by Gini Rifkin
“Oh, Cody, you almost died. What a horrible man.” Levering up off the bed she paced before him, wringing her hands in distress.
“I thought it odd when he asked about the man who had come into town with me,” she admitted. “His question bothered me, and I lied about your name, but he must have seen you, recognized you. I’ll get dressed. We can leave right away.”
He jumped up and reached for her, stopping her frantic movements and nonsense ideas. “Leave? Are you loco, woman? I’ve business to settle with that sidewinder, and the law in Canada is no doubt looking for him as well.”
“But it won’t be Stokes you’re going up against.” She stayed his hand as he strapped on his gun belt and revolver. “He has hired men—I’ve seen them, they look a nasty lot, all wearing pistols.”
“I won’t run. Can’t. Now that he knows for sure I’m alive and no longer in Montreal, I’ll always be looking over my shoulder. It ends here and now. I want to start a new life, our life. You’re in danger too.”
She released her grip on his gun belt, and pressed her lips together as if trying to stop a useless protest fighting for release. Then she nodded in understanding.
He wrapped her in a hard embrace, kissing her as if it were the first time and the last all rolled into one. Then shucking into his dark jacket, he opened the door to the back steps. Turning, he gave her one last look, along with a smile he hoped would allay her fears. “This is the end for him, but the beginning for us. Stay put, until this is over.”
He fought not to glance back a second time. It would hurt too much to turn away from her twice in one night. Instead, he descended the steps, trying to take stock of the situation and think straight. He’d often imagined finding Jubel and exacting revenge. He’d played out the scenario a hundred times in his mind, hadn’t cared if it meant dying in order to even the score. But back then he’d had nothing to lose; now he had everything to lose—a life with Britania, keeping her safe, making her happy.
Chapter Eleven
Ready for trouble, Cody entered The Silver Moon, and taking up a spot at the end of the bar, he glanced around, sizing up the place and the men trying their luck.
He tensed as the softness of a woman’s body pressed against his back. Damn, he’d told Britania to stay in her room. How’d she get dressed and down here so quickly. He glanced up, and the muscles in his shoulders relaxed as a local gal returned his gaze.
“Hello, handsome. Buy me a drink and I’ll help chase that frown from your face.”
She looked as if she could use a shot as much as he could. Probably another woman Stokes had ruined.
“Why not?” he agreed, not wanting to draw undue attention. “What’s your pleasure?”
“Whatever you’re having will do.” She smiled, transforming her washed out appearance into one of anticipation.
He ordered two whiskeys, thinking he shouldn’t drink hard liquor, but he needed something, not for courage, but to check the reckless desire to tear the place apart and call Stokes out. He couldn’t let Jubel get the upper hand by knowing how angry he felt. Tonight he played for all the marbles. And although the situation might be completely unexpected, it also felt pre-ordained, as if he were rushing headfirst down the path to his destiny, and even if he wanted to he couldn’t alter tonight’s agenda.
Drink in hand, he ambled over to a table where a game of Monte played out. Like a lost puppy, the young woman followed in his wake. He claimed the only empty chair, one that positioned him with his back to the room, not the best of situations, but he could see the gambling hall reflected in the mirror behind the bar. Taking off his hat, he anteed up.
Skill and luck held him in good stead. So much so, the other players soon begged off, content to watch as he bet against the house and kept winning. They cheered him on, as if it were a victory for them too. Where could Jubel be? News someone was winning against the house shouldn’t take long to reach him.
A storm brewed outside, and a violent clap of thunder split the night. Startled, Cody glanced up, and like a malevolent specter, Stokes’ image appeared reflected in the mirror. A sneer on his face, he drew closer, taking over for the man dealing the cards.
“Welcome to my gambling house, Cody. You’re looking fit.”
“No thanks to you. How many people did you kill, ruin, or swindle to get this place up and running?”
“Watch yourself, Mr. James. You’re in my territory, and what with mining accidents and the cruel forces of nature, drifters such as yourself disappear in Leadville on a regular basis. Arrangements can be made for you to be one of them.”
“It won’t be so easy this time, Jubel. Now I know you for the murdering bastard you really are.”
At his words, a murmur of disbelief rippled through the crowd, and right on cue, a flash of lightning illuminated the stained-glass window in the ceiling. The two men glared at one another, the violent storm charging the air outside, their loathing charging the atmosphere in the room.
“How about a change of pace,” Jubel prompted. “Just you and me. Five-card stud. Or are you afraid?”
The offer gave him pause. The ground upon which he tread had just become more dangerous. Even when he didn’t cheat, Stokes could claim to be a master of the game. But, there really seemed little choice.
“Deal,” Cody said, forcing his voice to dead calm.
The room turned as silent as a cold winter’s night, and all eyes were on them as they played for pride, male dominance, and perhaps even their lives. Jubel insisted on a special deck of cards, and Cody’s suspicion they were marked became quickly confirmed as he steadily lost. Almost all of his winnings were gone. His eyes burned from the cigar smoke hazing the room, and his patience had worn thin. He wanted to get this over and done with.
“You’ve had your fun, Jubel. Now let’s play with a straight deck and see how good you are.”
“Are you accusing me of cheating, Cody? That kind of talk can get a man killed quicker than one of those mine cave-ins. Especially if the man is a stranger, daring to threaten an upstanding citizen and landowner such as myself. I got friends here.”
Behind him, off to the left, Cody heard the sound of a revolver being cocked.
“Friends, Jubel? Or lackeys.”
Jubel smiled, and continued dealing from the altered deck. Cody got the point. His choices were lose-all or die. Maybe both. So much for his plan of garnering a nest egg for a future with Britania. He’d have to play along, and wait for a chance to make his move. With any luck, he might make it out alive.
****
Hidden by the thick velvet drapes on the upper landing, Britania watched the drama unfolding below.
Whipped by the wind, the rain beat against the windowpanes, and another blast of thunder shook the building. She could barely hear the conversation going on, but what she saw needed no narration. A deadly game had been set in motion, and Cody faced grave danger. Jubel wouldn’t play fair, and the man standing near Cody wouldn’t hesitate to use the gun he held at the ready.
Gripping the plush velvet, she fought the urge to rush down the stairs and into Cody’s arms. He’d made it clear he couldn’t walk away. Left unsettled, the bad blood between him and Stokes would always be there, and someday it would come between her and the man with whom she hoped to share her future.
As foretold by the cards, Cody’s biggest challenge awaited him here, and if ever there lurked a devil at the crossroads, it was Jubel. The threat of death hung in the air, but the cards also foretold Cody would be triumphant—if he remained true to his heart’s desire. A rush of love for him flashed through her, strengthening her resolve. No words had been declared, but she knew he loved her too. His warm embrace offered shelter and hope, and the ravenous hunger he aroused in her body could be satisfied by his touch alone. Even more importantly, he had shared part of his past with her, opening his heart, and giving her a glimpse of the genuine and loyal man behind the footloose cowboy. A gift beyond measure.
Now all alone, he
fought for the both of them, and all she held dear hung in the balance. She must to something—anything. He’d told her to stay out of the way. He wanted her safe, and if she were at his side, she would be a distraction he could ill afford. Still, she refused to stand by and not try to help.
Turning loose of the curtain, and taking a death grip on the fabric of her dress, she raised the hem and padded down the carpeted stairway, praying the floorboards would not creak and give her away. Reaching the bottom, she inched around the perimeter of the room, positioning herself behind the circle of people ringing the table where Cody and Jubel sat.
She’d heard the comment about the marked deck, and with Snake Eyes’ aiming a pistol at Cody’s back he didn’t have a chance. She gave a quick glance around. No one seemed interested in coming to Cody’s aid. Why should they? They were all scared of Jubel Stokes, every one of them. Besides, from what she’d read, a bloody shoot-out always provided good entertainment.
Grabbing a fresh pack of playing cards from an empty table, she pushed her way through the crowd. A sealed deck, it should eliminate any chance of it being marked.
“Here gentlemen,” she said tossing the deck on the table. “Try these. They should even the odds.”
Chin raised in defiance, she placed herself between Snake Eyes’ gun and Cody. Jubel smiled, unperturbed by her interference. Cody paled, his mouth flattening into a grim line.
“Ah, Miss Rule. Nice of you to join us. Your suggestion is duly noted, but I’m afraid you’re too late. It seems your friend no longer has any assets. I’ve cleaned him out. I hope he performed better in bed than at the table. Of course,” he smirked, “the pleasure of your company was no doubt inspirational.”
“Would you like a chance to find out, Mr. Stokes?” The sarcastic retort had sounded a good idea rattling around in her head. But now that the words were out, and she took time to consider their outrageous implication, she felt rather faint and reached for a chair-back to steady herself.
“Shut up, Britania. You don’t know what you’re saying. This is more than a game.” An expression of alarm troubled Cody’s face, and sparks of anger glinted in his brown eyes. If looks could kill she’d be dead, or at least severely wounded.
“Now, now. Do be a gentleman, Cody. Let the lady have her say. What is your proposal, Miss Rule?”
She swallowed hard. In for a pence, in for a pound.
“You play one more hand, with those cards.” She nodded toward the unopened deck. “If you win, you get me. If Cody wins, he gets…The Silver Moon.”
Her words were all bravado and fabrication, but Jubel didn’t play fair, why should she? She had to do something to turn the table in Cody’s favor. It would buy time, and they needed a ploy to get out of this deadly situation. Besides, win, lose, or draw, it was too late now to change tactics—the stage was set, the players in place.
“You prize yourself quite highly, Miss Rule,” Jubel pointed out, a gleam in his eyes. “And I warn you, I always get my money’s worth. Any chance of sampling the wares before we begin?”
The thought of Jubel’s hands on her body turned her stomach. “I’ve heard you’re quite experienced at ‘sampling’ what women have to offer,” she threw back at him, despite the fear crushing in on her, making it hard to breathe. “Sampling and selling,” she added, trying to rattle him.
Jubel laughed at her allegation. Cody clenched his jaw, and a muscle twitched along one cheek. Then he flexed his right hand as if readying himself to reach for his gun.
“This is crazy, Britania. I won’t play.”
“Oh, you’ll play Cody, or be shot for accusing me of cheating. Either way, I’ll be the winner, and I’ll have Miss Rule. Do you know why, Cody? Because you’re a loser, always have been—always will be. New deck or old, I’ll beat you.”
Jubel open the new pack of cards. The heavy silence in the room reined complete except for the sound of the cards slapping the table as Jubel dealt them out. Exaggerating each movement, he tortured them with every moment he delayed.
Both men picked up his hand. The rain drummed a tattoo on the roof, and the wind howled anew. Cody’s face remained impassive, but Jubel’s broke into a smug smile.
“How many, Cody?”
“Two.”
“And one for the dealer. I can already taste your sweet lips, Miss Rule.” Jubel’s gaze roamed her body, lingering on her breasts, then the apex of her thighs.
She balled her hands into fists. Whatever came to pass, she would never allow Jubel to violate the places Cody had caressed and made his own.
“Spare us your rhetoric, Jubel. Show your cards.”
“I’ve a full house, Jacks high. I’ll be thinking of you, Cody, when Miss Rule and I are together in my bed tonight.” He levered up from his chair.
“Not so fast, Stokes.” Cody couldn’t believe his good fortune. Tonight he’d been lucky at love as well as at cards. “It doesn’t beat four of a kind.”
A cheer went up from the crowd. The king had been dethroned. Never really one of them, they were glad Jubel had lost.
She eased closer to Cody, intending to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss his cheek, but he shoved her aside and gained his feet, his chair tipping over backward. The crowd scattered. Not even taking aim, Cody fired backward and to the left, hitting Snake Eyes. The man’s gun went off at the same time, the bullet intended for Cody’s back hitting the floor, followed by the man’s body, a bloody wound in his chest.
Jubel lurched away from the table. He grabbed Britania around the waist and viciously jerked her up against his body, the cold steel of the weapon he brandished digging into the side of her throat.
“You fools. Did you think I would so easily give away my world?”
She struggled as hard as she could, but it didn’t slow Jubel down as he dragged her toward the center of the room. Pistol in hand, Cody waited, making no threatening moves. She stomped down hard on one of Jubel’s feet and broke free. Jubel and Cody fired at the same time, both shots going wide. She turned to run, but Jubel grabbed her again. He seized her left arm and twisted it up behind her, and using her as a shield, he fired again, this time finding his target.
The room seemed to grow dark, and she thought she might faint—not from the pain in her shoulder, but from the pain in her heart as Cody lurched backward and fell to the floor. She couldn’t breathe, didn’t want to believe what she saw with her own eyes.
“Help him, please” she called, to the men and women in the hall.
A salon girl tentatively ran forward, and forming an angry pack, the other patrons jeered and advanced toward Jubel.
“I’ll burn The Silver Moon to the ground before I see anyone else own it,” he snarled.
Chapter Twelve
Making good his threat, Jubel knocked over a kerosene lamp. The liquid contents spread far and wide across the smooth wooden floor. As a second lantern hit the floor, the puddle ignited into a wall of flame, and a swooshing sound sucked up all the surrounding air.
Dragging her along, he toppled over lamp after lamp. A hungry beast, the fire consumed the draperies and furniture, filling the room with a poisonous black smoke, sending the customers running and screaming in blind panic. She called Cody’s name, but all she heard above the chaos was the crash of thunder as it shattered the most terrible night of her life.
“Let me go,” she cried, struggling harder, breathing deeper, and choking all the more. “This is madness.”
“Not madness,” Jubel snarled. “Retribution. For sins past and present. For your lying to me, and playing me for a fool. For Cody trying to ruin me twice in one lifetime. I should have shot him on sight.”
Jubel forced her through a small doorway. The panel swung closed at her back, followed by the ominous sound of a lock clicking into place. Pushing her aside, Stokes pried open a box on the wall. As he turned his back, she yanked on the handle to the locked door, pounding on it, yelling as loud as she could.
“Do calm yourself, Miss Rule,”
he ordered, training the large bore of the pistol directly at her. “The way out of this room is known only to me. Your attempts are useless, and damned annoying.”
Trying to remain calm, back pressed against the unyielding door, she watched as Jubel worked the switches revealed behind a wall panel. The anguished screams of the people on the other side of the door rose in volume. They were begging for help.
“Why are they screaming?” she asked, hands covering her ears. “Why don’t they run?”
“They can’t get out,” Jubel said, his tone matter-of-fact as if he were informing her it looked like rain.
“What do you mean?” She lowered her hand.
“Simply that. They can’t get out. The windows of the gambling hall are barred, and these levers close and lock the doors. Lovingly, he patted the box of controls. “This has proven to be worth every penny for installation. A marvelous robbery-prevention system for deterring thieves. Apparently it’s equally proficient at trapping witnesses inside.”
“You can’t do this. The fire is burning out of control, they’ll all perish.”
“I’m counting on it, Miss Rule. Your precious Cody James among them. He’ll die knowing I have you, and I’ll get the insurance money to start over again.”
His words left her stunned. These were the rantings of a lunatic, ruling out any hope of reasoning with Jubel. She had to try for her derringer. But what if he caught her before she could liberate the weapon strapped to her thigh. Best to go for his gun instead. She lunged for his pistol, getting backhanded across the face for the effort. Pain shot through her jaw, her ears rang, and her mind reeled as she staggered sideways colliding with the wall. Jubel followed, his mouth twisted into a nasty grin, his intentions obvious as he trapped her in the corner and rubbed the front of his body against hers.
“Your cooperation would be appreciated,” he said, jabbing the barrel of his pistol into her ribs. “But not mandatory.”
Panic squeezed at her heart. Think, her mind screamed. There must be a way out of this room. She had to find Cody, had to help him and the other poor souls trapped in the gambling hall.
