"There's a big difference."
"I thought you never had a girl."
"I-I haven't. Not since I was a kid."
"W-what happened?" She looked shocked.
"She died."
"Oh my God," she put her hand on his arm."I'm sorry."
He looked at her hand, and moved away, "Iwas just nineteen. She caught the smallpox and died. I liked her alot, my first real crush. I never bothered with courting afterthat."
"It must have been terrible for you."
"I might not have taken it so hard, but itseemed like everyone I ever cared about died. So I learned not toget too involved with anyone. There is a lot you can change in lifebut dying isn't one of them."
"And you've been drifting ever since,haven't you?" She stared. "That's why you drift, to keep fromforming a relationship with a woman."
"Yeah, I guess it is."
"That's so sad."
When he got too quiet, she moved away.
She got the beans out and he divided them,and he produced a deck of cards from his pocket.
"You always carry a deck of cards aroundwith you?" she asked with a smile not wanting to dwell on hismissed love and loss.
"Most men do." He grinned.
"Now, first I'll show you what a winninghand looks like. You have to know what beats what. So, we'll startwith pairs. One pair is a fair hand say in five card stud, as youdon't get many cards and if the pair is high, like say Kings orAces, then you should bet. If it's duces you should probably callthe bet. I'll lay the cards out and show you what will beatwhat."
She watched him lay out two pair then andtold her that was a fair had in any game, especially if the cardswere high.
"Oh you mean if they are Aces or Kings?"
"Yeah, that's the idea. And in stud, that'sa good hand as you don't get as many cards."
"Okay." She smiled again.
Then he tossed three of a kind out and toldher that was a good hand. A flush, and a straight could win too.Then he showed her what a Royal flush was.
"Must be hard to get one of those." Shechuckled.
"Very hard. And if you ever get one, you'vewon the game. But just as you watch your opponent's face, they'llbe watching yours, so don't give away a good hand with a softsmile."
"My goodness, there are a lot of kinds ofhands aren't there?" she mused with widened eyes.
"Yes." He grinned at her enthusiasm. "That'swhat makes it difficult to win."
Then after going over them many times, theyplayed a hand. She tried to read his face as he played but it washard. She laughed out loud, it was a melodious sound and he stoppedto look at her.
"What's so funny?" He asked with a grin.
"I can't read your expressions." Shesighed.
"I have a poker face then," he laughedtoo.
She lost the first hand, but he explained,"You have to learn to read your fellow player's face. Sometimes menwill foolishly bluff their hand and win."
"How do I do that?" She looked confused.
"You watch his face for one. If he looksserious and hesitates your bet, he's not sure of his hand, and youcould easily win. If he continually makes faces, you have to learnwhat those faces mean to that person. A good hand, a fast call ofyour bet usually means he's confident."
"Oh, I see. This is fascinating." Shegrinned. "I never realized there was so much to the game."
They played half the day and she won nearlyas much as Wes.
"You did good." He told her.
"That was fun. Do you play often?"
"Only when I go into a saloon." He informedher.
Her face flushed, "Oh, and do you gooften?"
He stared at her with a smile, "Notlately."
She turned from the stove where she stirredthe stew, "Oh, I guess I work you too hard."
"That's alright, the crop has to be pickedand gathered." He insisted.
"I guess you are overdue for a visit then,"she asked shyly.
"I'll get by." He said raking all the beansback into the barrel she had in the kitchen.
She turned and he was close, close enoughthe smell the soap on his body. Close enough that if she reached ahand to him, she could touch him. She swallowed hard. "Look Wes,it's raining, if you want to go into town, go ahead, I don'tmind."
"You don't?" He asked.
"No of course not. You deserve the day off."She insisted. "I might go over to Mrs. Tate's, and take my quiltingpieces over. They meet every Thursday for quilting."
"Oh, well, guess this is a good day for it,isn't it?"
"Sure," she insisted, and then her eyes methis and she lost all thought. She felt tongue tied as his lazy gazewent over her with silent appreciation. It would be dangerous tolose her heart to this man, but a bond had already begun to growbetween them. Her cheeks warmed
"Want me to drive you over?" He asked stillstaring at her.
"Will you pick me up later?"
"Sure," he cleared his throat.
"All right, that will be fine, then." Shetold him.
She picked up the dirty dishes and took themto the counter.
When he brought the wagon around, she hadher quilting pieces and needles and thread packed in a valise. Hetook the valise, then helped her up. He held her hand just a minutelonger than was necessary and she sat down beside him. The way helooked at her when he held her hand, made her wonder what he wasthinking.
The tension was so tight, she felt hercheeks blush.
She was quiet all during the ride over andhe couldn't think of anything to say either. And yet there was somuch she wished she could say to him.
After he dropped her off, he headed fortown.
Moby followed them to the edge of the yard,then slowly walked back and laid down on the porch.
"He's feeling left out, I usually take himwith me." She sighed as she watched him.
***
This was a bad idea, and he knew it, but hehad to put some space between himself and Kate. She was too much awoman to be around not to admire. And he did admire her. Hell, hewanted to kiss her so bad last night, but he refrained, and thestrain it caused was enough to
