by R. C. Ryan
Inside, a long bar, every stool taken, ran the length of the room. Behind it was a grill tended by the owner, Horton Duke, a bewhiskered man who looked as if he hadn’t shaved in weeks, flipping burgers and onions and peppers, sending up puffs of greasy smoke. Two bartenders were in a state of perpetual motion while a chorus of mostly male voices talked, laughed, cursed. Young women in Daisy Duke cutoff jean shorts and midriff-baring shirts maneuvered between packed tables to deliver trays of longnecks and shots of whiskey. On the jukebox, Dolly was wailing a promise to always love you.
While Penny’s eyes adjusted to the murky interior, Sam sauntered across the room, comfortable in this old familiar place, waving to Horton and the bartenders before leading the way to a booth in the rear of the packed room.
When they were seated, Penny found herself squeezed between Becca on her left and Sam on her right side. Once again, it seemed she would be forced to endure the press of his body to hers. Though she fought to ignore the tingle of awareness, the same couldn’t be said for Sam. The look on his face was one of pure male indulgence.
One of the waitresses hurried over, smiling at the entire family but saving her brightest smile for Sam.
“Hey, stranger.” She leaned down to set the empty tray on the table, aware that she was revealing a good deal of cleavage. “The regulars missed you last night, Sam. Where were you?”
“Sticking close to home. Thanks for asking, Char. It’s good to be missed.” He returned her smile. “Say hello to my family. Everybody, this is Charlotte.”
After quick greetings, Sam glanced at the others. “Longnecks all around?”
They nodded their agreement.
“Anything to nibble? The special tonight is Horton’s chili fries, guaranteed to make you sizzle from your head to your toes.” To the round of chuckles she replied, “Horton insists we tell everyone that.”
“That’s not just a slogan.” Sam shook his head. “You know I love Horton’s chili fries. But we just had supper at Dolly’s.”
“Okay. I’ll tell Horton you’ve been cheating on him, Sam.” With a laugh Char picked up her tray. “Ten longnecks coming up.” She turned and wiggled her way toward the bar.
Mary Pat watched her leave before arching a brow at Sam. “I didn’t expect to see Charlotte Jenkins working here. The last I heard, she was attending beauty school in Eton. She once told me her dream was to open her own shop right here in town.”
Sam nodded. “She was this close to getting certified”—he held two fingers slightly apart—“when her dad took that fall up in the hills. He’s using a wheelchair now, as you know, and Char helps her mother and little brother with the ranch during the day, and works here at night.”
“What a shame.” Mary Pat gave the young woman a warm smile when she returned with their order. “How is your father doing?”
Some of the light went out of Char’s forced smile. “He’s in a lot of pain, Miss Healy. But my mom’s taking him to a clinic in Bozeman next month, and we’re all hoping they’ll find him some relief.”
“When I get back in town in a few weeks, I’ll go by and have a visit with your folks.”
“Thanks. I know they’d like that.” Char moved quickly, depositing their drinks before hurrying off to another table.
Seeing the way Penny was swiveling her head this way and that, Becca nudged her. “Your first time in the Hitching Post?”
“Yes. Is it always so loud?”
Sam chuckled. “You should hear it on a Friday night. Or maybe you shouldn’t. Sometimes it’s a deafening roar.”
Penny smiled. “Maybe they should lower the volume on the jukebox.”
“Why bother? Nobody’d hear it.”
“I guess you’re right.” She sipped her beer.
Finn nodded toward the pool table in the far corner of the room. “Looks like a hot game in progress.”
“Yeah.” Sam tipped his bottle and drank, all the while keeping an eye on the action.
A circle of cowboys ringed the area, watching the players with interest. Their voices and faces were animated. Suddenly a murmur ran through the crowd. Money was soon changing hands.
Several of the spectators walked away, while a few newcomers took their places.
As two cowboys passed their table, Sam heard one mutter to the other, “The kid’s good, but he’s too much of a showboat. He keeps playing for that kind of money, somebody’s going to be happy to relieve him of it before the night’s over.”
The other cowboy added, “And he’s had way too much to drink. He keeps telegraphing every move.”
Intrigued, Sam stood and turned to Penny. “Want to watch up close and personal?”
She hesitated.
Before she had the chance to decline, he caught her hand and helped her to her feet, and then led her to the edge of the crowd. As two of the onlookers moved aside to give them some room, she could see a bearded cowboy setting up the balls for a break.
The second player, hidden from her view, announced from the other end of the table, “Let’s make the game interesting. How about two hundred this time?”
She nearly dropped the bottle in her hand as her fingers reflexively dug into Sam’s arm as the second player came into view.
“Well now.” He looked down at her with a big grin. “I see you’re starting to enjoy this.”
“Oh, Sam…”
Her words were lost as the bearded player rammed the cue ball into the others, sending up a roar from those watching as several balls sank into a pocket.
Sam’s arm came around her shoulders while he kept his attention glued to the game.
He leaned close to say into her ear, “The scruffy cowboy’s name is Luther. He’s good. I’ve played him before. Right now he’s holding back, but I saw the way his eyes lit up when his opponent offered to up the ante to two hundred. I’m betting old Luther will lose this game, then set his opponent up for the big bonus next game.”
“Bigger than two hundred dollars?” Her voice was suddenly shaky and breathless.
“I figure Luther will con this kid into thinking he’s the greatest player in the world, just so he can get him up to four or five hundred next game. Then suddenly old Luther will run the table.” He chuckled. “That’s what I’d do.”
The game moved quickly, with Luther missing his second shot and his opponent winning.
Just as Sam predicted, Luther made a great show of anger before he demanded a chance to play again to win back what he’d lost over the past hour.
His opponent, drunk with success and happy to oblige, suggested they play for five hundred. As the game started, the kid looked supremely confident as he broke the balls and began running them one by one in succession.
Sam looked down at Penny, her hand clutched firmly in his, her eyes fixed on the game with an intensity he couldn’t have imagined mere minutes ago.
“Hey. You’re really getting into this, aren’t you?”
She didn’t say a word as the kid swayed slightly and missed an easy shot. A roar went up from those surrounding the table.
“Sam,” she whispered, her eyes suddenly filled as Luther stepped up and methodically ran the rest of the balls into the pockets.
When he’d finished, he lifted his wide-brimmed hat as a salute to his audience before saying to his opponent, “That’s five hundred dollars, kid.”
The young cowboy dug the money out of his jeans and counted out five hundred dollars before slinking dejectedly toward the bar.
“Thanks, kid. Nice doing business with you. I appreciate your donation, son. I’m here any time you’d like to ask for a rematch,” Luther called to his retreating back.
As the crowd drifted away, Sam looked down at Penny.
“Don’t go feeling sorry for that young cowboy. It may be a tough lesson, but anybody who wants to be a player has to learn it. The first rule of gambling is never bet more than you can afford to lose. And there will always be a time when you lose. Next time, he’ll be more cautious. The s
econd rule is you can’t get drunk when you’re running a hustle. Once your brain gets muddled, it’s all over. You need to stay sharp and maybe spend some time watching your opponent before jumping into a money game against him.”
Seeing tears welling up in her eyes, he put his hands on her upper arms. “Hey now. That’s just the way the game is played. Not just the game of pool, but the game of hustling.”
One big fat tear rolled down her cheek, and he swiped at it with his thumb.
His voice lowered. “I’m missing something here. The toughest female I know, the woman who orders us all around like a drill sergeant is shedding tears over a pool game? What’s wrong, Penny?”
Her lips were quivering, and she was very close to crying like a baby.
“I don’t care about your stupid game, or hustling. It’s what I saw. Or rather who I saw. That wasn’t just another cowboy, Sam.”
“Are you talking about Luther?”
“No. The other one. The loser. That beer-drinking, pool-hustling stupid drunk cowboy is my little brother, Curtis. After all the lectures I’ve given him about doing the right thing, he pulls a stunt like this just to show off to those others.”
Despite the tears, her eyes narrowed in anger. “And whether he likes it or not, I’m about to go over there right now and rip a great big patch off his ornery hide.”
Chapter Nine
Before Penny could do what she’d threatened, Sam caught her by the arm and hauled her up against him. “Hold on, now. You may be his big sister, but right now he’s drunk as a skunk, and you’re mad as a nest of hornets. You mix those two, you’re sure to cause an explosion.”
“I don’t care. I’m going to…”
“You’re going to wipe those tears.”
Knowing his family was watching, Sam drew Penny aside, handing her a handkerchief and making certain they were in the shadows while she struggled to compose herself.
When she’d finally wiped away the last of her tears, he leaned close. “Now, if you want to go talk to your brother, I’m going with you. Understand?”
“I don’t need a bodyguard to give Curtis a piece of my mind.”
“You may want to remember that he’s sitting with a crowd of wranglers from the Lazy K. He’s already made a fool of himself in front of them. He won’t take kindly to having his big sister chewing him out in public.”
“I don’t give one hoot what Curtis likes or doesn’t like.”
As she started away, Sam gave a hiss of annoyance before laying a hand on her arm. “Before you charge in there, take a breath.”
Though she shot him a killing look, she dragged in a deep breath before starting toward the bar.
Her brother was surrounded by a group of rowdy men.
“Nice job, kid.” A grizzled old cowboy tipped up his beer. “Now that you’ve given away your paycheck, you’ll have to work overtime just to make enough to eat.”
A bearded cowboy defended Curtis, slapping him on the back. “Okay, so you lost. But you lost to one of the best hustlers around. So stop beating yourself up and just enjoy the fact that you’re still standing.”
“Barely,” another cowboy hooted. “I think you’ve had enough beer for tonight, Curtis.”
“I don’t think I’ve had nearly enough.” Curtis signaled the bartender for another.
Penny pushed her way through the group of men to stand in front of the young cowboy seated on the barstool.
“Curtis.”
At the sound of her voice he swiveled. He stared at her in stunned silence.
When he finally found his voice, he said, “What’re you doing here, Penny? Last I heard, you were teaching school somewhere.”
“Last I heard, you’d found a job on a ranch.”
“The Lazy K. In Milton. It’s about fifty miles from here.”
“You should have stayed at the Lazy K tonight. You would be five hundred dollars richer.”
He looked away. “Sorry you had to see that. I’ll do better next time.”
“Next time? Oh, Curtis, haven’t you learned anything from this?”
“Still my teacher, aren’t you? It seems you just can’t help yourself.” He gave her a long, level look. “So? What’re you doing in a place like this?”
“I’m here with…”
Sam stepped up beside her. “Sam Monroe.”
He stuck out his hand, forcing the young cowboy to accept his handshake.
“Curtis Cash.”
The young cowboy looked from Sam to Penny. “Is this where teachers hang out to pick up lonesome cowboys?”
“Don’t be rude, Curtis. The teaching job didn’t work out. I’m working for Sam and his family.”
“Sorry. I know how much you wanted to teach school.”
“I don’t want to talk about me. I want to know what you think you’re doing, Curtis. I begged you to go into the military like Danny and Cooper. You promised me you’d make something of your life.”
“And I am. I have a good job at the Lazy K.” He looked around at the grinning cowboys, who were watching in silence. “And these are my buddies.”
“Some buddies. Egging you on.” Penny’s agitation made her careless with her words. “How long will the owners of the Lazy K keep you on when they learn you’ve been out drinking and gambling away your paycheck?”
“It’s none of their business what I do when I’m not working.”
“You’re right. It’s not their business until what you do after hours keeps you from doing what they pay you to do every day. How many nights can you gamble and drink too much before you start cheating your boss out of a day’s work?” Penny put a hand on his arm and lowered her voice, struggling for patience. “Curtis, I hope you’ve learned from this, and find some other way to spend your off hours. If you keep doing this, the word will get around that you’re unreliable.”
He yanked his arm away. His eyes darkened with anger. “Okay, big sis. As usual, you’ve had your say.”
“Curtis, please. I’m trying to help. I raised you better than this.”
“And there it is.” His words were hissed from between clenched teeth. “It’s not bad enough you bossed me around like you were my father and mother when I was just a kid. But now I’m supposed to be grateful to you for the rest of my life?” He slammed down his empty bottle and slid from the barstool. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m twenty-one and in charge of my own life now, big sis.”
“Curtis…”
To his friends he called, “I’m outta here. Who’s with me?”
Without a backward glance at his sister, he stormed out of the Hitching Post.
While Penny watched in stunned silence, the rest of the wranglers drained their drinks and trailed slowly across to the door. Minutes later a convoy of ranch trucks moved out at a fast pace.
Sam snagged their waitress and pressed money into her hand. “Here, Char. Let my family know the bill is paid and Penny and I will be waiting at the door.”
“Thanks, Sam.” She counted the money and started to protest. “Wait, this is too much.”
“Keep the change.”
He steered Penny away from the bar and the two of them stood at the door watching as his family drained their beers and made their way toward them.
“I’m sorry.” Penny greeted them and tried to be heard above the noise. “I’d like to explain…”
“There’s no need.” Sam held the door as the others stepped outside.
“It’s all right. We’ve already heard.” Seeing the look on Penny’s face, Mac managed a smile. “I’m sorry about your brother, but I can’t say I’m sorry we’re leaving. The noise level in there was getting to me.”
When everyone had filed past, Sam led the way toward their trucks.
While Finn climbed up to the driver’s side, Sam helped Penny before sliding in beside her.
In the darkness he reached for her hand. The fact that she offered no resistance was proof that she was somewhere else in her mind.
�
��So.” Finn turned onto the interstate. “What’d you think about the Hitching Post?”
“It was…loud.”
Finn gave a short laugh. “You forgot to mention smelly and noisy and raunchy. But hey, it’s home to some of us.”
“He means me.” Sam squeezed her hand and her head came up sharply, as though coming out of a dark place.
“How can anyone feel comfortable in such a place?”
He shrugged. “It takes all kinds.”
“Drunks and hustlers.” Suddenly aware that Sam was holding her hand, she pulled it away and held it firmly in her lap. “What sort of man is Horton Duke that he could own such a place?”
“What sort of man? Let’s see.” Sam lifted his arm to the back of the seat. “When Dolly Pruitt had a grease fire at the diner and had to close up shop for two weeks, he offered to let her cook at his place. That was enough to keep her afloat while the repairs were being made to the diner. And then there’s Loretta Everhardt, who lost her husband in a ranch accident. When she went to the bank to ask for a loan, they told her the mortgage had been paid, and she was debt-free. It took her weeks to find out it was Horton who was her angel of mercy.”
“And don’t forget Charlotte Jenkins,” Finn said.
“Yeah. The minute Horton heard about her father’s accident, he told her she could have a job with him for as long as she needed it.”
“I get the message. Horton Duke is a good man who has helped a lot of people.” Penny sniffed. “But does Charlotte Jenkins have to dress in that awful outfit?”
Sam’s voice warmed with humor. “That outfit earns her more tips than a pair of bib overalls ever could.”
“Somehow,” Finn said with a chuckle, “I can’t picture Char in overalls.”
“You got that right, bro.”
The two men shared a laugh while Penny fell silent, trying to digest all she’d just heard.
When they reached the ranch, they parked the trucks and climbed the steps to the house.
Mary Pat gathered Penny close to hug her. “The word filtered to us that the young cowboy losing all that money is your brother.”
