed my father out of revenge.” Then it hit her, and she stared at Evan. “But you killed my father. I don’t understand.”

  “Look, Angel, what if Larson, or Grayson as he calls himself, came to Deadwood and ran into your father strictly by accident? He could have decided to have his revenge. What if there was another person in that dark alley that night?”

  As she followed his line of reasoning, she nodded. “You mean someone else shot at my father and missed and that was the shots you heard?”

  “No, not at your father.” He spread his hands. “I think someone shot him, and Chad and I were so close to the alley that we thought we were being shot at. I remember thinking at the time that the angle of the bullets was all wrong. Even though I fired in the direction the shots came from, it just didn’t fit. I’m a pretty good shot, but I wondered how I could have shot someone I never saw or even heard. That would also explain why your father entrusted his deeds to me. He knew I didn’t shoot him.” He grabbed her hands. “Honey, I didn’t kill your father.”

  “Oh, thank God. I’m so glad. What you said makes sense, but how do we prove it was Grayson?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe we can go to the Citizens’ Committee and tell them what we know. The Army won’t do anything. Jenkins has got his hands full. Maybe I should question Grayson myself”—Evan’s voice hardened—“and persuade him to tell us where he was that night.”

  “But all we have is a theory. We don’t have any evidence.”

  “I think the Committee will listen to us though. They’re trying to make Deadwood a more law-abiding town to attract settlers. Besides, we do have the wanted poster.”

  “But it’s fifteen years old. Maybe we should hold off a few more days. Maybe I can get Grayson to talk.”

  “You haven’t been able to yet.”

  “Maybe if I mention Kansas to him, he’ll spook and play his next card.”

  “Dammit, honey, this isn’t a card game. It’s way too dangerous. It’s not just you now. You’ve got to think of the baby.”

  “Just another couple of weeks. Now that we know for sure who’s involved, I’ll definitely be more careful. I promise.”

  He smiled wryly at her. “I can see I’m in for a lot of trouble in our marriage. You’re going to do exactly what you want to do.”

  She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. “But you’ll never be bored, my love.”

  “I’ll probably go to an early grave though. Come here.” He pulled a small box from his pocket and handed it to her. “This is for you.”

  “For me? What is it?”

  “Open it.”

  She eased the lid off, then squealed in delight. The most beautiful sapphire ring she’d ever seen rested on black velvet. “Oh my God. Is it for me?”

  “You see anyone else here? Of course, it’s for you. I know you can’t wear it now, but I thought you’d like it for a wedding ring.”

  “I love it. Oh, Evan, thank you. You’re so sweet.” She plucked the ring from its velvet resting place and slipped it on her finger, then held out her hand. “It’s perfect. I’m going to sleep with it on tonight.”

  He laughed. “And I’d better let you get some rest.”

  “I’m too excited to sleep.”

  He walked over to the window and pushed the sash up. “Be sure and lock this window. Good night, my love.”

  She blew him a kiss and was reminded of the night on the riverboat when she’d escaped him. Thank God he’d followed her. She collapsed on the bed and stared at her ring.

  Chapter 17

  Two days later, as Angel strolled toward the saloon, she passed the newspaper office and glimpsed a calendar through the window. The date jumped out at her. August 2. It seemed like she’d lived in Deadwood for years instead of just a few months.

  Ahead, Mary
and two other of Deadwood’s respectable ladies walked toward her. One was Vera Grayson. The woman’s animosity seemed to reach out and touch her. But why? Had Thaddeus said something to her? Mary waved, but the other two women turned their heads, pretending they didn’t see her. Mary shot her an apologetic smile but kept pace with her companions.

  Angel told herself she didn’t care, but a small voice inside her head told her she lied. She notched her chin up and proceeded down Main Street. Her mission was more important than what those women, or anyone else, thought of her. She pushed open the doors of the saloon. A sound from a nearby tree stopped her in her tracks. The soft hoot of an owl.

  The hair rose on the back of her neck. Something was going to happen, something bad. She could feel it in her bones. As she walked inside, the butterflies in her stomach danced.

  Everything looked normal. The piano clanked its music out, barely audible over the loud hum of voices. Smoke clouded the air. Rick waved to her as she hurried to her table. Bill Hickok, dressed in his Prince Albert frock coat, lorded it over the men at his poker table. He caught her gaze, smiled and tipped his hat. She nodded in return. So he hadn’t listened to his premonition. She’d hoped he’d returned to his wife.

  As she surveyed the bar room, she frowned to herself. Carl Mann had assigned her to deal at Hickok’s table tonight but had evidently changed his mind. To her surprise, Bill was not at his usual table or in his customary seat. Rather, he sat facing the back of the saloon, his back to the door. Something she’d never seen him do. She recognized the other men at Hickok’s table. Charlie Rich sat next to the lawman while Carl Mann sat on the other side. Another man she knew only as Captain Massie made up the foursome.

  The swinging doors parted, and Evan strolled into the saloon. To her chagrin, Angel felt a rush of heat warm her cheeks. She lowered her gaze before anyone could see her ogling him. How obvious she must be. He walked over to the bar and ordered a beer.

  Some minutes later, Thaddeus Grayson entered the saloon. On wobbly legs, he staggered over to her table. Her jaw went slack, and she stared at him. She’d never seen him intoxicated before. Since she was still setting up her table, maybe this was the perfect time...“Good evening, Mr. Grayson.”