already turning toward the door.
Placing his hand upon Hank’s shoulder, Caleb walked past the barkeep and whispered, “Stay on your toes.”
The barkeep didn’t know how to take that until he finally spotted Mike swaggering into the saloon like he owned the place. Nodding, Hank stepped aside so Caleb could walk around the bar.
“Hell of a crowd tonight,” Mike said as Caleb approached him. “Word must’a gotten out about my big game.”
Caleb stepped right up to him, stopped, and took a look around for himself. “I’ve seen bigger.”
“Yeah? Well you won’t see a bigger game.”
“If that’s all you’re here for, then go have your game. I’m more than happy to provide the table. If it’s trouble you’re after, then you’d best move along.”
After ignoring Caleb for another moment or two, Mike finally shifted his eyes back to him and smirked. “Didn’t I already deal with you?” He reached out to take hold of Caleb’s chin so he could move his head from side to side. “Yeah. Looks like I did. How about you tend to your bar before I tear that face up some more?”
Caleb slapped Mike’s band aside. He could feel his nostrils flaring as every muscle in his body tensed.
Mike’s smirk became even more maddening as he said, “Ohh, don’t get all riled up. I didn’t mean anything by it.” He then put his back to Caleb and moved forward as if he’d forgotten the other man had even existed. “Now where’s that dandy who thinks he can play cards?”
“That’d be me,” came a voice from a table toward the back of the room.
The gambler didn’t bother getting up from his seat. He was still dressed in his black suit, but his tie was loosened and his jacket was draped over the back of his chair. Some of the others at his table took a moment to acknowledge Mike’s presence, but only with a quick glance over their shoulder.
Mike didn’t seem to notice that nearly everyone else in the saloon had gotten back to their own business. Assuming he was the center of attention, he glanced around from one side to another, nodded and smiled to an audience that he didn’t even have.
As much as he wanted to do otherwise, Caleb let Mike pass. The words that had passed between them still burned inside his ears.
Stopping once he got up to the gambler’s table, Mike pulled out a chair and dropped himself into it. He kept his eyes glued to the well-dressed man as he reached into his pocket and removed a wad of folded money. “Here’s my stake,” he said with a snarl. “Think you can match it?”
So far, the gambler’s face hadn’t gone through more than half a change, which took it from casual blankness to amused blankness. Without breaking Mike’s stare, he let his hand wander over the stack of chips in front of him. A few glances toward Mike’s cash were all he needed before the gambler measured out the proper amount of chips and shoved them forward. It was about a quarter of his total.
“That ought to do it,” the gambler said.
Mike’s eyes flicked back and forth between his cash and all of the gambler’s chips. Seeing the difference between the two was enough to wipe away some of his previous smugness, but not all of it. Finally, Mike stopped acting like he was on display.
“Just because we’re playing against each other,” the gambler said, “doesn’t make us enemies.”
“The hell it don’t. I plan on soaking you for all you got. If I do win, you’ll give me back what you cheated off me before. That’s the deal, and you better have enough to honor it.”
“Of course.”
“Then that’s all I need to hear. Oh, and one more thing.” Mike lowered his voice to a deadly serious tone. That intensity cut through all of his previous swagger the way flames cut through a wall of smoke. “If’n I catch you cheating,” he said, motioning toward the gun at his hip, “I’ll burn you down right here in front of God and everybody. You hear me?”
“Oh, I hear you,” came a voice that didn’t belong to Mike or any of the other players at that table. “Come to think of it, I’d say this whole saloon heard you. That is, of course, if anyone were actually listening.”
Mike’s brow furrowed, and he twisted around to get a look at who’d just spoken. There wasn’t anyone standing behind him or on either side. Caleb was still glaring at him from near the bar, but it hadn’t been his voice. Then Mike spotted another face that matched the voice and was looking right back at him.
It was a pale, gaunt face wearing a smile that would have been more comfortable on a skull rather than any living man’s head.
“Who the hell invited you to this game, Holliday?”
Caleb’s eyes snapped open wide, and he didn’t even bother to hide the surprised confusion that had showed up on his face. Sure enough, after a bit of sidestepping and craning his neck, Caleb was able to spot the dentist sitting at a table next to the one that he’d been watching this whole time. Holliday’s cold blue eyes shifted in their sunken sockets as if to say hello.
Ignoring Mike’s question, Holliday glanced over to the gambler dressed in the black suit. “Evenin’, Virgil.”
Holliday’s drawl seemed especially thick at the moment. It was almost as if his voice had become as relaxed as the rest of him, which was currently lounging in a straightbacked chair as though it was a throne.
Dressed in his dark suit and sitting behind a healthy stack of chips, Virgil Ellis nodded politely at the dentist. “Evening, Doc. I was wondering if you were going to join us.”
Feeling like the odd man out, Caleb wheeled around to get a look at Hank. “How long’s he been there?” he asked, pointing out Holliday to the bartender.
Hank shrugged and shook his head.
Having already gotten up from his seat, Holliday stepped over to Virgil’s table. “I thought I’d warm up until the real action got here,” he said, smirking toward Mike.
Although Mike certainly wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, he knew well enough when he was being ridiculed. “Damn right the real action’s here,” Mike huffed, doing a piss-poor job of maintaining his bravado. “Now how about you just go off and hack up a lung somewhere else?”
Holliday’s chest twitched with a suppressed cough. His face, however, showed no visible reaction. He was wearing clothes that were just as dark, if not quite as expensive, as Virgil’s. With one hand, he reached under his jacket in a way that gave the men at the table a glimpse at the holster strapped around his shoulders.
Mike’s hand twitched toward his gun, but not close enough to set anyone off. His eyes widened in nervous anticipation as he asked, “What the hell are you doing, Holliday?”
After a slight pause, the dentist eased his hand out from under his jacket. He was holding a leather pouch, leaving the pistol holstered under his arm. He hefted the pouch in his hand, allowing the clink of money from within to be heard. With a flourish, he tossed the pouch onto the middle of the table. Silver dollars spilled from it. Even the glitter of some gold could be seen within the leather container.
“I’ve got no objections to him sitting in,” Virgil said.
Still nervous, Mike clenched his jaw and looked around at the others seated at the table. When he didn’t get any support from the rest of the gamblers, he looked down to the money Holliday had offered. Mike let out a breath and licked his lips before finally forcing himself to relax. “Fine by me. I don’t mind winning this one’s money along with everyone else’s.”
“That’s the spirit,” Holliday said as he took a seat at the table. A few of the other players had to scoot to one side, but they let him have his spot between Virgil and Mike. “A positive attitude does wonders in poker. That is, if we are playing poker?”
Virgil nodded. “What else is there?”
“Poker’s a man’s game,” Mike grunted. “I don’t play nothing else.”
“Even with the double negative, I agree wholeheartedly,” Holliday said.
Mike’s nostrils flared. “You got a smart mouth, you skinny little rat. Guess that’s why you need to be heeled at a friendly game.”
“Oh, this?” Holliday’s hand drifted toward his gun, but only to tap the handle lovingly. “This is my good luck charm. And by the way, you can call me Doc.”
“Yeah, I know all about you. I seen you play a few games not too long ago.” Leaning forward until his belly tilted his side of the table, Mike added, “I guess since you ain’t lucky in nothing else, you’re bound to get lucky at cards every now and then.” Mike leaned back and shrugged. “Odds are damn good that you’ll keel over before the
