Whispers (34 page)

I leaned across the table. “May I see it?”

“
You understand numbers?” he asked, surprised.

“
I am a banker’s daughter.”

It appeared that was good enough for him. He nodded and gave me the book. I studied it for a moment, but it didn’t take me long to figure out why the previous owner had gambled the place away.

“
He owed,” I said. “He owed quite a bit. From the looks of it, he still does. I guess that would be you now. You owe.”

Sawyer scowled. “The hell I do.”

“
Evidently, he sold bits of the saloon to any takers that wanted some. Either you pay them their money or they get a share of your profits.”

“
It says that?”

I showed him the note written on the pages.

“
I knew it was too good to be true,” he said.

“
No, it’s not. When you open your doors, you’ll be making money hand over fist.”

“
I’ll need to.”

“
That brings me to something ...” I took a deep breath and plunged forward. “I have a proposition for you.”

“
I think we’re past that,” he said.

I ignored the baited words and the tone that made me feel hot inside. “I assume you’ll have gambling here?” I said.

“
Hell, I’m not opening a boardinghouse. It’s a saloon. Of course there’ll be gambling.”

I stiffened my back at his sarcasm and continued. “It may surprise you to hear this, but I know how to play cards.”

“
It won’t be pinochle played at the table.”

“
I realize that. Truth be told, my father was a gambler.”

“
Your father was a banker.”

“
And a gambler. A poor one, as luck would have it, but a gambler all the same.”

“
And you?”

“
I am very good.”

My voice made a strange hitch over the double meaning of my words, which did not occur to me until midsentence. Sawyer watched me with guarded interest.

“
I propose that you bank me into a game,” I said.

“
And why would I do that?”

“
Because I will split my winnings with you.”

“
Seems to me, that’s not one of your better propositions. I’m the only one risking anything.”

“
I know it seems that way, but I promise you, I won’t lose.”

Sawyer grinned. “Now there’s a bet I’d take. If I had a dollar for every man I’d heard say that one, I’d be richer than God.”

I chewed the inside of my lip, wondering what I could do to convince him.

“
You got something to put up for collateral?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I have only the clothes on my back.”

“
You willing to wager them?”

Just like that, the temperature in the room rose. The temperature of my blood went with it. Already hot, I felt like steam might rise from my skin at any moment.

“
Name the game.” My tone was not near so bold as my words, but his smile let me know the meaning was taken. I was playing with fire here and I liked it.

He leaned back in his chair, letting his gaze make a lazy voyage over my body. “I was down south in Texas not too long ago. Learned a game called Hold’em. Ever heard of it?”

I couldn’t have been more pleased. “Yes,” I said. “My father played with a banker from Robson, Texas, who taught him. I do know the game.”

And it was one I’d had an instant connection with. I understood the strategy and loved the excitement and challenge of it. Sawyer looked suitably impressed and I couldn’t help my triumphant smile. Spurred by the small victory, I grew bolder. Leaning across the table, I asked, “If I am wagering my clothing, what will you wager?”

“
Every goddamned thing I own,” he said softly.

I looked up, startled and jittery. Excited beyond the game at hand.

He sensed my tension and he smiled. My heart seemed to trip over itself at the look he gave me.

“
How about we each start with two dollars. We’ll see how you do?” he said.

He stood, went to the bar, and got a deck of cards from behind it. Then he poured two cups of coffee, added a splash of whiskey from the small flask he carried to his own and sugar to mine. I blinked with surprise when he set it before me.

“
Thank you.”

Before sitting down, Sawyer counted out some money and laid it on the table in two piles. He took a sip of his coffee and then slid one pile over to me.

“
We’ll play quarters,” he said.

I took the pile of coins, counted them, then stacked them neatly. Sawyer seemed amused by this, but I didn’t let it bother me. I knew I had his full attention now as I dealt us each two cards. He looked at his and threw a coin into the center of the table. I called and turned three cards face up. There was a king of hearts, a nine of hearts, and queen of spades. In my hand I had both the ace and ten of hearts. Sawyer bet once more and I called again. I turned the two of diamonds out and we bet again. The next card was the five of hearts. I fought to keep my face blank as I studied the cards. He barely glanced at them before tossing another coin in. This time I raised him. His brows shot up and he assessed his cards again. I took a sip of coffee, smiled when I tasted the sugar, and waited. He looked cool as the day was long, but I didn’t think he could beat my flush. He called my bet and I happily showed my hand. I’d beat his three kings.

His grin held a hint of surprise and a spark of admiration. I pushed the cards his way and scooped back my winnings. He shuffled and dealt and I won again. The third hand I bluffed him into folding.

As I reached for the winnings, he asked, “What’d you have?”

“
A winning hand, Captain.”

And with that I mixed my cards in with the others and waited for him to deal. I won that one too. He fished another couple of dollars out of his pocket and put them on the table. I relieved him of those as well.

“
Your daddy taught you?” he said when he called and I set down my three jacks to his two pair.

I nodded. “All of us. He so wanted to be good at the game, but his face was open. Always open.” I looked down, missing that. “My momma thought it scandalous that he had us playing cards at the kitchen table, but I think she liked it. She wasn’t very good, but she laughed a lot when we played. My grandma—now there was someone you didn’t want to play cards with. She was lucky too. The cards always came to her.”

By the end of my little speech tears were in my eyes and my throat was thick with emotion. “We thought if we played with Daddy, it would help him get better and he wouldn’t lose so much.”

“
Did it work?”

“
No. He didn’t have the mind for it.”

“
He was a banker.”

“
But he never understood odds, even in his investments. He always believed what he saw, not what made sense.”

He raised his brows at that. “And you?”

“
You have to ask?”

He smiled at me and shook his head. I counted my winnings and then split them into three piles.

“
Here is the two dollars you started me with. And here is half of my winnings.”

I’d come out two dollars to the black. He jangled the coins in his hand before pocketing them.

“
So,” I asked. “Will you bank me?”

“
Ella, I will bank you.”

I smiled, only realizing then how tense I’d been. A lot had depended on my winning his confidence. If Aiken came back now, I would not be so afraid he would force me into another situation like the mining camp.

“
I can balance your books, too,” I said.

He looked at the green ledger book and back at me. I didn’t have to prove anything to him there. He slid it across the table and I picked it up. I stood, aware that he watched every move I made with those Mississippi eyes of his. They sent chills down my spine and heat spiraling through my veins.

“
It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Captain,” I said.

He reached out and caught my wrist in his hand as I moved to step past him. I paused and looked at him questioningly. I thought he was as surprised by his reaching for me as I, though I couldn’t have said exactly why I thought that. I looked down at the place where his sun-browned fingers wrapped around my white skin. His thumb moved across the pulse that beat there and slowly he reeled me closer. I watched the colors in his eyes swirl and darken and I didn’t fight him.

When I was standing beside his chair, my legs bumping his thighs, he spoke.

“
It’s not going to be pretty down here, when it’s filled with miners and the likes.”

“
I know, Captain. I never expected it would be.”

“
A woman like you isn’t used to that.”

I faced him then. “I would rather see them over a card table than a bed.”

He stood and I stopped myself from backing up. Our shift in vantage points brought his body close to mine. I wondered if he could see the bravado of my words.

“
Maybe I’d rather see you in bed.”

I caught my breath but moved no other muscle. My silence became an invitation, though. He bent down and took my lips in a kiss that sent my pulse hammering against the thumb he had pressed to my wrist. I still clutched the ledger book and he took it from my unresisting fingers and set it on the table. In a movement as fluid as the needs dancing over my skin, he pulled my free hand up to his chest and settled it over his heart.

He ran his tongue over the softness of my bottom lip and I sighed, opening up to him. My response seemed to light him from within. He deepened the kiss and I breathed in his scent as his hands explored the contours of my back, the slope of my spine, the curve of my shoulders. He cupped my face, holding me while he made me dizzy with the sensation of his tongue against mine, my sugar coffee taste mingling with the whiskey on his breath. I made a sound in my throat that spoke of the havoc he wreaked on my emotions.

He moved from my mouth to my neck. I should have stopped him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. His roving hands found the roundness of my breasts and I sensed the coiled passion in him waiting to strike. I felt the point of no return rush at me from all sides and I was frightened by it. As if hearing my thoughts he pulled back and stared into my eyes.

“
Ella,” he breathed, inches from my mouth.

I looked at him, my eyes heavy with passion, my lips swollen and red from his kisses. He seemed to forget what he was going to say and he simply kissed me again and I was lost. I surrendered reason and gave myself over completely.

There was a loud pounding at the front door. Sawyer lifted his head and shouted, “We ain’t open.”

The knocking came again, hard and insistent. “The hell you ain’t. It’s Aiken. Open up.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

WITH each step down to the cellar, the darkness became more complete. Bill led them with the flashlight. Next came Gracie, with Reilly close behind. When they reached the bottom, they stood in a huddle, looking at the cramped space. It was no more than a fifteen-by-fifteen-foot area— nowhere near the length or width of the house. The floor and walls were concrete, spidered with cracks, but it looked dry, for the time being anyway.

“
Jonathan? Are you down here?” Bill called. Not a whisper of sound answered.

Shelves used to store jars of vegetables, fruits, and jams Grandma Beck had put up lined the walls. Thick dust covered everything, though, and Gracie wondered how long ago she’d preserved the contents. Years? In the far corner, stacks of old furniture and other junk hunkered in the shadows and cobwebs. To the immediate right, two saddles lay spread on the floor.

The trio moved to investigate as one. Juliet went in the other direction, happily sniffing the sealed jars and dark corners. The flashlight illuminated a small circle in front of them, but everything beyond was shifting and obscure. Reilly squatted down in front of the saddles, running his fingers through the thick layer of dust. Gracie and Bill knelt beside him.

“
Close your eyes,” he said. “I’m going to blow on it.”

When they opened their eyes again, Reilly had cleared a portion of the nearest saddle. It was black, with finely tooled leather. There was a silver inlay on the horn and saddlebags hanging over the side. An ancient-looking rifle stuck out from a holster.

They looked at one another. “Strange place to keep your saddles,” Reilly said.

“
Especially when we never had any horses,” Gracie answered.

A small chest not much bigger than a carry-on suitcase was behind the saddles. It was opened, and the contents looked as if they’d been ripped and then hastily stuffed back in. Reilly looked through the jumble. It was filled with men’s clothes that looked to be of the same era as the trunk and rifle. A small round hat and a large cowboy hat sat on the top of the pile. Bill lifted the smaller and turned it in his hands. Inside a white label had been sewn and someone had hand-written a name.
Aiken Tate.

“
Oh my God,” Gracie said. “That’s—”

Juliet began barking loudly and urgently. The three jumped and rushed to see what was the matter. Bill aimed the light at the corner between the shelving and the junk. Gracie saw a foot sticking out. The light beam traveled up the leg to hands, flung out in protest. She saw the white gloves. Her knees wobbled and she braced herself against the shelves.