A Touch of Camelot

by Delynn Royer

  A sudden thought struck him and he reached down to scoop up his ruined coat. "That reminds me." He pulled something from an inside pocket. "This wouldn't happen to belong to you, would it?" He held up Arthur's slingshot.

  "Excalibur!" The boy snatched it from him. "You remembered Excalibur!"

  "You told me to take care of it, didn't you?"

  "I thought you left it on the train."

  Gwin interrupted their exchange. "And better that he should have. When are you going to give up that old thing?"

  Cole looked up to see her standing in the open doorway, and something in his chest constricted. She looked stunning. Her cheeks were flushed bright with color. She wore an emerald green dress that only heightened the dazzling color of her hair, and the neckline, an off-the-shoulder cut, revealed enough swelling, pale flesh to rivet any red-blooded man's attention. Cole's gaze lingered there before it rose again to meet her expectant gaze. She was waiting for him to say something, but his mouth had gone unaccountably dry.

  Luckily, Arthur spoke for him. "Gee, Gwinnie, you sure do look pretty."

  Gwin frowned at her little brother. "And what are you doing still in those old clothes? Didn't I tell you to—"

  "I did take a bath! I really did! Didn't I, Cole?"

  Gwin addressed Cole. "Why didn't you make him change those old stinking clothes? Do I have to see to everything?"

  Cole was still at a loss for words. "Well, I, uh ..."

  Gwin tossed up her hands. "Men!" She crossed the room and scooped up a pile of folded clothes from the night table, a white shirt, a brown coat, matching trousers, socks, and fresh underdrawers. She shoved the bundle at Arthur. "Now."

  "Aw, geez!"

  "Now."

  Arthur donned a tragic expression and craned his neck to look around her shoulder at Cole.

  Cole shrugged in reply to the boy's unspoken plea. "Don't look at me."

  "I thought we men were supposed to stick together," Arthur accused, accepting the bundle from Gwin.

  "Only on some things, kiddo."

  "You can change in the upstairs bedroom," Gwin said firmly.

  "These are sissy clothes," Arthur grumbled, but he apparently knew defeat when it was dealt. He was already moving for the door.

  When he was gone, Gwin turned back to Cole. Immediately, his attention was drawn back to the neckline of that dress. That dress ... The bodice hugged her tight all the way down to the enticing flare of her hips.

  "Well?" she asked, interrupting his thoughts.

  "Where did you get the money for all this?"

  "None of your business."

  Cole tried to read her eyes. Cool blue. Nothing there. In Cole's imagination, Monroe turned to rest one elbow on the back of his chair, wearing a sly smile. "Why don't you run along, son? The lady is in the middle of a game right now and doesn't want to be disturbed ..."

  "Does that mean you've got something to hide?" Cole asked, an irrational knot of anger tightening again in his gut.

  "Of course not. I just don't like your tone of voice."

  Cole clasped his hands behind his back and looked down at his feet. He silently counted to five before raising his head again. "All right, your ladyship. How about this? Please would you mind telling me how you managed to get your hands on so much money in so short a time?"

  "Now you're being condescending."

  "How much do you have left?"

  Gwin clutched her gloves and reticule tighter, hugging them to her stomach. "None of your business."

  "What's in the bag?"

  "Nothing."

  Cole took a step toward her. "What's in the bag, Gwin?"

  She took a step back. "Personal things. Woman things."

  "Don't lie to me. Let me see what's in there."

  "No."

  Cole reached for the reticule. Gwin jumped back. "Hey!"

  "How much do you have in there? Ten? Twenty? Fifty?"

  "I have enough for dinner."

  Cole held out his hand, wiggling his fingers expectantly. "Then, you shouldn't mind if I have a look, right?"

  Gwin didn't move to oblige, so Cole wrapped his fingers around the bag and tugged. Gwin tugged back. Trying to disengage that green silk bag from her stubborn fingers was like trying to pry fresh meat from an alligator's jaws, but Cole finally won their tug-of-war.

  Gwin bent to retrieve white gloves that had fallen to the floor in their scuffle. "You almost tore it. Do you have any idea how much I paid for that thing?"

  "Oh, I have an idea, all right." Cole loosened the drawstring and dumped the contents out onto a night table. A handful of silver and gold coins spilled out, two double eagles among them, a small perfume bottle, a silver pocket watch, a comb, a lace-edged handkerchief and... Cole picked up three walnut shells and a small round object. He dropped the shells and held the tiny ball up to the light. It looked like a cherry pit.

  "What... ?" he began, and it hit him. "Shell games? You were running shell games?"

  Gwin jerked on first one glove, then the other. "I don’t want to hear a word about it. It’s perfectly legal.”

  Cole started to laugh. He laughed so hard, he doubled over. "You've got to be joking! That's the oldest scam on earth."

  "I don't see what's so funny about it. It bought us all a nice set of clothes and it's going to put food in our mouths tonight."

  "Shell games!" Cole was hardly able to get the words out. For the last two days, Gwin had been out running shell games. He was so relieved, he didn't have the heart to be angry.

  "Cole Shepherd, stop laughing. What's wrong with you?"

  "Thimble-riggers!" Cole managed to get out between guffaws. "That's what we used to call you people. I'm surprised there are still folks around who will fall for those old tricks."

  Gwin sniffed. "There's a sucker born every minute. Besides, how stupid do you think I am? I let them win often enough."

  "Oh, I'll bet." Cole straightened, miming a fisherman casting his pole. "Just enough to reel them suckers in."

  "Ha! You think you're so darn smart. I'll just bet you would never fall for it, right?"

  "Oh, I don't know ..." Cole chuckled, finally gaining some control over himself. "Maybe if the girl running the game looked like you, even I might be tempted to—"

  "Tempted to what?"

  On impulse, Cole closed the distance between them. He gripped her by the shoulders and pulled her up against him. The subtle fragrance of spring-fresh lilacs assaulted his senses. "Never mind." He smiled down at her surprised expression. "By the way, did I happen to mention that you look—"

  Arthur shattered the moment. "Aw, geez! These pants are so stiff, I can hardly bend my legs."

  Startled, Gwin pulled away and turned to face her brother, who sulked in the open doorway. Cole took a discreet step back. Arthur was apparently too distracted by his own miserable situation to notice his sister's embarrassment.

  She recovered smoothly. "Now, that's more like it."

  Arthur scowled. "I don't want to go to any stupid old restaurant, anyway. Why can't we stay here for dinner like we did last night?"

  "Don't you dare complain." Gwin snatched a comb from the night table, crossed to him, and started running it through his tousled mop.

  "Hey, ouch! Ouch! Stop it!"

  She ignored his protests, concentrating instead on taming his wayward locks. "You need a haircut, too, but we'll just have to take care of that tomorrow. Tonight we're going to order us up a fine meal and enjoy ourselves. I think we deserve it after what we've been through, and then—"

  Cole interrupted pointedly. "We need to talk."

  Gwin continued as if she hadn't heard. "We need to figure a way to earn some more money. What I have now isn't going to get us very far."

  "Just how far are you planning to go?" Cole asked.

  Gwin bent to button the open collar of Arthur's shirt. "That is none of your concern."

  Arthur grimaced. "You're gagging me."

  "I can get money," Cole said. "I t
ried to tell you that before. I can wire the Agency."

  Gwin folded down Arthur's starched collar and turned briskly to cross the room. The elaborate ruffle of her dress whish-whooshed as she moved. "It's too late for that today."

  Cole approached her from behind and touched her shoulder. "Tomorrow, then. I can wire the Agency first thing in the morning."

  Gwin whirled around as if he'd stung her. "No! Not first thing in the morning. Not ever. You can't wire the Agency. Don't you understand?"

  "No. Why don't you explain it to me?"

  "Your precious Agency is what got us into trouble in the first place. Who do you think was behind that last attempt on our lives? Who else knew what train we were on?"

  "What are you trying to say? That someone at the Agency was in on this conspiracy?"

  "It sure does look like it."

  "That's preposterous."

  "Not so preposterous. Think about it."

  Cole eyed her thoughtfully. Oh, he knew that, from her point of view, it probably did appear that someone at the Agency was in on this mysterious conspiracy. Cole, however, knew that the idea wasn't only preposterous, it was virtually impossible.

  Even though this was not what the Agency would consider a high priority or secret assignment, the general rules of protocol concerning confidential communications would nevertheless be followed. Only Fritz, his secretary, and the old man himself, Allan Pinkerton, would be privy to any of Cole's telegraphed reports. The integrity of all these people was above reproach. Cole's theory was that the Agency was being used as a conduit for information. Unless Cole informed him differently, there would be no reason for Fritz to withhold information from the client who had hired them. There, most likely, was the leak.

  "All right." Cole knew it would do no good to reason with Gwin. "I’ll put off wiring the Agency for a while, but we have to find a way to support ourselves in the meantime."

  Gwin picked up a walnut shell and replaced it in her reticule. "As I was saying, there are a lot of gambling halls in this town, and after dinner, we can use what stake money we have left to—"

  "Wait! Hold it right there. Gambling? That's your big bright idea? Doesn't that amount to little more than leaving our fate to Lady Luck?"

  "Oh, not necessarily." Gwin swept the coins on the night table into her reticule.

  "No, you don't," Cole said firmly. "I'll go along with you on not wiring the Agency, but I will not abide anything dishonest. No stealing, no lying, no cheating."

  "Oh, for Pete's sake, Shepherd. Sometimes you're such a nitpicker. Doesn't it get tiring? Dragging that halo around with you everywhere you go?"

  "No stealing, no lying, no—"

  "All right, all right! I already figured you'd feel that way about it, so I came up with an idea."

  "An idea?"

  Gwin flashed a winsome smile. "Twenty-one."

  "Twenty-one what?"

  "The game. Have you ever played the game?"

  "Sure I've played the game."

  "Then you know that it's darn near impossible for the players to cheat, right?"

  Cole smirked. "Right, but if you're not planning on cheating, Gwin, my lovely, how can you be so sure we'll come out ahead and not lose our shirts instead?"

  "Oh, I just have this feeling ..." She turned slowly to focus on her little brother, who was busy prying his fingers into the opening at his collar and craning his neck.

  Cole followed her gaze. A silence fell over the room and Arthur looked at them with a frown. "What? What are you two staring at? Do I look that stupid?"

  "You don't look stupid at all, little brother," Gwin said sweetly.

  It was then that Gwin's strategy dawned on Cole. "You mean you're going to have Arthur ...?"

  Gwin crossed the room and patted her brother's arm affectionately. "Arthur, dear, you're going to learn a new game tonight. Cole and I will explain it to you over dinner."

  "This will never work," Cole said. "A kid in a gambling hall? They’ll never let him play."

  "But you and I will be doing the playing. Can't you see it?" Gwin's blue eyes sparkled as she warmed to her subject. She clasped her hands and crossed the room to stand before him. "It's just too perfect. We won't win every turn, of course, but if we keep our heads and play the odds, we can't lose over the long run. And it isn't cheating. Even you have to admit that, don't you?"

  Cole felt himself being swayed. After all, what could it hurt to humor her?

  "Well?" she prodded.

  "I don't know."

  "Cole, my darling, my handsome, suspicious Pinkerton man." She fingered the lapel of his coat and batted her lashes in an exaggerated fashion. "Trust me, and I'll show you a night on the town that you'll never forget. "

  Chapter Sixteen

  Cole stepped out onto the boardwalk and breathed in the crisp night air, a pleasant contrast to the smoke-filled gambling hall. He couldn't help smiling to himself. He had decided to trust Gwin and even he had to admit, they had done pretty well.

  Arthur tugged at his sleeve. "What's taking her so long?"

  "She's cashing in her chips," Cole said, "and she's got a whole lot of chips to cash in."

  Unimpressed, Arthur yawned and leaned against a nearby post, his arms folded, his eyelids hovering at half-mast. Cole sympathized. It was late for a kid his age to be up.

  Soon after leaving Doc Price's house, the three of them had dined at an outrageously expensive restaurant on C Street. Cole had been surprised to find himself relaxing and enjoying his meal. It was by unspoken agreement that they had left their differences outside the door. No one had mentioned San Francisco, the Agency, or the attempt on their lives.

  A pair of expensively dressed men pushed through the frosted glass door of the gambling hall, and Gwin slipped out after them, appearing at Cole's side, swinging her reticule. "Ready to go?"

  Cole nodded to Arthur, who appeared to be dozing. "We might have to carry him back."

  Gwin poked her brother's shoulder. "Come on, Sleeping Beauty, it's time to go."

  Arthur's eyes opened and he straightened. "Best news I've had all night."

  They ambled down the boardwalk. After a moment of companionable silence, Gwin turned to look up at Cole, her lovely blue eyes shining. "Cole Shepherd, bucking the tiger. If I hadn't seen it for myself, I wouldn't have believed it."

  Cole smiled tolerantly at this teasing reference to the fact that he'd tried his hand at the faro table. "Just don't go passing it around."

  "You liked it, didn't you? Admit it." Gwin stepped in front of him, stopping him in midstride. "You liked it."

  "Sure I liked it. Everyone likes it when they're winning. It's when they start losing that—"

  "There you go again."

  "Sorry, I guess it's just my nature." Cole shoved his hands into his pockets and started forward again. "A penny saved is a penny earned and all that."

  Gwin linked her arm with Cole's, matching his pace. "We made a good team tonight. Me, you, and Arthur. You have to admit that."

  Cole was about to reply when he realized they had neglected to turn onto E Street. "Hey, we missed our turn."

  "No, we didn't."

  Cole didn't miss the sly note in her voice. "What do you mean?"

  She squeezed his arm. "Don’t you think we've imposed on the Prices long enough?"

  "Yes, but—"

  "We've got plenty of money now."

  Cole stopped. "Wait a minute."

  "Hey!” Arthur complained.”What are we stopping for?"

  Cole ignored him. "What are you saying?"

  Gwin disengaged her arm from his. "I'm saying, we can afford to put ourselves up in a nice hotel for the night, and then..."

  "And then?"

  Gwin tossed up both hands, exasperated. "Oh, I don't know! Honestly, Shepherd, can't you ever do anything without planning two weeks ahead?"

  "Well ... I suppose I could if there was a good reason."

  "Ahhhh!" Gwin turned and headed briskly up the street.
r />   "Wait a minute. Slow down!" Cole trotted after her, ignoring the amused glances they drew from other pedestrians. "If you want to stay in a hotel, that's fine, but shouldn't we tell the Prices?"

  "I already told them."

  "You already told them? Hey, wait!" Cole called out as she picked up her pace.

  He came to a stop in the middle of the walk and nudged the brim of his derby back. She'd already told them? Plucky little gal, wasn't she? No surprise there. She had been raised to be plucky.

  Earlier, at the restaurant, Gwin and Arthur had amused Cole with tales of their past exploits and scrapes with the law.

  "Remember that time in Texas when those fellas almost strung poor Silas up?" Arthur had broached the subject around a mouthful of boiled potatoes.

  "What happened?" Cole shifted his gaze across the elegant table to Gwin. Her pale blue eyes were radiant with relaxed good humor and her hair glowed a soft, burnished hue in the candlelight.

  She took a sip of champagne. "They must have gotten a bad batch of hair tonic. Normally, it was harmless, but—"

  "It turned their heads blue!" Arthur cut in. "Holy crow, were those fellas ever mad."

  "It was more like a light shade of violet," Gwin corrected, setting her champagne glass down. "I still don’t understand what all the fuss was about. I'm sure it would have worn off in a couple days."

  Cole hid a smile behind his napkin.

  Gwin waved a dismissive hand. "That's no matter. We were traveling through west Texas. It was the kind of town where the marshal also happens to be the mayor as well as the judge, and whoever is leaning up against the bar that day is drafted for jury duty."

  "I've heard about places like that,” Cole said. “So, how did Silas get out of that one?"

  "Luckily, Emmaline and Clell saw trouble coming. Clell rode ahead to the next town to hire someone to impersonate a federal marshal."

  Cole laughed. "You can't be serious."

  "That big old federal marshal rode right up to the local lawman's office to inform the irate citizenry that Silas was wanted in Tarrant County on federal charges and that there was a generous reward for his return. He took down every blue-headed man's name, promised to wire the reward money, and they agreed to let Silas go."