Diamond Duo

by Marcia Gruver

  “Hold up there, partner. I think there’s been a mistake.”

  His arms still stretched around his winnings, Thad blinked at the man’s scowling face. “What mistake? You all folded, and two kings beats two jacks last time I checked.”

  Fingers still locked on Thad’s arm, the cigar smoker glared at Darius. “Well, I reckon there’s some sort of a mix-up. Right, Thedford?”

  Darius went on shuffling with his quicksilver hands then slid the deck toward Thad. “Son, I believe it’s your deal.”

  The angry man stood to his feet. “I asked you a question, Thedford.”

  Darius shrugged and leaned back. “I suppose everyone’s luck runs out after a while, Billy.” He scooted to the edge of his chair and calmly scooped up the money. No one made a sound while he counted and stacked the coins. Then he reached for Thad’s neckerchief and tied the money into a wad. “Let the kid take his winnings, Billy. He won them fair and square.”

  Billy’s brows met in the middle. “Oh, I follow now. You and the tadpole struck a bargain of your own.” He leaned over the table, shifty eyes bouncing from Thad to Darius. “But I got news. Nobody cuts Billy Eddy out of a deal.” With a furious roar, he shoved over the table, sending cards and money flying. Thad and Darius leaped out of their chairs, and Darius backed away from the swarming men, one hand held up as a shield.

  “Now, Billy, you know I’d sooner kiss a rattler than cross you boys.”

  Thad spun and shot Darius a fierce look. It all made sense. Thad hadn’t been an angler’s fish. He’d been a swindler’s pigeon. Darius Thedford was a crook. A crook burdened with a sore conscience, but a crook nonetheless. He’d brought Thad to this saloon to double-cross him.

  Thad wasn’t about to risk his neck for the no-’count cheat. He snatched up his travel bag and inched toward the exit.

  The gamblers, intent on a pound of Darius’s flesh, didn’t notice.

  When Thad’s groping hand connected with the swinging doors, he eased out and quick-stepped to the corner then ducked down the alley. He picked up speed as he neared the back of the building, but his mind lingered inside on the bandanna filled with lost money.

  Why hadn’t he listened to his mama?

  Why? Because insufferable arrogance had tripped him up, and temptation had brought him on down. Darius’s challenge had pinned Thad to the wall by his own weakness. He’d really thought he could use his skill at cards to fleece those men but found himself stripped of wool instead.

  “Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall. Better it is to be of an humble spirit with the lowly, than to divide the spoil with the proud.”

  The words from the Bible rocked inside his mind. In his case, pride had brought such a great fall that there would be no spoil to divide. He lowered his head before the eternal truth of God’s Word.

  Forgive me for the sin of pride. And for gambling when I know it’s wrong. I’ll try and do better next time.

  If not for the need to hurry, he’d slip to his knees and say a proper prayer. Under the circumstances, his whispered plea would have to do. He’d be sure to thank his mama for her wise counsel when he got home–and apologize for not heeding it.

  The burden inside him lifted as the wall beside him exploded. He jerked around in time to see Darius soar from a boarded-up window. His body landed and rolled with the grace of a dancer, and he wound up on his feet next to Thad.

  “Let’s see how fast you can run, boy. Follow me.”

  The same two words had gotten him in this fix to start with, but Thad had little time to consider the wisdom of following. The band of gamblers fired two shots from the window behind him then scrambled through the opening shouting curses. Thad burst out of the alley on Darius’s heels.

  They thundered down the narrow passageway behind the row of buildings, turned into the back door of a livery stable, and came out the front. Then up the boardwalk a ways, weaving between disgruntled pedestrians, before turning down a side street just past the mercantile.

  By then, Thad couldn’t tell where he was going or where he’d been. The rest of their escape passed in a blur of shops and startled faces–until they ran to the end of a block, cut across a field, and wound up in front of the train depot. Darius wheeled to a stop near the ticket window and bent over, panting to catch his breath. Thad dropped his bag and leaned against the wall, breathing hard.

  Darius recovered enough to speak and rose up grinning, his lips pulling the edges of his handlebar mustache into twin peaks. “A close one, my boy. We gave them the slip, though, didn’t we?”

  Thad glowered. “I get the feeling you’ve had plenty of practice.”

  Darius reddened and glanced away. Still, Thad had little pity to offer the man. He’d left his compassion in a dingy saloon tied up in a worn bandanna.

  Still clutching his side, Thad straightened and looked around. A big Texas & Pacific passenger train loomed on the tracks beside them, boarding travelers of every description. Thad frowned at Darius. “What are we doing here? I don’t expect they’re giving away tickets today.”

  His wide grin back in place, Darius held up the knotted kerchief. “You didn’t think I’d leave without this, did you? Go on. Take it.”

  Thad shook his head. “It’s not mine.”

  Darius dangled it closer. “Why, sure it is.”

  Thad pushed his hand away. “I didn’t win that money. You cheated those men out of it.”

  Darius raised his brows. “I just cheated enough to get back your investment. Since I took it by cheating to start with, I figure that makes it all right.”

  Thad gritted his teeth. He didn’t want any part of the stolen money, especially Billy Eddy’s or the other men’s tainted loot. He reckoned he deserved to lose his portion for going against his parents’ advice. “I’m telling you, I don’t want it.”

  Darius shook his arm. “Come now, Thad. How else will you get to school?”

  When Thad didn’t answer, Darius grunted and pushed him out of the way. He stepped up to the ticket window, spoke to the smiling man behind the bars then slid a few dollars under the window. Before he walked away, he paused and asked the agent for a pen. Using the protruding ledge as a desk, he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, scribbled on it, then stashed it again. He returned to Thad, picked up his hand, and slapped the ticket into his palm. “Take this, at least. It’s your passage to Bryan.”

  When Thad didn’t close his hand, Darius folded his fingers for him. “Thad, even a mule knows when to quit being stubborn.”

  Thad lifted his gaze to the man’s earnest face and grinned. “Thank you.”

  The conductor for the noon train headed their way shouting the last chance to board. Darius placed his hand on Thad’s shoulder. “You’re a fine young man. I envy the direction you’ve chosen for your life and regret any action on my part to hinder you. I pray you’ll forgive me.”

  Thad searched his eyes and found true sorrow there. He gave a little nod.

  “And, son,” Darius whispered, “my mama tried to sway me from gambling, too. I only wish I’d listened.”

  Thad laughed aloud, and Darius pounded him on the back. “Time to get on that train, unless you plan to chase it.”

  Wiping the dust off on his trousers first, Thad held out his hand.

  Darius winked and gave it a hearty shake. “Wait right here. I’ll get your things.” He took two sliding steps to the wall, returned with the travel bag, and laced the strap over Thad’s arm.

  Thad shifted the weight of it and tucked his arm around the middle. “Thank you, sir.”

  Darius gave the bag a thoughtful pat. “It’s the least I could do, son. Good luck to you.”

  “I appreciate it, Darius, but I rely on a Power more dependable than luck.” He ducked his head then lifted a sheepish grin. “Well, most days, at least. I’m sorry my actions didn’t bear witness of Him.” He gripped Darius’s shoulder and held his gaze, wanting to say more, to tell him the Power he depended on was
a better way.

  The last whistle blew beside them, the haunting blast so loud they both jumped. Darius beamed, lifting the edges of his mustache again. “Better go, son.”

  Thad returned his smile then ran for the open door of the passenger car. Handing over his ticket, he hopped aboard just as the wheels began to turn. He lumbered down the aisle, found an empty seat, and eased into it.

  Darius shouted his name, and Thad leaned out to find him trotting alongside the train waving a folded piece of paper. When he saw Thad, he picked up his pace and ran up next to the window. “Here! Take this before I change my mind.”

  “What is it?”

  Darius tucked the document into Thad’s outstretched hand. “Maybe a worthless waste of ink, but maybe enough to soothe my sore conscience and settle our score.”

  “There’s nothing left to settle.”

  He grinned and stopped running, cupping his hands to shout, “Let’s just say I have a lot to atone for.”

  Thad thrust it at him, but Darius had fallen too far behind and didn’t seem inclined to take it back. He lifted his hand in a mock salute and turned away. Thad stared after him until the track curved and he could no longer see the platform.

  Puzzled, he settled against the seat, unfolded the paper, and tried to make sense of what he had. At the bottom, a name had been crossed out and Darius’s penciled above it. Then Darius’s name was struck through and Thad’s printed on top. His eyes lit on the word “property” then the word “deed,” and his breath caught in his throat. He leaned out the window, as if Darius might still be there to explain.

  Why would Darius give it to him? He said it might be worthless, so he’d never seen the property, which meant he’d likely won it playing cards.

  Thad held it in a shaft of light to read the small print. The official sounding words described a parcel of Texas land in a place called Humble, somewhere north of Houston. Was it really his? From the look of it, after a trip to the courthouse to record the deed, it would belong to him, worthless or not.

  Could he accept such a valuable gift? A gift Darius won at poker, no less? A better question, how would he go about giving it back?

  Didn’t the Bible say the wealth of the sinner was laid up for the just? Well, he hadn’t behaved very justly by disobeying his parents and risking Papa’s money in a game of chance. But God also promised to forgive a man’s transgressions when he asked.

  He hauled his bag from under the seat and undid the loop from the button holding it shut. Pulling aside a stack of trousers and his long johns, he tucked the deed beneath them. When the pile of clothes fell back, a flash of color in the opposite corner caught his eye. Heart racing, he pulled the red bandanna from its hiding place, untied it, and counted out the coins. They totaled every dollar of the money he’d lost playing cards, less the price of his ticket south.

  Darius.

  Another scripture, this one from the book of Romans, drifted through Thad’s mind.

  “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have enter-tained angels unawares.”

  Did he really believe Darius Thedford, a cigar-smoking, card-cheating dandy was an angel? Hardly. But God had used the man to teach Thad a valuable lesson and even turned to good what had been a very bad offense on his part. He lifted a prayer of thanksgiving then tacked on a plea on Darius’s behalf. Thad wondered if he’d ever see the man again.

  Lost in thought, he jumped like a frog when the train whistle blew at a crossing. Grinning, he patted the bag still clutched in his hands and thought about the deed inside. In His mercy and grace, the Lord had chosen not only to forgive Thad but to bless him right out of his socks.

  Monday, January 22

  Bertha laid her needlework aside. A good thing, really, considering the mess she’d made of it. Tiny stitches were hard to see with tears in her eyes.

  She sat with her mama in the parlor, a basket of sewing between them–Bertha huddled in a corner of the settee, Mama perched in a straight-backed Windsor chair. The fireplace crackled beside them but did nothing to warm Bertha’s heart.

  She raised her head and met Mama’s sorrowful gaze. “Stop watching me, please. I’m all right.”

  Her mama flushed. “How did you know with your chin on your knees?”

  “I feel your eyes on me like twin brands. They’ve seared holes in my head.”

  Mama poked her needle into her pincushion. “Well, you don’t seem all right to me, dear. You hardly touched your dinner, even after sleeping straight through breakfast.”

  Bertha grimaced. “I wasn’t sleeping. Hardly slept all night.” She rubbed her midriff, fighting tears. “And food makes the ache worse.”

  Mama winced and ducked her head. She’d tiptoed around the house since yesterday morning, shamefaced and apologetic. “Try to drink something, then. Let me steep you a cup of chamomile tea. It’ll ease your stomach and relax you.”

  Bertha stood, her bleary eyes going to the window again. She couldn’t stop searching the lane for Thad, though she knew he was long gone.

  “Gone, I must be gone. . . .” The words sounded so final.

  She moved behind Mama’s chair and patted her shoulders. “I know you mean well, but tea won’t help. Nothing short of Thad’s return will make me feel better.”

  Reaching back, Mama squeezed her hand. “I’m responsible for all of this. Can you ever forgive me?”

  A catch rose in Bertha’s throat. “There’s nothing to forgive. I know you didn’t realize how much it meant. I would’ve told you, but–”

  She paused so long that Mama twisted around to look. “But what?”

  “You’ll think me fresh.”

  Mama waved her hand. “You go right ahead and speak your mind.”

  “It’s just that you’re so different now. I don’t remember you ever apologizing to me before.” She gave a nervous laugh. “Or allowing me to speak my mind, for that matter. If you’d been like this that night. . .” She couldn’t finish. The boldness of her words sealed her tongue to the roof of her mouth.

  Mama sighed. “You’re free to say it. It’s only right that I hear what I’ve done to you.”

  Bertha pressed the backs of her fingers to her mouth. “I can’t,” she whispered when she could speak.

  Mama took her wrist and guided her around in front of the chair. “Let me say it for you. If I’d been approachable, as I am now, you’d have come to me, told me about Annie and Thad, and together we’d have worked things out. But I was rigid and inconsiderate instead, and I failed you.” Her voice broke on the last three words.

  Bertha knelt and pressed her forehead to Mama’s calico-covered knee. “It doesn’t matter. Please don’t cry.”

  With a trembling finger, Mama lifted Bertha’s chin. “It matters. So I ask you again. Will you forgive me?”

  Despite the fact they belonged to her mama, Bertha stared into warm, caring eyes she’d never seen before. “Of course I will.”

  Bertha rose up and fell into the first real hug she could remember them sharing.

  When they parted, both smiling and wiping their eyes, she stole a long look at her mama’s serene face while Mama fished a hankie from her waist pocket. Drying her cheeks, she shifted her gaze to Bertha. “Now you’re staring.”

  Bertha giggled. “I’ve been wondering what Papa did to, well. . .”

  “To change me?”

  Speechless, she nodded.

  “Simple. He threw the Bible at me.”

  Bertha clutched her lace collar. Throwing the Holy Book seemed extreme, even for her feisty papa. Mama tittered and waved her hankie. “Not literally, dear. He merely pointed out the scriptures directing a wife to submit to her husband and a husband to love his wife.” Her eyes lost focus. “Funny how a verse can be right under your nose, or in this case right before your eyes, yet you can’t see it. I must’ve read those passages a dozen times and never recognized it as the formula for happiness I’d been seeking.”

  Mama shook herself from her da
ze and motioned for Bertha to sit across from her. “So we struck a bargain.” She stared at the ceiling and smiled, as if reliving the moment. “Francis promised abundant affection from here on out if I promised to honor his place in our home.” Her slender white throat worked with emotion. “That silly man’s devotion is all I’ve ever wanted. I just never knew how to get it.”

  Bertha leaned forward, confused. “I don’t understand. Papa’s such a loving man.”

  Mama nodded and delicately blew her nose. “Of course you’d perceive him that way. Besides the fact he adores you, when I built a wall to shut him out, he still had you to lavish attention on. Your father confessed that he’s longed to show me the same love, but my rigid insecurity and lack of respect held him back.”

  She glanced at Bertha with grief-stricken eyes. “I shut you out, too. I don’t know how I allowed it to happen. Now we’ve lost so much time.”

  Bertha rushed to embrace her. “Just think. We’ll have a fresh start. It’s never too late for love, you know.”

  Mama caressed her cheek. “Bless you, daughter.” She kissed her then held her at arm’s length. “And that’s what you must remember about your Thad. It’s never too late for love.”

  Bertha straightened and peered at the window again. “I do hope you’re right. But we have a long wait to prove it. Thad won’t be home for months.”

  “You’ll see him soon. He’ll come back to Jefferson on breaks and holidays. The time will pass quickly–you’ll see.”

  Bertha stood, hoisting her basket and the frock she’d been hemming to her hip. “May I be excused? I can’t sit in this house moping for another second.” She walked around and rested her hand on Mama’s shoulder. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to ride into town to try to see Annie. I left her in such a terrible state.”

  Mama took Bertha’s basket from her hands and placed it on a side table. “I hate to see you go into town alone. Wait and let Papa take you.”

  “I don’t need to trouble him.”

  A stirring at the door caught their attention. “When in time have you caused me a mite of trouble, me girl?” Papa boomed. “I’ve a matter or three to see to in town meself. Let me fetch an overcoat, and we’ll be off.”