and held them there. He watched as Mike started to shift and twitch as if a campfire had been built under his chair. “Tell you what,” Virgil finally said. “Make it a hundred.”
Even though the cowboy was no longer in the hand, he slapped his hands together and snapped around to see what Mike would do. By the look on his face, the cowboy thought that whatever money he may have lost was more than enough to pay for the show he was getting.
Mike nodded slowly and let out the breath he’d been holding. “You think I’m stupid? I’ve played with you before, and I know you’re full of shit.”
“One way to find out,” the gambler said.
“Yeah. There is. I raise it to one fifty. You want to bluff me? You’d best be willing to do it with more than what you got.” He threw in his money as though the pot was already his and then leaned back to throw a sideways glance toward Doc. “You still in this, Holliday? Or do you need to go lay down for a while?”
Doc didn’t touch his cards. Leaving them where they lay on the table, he took a slow pull from his whiskey and let it trickle down his throat. Thankfully, the breath he let out was nowhere near an open flame. “Tell you the truth, I’m amazed the rest of you are still in this. Especially since I’d bet my practice that Orville here has at least two pair, which should be more’n enough to beat the pair each of us wound up with.”
“You think you know so much, Holliday?” Mike asked in a steady tone. “Then make yer move.”
Although Doc kept his eyes on Mike, there was no threat in his gaze. Instead, there was a bit of amusement as he shrugged and went for his chips. “I bet another two fifty. Consider it a donation to the fine art of tin-panning,” he said, with a glance over toward the old miner next to him.
Orville had to laugh. “I’ll be damned before I get shoved out of this game.” Reluctantly, he reached for one of the papers in his pocket. He brought it out, unfolded it and then dropped it onto the table. “That’s the deed to a hell of a good claim. You’ve got my word on it.”
“Tell you what. If it doesn’t pan out to cover your bet in a month, I’ll be back to have a word with you. Anything after that goes to me no matter what.”
The miner thought about it and nodded. “Fair enough, I guess.”
“That’s the spirit!” Doc said while lifting his glass. “I must say, you truly surprise me. Your drinks are on me tonight, especially since I shouldn’t have any trouble paying for them after this hand.”
Virgil was still shaking his head while watching Doc in action. He seemed more than a little uneasy however, when he saw the way Mike’s hand was inching closer to his gun. “I’ve seen you make some bold plays, Doc. Is this another one of those, or do you really have what it takes?”
“One way to find out.”
After pausing long enough to riffle through his chips, Virgil shrugged and pushed most of them forward. “No problem here. Most of this money used to be Mike’s anyway.”
“Care for a little side bet between us?” Doc asked.
Virgil shrugged. “What do you have in mind?”
“First one to make Mike cry wins a dollar.”
A smile broke across Virgil’s face as he shook his head at the same time. Glancing over to Mike, he said, “Doc’s just being Doc. He doesn’t mean anything by it.”
“Fuck that,” Mike spat. “And fuck you, Holliday.”
Mike looked back and forth between the other men so quickly that he got dizzy. The miner wasn’t giving him anything to work with besides his stubbornness to fold. Doc was taunting him openly, and Virgil merely looked back at him while trying not to laugh. Those last two fed the fire in Mike’s belly so much that he couldn’t even begin to hide it. Looking over at the grinning cowboy just made things worse. “What the hell is so funny?” Mike asked, while all but lunging toward the youngest man at the table.
The cowboy recoiled slightly but couldn’t stop smirking. “Just watching,” he said while holding his hands up. “Don’t mind me.”
“Yeah? Well let’s see how you all like this.” Mike shoved his chips into the middle. “I got you covered, plus another fifty.”
Doc’s expression didn’t shift. His steely gray eyes locked onto Mike as if he was the only other living soul in town. In the moments that he held that stare, every other sound in the saloon seemed to fade away. Finally, knowing when the other man was just about to snap, Doc pulled out a wad of folded bills from his jacket pocket and said, “I raise. Five hundred.”
The miner let out a low whistle.
“Well, old-timer,” Doc said. “You have anything else to bet? Or do you really have that much confidence in two pair?”
The miner shook his head and sighed. “I know better than to gamble with what I don’t have. Besides,” he added, glancing at the gun in Doc’s holster, “I wouldn’t want to make those claims sound like they’re worth enough to cover this. Take ’em.” With that, he dropped his cards faceup onto the table. He had two pair: aces and threes.
After a few coughs into the back of his hand, Doc asked, “What about you, Virgil?”
Virgil’s face could have been made from stone. Although he wasn’t outright mad, he obviously wasn’t laughing anymore. The smile on his face wasn’t fooling anyone, and when he dropped his cards onto the table, it seemed like he was cutting off five of his own fingers. “You got something, Doc. I don’t know what it is, but my guess is it beats my two ladies.”
Doc’s nod was almost imperceptible. His eyes remained firmly trained upon Virgil in a way that was strangely comforting to the gambler.
“What’d you say you had?” Mike grunted. “Queens?” Although the subtle shrug he got from Virgil widened the grin on his face, that celebration didn’t last long once he looked over to Doc. Bit by bit, Mike’s grin dried up and finally blew away. The mention of queens didn’t rattle the dentist in the slightest. Glancing down at his own cards, Mike felt as if his innards were being squeezed in a clamp.
“I heard you was lucky,” Mike said to Doc. “I also heard you was a cheat. What I know for damn sure you want me to call so bad you can taste it.” Without another word, he pitched his cards onto the table so roughly that they flipped over to reveal a pair of kings. “I’ll get you next time.”
Doc turned his cards over and set them down. There was plenty of paint to be found, but none of it matched.
“Ace high?” Mike snarled.
The cowboy gaped at the cards as if they’d come alive and started to dance.
Virgil let out a disgusted sigh but tipped his hat to the dentist. “You got me, Doc. You’d have a hell of a career in theater.”
“Possibly,” Doc replied. The southern drawl in his voice lent it even more of an amused tone. “But I’d rather be up close to my audience. More fun that way.” He reached out and pulled in a portion of the chips while looking over to Mike.
The miner laughed under his breath at first, but then out loud. It was a sad, regretful laugh that was directed more at himself than the situation. “Good game, Doc. Next time, I’ll know to listen to my gut.”
“And next time, I’ll try to draw better cards.”
Mike was seething. His fingers curled around the edge of the table with such power that his knuckles turned white. “You . . . bluffed me . . . with an . . .
“The night’s young, Mike,” Doc drawled. “And you’ve got to admit it was a hell of a ride.”
Letting out a breath that was like steam coming from a bull’s nostrils, Mike stood up and lifted his side of the table with him. Chips scattered and cards fluttered through the air as the heavy table knocked into both Virgil and the miner. By the time the edge of the table slammed against the floor, Mike was reaching for his gun.
“Aww hell,” Caleb grunted as he jumped behind the bar. “Here we go.”
[6]
Caleb jumped onto the bar, slid a few inches over the polished surface, and then dropped down on the other side. He could already hear hell breaking loose behind him, and the money needed to fix the damages rang up like there was a cash register in his head. Glasses were breaking, and chairs were surely to follow, making the stitches
