by Diane Darcy
He’d also brought along three hired guns, and dealers for all seven tables.
So far, everything was running smoothly, and Luke was doing well. Two men from his table were already out and for the most part he was able to focus, throwing an occasional glance around as he made sure everything continued to operate efficiently in the smoke-filled room.
A low murmur buzzed through the room and music from the pianoforte played softly in the background. Everyone seemed to be having a good time.
His biggest distraction was thinking about Grace selling her kisses.
He got steamed every time he thought about it.
What kind of a lady was she, anyway? Was it her plan to drive him insane? Because if that was her plan, she was doing a pretty good job at it. What would her parents say? Had she thought about that?
He wasn’t going to think about her anymore.
He discarded and gestured to the dealer for two more cards, watched the gentleman around him, and completely focused on the game.
But still, how could Mrs. Braxton have approved of any of this?
He studied his cards. Not a bad hand.
The thought of her held tight by another man, her soft lips being kissed by another … blast her, anyway!
He could feel his blood rising and his head was beginning to feel as if somebody were beating a drum behind his eyes.
Grace was going to get somebody killed.
He looked at his cards and studied the other men at the table. He’d spent months planning for this and he wasn’t going to let her ruin it for him. They were having too much fun for that. Well, he was anyway. Gabe was already out, and from his thunderous expression as he stood against the wall with the other losers, he wasn’t very happy about it.
Sawyer was still in, which didn’t surprise Luke at all. It would be funny if it came down to the two of them in the end.
Men and women moved about the room observing the games, and every time someone won the table, he could hear groans and grumbles until a new game started.
While some men stayed to observe, some left; no doubt to go to the picnic. No doubt to find Grace and try to redeem their raffle tickets.
Should he have bought some?
Would she have sold him any?
He needed to focus. Focus.
The hotel looked good with its red fabrics, plush furniture, and carpeted floors. The bar gleamed along one wall, and the English bartender serving behind the oak slab gave the place an air of class. The hotel was also at full capacity, and already making money.
They would make a success of this place.
He would make a success of this entire town if he had to drag the current residents kicking and screaming with him to do so.
Another man at his table folded and he glanced at the others and at his hand. He’d chance it.
He had to admit he felt a sense of pride that this day they’d planned for so long had finally come to fruition. All of the plans, the hotel, the tournament. It might be a bit ridiculous, but he felt like a man of action. He’d always looked up to Mr. Braxton, and thought perhaps the war veteran would’ve been proud of them.
Even if the man’s wife was not.
About ten minutes later, another man at their table went all in.
Cards were laid down.
Luke won again.
Chips gathered, dirty looks, some good-natured groaning and the next game was set up.
The man who lost carefully stood and looked across the table at Luke. “Thank you for a good game.”
Luke was a bit surprised the man had lost so soon in the match, as he’d had him pegged for a possible winner. Perhaps it was the eye patch. “You bet.”
“Perhaps I will attend the picnic after all.”
Luke stacked his chips. “I hope they let you in.”
Chuckles around the table, but the man didn’t so much as crack a smile as he lifted a raffle ticket out of his pocket. “Yes, let us hope.” He bowed and left the room.
Anger boiled up out of nowhere and Luke kept his gaze lowered, trying to concentrate on the new cards being dealt. The thought of the man kissing Grace set his teeth on edge.
He wanted to take Grace across his knee and tan her backside.
He took a deep breath and looked at his new cards.
Again, not a bad hand.
What was the saying? Lucky in cards, unlucky in love? He took a calming breath. Grace could do whatever she wanted. They could all do whatever they wanted. It didn’t matter to him in the least what Grace was doing in the park.
For his part, he was just going to ignore it all. Ignore Grace, ignored the picnic, ignore any kisses that might be exchanged.
He was going to win this game.
The Widow Braxton hurried over, her face twisted with irritation. “The gamblers are all coming over here.”
Grace felt her heart lurch. She glanced up, looking for Luke’s stern visage. She didn’t see him. “They are losing so soon?”
“Some of them are. And the losers are making their way over. I wanted them to quit the tournament and come to the picnic, not lose the tournament and come to the picnic!” Mrs. Braxton sounded aggrieved.
Grace glanced at the hotel. “I see no way to really enforce it. I guess we didn’t plan this very well.”
“What about us? Aren’t we still playing?” The young boys at the front of her line sounded worried.
“Oh, sorry.” Grace was in charge of one of the picnic games and handed the next boy in line three beanbags. “Here you go.”
She watched as Mrs. Braxton hurried off to confer with her friends. She hoped they didn’t try to physically bar the men from the food or entertainments. She feared if they did, a fight might break out. Men who’d just lost at gambling surely would not take well to being denied entrance to the picnic.
A moment later, a man was tossed from the hotel out into the street. “Oh, dear.” She glanced over at Pearl, who was helping the children play a fishing game next to her. “Did you see that?”
Pearl, green eyes wide, nodded. “I wonder what’s going on over there? I suspect my father is glad right about now that he dropped out of the tournament.”
Quite a few of the local men had pledged to forgo the tournament. Posting hard facts had helped dissuade family men from wasting money, and pressure from wives increased until some of the men had folded.
But other than the locals, which Mrs. Braxton gloated about, Grace really had no way to tell if their picnic plan had been a success or not. Plenty of men had entered the hotel. She looked to the dark windows, and wondered if Luke could see her.
Not that she cared or anything.
Three more men came out of the building and headed directly toward the picnic.
Grace sighed. They weren’t even pretending to honor their wishes. Short of risking an all-out brawl, there was really nothing they could do.
But what if Luke came over here?
Then what? There wouldn’t be anything she could do about that either, right?
Well, maybe if he did leave the tournament early, he’d be just in time to watch her kiss another man.
It would serve him right.
Chapter 29
Luke was winning.
And what was he doing? Gloating? Having the time of his life?
No, he was wishing he was at the blasted picnic!
Grace was going to have a lot to answer for when this was all said and done.
The men were being eliminated one by one, and some were staying to watch, but most of them were leaving the hotel—not something Luke had envisioned happening.
He’d been in enough tournaments in San Francisco to know that, usually in a contest such as this, the men who lost stood on the sidelines and watched those still in play. The house would bring in extra money from them in the way of drinks and food.
Excitement would build as more men were eliminated.
Was that happening here? No. And why not? Again, this was Grace’s doing.
> At this rate, the last two men playing would have to deal their own hands between them.
Gabe had been present for the most part, but even he had stepped outside for a smoke a few moments ago.
That would be all well and good, except the man didn’t smoke.
So what was he doing outside? He’d probably gone to the picnic too.
Luke was going to skin him later.
“You look a little bit upset there, Mr. Mayor. You got a bad hand?” The player across from him grinned, positive he’d won.
No such luck.
The man might be counting his money too soon.
Luke laid down four of a kind and the man groaned in despair and threw his cards on the table. “Quads. Very tricky, Mayor, I thought I had you. That’s it then, I’m out. I guess I’ll head on over to the picnic.”
Just then Gabe came rushing back in. He headed over to Luke’s table and bent down to harshly whisper in his ear, “The roan is here! The man who tried to snatch Grace—his horse is right out front.”
Luke froze up. He couldn’t breathe for a moment.
Gave continued to whisper. “Which probably means the man is here, in the tournament.”
“Or it could mean he sold his horse and someone else owns it now.” That seemed logical, since the man had to know that they’d be watching for the horse.
“Maybe …” Gabe sounded doubtful.
Luke looked around helplessly. He was one of the few players left, so he was unable to leave without appearing as if he’d given in. If this all turned out to be nothing, as he suspected it was, then Grace would have the satisfaction of knowing that he’d quit the game. “Someone needs to keep an eye on Grace and that horse.”
“Already done.”
Luke swallowed, nodded, and forced himself to stay put.
Gabe patted Luke on the back. “Good luck.”
He watched Gabe leave and for the first time in his life, Luke considered throwing a game, regardless of the consequences.
“Yoo-hoo. Grace, are you ready for a break?”
Grace looked over to see Mrs. Simpson smiling at her. “Oh, thank you. I have to say I’ve gotten quite hungry in the last half-hour or so.”
“In that case, you’d better get some food before it’s all gone.” The older lady gave her a sly smile. “Don’t eat any of Mrs. Shelton’s pickled onions. I’ve sold a few more raffle tickets. I think every man here has bought at least one. Some more than one. We’ve completely run out of tickets now.”
A nervous flicker tightened Grace’s stomach. “I did too.”
Mrs. Simpson sighed. “Oh, how I envy you. If I were young and unmarried I’d have volunteered to be kissed in a heartbeat. Of course, when I was young and unmarried, I kissed all the boys for free.” She giggled like a young girl.
Grace grinned. “I just bet you did. You must have given your governess a run for her money.”
“I didn’t have a governess, but I kept my mother on her toes, that was for sure. She sighed in relief the day I said ‘I do’ in front of the preacher. Of course, it didn’t hurt that I’d snagged myself a rich man. Mama definitely approved. But I’m sure glad I kissed all the boys when I had the chance, so good for you, for thinking up this idea. Fun is sometimes wasted on the young. I’m glad the see that isn’t the case with you.”
Grace gulped. If only it were. “Thank you.”
Unaware of her growing discomfort, Mrs. Simpson continued, “Besides enticing some gamblers away, I suspect we’ve made quite a bundle on this fundraiser, so it’s a win, win situation for us! I hope you get someone handsome to kiss you. Most of the men buying were young men, so chances are you won’t have to kiss an old goat or anything.”
“That’s good.” Unfortunately, she hadn’t thought this through as well as she could have, because she really didn’t want anyone but Luke to kiss her. He’d looked so angry earlier. Would he forgive something like this? Shrug it off? Never see her again?
She weaved through the crowd toward the food tables and, as she glanced around the fun-filled park, a couple of men lifted their tickets and grinned as she walked by. Or maybe leered would be a more accurate word.
She smiled and waved. Oh, dear.
Which one would she have to kiss? She wasn’t attracted to any of them, and some were downright … eww. Several looked at her a bit too possessively and she suddenly found it a little difficult to breathe. She needed some space.
She glanced around, looking for a way out. She needed to compose herself and escape the stares, if only for a moment.
She rounded the edge of the crowd and headed toward a group of trees and bushes. She’d be able to circle them and end up near the food tent. She wished Minnie was there, but she hadn’t been feeling well and was resting at Widow Braxton’s house. She might not be able to get Grace out of the predicament she was in, but she could have offered up some much-needed sympathy.
She was nervous. She admitted it. At the time she’d shared the notion, kissing a stranger had seemed like a good idea. A lark. She’d seen it done in New York City and when she’d thrown out the idea it had been more in the abstract. With everyone standing around watching and cheering, the kisses had remained quite chaste and she was counting on the same thing happening here.
Would it?
A lot of these men were rough and rowdy cowboys. Still, how long could a kiss last?
She suddenly blushed to remember Luke’s kisses. They could last a good, long while, as she well knew.
But in front of a crowd? With women and children around? Surely it would be over before she knew it.
At least it wasn’t just her. Elizabeth and Margaret had volunteered as well. Minnie said she would have, and gladly, but she wasn’t feeling well enough, and Pearl had flat out said no and run up to her room when Grace had cornered her in the mercantile. Some of the other girls had been interested as well, but they were either too young or their mothers had forbidden it.
As she moved around a game in progress and reached the greenery, she breathed a sigh of relief. She’d just be glad when this entire day was over. A few more steps and she was blessedly alone. She slowed, determined to enjoy it. She wished she could talk to Minnie for a moment. The other girl would make her laugh about the upcoming kiss.
She hoped Luke would be able to laugh it off too. Earlier, she’d been pleased about him knowing she was to kiss another man. Now, she wished she’d just kept quiet. If he learned about it later, then so be it, but did she have to go to the hotel and announce it to him?
She cringed.
When had her behavior become so crass?
She’d wanted to make him jealous—and she’d probably succeeded—but at what cost? What if she just made it so he didn’t like her anymore?
Please, please let him be occupied. It would be far worse if he were there to witness it. Somehow, she just knew it.
She rounded another tree and the food tent was on the other side of the row of bushes. She walked toward it, glanced behind her to make sure she wasn’t being followed, and bumped directly into a man. “Oh, I beg your pardon.”
“It’s all right. I was hoping to get the chance to speak to you.” He pulled out a knife.
A knife? She looked up into his eyes, or rather his eye as he wore a patch over one, so filled with disbelief she thought this must be a joke. In poor taste, yes, but a joke all the same.
“I have your friend Minnie in my carriage. If you don’t come with me now, I will go and kill your friend. She’s had a run of bad luck lately. I’d hate to add to it with her death or yours.”
Disbelief melded into fear and her voice came out in a whisper. “What do you want?”
“Come with me and you’ll find out, Miss West.”
Miss West? She flinched and the hair rose on the back of her neck. She looked into his dark eye and knew him. Why hadn’t she recognized him immediately? She swallowed. “All I have to do is scream.”
He looked amused. “And all your admirers will come
running? Then scream and see if I don’t make sure your friend dies, one way or the other. She won’t be the first girl I’ve killed in this town, and I’m partial to blondes.”
“You killed the girl in the saloon.”
He shrugged. “She wasn’t Penny Carmichael. No matter how much she tried to pretend for me, she wasn’t her.”
“You are mad.”
“I’m simply a man who knows what I want and won’t stop until I get it.”
“If I scream they will take you away for murder.”
“I’ll deny it, and then I will kill your friend, and perhaps Mrs. Braxton too. I don’t like the way she’s been harboring you, keeping you from me. I also don’t like the mayor, either. I could cause you a lot of heartache if you don’t come with me.”
She winced when his grip tightened on her arm, squeezing and kneading until she ached.
The thought of all those people, people she’d come to love, hurt or dead because of her, nearly destroyed her. She just couldn’t stand it. “I’ll go with you,” she sighed, resigned.
Satisfaction flared in his eyes. “I thought so.”
Her entire body trembled.
She walked beside the man who’d given her nightmares, her mind racing, as she wondered what to do.
They were relatively alone as they walked on the outskirts of the park. By avoiding everyone, she’d made herself an easy target. What had she been thinking?
Was she doing the right thing by not screaming her head off?
If she did so, what if he ran to his carriage and killed Minnie?
Her stomach clenched. The man was an admitted murderer. When he said he’d kill her friends, he meant it. She, on the other hand, had already been under his knife. She’d fought him off before, and she could do it again.
Almost as if he felt her tensing for action, he lowered his head to murmur in her ear, “Don’t forget, I have your friend, Minnie. She’s already been shot; do you think she can survive being stabbed as well? If you don’t come with me, I promise you I will finish the job and see her dead.”
