Lonesome Bride Read online

  "Don't you fret, now, Miss Caite,” Danny said. “Not many people get the hang of poker right away."

  "Now you got to choose which cards you'll keep,” Hal put in from around his fat and stinking cigar. “You only get to keep five."

  Caite peeked at her last card and hid her whoop of excitement beneath a ladylike cough. Danny had dealt her the ace of diamonds. She had a full house. Once more the betting went around the table, and this time, Caite threw in the full contents of her purse.

  "Now, Miss Caitleen,” Danny cautioned. “You don't want to go throwing away all your money."

  "I'm willing to risk it,” said Caite bravely.

  The other men protested, but Jed cut them off. “The lady said she wants to risk it all,” he growled, laying his own bet on the table. “Let her."

  Reluctantly, Danny called for everyone to turn their cards face up.

  "If I keep these three aces and these two tens, does that leave me anything good?” Caite asked innocently, spreading the full house out on the table for all to see.

  She was met with stunned silence.

  "Well, I'll be a buggered toad,” Hal muttered under his breath.

  "Looks like the lady won,” Jed said sardonically, favoring Caite with the first grin he had given her all night. “Gather it up, Caitleen."

  "Beginner's luck, I guess,” Caite responded sweetly, and began putting her winnings back in her purse.

  * * * *

  "Sure ‘tweren't too nice o’ you to fool us like that,” Mick said several hours later, as Caite again swept the table clear of winnings.

  "You should know better than to trust a woman,” Jed told him.

  "I'm done in,” Hal declared, reaching over to shake Caite's hand. He was echoed by the other men as they all stood up from the table. “I reckon you earned my respect anyway, Miss Caite. I ain't never seen a better poker face on anyone in my life."

  Caite laughed merrily, the sound like discordant bells in Jed's whiskey soaked ears. “Thank you, Mr. Overton."

  She shook each of their hands soundly. When they had all left the table, she turned to Jed, her green eyes glowing with triumph. She leaned over the table conspiratorially.

  "Sorry to take all your money, Jed.” She laughed.

  Jed shrugged. The whiskey was still warming him from head to toe, and there wasn't much in the world right now that wouldn't strike him as funny. He reached over and pumped her hand as the others had done.

  "You're a heck of a poker player, Caitleen."

  Her smiled turned sad for an instant. “I learned from my father. He is an atrocious gambler. I watched to see what he did, and learned to do just the opposite."

  "I reckon it's not too ladylike to come to a saloon and play poker,” Jed said. He hadn't let go of her hand. It felt mighty fine in his.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Are you going to start that again?"

  "Don't get your bloomers in a bunch,” Jed said, realizing for the first time he was slurring his words. “Why'd you come here anyway? I'd have thought the last face you'd want to see tonight would be mine, the way you yelled back at the hotel."

  "I wanted to show you that it's not only men who can carouse,” Caite replied, tucking the last bit of money into her purse and tying it around her waist.

  "Why?"

  His question seemed to stump her for a moment. “Why not?"

  Jed shrugged. “So you've shown me you can gamble. Do you want to learn how to drink, too?"

  Caite wrinkled her nose at him. “What makes you think I need to learn?"

  Jed laughed. “You can't hold your liquor like a man can, Caitleen, no matter how much you'd like to."

  "Hold it like you are?” she asked, folding her arms across her oh-so-lovely bosom. When had he lost her hand?

  "Yesh,” Jed said, then said it again to get it right. “Yes. Let's see you do it."

  She appeared to think about the prospect, then turned and motioned to Mac. “Another round of what Mr. Peters has been having!"

  This ought to be good, Jed thought, watching Mac fill two more shots with whiskey. He slugged down the first. Caite took the second, turning it around in her hand and looking at it from all angles.

  "What are you waiting for?” Before he had even finished his sentence, Caite had tossed the shot down her throat like a pro. “Blue-eyed blazes!"

  Caite slammed the glass down on the table and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Nothing to it."

  "I am in awe,” Jed declared in drunken admiration. Clumsily, he lifted her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers. At least he tried to kiss the tips of her fingers. His lips seemed to have other ideas, and he ended up smacking the air. Who cared? She got the idea.

  "Another!” Caite signaled to Mac, who obliged promptly.

  Twenty minutes later, the table had been swept clear of cards and money and even glasses. Jed held Caite's hand in his own, both their elbows up on the table.

  "I don't want to hurt you!” Jed exclaimed, blinking at Caite. She seemed to be a little blurry.

  "Don't make me break your arm!” she crowed back, pushing down on his arm with enough sudden force to slam his hand into the table. “I won!"

  Blast. She'd actually arm wrestled him and won. Rubbing his hand, Jed looked at the woman across from him with new respect. And he was afraid to say he loved her? What the blazes was the matter with him? Forget about the checkers, the woman was a poker fiend, and she could down a half-bottle of whiskey to beat the band.

  "Why are you looking at me like that?” Caite asked. Then she giggled. Then she narrowed her eyes at him. Then she giggled again.

  "You're drunk,” Jed accused, pointing an unsteady finger at her.

  "I beg your pardon?” Caite asked huffily. “I am no such thing."

  She giggled again. Jed joined her, reaching across the table to clap her on the shoulder. He must have slapped a little too hard, because Caite fell off her chair. She didn't seem to be hurt. She just giggled some more.

  "It feels like ants in my belly,” she gasped at last.

  Jed helped her up from the floor. Her chair had seemed to disappear, so there was only one place for her to sit. He heaved her onto his lap. Blue-eyed blazes and blast! Aside from the odor of stale cigars, sweat and spilled beer, she was the prettiest thing he'd ever smelled. And he told her so.

  "You think I smell good?” She didn't push him away when he nuzzled her under her ear.

  "Mmmhmm."

  "You two going to be wanting anything else?” Mac asked.

  "I'm tired of whiskey,” Caite declared suddenly, wiggling herself more comfortably on Jed's lap.

  "We'll have two beers,” Jed said. “Quit wiggling there, Caite."

  "Why?” She turned to him, wide-eyed, as if she had no idea what the heck she was doing to him.

  Mac returned with the beers before he had time to answer her. “Here,” Jed said, handing her the foamy glass. “Drink this."

  Caite took the glass from him. “How am I supposed to drink this when there's all this funny white stuff on the top?"

  She held the glass in two hands, bringing it so close to her face some of the foam got on her nose. She laughed then dipped her tongue into the beer's creamy top. At the sight of that pink ribbon sliding from between her lips, Jed nearly spilled his own beer. She slipped her tongue again into the foam, using the tip to scoop up some of the suds.

  "Jesus, Caitleen!” Jed cried, dropping his glass entirely. “Are you going to drink that beer or make love to it?"

  She turned to look at him again. Her face was flushed, and her hair had begun to pull out of the tight bun. Her eyes sparkled. Slowly, slowly, she ran that tempting tongue along her lips again, keeping eye contact with him all the while.

  "I reckon,” she replied in husky imitation of him, “I'd like to make love. But not to the beer."

  With a groan, Jed stood and grabbed her up in his arms. He vaguely heard the chair clatter to the floor behind him, but paid it no mind. He locked hi