Shadows Through Time

by Madeline Baker

  Distracted, she thought. Who wouldn’t be? “I’m fine.”

  With a shrug, he tossed a couple of greenbacks on the table, stood and grabbed his hat off the back of his chair.

  Kelsey followed him out of the dining room. What if she couldn’t find her way home? The thought of never seeing her family again filled her with despair. Her mother and her sisters were her best friends. Her brothers had teased and tormented her unmercifully when she was a little girl but they had redeemed themselves by looking out for her all through her teen years. Her father was a rock she could depend on, always there when she needed advice, or just a shoulder to cry on. And Nana Mary…those times when Kelsey couldn’t talk to anyone else, she could always confide in Nana Mary.

  “You don’t have to walk me back to the saloon,” Kelsey remarked.

  “Who said I was walking you back?”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To the saloon,” he said, grinning.

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “I left a hot poker game.”

  “Oh.”

  “It’s a good way to pass the time,” he said. “And it pays the bills.”

  “You gamble for a living?”

  “Among other things.”

  “What kinds of other things?”

  He shrugged. On occasion, he hired out his gun, but it wasn’t something he talked about. The fewer people who knew, the better, as far as he was concerned.

  “Well,” she said when they reached the Square Deal. “I hope you win.”

  “Obliged.” Winning was never a problem. He had the devil’s own luck where cards were concerned.

  He held the door for her, then made his way to his usual table in the back. Dropping into a chair, he watched Kelsey move from table to table while he waited for the dealer to shuffle the cards. He didn’t have to worry about Miss St. James anymore. She had a job and a place to stay. Too bad, he thought as he picked up his hand. Looking after her hadn’t been that much trouble.

  Chapter Four

  Kelsey closed and locked the door to her hotel room, lit the lamp on the dresser, then fell back on the bed. Her feet were killing her. She was used to walking and jogging, but she wasn’t used to being on her feet for eight hours a day. Right now, all she wanted to do was soak her feet in a tub of hot water. Only there wasn’t any hot water available at this time of night. Which meant she couldn’t soak her aching feet, she couldn’t wash her clothes, or, more importantly, her underwear and her socks and she couldn’t wash her face before she went to bed. She ran her tongue over her teeth and grimaced. What did people in the Old West do about brushing their teeth? And flossing?

  Maybe she should invent the toothbrush, if it hadn’t already been invented. And if it had been invented, maybe she could encourage her customers to use one. Most of the teeth she had seen tonight would benefit immensely from a good brushing. For some of the men, it was too late, they had no teeth left to brush.

  With a groan, she sat up. After removing her shoes, she peeled off her grimy socks and wiggled her toes. Say what you would about the so-called romance of the Old West, she wanted to go home, back to hot running water, flush toilets and washing machines. She was hungry and there was no upscale café on the corner where she could get a latte and a slice of chocolate cheesecake. Walking to the hotel earlier, the only places that had still been open were the two saloons. She didn’t know if the Red Queen served food, but the Square Deal didn’t offer anything in the way of food except for hard-boiled eggs.

  Rising, she took off her tee shirt and jeans and laid them over the back of the chair, hoping a little airing out would make them less offensive when she had to put them on again in the morning. She had a feeling she was going to be awfully tired of those clothes before she could afford to buy new ones. Tomorrow, before she went to work, she would search for the door to Nana Mary’s house again.

  Pausing on her way to the bed, she glanced out the window. A man stood on the boardwalk across the street. He lit a cigarette and in the brief faint glow of the match, she recognized T. K. Reese. She wondered what T. K. stood for and why he was against marriage. Maybe he’d had a bad one, too, she thought, and then shrugged. It didn’t matter what he thought about marriage or if he had ever been married. She had no intention of ever getting married again. Once was enough, thank you very much!

  Kelsey watched Reese cross the street toward the hotel. He moved with a lithe grace uncommon in most men of his size. There was a hard edge about him that should have frightened her. Instead, she found it oddly comforting, even a little sexy.

  As though sensing her gaze, he glanced up toward her window. She jerked backward, hoping he hadn’t seen her staring at him.

  Moments later, she heard the faint sound of his footsteps in the hall, a creak as he opened the door to his room.

  Feeling suddenly flushed, she put out the light and went to bed. Pulling the covers up to her chin, she stared into the darkness. Had he seen her at the window? She took a deep breath, willing her heart to stop pounding. She hadn’t done anything wrong, for crying out loud. There was no law against looking out the window.

  With a sigh, she closed her eyes. His image came swiftly to mind and followed her to sleep.

  * * * * *

  She woke to the clang, clang, clang of a blacksmith’s hammer and the rumble of a wagon rolling down the street. For a moment, she lay there with her eyes closed, hoping she was dreaming, hoping she would wake up in her own bed, in her own room, in her own time.

  After several moments, she sat up. Dream or not, she was hungry and she wanted food and a bath, not necessarily in that order.

  Dressing, she went downstairs. There was a different man behind the desk.

  “May I help you, miss?” he asked, trying not to stare at her outfit.

  “Yes, I’d like some hot water for a bath, please.”

  “Right away. Anything else?”

  “No, thank you.”

  Knowing it would take a while before her bath was ready, Kelsey went into the dining room for breakfast. She ordered ham and scrambled eggs and coffee, then sat back in her chair and perused her surroundings. A subdued blue print paper covered the walls. Blue and white curtains hung at the windows, matching cloths covered the tables. The chairs were oak with blue padded seats. A fireplace occupied one corner, there was a hat and coat rack near the front door. All things considered, she thought the room was rather cozy.

  She glanced furtively at the other customers, wondering what they would think if they knew she had come here from the future. A rather rotund man in a striped suit occupied the next table. A large suitcase sat on the floor beside him. A traveling salesman, perhaps? A middle-aged couple sat at a table near the window. He read a newspaper. She sipped a cup of coffee. Kelsey decided they had probably been married a long time, since they seemed to have nothing to say to each other. A man and a woman and a young girl sat at another table, their conversation lively.

  Kelsey ate quickly, then hurried upstairs to the bathroom. After locking the door, she undressed, then washed out her bra, panties, socks and tee shirt. She didn’t dare wash her jeans for fear they wouldn’t get dry in time for her to go to work.

  She spread her clothing out to dry, then stepped into the tub. Was there anything as relaxing as a hot bath? She wished fleetingly for some scented bubbles, her strawberry shampoo, her body lotion. And her toothbrush, of course.

  She lingered in the tub until the water turned cool, then, with the towel wrapped tightly around her, she gathered her clothes and ran down the corridor to her room. She spread her still wet garments in front of the open window, then climbed back into bed and took a nap.

  When she woke again, her tee shirt, underwear and socks were dry. After dressing, she left the hotel and went for a walk through the town to pass the time until she had to go to work. Pausing in front of Cosgrove’s Mercantile, she looked at the items in the window and then opened the door and entered the building.

  She wa
ndered up and down the aisles, amused at how inexpensive items like soap and sugar and flour were in this day and age. There were shelves stacked with bolts of cloth and toweling, a pile of shoes in assorted sizes, a jumbled display of men’s shirts and trousers, a rack of ladies’ ready-to-wear dresses. One of them, a green and white gingham with a square neck, short, puffy sleeves and a full skirt, caught her attention. Pulling it off the hanger, she held it up in front of her. It reminded her of a dress her mother used to wear when she went square dancing. The price tag said four dollars. Kelsey blew out a sigh. Might as well be four hundred, she thought irritably.

  She was putting the dress back on the hanger when a deep voice from behind her said,

  “You should buy it.”

  Kelsey’s heart fluttered strangely at the sound of his voice. Turning, she came face to face with Reese. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “I needed some papers.”

  “Papers?”

  “Cigarette papers.”

  “Oh, of course.” She had never known anyone who rolled their own cigarettes. Well, except for Serge in college, but he had smoked pot. She hung the dress back on the rack.

  “You really should buy it,” Reese said.

  “I can’t afford it,” she said bluntly.

  “I was headin’ over to the hotel for a cup of coffee. Wanna come along?”

  Kelsey nodded. With the current state of her finances, she couldn’t afford to turn down a free cup of coffee. Or anything else, for that matter.

  The waitress, Caro, hurried over to their table when she saw Reese. A blind man could have seen that the woman had the hots for the man, not that Kelsey could blame her. He was a twenty-four-carat hunk, after all. He ordered steak and potatoes, then looked at her.

  “I thought you just came for coffee?”

  He shrugged. “Changed my mind. What’ll you have?”

  Kelsey ordered a steak, too, medium rare, with biscuits and gravy and a slice of apple pie.

  Reese grinned at her when the waitress moved away from the table.

  “What’s so funny?” Kelsey asked.

  “You eat like a hard-rock miner.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “I can make you a loan, if you like.”

  It was tempting, but she shook her head. “No, thank you.” With any luck at all, she wouldn’t be here long enough to pay him back.

  “Suit yourself,” he said, “but the offer stands.”

  She wondered suddenly if he was really hungry or if it was just his way of buying her lunch without making it seem like charity. “Do you really earn a living gambling?”

  “Yep.”

  “Is it hard to learn?”

  “You thinkin’ of givin’ up servin’ drinks for playing cards?”

  “It probably pays more.”

  Reese laughed. “I’m sure even the losers make more than whatever old Pete is payin’ you.”

  “Could you teach me?”

  “To play poker?”

  She nodded.

  “Sure, but I can’t think of too many men in town who’d be willing to sit at a table with a woman. Hell, I doubt Pete would let you through the door if you weren’t workin’ for him.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why not? Decent women don’t frequent saloons.” A slow smile spread over his face. “Or wear breeches in town.”

  Kelsey blew out a sigh of exasperation. She had forgotten, for the moment, that she was back in the nineteenth century. Equal rights were unheard of in this time period. Except in large cities, women rarely worked outside the home. They were expected to dress and act like ladies, to please their husbands and raise their children and if they had any strong opinions, they were supposed to keep them to themselves. Of course, there had been exceptions, like Susan B. Anthony and other women like her who had spoken their minds and went against the mores of the day—strong, forceful women who had paved the way for their less outspoken sisters.

  “Well,” Kelsey said, “I’d like to learn anyway.” How hard could it be? Even though she had never played poker, she knew how to play pinochle and canasta and rummy.

  Reese shrugged. “Okay by me.”

  Their meal arrived then. Reese thanked Caro with a smile and a wink. He knew the waitress was hoping he would come courting, but it wasn’t going to happen. She was a decent sort and she deserved a man who stayed in one place, a man who didn’t have a price on his head.

  Kelsey was a nice girl, too. He watched her eat in wry amusement. For a little bit of a thing, she sure packed away the grub. He felt a sudden rush of desire when she licked a bit of gravy from her lower lip.

  Kelsey sat back in her chair, thinking she had never been so full in her whole life. When she had ordered a steak, she hadn’t expected it to be almost as big as her plate. Back home, a steak at a restaurant was usually measured in ounces, not pounds. Along with the steak, there had been enough mashed potatoes to feed a small army, along with a heap of green beans and the best biscuits and gravy she had ever tasted.

  Her eyes widened when the waitress delivered the pie. Kelsey looked at Reese and shook her head. “There’s no way I can eat that, too. Do you want it?”

  “Don’t tell me you’re full?” he exclaimed.

  She stuck that delightfully pink tongue out at him.

  Laughing, he pulled the pie plate toward him and took a bite. “It’s mighty good.”

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  “You tempt me,” he muttered.

  Kelsey stared at him, wondering if she had heard him right. “What did you say?”

  “Nothin’,” he said. “Forget it.”

  “Did you say what I thought you said?”

  “I don’t know,” he hedged. “Depends on what you think I said.”

  “Never mind.” It would be too embarrassing to repeat it, especially if he hadn’t said what she thought she’d heard.

  Reese finished the pie and drank the last of his coffee. “You about ready there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Were you serious about learning to play poker?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right, let’s go.”

  She followed him up the stairs to his room, stood by the door while he shrugged out of his coat, then pulled a deck of cards from the top drawer of the dresser.

  “Sit down,” he said, gesturing toward the bed.

  She sat on one side and he sat on the other.

  “All right,” he said, “we’re playing five-card-draw poker. The highest hand you can get is a royal flush, which is the ace, king, queen, jack and ten of any suit. Hearts, for instance. Next is a straight flush, which is any five cards of the same suit in sequence— three, four, five, six, seven. Next is four of a kind—four aces, four kings. A full house is three of a kind and a pair. A flush is five cards of the same suit in no particular order. A straight is any five cards in sequence. Then comes three of a kind, then two pair, then a pair. If no one at the table has anything, then whoever has the highest card wins the pot. You got that?”

  “I think so.”

  “Don’t worry about remembering it all. It’ll come to you as we play. Aces can be high or low. First thing we do is ante up.” Reaching into his pants pocket, he pulled out a wad of greenbacks and handed her half.

  “I guess gambling really is profitable,” she exclaimed softly.

  He tossed a dollar bill into the middle of the bed and she did the same.

  She watched him pick up the deck and shuffle the cards, noting the ease with which his long fingers manipulated the deck.

  He dealt a hand, then picked up his cards. “Now, you look at your cards and decide if you want to open. If you don’t want to open, you can pass, which leaves the decision to open to the next player, or you can fold.”

  Kelsey looked at her cards. They were different from any she had ever seen in that they had no numbers on them, just spots. She studied her hand. She had a pair of threes, a six, a four and the queen of hear
ts. It didn’t seem like a particularly good hand, but since she wasn’t playing with her own money, she tossed another dollar into the pot.

  Reese looked at his cards. “Raise you a dollar,” he said, and threw two dollars into the pot. “If you want to stay, you have to match my bid.”

  She placed another dollar in the pot.

  “All right now,” he said, “you can discard any cards you don’t want.”

  She tossed the six and the four into the middle of the bed, face down. Reese dealt her two new cards. She picked them up one at a time. A ten and the queen of spades.

  “Dealer takes three,” he said. “Now you bet again.”

  She added five dollars to the pot.

  Reese whistled softly. “You must have a good hand.”

  “It’ll cost you five dollars to find out,” she said with a sassy grin.

  “I’ll see your five and raise you five more.”

  “So I have to put another five in?”

  He nodded.

  Kelsey stared at him, wondering if he was bluffing.

  He stared back at her, his expression giving nothing away.

  “All right.” She added another five dollars to the pot. “What do you have?”

  He spread his cards out, face up. “Three jacks.”

  “I don’t remember. Does that beat two pair?”

  “Yes, ma’am, it surely does,” he said, and raked in the pot. “You game to try again?”

  She tossed a dollar into the pot. “You bet.”

  Chapter Five

  Kelsey crowed out loud when she finally won a hand—her four tens beating Reese’s full house.

  Reese smiled as she raked in the pot. With her cheeks flushed with victory and her eyes shining, she was prettier than a newborn filly.

  The chiming of the town clock drifted through the open window.

  “Three-thirty!” Kelsey exclaimed. “Where did the time go? I’ve got to go get ready for work.” She pushed the pile of greenbacks in front of her toward Reese, then stood up.

  Rising, Reese stretched his back and shoulders. She was a quick study. Another few lessons and she’d be a hell of a player—if she could just keep from grinning every time she had a good hand. Of course, the way her eyes sparkled with delight was a dead giveaway.