by Joni Keever
Manipulating the game hadn’t been easy, but Kade had seen to it that No Neck continued winning while he and Fancy Pants won only enough to stay in the contest. He’d put his skills to the test while making a show of drinking several shots of whiskey. He knew his limit. He was careful not to let his objective get away from him. Tiny, on the other hand, drank so much during the course of the evening, Kade was beginning to think he’d pass out before the game ended.
With a shrug, Kade folded his cards and placed them face down on the table. He watched as the other two gamblers laid out their spreads. Fancy Pants grinned slowly, pulling the pile of winnings toward himself. Tiny grumbled loudly and barked his order for yet another bottle. The frail form beside the giant shuddered every time he yelled out. Kade fought to control the anger blazing within him. He took the deck and began to deal.
A gleam formed in Tiny’s eye as he viewed his cards, and Kade inhaled steadily. He turned his attention to the other man.
The gambler blew sweet-smelling smoke toward the ceiling. “I might as well go out in grand fashion. I’ll open with thirty.” He placed the crisp currency in the center of the table, then folded his cards together, lacing his fingers around them.
Kade smiled inwardly. The man always did that when he had a fairly good hand, as if he worried someone would see right through his cards. Kade turned to Tiny. He had been easy to figure. He chortled, tapped his cards on the table, and licked his lips when he thought his hand was a winner.
“I’ll see and raise. Twenty more.” He slapped the bills down and sat back heavily in his chair.
Without a word, Kade placed his money on the pile and focused on Fancy Pants, deck poised.
The proper gambler added his bills to meet the raise. “Two of your best,” he requested, exchanging a pair from his hand for the new arrivals from Kade.
“Jest one fer ol’ Tiny.” He tossed the offender to the table and forced himself to retrieve the next card slowly.
“Dealer takes two.” Kade dealt to himself and placed the remaining deck on the table. He turned to the man on his left.
“Fifty dollars, gentlemen.”
Tiny grinned at his companions. “Let’s jest make that an even hunnerd.” The pile grew higher.
Motionless, Kade stared at Tiny until the big man began to squirm. He watched him lick his lips, then wipe the bubbly trail of saliva on his shirtsleeve. He laughed uncomfortably, looking from one gambler to the other. Fancy Pants broke the silence.
“That’s one hundred dollars to you, friend.”
Kade’s gaze remained steady. No Neck took a swig from his decanter. Liquid courage, mused Kade, but oh so temporary. The big man studied him, then straightened in his chair.
“You scairt or what? I say put your acorns on the anvil, cowboy.” Pleased with himself, Tiny smiled broadly.
Without looking at the five cards resting on the table before him, Kade placed one hundred dollars on the pile of money. “I’ll see your one—”
“Ain’t you gonna check yer hand first?” Tiny asked incredulously, smile drooping.
Kade placed his remaining stack of bills in the center of the table. “And raise you—”
“Now just hold on . . . that’s over three hunnerd dollars!”
No Neck’s one eye grew round, and his chin dropped a notch. Kade remained stoic. “Four hundred sixty,” he clarified. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Fancy Pants fold his cards and toss them to the table. With a calm that bespoke years of winning—and losing—he sat back in his chair and pulled a square silver case from his breast pocket. After extracting a cigarette, the gambler tapped the end of it gently against the case and watched in amusement.
“Uh, now, this here is supposed to be a friendly game.” When the stranger neither responded nor moved, Tiny continued. “I ain’t got enough to call. Can’t you see out from under that there hat of yours?”
No Neck’s voice grew louder with each word, yet Kade remained impassive. Crimson color crept up and across the large man’s face. He tapped his cards on the table unconsciously. Finally Kade asked quietly, “What about your friend?” He dressed the last word in sarcasm. The filthy ragamuffin glanced up to see to whom Kade referred. He caught a glimpse of bright-green eyes in a dirt-smudged face before they disappeared beneath the hat brim once more.
“My friend? My friend ain’t got no money and . . .”
Kade watched realization dawn as Tiny understood he meant to win the waif from him.
“Now hold on jest a minute. You can’t . . . I mean . . .”
“You scairt?” Kade mimicked.
“Ain’t fer sale,” Tiny spit out.
“I’m not looking to buy.” Kade noticed a crowd gather, obviously interested in the outcome of the game. The filthy youth squirmed uncomfortably in the chair. Clothes that would fit a man hung from the scrawny frame. Grimy, pale skin peeked through tattered holes. Raised red welts spoke of the earlier whipping. Stringy dirty hair stuck out from under an old hat.
Again Tiny scanned the crowded room. He seemed to be the center of attention . . . and he obviously didn’t like it. He peered at the cards in his hands, then at the man across the table.
“You’re bluffin’,” he grunted. Straightening himself, he let his greedy gaze drift to the small fortune in the center of the table.
“All right then—I call.” He slapped the pile of money with his heavy hand.
The crowd sucked in its collective breath, and Kade caught a second glimpse of scared green eyes. Licking his lips once more, Tiny left another slimy trail in his coarse red whiskers. With a deep laugh, he laid down his cards.
“Ladies and tens, cowboy. Where I come from, we call that a full house. I guess it jest ain’t yer night after all.” He sat back in his chair and crossed beefy arms over his wide chest.
All eyes pivoted to Kade. He sat perfectly still, staring at Tiny until the arrogant smile began to fade. The crowd shifted impatiently.
“Well, are you gonna show us what you got?” Tiny scanned the assembly for support. Several onlookers mumbled agreement.
Kade leaned forward. With deliberate ease, he withdrew two cards from his hand. “A pair of twos—”
The ogre laughed as he went for the money.
Kade reached into his hand once more. “And another pair of twos.”
No Neck stopped raking the winnings toward himself and stared at Kade with his bulging eye. Murmurs rose from the crowd.
“You cheatin’ sonofabitch!” roared Tiny as he bolted to his feet, reaching for his gun.
Before the one-eyed man stretched to his full height, Kade stood straight and tall with his six-shooter trained on the fat man’s protruding belly. Tiny froze mid-draw. His gaze left the gun barrel only to glare a demon’s dare.
“Don’t try it, mister. Live to play another day.” Kade’s quiet response didn’t reach the ears at the back of the crowd, but Tiny heard him clearly.
He glanced around the room at the ring of faces. Most had retreated several steps, and all looked fearful. Common sense should send them scrambling for safety from possible stray bullets, but the lack of sobriety and the hunger for excitement kept them vying for better views.
Jamming his gun back into its holster, Tiny muttered under his breath. “You’ll pay for this. I know you was a cheatin’. We all know it. Nobody cheats ol’ Tiny and gets away with it.”
Without breaking eye contact, Kade gathered the money from the table, his pistol still leveled at the larger man. He stuffed the bills into his pants’ pocket and waved the gun toward the wide-eyed youth.
“Shit,” Tiny spewed. He stood the terrified child up by the back of the neck and shoved.
Kade caught and held the prize in his free arm. His gun remained steady as the pair backed through the room toward the swinging doors. Once outside, he threw the reluctant youth atop a huge black stallion that stood tethered near the saloon entrance. In a single movement, he gathered the reins and leaped to the back of the mighty horse
. Bracing his companion between his arms, Kade wheeled the animal around and raced down the dusty street.
As he suspected, Tiny came blundering through the bar doors, cussing loudly and firing worthless shots at the fleeing pair. Kade figured the drunkard couldn’t hit a buffalo if he was standing nose to nose with one. But he didn’t want to risk it. He leaned forward over the horse’s neck, making a smaller target but nearly crushing his young passenger.
When they were well out of range and encompassed by the black of night, Kade straightened in the saddle. He slowed his horse to a less grueling pace and readjusted his position, allowing more space for his companion. Only then did he realize the little stray trembled like a leaf in the wind.
“Why are you scared? The worst is over.” He turned off the main road and headed south across the open land toward an outcropping of rock on the horizon.
“Wh-why did you do that? Win me from Tiny? What do you plan to do with me?”
The small voice quivered. Kade considered the questions a moment. He really hadn’t thought through what would happen after he rescued the lamb from the wolf. Damn! He had been so caught up in his own tormented memories, he’d let himself be driven by emotion rather than reason. What was he going to do? He had enough complications in his life right now; he certainly didn’t need another. Realizing he hadn’t answered the question, he cleared his throat and holstered the gun he still held.
“Where are you from? Where are your people?”
“I’m not from anywhere. My family is dead.”
“All of them? You have no one, nowhere to go?” Kade understood the hesitation that followed was suspicion, not contemplation.
“I, uh, have an old aunt in Marshall, Texas. At least I think I do. I haven’t heard of her in some time, and she was in poor health last I knew.”
Kade fought the urge to curse. He took the hat from his head and wiped a shirtsleeve across his brow. “Well, I guess we can stop in the next town and try to wire your aunt.” He gazed up at the full moon and realized the ragamuffin had quit shaking.
“You didn’t say . . . I mean, why did you win me from Tiny, if you don’t intend to keep me for yourself?”
After pondering the question, Kade finally answered. “I don’t really know. It was a stupid thing to do.” He envisioned a posse and perhaps soldiers the ruckus had surely roused riding after them. Then he envisioned Tiny.
He inhaled deeply and continued in a voice barely above a whisper. “No one deserves to be beaten . . . not even a skinny, scrawny scrap of a boy like yourself.”
Chapter Three
A boy? Carly’s mind reeled as she realized her rescuer thought she was a young man. A bubble of laughter rose in her throat and nearly escaped before she caught herself. She sobered, trying to remember just how long it had been since she felt like laughing. Pushing the question aside, she took a deep breath and tried to concentrate.
If he truly had mistaken her for a boy, that would explain why he wasn’t pawing her while searching for a makeshift bed. Carly wondered if she was being duped. The big hat and baggy clothes did hide her fairly well. Her size was similar to a lad’s, and the man had paid far more attention to Tiny during the evening than to her. Maybe he did believe what he said, and she could use the guise to her advantage.
When this stranger found out she was indeed a young woman, he would surely act just like Tiny. If he continued to think of her as a boy, perhaps Carly could save herself from any more pain. Perhaps she could climb from the pits of the hell she’d been thrust into. Perhaps she could go back to Virginia, where men were civilized and life was easy.
Carly thought of the man riding silently behind her. Had she known how the evening’s events would transpire, she’d have paid more attention to Tiny’s challenger. The few times she’d dared to peek from beneath her hat brim, she had noticed dark, unreadable features. Deeply tanned skin, broad shoulders, long and lean muscles, a predator’s build. He felt like a stone wall against her back, and she fought the urge to move away from him. He wasn’t holding her now. In fact, he seemed not to be aware of her at all. Carly didn’t want to alert him. With a slow deep breath, she tried to relax.
Why would a man like this choose to win a scrawny boy in a poker game? What could he possibly want with her? Carly had no answers. If nothing else, the last few days had taught her that she’d never understand why men acted the way they did. She just hoped she could continue with her newfound disguise long enough to get out of this predicament.
She had been so relieved to be delivered from the clutches of Tiny, she hadn’t stopped to wonder what fates awaited her at the hands of this new captor. Once the trapper took her to town, she had hoped for the opportunity to enlist the aid of a soldier. She’d heard of Senator James R. Doolittle, chairman of the Committee on Indian Affairs. She had followed the turbulent relations between the encroaching settlers and the savage natives as best she could until her abduction more than a week ago.
She could still see the face of the savage who had taken her, the crazy gleam in his eyes, the spat of disgust as he looked at her. Carly had to wonder, even if she could somehow speak with one of Doolittle’s men, would those “injun lovers” bother to help her? One of the individuals they were there to protect was initially responsible for her plight. Wouldn’t that be like admitting they were indeed the ruthless animals the white settlers reported them to be?
Though the night air felt warm, a shudder ripped through her. It gained the attention she’d hoped to avoid.
“You cold?” He fumbled behind himself and finally shook out a rolled wool blanket. Keeping one hand on the reins, he placed the covering about her shoulders, reaching around in front to gather the sides.
Carly jumped and then held her breath as his hand brushed her breast. But he didn’t seem to notice. He continued to guide his horse through the rocks and bush with a confidence that told Carly he must be familiar with the terrain.
The man went back to ignoring her, and she began to relax. Exhaustion tugged at her eyelids, and she knew she would lose this battle. Her last conscious thought came as a question.
Why had God placed her in the possession of this powerful, foreboding man?
#
Kade wondered how the lad could be chilled on such a hot night. Yet he barely gave the oddity a thought as he drifted back into his reverie. What in the world had he gotten himself into? He had no business saddling himself with this orphan. No business making an enemy of a man like Tiny. And certainly no business traipsing off to Marshall in search of some old biddy that may be dead. No, Kade’s business waited in another part of Texas. He had a score to settle and no idea how he’d gotten so sidetracked.
The pint-size passenger slumped backward against Kade’s chest. At least one of them would get some sleep. He wouldn’t feel comfortable until they reached a little cave he knew about, not too far from here. Men like Tiny didn’t take kindly to being cheated out of what was theirs. Kade couldn’t be sure the one-eyed giant wouldn’t try to follow them or enlist the aid of General Pope’s men to do so. Unlike Doolittle, who strove to bring peace to the Great Plains, John Pope rallied his men to war. Focused on the annihilation of the red man, the bloodthirsty soldiers were all too eager for battle of any kind now that the Civil War had ended.
Looking down at the boy, Kade started to remove the hat. He stopped, thinking the action might startle the lad. Best to let him sleep. No telling when his last good night was. Kade breathed deeply. The slim body resting against him lifted easily with the slight effort.
He wondered about the boy’s age. He seemed frail and fragile, even for a boy of fourteen years or so. Surely he was at least that. Such a child would never have been able to fend off a bully like Tiny. With no muscle, no weight, no height, he would be forever helpless . . . even when the pride and dignity within finally revolted as Kade knew it would.
The horse started up an incline as they arrived at the outcropping of rock. Kade gave the animal’s neck a pat, gr
ateful the black knew his way. The rider’s musings had left the horse to navigate alone. They wove through the jagged boulders to a stand of cedar that grew very near the rock wall. He used his body to protect his sleeping companion as they squeezed past. Both man and mammal had to lower their heads to enter the shallow cavern. The black stopped immediately, and Kade wondered if he should wake the boy.
Perhaps he could dismount without disturbing the lad. After all, the youngster hadn’t even stirred when they’d brushed through the cedar branches. If Kade woke him in the pitch-black of the cave, the child might be frightened and scream. Kade still wasn’t sure they hadn’t been trailed.
Bracing the slumped body with one hand, he swung his leg over and slid to the ground. He let the sleeping figure glide into his arms, then placed the boy on soft sand, near the rock wall. Moving across the small area, Kade felt the floor for the fire pit and dry wood he kept in stock. Soon he had a small blaze burning and the saddle off the black. Hoping the child would sleep awhile, Kade slipped quietly outside to cover the tracks they had made leading up to the hiding place. He watched for a time beneath the full moon. Nothing moved across the flat Kansas expanse they’d traveled. Confident they were safe for the time being, he returned to the cavern and his ward.
The fire had died to a bed of coals. Kade wouldn’t have lit the blaze at all save for the lad. The summer night warmed the small interior, but thick foliage blocked out all moonlight. He didn’t want the boy to wake in a dark and unfamiliar place.
Though the ceiling loomed high enough for the horse to stand, the walls sat fairly close together, narrowing quickly as the cavern deepened. The black had to stay near the opening. Kade usually slept in the soft sand where he had placed the child. That put about five or six feet between himself and the fire. Grumbling, he removed his hat and gun belt. He’d have to sleep between his companion and the glowing embers. He preferred to lie beneath the stars, with the night breeze to cool him. Already this orphan had managed to be a bother and a burden.