by Lori Wilde
“Then marry a woman with people smarts. She can handle that for you.” Granny Blue nodded like it was a solid plan.
Why was everyone trying to marry him off? He angled his head toward Ember, but she was tucking into her taco and pretending not to pay any attention to the get-me-out-of-this looks he was shooting her way. He supposed he deserved it for not backing her up when she was knocking that humming malarkey.
“I appreciate the advice,” he said, being polite.
“Well, then, take it. Get a good woman so you can get the damn job, and you can stay home where you belong.” Granny finally crunched into the chip.
Ranger let out a sigh and couldn’t believe how grateful he was when Fiona bumped him lightly on the shoulder and said, “Could you please give me a ride back to the church?”
The minute Ranger and Fiona left the house, Ember tracked down her parents and told them goodbye. Kissed the baby. Thanked Kaia and Ridge for entrusting her to be Ingrid’s godmother and got out of there as fast as she could.
It was just after four in the afternoon when she walked into the house, fed Samantha, and plopped down onto the couch. She loved her family with all her heart, but sometimes she longed for the freedom—and the proximity to a Starbucks—she’d had in San Antonio.
Then she remembered how lonely she used to get without her family close by, and erased thoughts of San Antonio from her mind. And speaking of her stupid mind, it was still reeling from her realization about the real reason why she had never even tried to kiss Ranger. Not even that night in college they’d gotten drunk and slept in the same bed together. In a tiny area, tucked deep inside her, she wanted to believe in soul mates and even more important, desperately wanted to believe that he was The One.
It was unsettling to say the least.
Her cell phone dinged, signaling that she’d gotten a text. Idly, she reached over and checked the message.
What the hell, Sparky?
Her pulse pounded. There was that never-fail telepathy thing she and Ranger had going on. She thought of him and poof, he texted.
??? Ember texted back.
Ranger: Don’t play dumb? I know U threw Fiona @ me. Knock it off. I’m not 1 of UR projects.
Ember: Who me?
Ranger texted an emoji of an upside down smiley face sticking out its tongue.
Ember: Pizza and Netflix 2night?
Immediately after she sent it, Ember cringed. Aria had recently informed her that Netflix and chill was a euphemism for a casual sexual hookup. God, she was getting old. Hopefully, Ranger was just as clueless as she was. Besides, pizza and Netflix wasn’t the same as Netflix and chill. But it was perilously close, and it did set up a certain image once you knew of the undercurrent meaning. Not that Ranger thought of her in that way. It was just awkward.
Ranger: Rain check? Rhett’s got women problems and he needs 2 talk.
Ember: Rhett needs 2 keep it in his pants.
Ranger: Undoubtedly.
Ember: Tomorrow nite?
Ranger: Poker with Luke Nielson. Wanna come?
Ember: Sure. Where & When
Ranger: Backroom. Chantilly’s 9 P.M.
Ember: Just like old times.
Ranger: Nothing ever changes with me & U.
He added a winking emoji.
Ember couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not. Her stomach dipped in a weird way. C U then.
Chapter 6
“Surprises are foolish things. The pleasure is not enhanced, and the inconvenience is often considerable.”
—Jane Austen, Emma
Ranger arrived at Chantilly’s Bar and Grill on Monday evening, surprised by the collection of folks mingling in the back room. Not the usual suspects with whom he and the mayor normally played poker.
The director of Perfect Buddies Animal Shelter, Angi Morgan, sat at the table shuffling cards. A few cards flew from her hands and scattered across the floor. Laughing, she scooped them up. “Oops. I’m not much of a card shark.”
Cardsharp, Ranger thought. Fish don’t play cards.
“You lost one.” Andre Johnson reached down to pick up the queen of hearts, which had floated underneath the table.
Andre was a thirtysomething science teacher at Cupid High. He also served on the board of directors for Pinyon Pines Ranch, a summer camp in the Davis Mountains for underprivileged city kids. Andre had once been one of those city kids, and he’d loved the Trans-Pecos so much he moved to Cupid after he graduated from the University of North Texas. Ranger knew him from the observatory’s stargazing parties, where the teacher often brought his young charges to learn about astronomy. Andre was well-respected and well-liked around Cupid, but poker was not his strong suit.
“Make that two,” said Spencer Greenwood from the other side of the table, and passed Angi a red Joker card. Spencer was a fun-loving, former minor league baseball player with a cowcatcher mustache. He ran an adult day care center in Marfa with his sister, Alice. While he’d once been a hell of a ballplayer, he didn’t know squat about poker.
“We don’t play Jokers Wild,” Ranger said kindly to Angi and hid his wince with an encouraging smile. Hey, she was learning. But he couldn’t help wondering what Luke was thinking inviting rank amateurs to poker night.
Ranger shot Luke a sidelong glance. He didn’t know Luke’s motivation, but clearly their host had something besides poker up his sleeve.
And where was Ember, by the way?
The game was supposed to start at nine, and it was five after. He was eager to get her opinion on the odd assembly of players. He was just about to text her when the door opened and she walked in with a gorgeous brunette following close behind her.
Who was this new woman?
Ranger craned his neck to get a good look at the newcomer and did a double take. That was Fiona Kelton?
Gone were Fiona’s heavy, dark-framed glasses. Her hair had been let loose from its ubiquitous bun, and it flowed silkily over her shoulders. She wore a red dress with a short skirt that he could tell had come straight from Ember’s closet, false eyelashes, and an abundance of makeup.
Andre and Spencer, who were both single, sat up straighter, sucked in their guts and smiled as if they’d won the lottery.
Ember paraded Fiona around the room like a show pony, introducing her to everyone, and instantly, Ranger knew what was up. His matchmaking best friend had given Fiona a makeover and was shopping her around for a mate, but why had she brought the prim church secretary to a backroom poker game?
Thickheaded much, Lockhart? Ember was still trying to hook him up with Fiona.
Ranger swallowed a groan. It was going to be a long night—amateur poker players, Ember playing matchmaker. Ugh. If he wasn’t in need of Luke’s endowment money, he’d cash in his chips and go home.
Luke rubbed his palms together as if pleased with the company, and waved Ember and Fiona to the two vacant spots at the table. “Grab yourselves something to drink and have a seat, ladies. We’re about to begin.”
Once Fiona and Ember had settled in at the table with beverages—water for Fiona, bottled tea for Ember—Luke mercifully took the deck away from card-mangling Angi and began shuffling them.
Ranger breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe they could play some real poker after all.
“You’re probably wondering why I invited this particular group to my weekly Monday night card game,” Luke said.
Finally, they were getting down to it. Ember’s bottom-line attitude was rubbing off on him.
“Four of you at this table are interested in my grandmother’s endowment money.” Luke glanced at Angi, Andre, Spencer, and Ranger. “And Ember’s here because she has her fingers on the pulse of the Trans-Pecos and she’s a natural connector, and Fiona . . .” Luke smiled at the church secretary. “Well, she’s our guest. Welcome to Monday night poker, Fiona.”
“Welcome Fiona!” Everyone said it so unanimously the room momentarily took on the feel of a twelve-step meeting.
It was a
bit strange having the church secretary at poker night, but it was a low-stakes game played for fun. Tonight, however, had a different flavor as Luke laid out what was quickly becoming a two-million-dollar stake.
“Rather than take four separate meetings where you all try to convince me that your cause deserves the money, I thought why not let you see who you’re up against and make your pitches all at once.” The cards made a smooth shuffling sound between Luke’s adept fingers as the players at the table sized each other up.
“Texas Hold ’Em. Nothing wild,” Luke said.
“Wait a minute.” Angi made a “time-out” sign with her hands. “This isn’t fair.”
“What’s not fair?” Luke dealt two cards facedown to each player.
“Ranger is a crackerjack poker player.” Angi tugged at her right earlobe, playing with the gold hoop earring nestled there. “He’ll mop the floor with the rest of us.”
“I’m not basing my decision on the winner of the poker game,” Luke said. “Rather on the strength of your pitches, your passion for your projects, and your powers of persuasion.”
“Oh.” Angi brightened. “In that case . . .” Angi met Ranger’s eyes with a steely gaze. “Eat my dust, Lockhart.”
Fiona giggled. It was a pretty sound, much like the high tinkling of wind chimes in the breeze, and Ranger smiled at her.
Fiona blushed.
Ember cleared her throat. Ahem.
All eyes went to Ember. She had that effect. When the woman spoke or even cleared her throat, people listened.
“Do you have something to add, Ember?” Luke asked.
“No. Proceed.”
She didn’t meet Ranger’s gaze, and he couldn’t shake the feeling his best friend was up to something besides the Fiona hookup. He searched her face, looking for her tells—the way she’d scratch her chin with her index finger when she was trying to make up her mind, or the way her left eye twitched when she was stressed, how she’d pull one corner of her bottom lip up between her teeth when she was holding back on saying something she wanted to blurt.
He saw none of her typical giveaways, but the fact that she wouldn’t look him in the eyes was “tell” enough. Hmm.
“Angi, would you like to start while we make our bets?” Luke asked.
“Absolutely.” Angi launched into her needs for the no-kill shelter at a breakneck clip, as if the faster she spoke the more likely she was to get the money. Her pitch was compelling and heart tugging. Her animal shelter was the only one in three counties. They were bursting at the seams. They needed to hire more workers, needed more kennels, more medicines, more everything.
Ranger loved animals, and he was ready to whip out his checkbook and write the shelter a big fat check right then and there, but if he did, would that look like he was trying to buy off the competition?
Instead, he eyed his cards, felt his chances of getting the money dwindling. How could stargazing compete with homeless animals?
On the plus side, he had pocket aces. Spades and diamonds. This hand was in the bag.
Angi kept up her pitch as they went around the table placing their bets. Ranger was cagey and only raised the pot a little. If he came on too strong out of the gate with this bunch of amateurs, they’d all fold.
Fiona raised his bet.
Surprised, Ranger grinned and met her bet with another modest raise.
Fiona glanced coyly at her two cards again and smiled a Mona Lisa smile. Raised again. Ooh, had he found a tell?
Spencer folded, but everyone else stayed in.
Once the bets were in, Luke dealt The Flop—three cards face up in the middle of the table that all the players would play off of. The cards in the middle of the table were: three of diamonds, three of hearts, ace of clubs.
Ranger had a full house, aces high!
When it was his turn to bet, he raised boldly and confidently, upping the ante to a sum that had Ember, Angi, and Andre quickly folding.
Leaving just Luke, Fiona, and Ranger.
“You know,” Ember said to Angi, “a wealthy client of mine who loves animals is ailing and she has to downsize. She owns a huge house with acres of ranch land not too far outside Alpine, and she really wants the place to go to someone who will love it the way she and her husband did before he passed away. She used to raise cocker spaniels and already has kennels sitting empty. You should call her.”
“What a sweet thought,” Angi said. “But the shelter has no money to purchase property, unless Luke decides to grant us the endowment.” Angi shot the mayor a hopeful look.
“Here’s the thing . . .” Ember made a steeple of her fingers. “She’s willing to donate the property as a charitable deduction if she approves of the cause.”
“Really?” Angi sank her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Tell me more.”
“Let’s not chat over the card game.” Ember led Angi off to a corner to continue their discussion.
“Connector.” Luke grinned. “Ember’s got it going on.”
Ranger followed Ember with his eyes, felt a helpless smile slide across his face. Ember did indeed have it going on, and he couldn’t help feeling she had just taken Angi out of contention for Luke’s endowment. God, how he loved that woman. Realizing he was slack-jawed with admiration, he shut his mouth before anyone noticed.
“Spencer,” Luke said. “Your turn to pitch. Why do you need the money?”
Spencer launched into his tale. More heartstrings tugged as he talked about his elderly clients who desperately needed someplace to go during the day while their loved ones worked. He wanted to extend the hours of his adult day care, but he couldn’t afford to hire more employees. He embellished and elaborated, provided details about specific situations. The man was a gifted storyteller. Ranger gave him that.
“Spence,” Ember piped up from across the room, “you know who’s looking for a new charity to support?”
“Who?” Spencer beamed at Ember as if she were his queen and he, her humble servant.
“Ridge,” Ember said.
“If Ridge is passing around money, why doesn’t Ranger just ask his brother to support his cause and leave Luke’s endowment to the rest of us?” Spencer grumbled.
“Family thing. You know how it is. Shouldn’t mix money and family. Tell you what, I’ll talk to Kaia and see if she can persuade Ridge to fund your expansion.”
Ember, Ember, Ember. You little firecracker. How had Ranger gotten so lucky to have her in his corner? The stars must have aligned on the night he was born. Not that he believed in astrology, but he’d done something right at some point to entice this fetching woman’s undying loyalty.
“You’d do that?” Spencer’s eyes widened like the Queen of England had just knighted him. Hell, Ranger certainly understood that sentiment. He felt that way every time Ember walked into the room.
“Consider it done.” Her smile was as magical as a famous amusement park in Florida.
“You’re straight up awesome, Ember. Thank you.” Spencer bobbed his head.
Luke sent Ranger a weighted look and said, “Now for The Turn.” Luke laid down the fourth card beside the other three in the middle of the table.
Five of hearts.
It did nothing for Ranger’s hand, but he didn’t need it. He had a full house, aces high. He was going to win. It would take a mighty hand to beat him.
Fiona raised.
Luke folded.
Ranger studied Fiona with new respect. With the cards on the table, she probably had a straight, but who would have stayed in during the first round with a two-four split? Was it beginner’s luck? Or was she so green she didn’t know not to play to an inside straight? Or, and this was what made him sit up and take notice, was she so confident in her abilities to bluff, she was just going for it.
You had to watch out for the quiet ones. He knew that because he was a quiet one. Quiet ones were always thinking.
Ranger met Fiona’s raise and kicked up the ante.
Fiona checked.<
br />
One more card left to turn over. No matter what it was, the woman barely stood a chance against his aces high full house.
Luke laid the fifth and final card in the middle of the table with the other four. The three of spades.
Ranger studied Fiona’s face, but she was as stony as the Davis Mountains. Could the woman possibly have four of a kind? He calculated the odds in his head. Slim chance. Very slim that she had four of a kind.
Did he fold or take the gamble?
Go big or go home, right?
He pushed his stack of chips into the middle of the table, kept his gaze trained on Fiona, delighted to have found some real competition here tonight. “All in.”
“You have pocket aces,” Fiona guessed. It wasn’t wild conjecture considering how he’d been betting; not for someone with a working knowledge of the game. With a ghost of a smile, Fiona pushed her chips all in to join his.
A sick feeling washed over Ranger. They weren’t playing for money, but he couldn’t help feeling like he was losing something important. He hadn’t been knocked out in the first hand of a poker game since he’d started playing with his dad when he was no more than eight or nine. Poker was the one and only way he and Duke had bonded.
And before Fiona even turned over her cards, Ranger knew with nauseating certainty what he was going to see.
“Four of a kind,” Fiona called out joyfully, and raked the huge pile of chips toward her. “My four threes beat your ace high full house.”
Ranger grunted, sounded impressed, but looked gobsmacked. “Well played.”
Ember glanced up from her conversation with Angi and Spencer to see Ranger sitting at the poker table, mouth open, eyes wide. She’d never in her life known him to lose a hand when he went all in.
And he’d lost to Fiona of all people. Who knew the church secretary would turn out to be Matt Damon from Rounders?
Ember hopped to her feet, zoomed over to the table to see what she’d missed, feeling both proud of her protégé and protective of Ranger. What truly surprised her, however, was the way Ranger was looking at Fiona.