“I know it,” Thompson said. “For some reason he just got my goat running his mouth at me like that. I thought he was trying to push me into a fight, but he had his chance when he stood up. See that fancy piece of his?”
“I saw it,” Butler said. “Turns out he was no more a gunman than he was a poker player.”
“I guess not.”
Their beers arrived and they each drank down half the mug before coming up for air.
“First night in town, or first night playing?” Thompson asked.
“First night in town.”
“Staying long?”
“Long enough to make some more money.”
“Saw Dog usher you into your seat,” Thompson said. “Friend of his?”
“Just met tonight, over at the Lady Gay,” Butler said. “There was, uh, some commotion.”
“Was that you?” Thompson asked. “I heard somebody kept Jim Masterson from getting shot in the back.”
“Yeah, that was me. Right place, right time.”
“So you’re as good with a gun as you are with a deck of cards?” Thompson asked.
“I get by with both.”
“You do more than get by, my friend,” the other man said. “You’re damned good.”
“Thanks. Ben. I appreciate that.”
“I appreciate a man who can handle his cards,” Thompson said. “You’re a slick dealer, too. Not that I’m saying you cheat, don’t get me wrong. You just handle the cards real well. I’ll bet if you were bottom dealing I’d hardly see it.”
“I’ll bet if I was bottom dealing,” Butler said, “you would have seen it right off and I wouldn’t be standing here.”
Thompson laughed and slapped Butler on the back.
“Let’s finish these drinks and get back to the table. We got some sheep to shear.”
The emptied their mugs and retraced their steps back through the path in the crowd to their poker table. The other three didn’t look real happy to see them. It seemed the only time one of them had won a hand was just now, while Butler and Thompson were gone.
Butler sat down, thinking his luck was going to change now—and for the better.
CHAPTER 14
Butler woke up the next morning with a warm, naked hip pressed against his. He frowned, then remembered that he had finally decided to take Dog Kelley up on his offer for a free woman. He lifted himself up onto his elbows to take a look at her. Her face, in repose, was pretty, and young looking. Her body was long and lean, her skin smooth and clear. Butler figured she wasn’t more than twenty-five. He remembered more, that Kelley had given him his choice of any woman, and when he had picked this one, Dog had congratulated him.
“You got the pick of the litter, my friend. Enjoy.”
He’d come back to his room in the Dodge House and had done just that, until they were both exhausted, and then they had drifted off to sleep.
He was about to wake her up when he realized he could not remember her name. He recalled most of what had transpired last night—the poker game, apparently making friends with Ben Thompson, picking the girl—but for the life of him he couldn’t dredge up her name.
She shifted then, stretched prettily and licked her pretty mouth. As her eyes fluttered open it suddenly came to him in a flash.
“Good morning, Sheila.”
She smiled.
“You remembered.”
“Of course I remembered,” he said. “How could I not after a night like last night.”
“You’re sweet,” she said. She sat up, swung her legs to the floor, then looked over her shoulder at him. She looked very fetching, but his stomach was growling, demanding to be tended to.
“Do you want a morning poke before I go?” she asked.
“Um, if it wouldn’t insult you, no,” he said. “I really have to get going.”
“I’m not offended,” she said, standing up. He hadn’t noticed last night that her butt was kind of flat, like a boy’s. And now that she was standing he could see how small her breasts were. She really wasn’t the type of woman he usually liked. He wondered how much he’d had to drink last night? Had he and Ben Thompson gone to the bar again after the game broke up?
She grabbed her dress and slipped into it, then put on her shoes.
“Last night was nice,” she said.
“Yeah, it was,” he said. “Thanks.”
She went to the door, opened it, then turned and wriggled her fingers at him.
“Bye. See you later, maybe.”
“Bye, Sheila.”
After she left he got up, washed himself using the pitcher and basin on top of the chest of drawers, then got dressed, strapped on his gun and went down to have breakfast.
The steak at the Delmonico had been excellent the night before but he decided to have breakfast in the Dodge House’s restaurant. When he entered he saw that the tables were pretty much taken, leading him to believe that the breakfast there must be pretty good. His stomach grumbled even more as a waiter approached him.
“I’m sorry, sir but—”
“I’m with him,” Butler said, pointing.
The waiter turned and saw a man at a table waving at them.
“Very well, sir,” the waiter said. “This way.”
Butler followed the waiter to the table, then quickly asked for coffee, eggs, bacon, and biscuits.
“Coming up, sir.”
Butler sat down with the man, who had not yet been served his breakfast, and said, “Good morning, Mr. Mayor.”
“’Mornin’,” Dog Kelley said, “and I ain’t Mr. Mayor anymore, so it’s just Dog, like I said last night.”
“You eat breakfast here every morning?” Butler asked.
Kelley nodded. “Start every day here.”
Butler looked around. It looked to him as if the other diners were making a concerted effort not to look at Kelly.
“Yeah, you’re not sittin’ with a real popular man in Dodge,” Kelley said. “I can probably get them to bring another table out for you.”
“I don’t have a problem with the company I keep,” Butler said. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m much obliged,” Kelley said. “I usually can’t get through breakfast without somebody comin’ up to me, askin’ me for a favor or just kissin’ my ass so I’ll make some kind of a decision go their way. I actually don’t mind bein’ left alone.”
Butler didn’t much believe that. He had the impression Dog Kelley quite enjoyed being a politician.
The waiter came with his coffee, promised his breakfast very shortly.
“How’d you do last night?” Kelley asked. “Heard from my bartender you sat down with Ben Thompson.”
“I did well,” Butler said, “but so did Ben.”
“Ben? You got on a first-name basis with him?”
“Pretty much,” Butler said. Briefly, he told Kelley about the opening hand, and by the time he finished his story the waiter was there with their breakfasts. Kelly’s matched Butler’s, except for the thick piece of steak that
