Bucking the Tiger (5 page)

“And you know how to handle yourself?”

Shifting so his hand drifted toward the gun holstered at his side, Caleb nodded once more. “That posse couldn't bring me in, so I think I should be able to handle watching over a faro game.”

Although Doc was close to smirking, he held back long enough to see how Donnelly would respond. Amazingly enough, the barkeep was nodding with more and more confidence. “I can only pay five dollars a shift to start. That goes for each of you.”

“And when the profits justify it, I hope the rate will go up accordingly?” Doc asked.

“If you bring in enough, I can raise the rates,” Donnelly agreed. “But I don't care how far we go back, I won't tolerate anything that makes my place look bad.”

“Of course,” Doc said. “And what about poker games? Will I be able to organize a few of those?”

“You'll need to use one of my dealers, but I do allow men to deal their own cards for friendly games. I got no problem with poker just so long as you kick back a piece of that action as well.” Donnelly leaned against the bar and stared both men dead in the eyes. “I ain't stupid, so don't treat me like a fool. You want to make a living playing cards, you best know that it ain't a life with any guarantees and it ain't the sort of place where friendship amounts to much.”

Doc extended a hand over the bar and said, “That's why I came to speak with you, Owen. You're someone I can learn from.”

“Save it until you been livin' that life awhile, John. Maybe by then, you'll curse me for letting you into this line of work.”

“I'm gambling every day I step outside,” Doc said. “I might as well start making some money off it.”

Finally, Donnelly's smile returned. “I suppose so. All right, then. You can set up at the table in the back over there. That way I can say I didn't see whatever bullshit you're trying to pull if some angry cowboys come my way looking to complain. It'll be open in a few hours.”

“That will give me some time to get situated. I truly appreciate this.”

Donnelly turned and walked off. The moment he started talking to one of his customers, he regained his cheery disposition and began telling loud jokes as if he were celebrating rather than working.

“And I do appreciate what you did,” Doc said without meeting Caleb's eyes. It took some effort, but Doc eventually looked at Caleb directly. “If you could act as lookout for a few days, that would be fine. After that, I should have gained enough trust for—”

“A few days, my ass,” Caleb interrupted. “You said we worked well together, so that's what we're going to do.”

“And here I thought you were bent out of shape about not heading to Denver.”

“Denver's not going anywhere,” Caleb replied. “And this place has potential. I can feel it.”

Doc chuckled and lifted his glass. “You've got good instincts. I've even thought of a few good ways for us to make even more than five dollars a shift.”

“Yeah. I've had a few ideas of my own.”

One of the few things Doc had brought with him from Dallas was his faro setup. The case was waiting for him at the stagecoach office, where it had been left when the driver finally headed off to Denver, and was small enough to have been missed by nearly everyone on that stage. Caleb didn't know how long the driver had waited or if he'd waited at all, but it seemed more than a little fortuitous that the one item was waiting for them when they checked for it at the station.

Since Donnelly provided a room for each of them at a sorry excuse for a boardinghouse not far from the Beehive, Caleb and Doc didn't need much money those first few days in Fort Griffin. Both of them quickly realized they were missing something very important to a professional gambler, however: a reputation.

Nobody knew Caleb from Adam and what little they knew about Doc revolved around the increasingly wild rumors that were coming out of Dallas. Reports had Doc doing everything from shooting a group of Indians full of holes to being chased down by the same posse Donnelly had mentioned.

Doc took it all in stride, denying whatever rumors he didn't like and embellishing a few that would help ease him into the gamblers' circles. The next few weeks passed fairly quietly as Doc and Caleb settled into the lives of sporting men. While Doc perfected his shuffle and card-handling skills, Caleb became acquainted with the people he considered to be his competition.

As he studied names and faces, Caleb kept on the lookout for one face in particular. It wasn't too long before he spotted that pretty face on Griffin Avenue.

“Lottie!” Caleb shouted. When he saw her glance his way, he waved at her and crossed the street.

She met him with open arms and quickly pressed her soft lips against his in a way that nearly stole all the breath from Caleb's lungs. Even after she'd ended the kiss, Lottie held him at arm's length as if she didn't want to let him go.

“If it isn't Caleb Wayfinder,” she said. “Aren't you a sight for sore eyes!”

“You remember my name?” Caleb asked, thinking back to if he'd introduced himself fully or not.

“I've been hearing about you and Doc Holliday. I've heard even more about the game you two run.”

“Hope you're not taking any losses because of it.”

Lottie nudged him with her elbow and stepped back so Caleb could get a full look at the way her black satin dress hugged her hips and wrapped around her body like a tangle of expensive sheets. “Doc may know his way around a card table, but I've got assets of my own.”

“That you do, Lottie. That you do.”

“Sorry I haven't tracked you down, but I didn't know you were going to stay in town after what happened the last time we met. Once I started hearing about you working at the Beehive, I found myself engaged in some business of my own.”

“Nothing dangerous, I hope.”

“Not too bad, but not too good either,” she said with a wink.

“Did they ever find the asshole who killed Earl?”

She shook her head and continued walking along the side of the street. The sun was on its way down, which marked the time of day that had started to become like dawn to Caleb and Doc. As with most other gamblers, it was the time when work started and the real customers started to show their faces. The last time Caleb had seen an actual sunrise was at the tail end of a forty-eight-hour-long poker game.

“Aren't you worried he might come back?” Caleb asked.

“He may or he may not.”

“If he does, you should have someone looking out for you.”

“Someone like you?” Lottie asked.

“Maybe.”

“I thought you had your hands full keeping Doc out of trouble.”

“Doc can handle himself,” Caleb said. “Besides, I'd much rather look at you than at him.”

She smiled at the compliment and then tucked it away with all the others she'd gotten during her walk down the street that evening. “You're sweet, Caleb, but I can take care of myself, too, you know.”

“All right then. Do you play poker?”

“Does the sun set in the west?”

“How about you come by the Beehive when it sets tomorrow?”

Lottie stopped so she could turn and square her shoulders to Caleb. Even though Caleb had thought about her more than once, he was still surprised by how good she looked just then. Every move she made was a show and every shift of her feet got the rest of her body wriggling in an almost sinful way.

“I had plans for tomorrow, but I'll see what I can do about canceling them,” she said.

“If there's anyone else you'd like to bring along, feel free.”

“The more, the merrier, huh?”

“That's the idea.”

“I'll try to make it, Caleb. I truly will. In the meantime, would you like to have a drink with me? I've got a bit of time before I need to open my table.”

It took every bit of strength that Caleb could muster for him to shake his head and say, “Not right now. There's some errands I need to run.”

“Picking up Doc's laundry?”

“If you're trying to get that invitation revoked, you're on the right path.”

She showed him a pouting lip before mouthing the words “I'm sorry.” After that, Lottie blew him a kiss and headed down Griffin Avenue toward the saloon where Caleb had first laid eyes on her.

After watching her go for as long as he could without actually following her, Caleb reminded himself of why he'd been out and about at that particular moment. Despite the more practical side of his brain nagging at him to move along, Caleb took another lingering glance in Lottie's direction and then put his nose back to the grindstone.

Although he'd been in Fort Griffin for a little while now, Caleb still didn't know the saloons by name. Even considering how often he made the rounds visiting each and every one of them, there were still too many for all of them to rank equally in his mind. If he picked a favorite other than his base of operations, he might be tempted to start taking some of the offers he'd been getting to work there and not the Beehive.

Also, not knowing those other places by name made it a whole lot easier to steal from them.

Caleb's first stop was a place he'd labeled Red in his mind simply because of the color of the walls inside. After nodding to several of the regulars, Caleb got a few dollars in hand and walked between the roulette wheel and a faro game. As he went from one to the other, he managed to snatch at least two chips off each table, pocket them, and then fuss about with placing a bet using his own money.

Most of the money he got was from careless gamblers, but the roulette spinner made the mistake of talking to a serving girl for a few seconds too long, which gave Caleb an opening he couldn't resist. Just to look like he belonged, Caleb placed a bet and actually won another couple of dollars before cashing in all his chips and moving on.

The next place he hit was an out-of-the-way shit hole at the west end of town. Caleb liked it because it was the first place a lot of cowboys saw when they were done turning over their cattle. Caleb stood at his favorite spot at the edge of a faro bank and waited.

Sure enough, it wasn't too long before two dirt-faced cowboys got on each other's bad side and started tossing obscenities back and forth. But short-tempered cowboys were harder to predict than the weather, and sooner rather than later, they were slapping each other on the back and laughing once more. Before they could get too close, Caleb tossed a log onto the dying fire by saying, “What did you just call him?”

“I didn't call him nothing,” one cowboy replied.

“Oh, you must have been talking to your friend again.”

“What?” the second cowboy snarled. “What the hell did you say to me?”

From there, it was a short road back to another fight. This time, it came to a few blows before either of the cowboys stopped to think about why they were even fighting. By that time, Caleb had used the distraction to help himself to a few dollars off the top of the banker's stack and made his way out the door.

“Too rough for me in here,” Caleb said as he left.

Even though he was still feeling lucky, Caleb went back to the Beehive and met up with Doc at a table near their faro spot.

“You make the rounds?” Doc asked.

Caleb's reply was emptying his pockets of over a hundred dollars in folded up or wadded bills. “I nearly got spotted at a few places.”

“It's my turn next, so I'll keep my eyes open.” Wincing, Doc hacked into his hand and tried to pass it off as if he were just clearing his throat. “If too many people are watching, we can lay off the skimming for a while. This was a good idea, by the way. I'm just surprised you came up with it.”

“Why? Because only you get to hatch every scheme we pull?”

“No,” Doc replied. “As a former saloon owner, I'd have thought you would have more loyalty to your fellow businessmen.”

“You don't seem to have any trouble stealing from other gamblers,” Caleb pointed out.

“Point well taken.”

“Besides, I learned my best lessons through making mistakes. These saloon owners will either get smarter or find another business they're better suited for.” After finishing counting up the money, Caleb added, “Looks like we've got enough to stake us both in our upcoming game.”

“A stake can never be too big. And we need to win big if we're going to make a name for ourselves. Otherwise, we won't get much farther than Fort Griffin.”

“Seems like we've already got a name around here.”

Doc nodded as he used one hand to hold a deck of cards and flip one from the top, to the bottom and back again. “Things are coming along, but that's only because of the small size of this place. Word travels quickly.”

When Doc fanned the cards onto the table, Caleb reached out and selected one. “That's not the only thing adding to what folks are saying. More than once, I've heard of an incident at a swimming hole when you were a boy.”

The shift on Doc's face was barely noticeable to the commoner's eye, but caught Caleb's attention like a flare from the sun. Oddly enough, the small coughing fit that followed slid right under Caleb's notice. “The only reason I mentioned that was to establish a foothold,” Doc said.

“A foothold in what?” Caleb asked as he showed the card he'd taken to be the five of diamonds.

After clearing his throat loudly, Doc fanned the cards once more and pointed to them. Caleb slipped his card in with the rest so Doc could gather them up and shuffle. “You saw the way Owen looked at me. He saw an invalid standing in front of him. A walking dead man. I needed to give him cause to think otherwise.”

“That's not the first time I've heard that story, Doc.” Once more, the cards were laid down and Caleb selected one. He flipped it over to once again show the five of diamonds. With another flip of his wrist, he produced another card he'd palmed and tossed it on top of the rest.

Doc nodded approvingly. “You're getting a lot better, but mechanics are just another tool of the trade. So is padding the truth from time to time in order to put certain people's minds at ease.” Shuffling the cards in three different ways before fanning them out as if he were putting on a show, Doc said, “There was a bit of trouble at a swimming hole back in Georgia. I barely even recall what happened, since it was so close to nothing at all and I wasn't more than a boy at the time. A few colored kids were flapping their gums and I was flapping mine even more. We scuffled as boys are known to do and I took it further than it should have gone.”

“You killed one of them?”

“Lord, no,” Doc replied with a subtle laugh. “I fired a shot over their heads, they ran off, and that was that. To be honest, I believe we ran into each other a few times after that and conducted ourselves with a bit more respect for one another, as boys are also known to do.”

“Yeah,” Caleb said as he skillfully palmed the five of diamonds while taking another card. He then showed the five and replaced the hidden card into the deck. “Waving a gun around will do that.”

As he laughed, Doc gazed down at the table wistfully. “I was sent off to live with an uncle after that and forgot about it. That is, I forgot until it came up again in various bloated forms of retelling. Since it seemed to garner some bit of respect from certain sorts of crowds, I stopped discouraging it. The way I see it, we're already well on our way to building a reputation that has nothing to do with exaggerated exploits from a dubious youth.”

“You're right about that. I ran into Lottie today and she accepted an invitation to our game. She accepted pretty quickly.”

“Was she where I told you she would be?”

Caleb nodded. “And at the time you said. Just like clockwork.”

“Good. The gambling circuit is tough to break into, but well worth the effort. You must show yourself to be wheat and not chaff.”

“A professional and not a sucker, you mean?”

Doc grinned and nodded. “Exactly. And once we're in the proper circles, my guess is that we won't have to track down that killer who crossed your path on our first day in this fine town.”