“Howdy, ma’am,” Steve said with a tip of his hat.
Holly winked at him. Technically speaking, she was there to keep more of an eye on those doing the betting than the dealer, but she didn’t see any need to point that out.
“You ever hear of skinning?” Doc asked as he collected the cards from the table and box so he could shuffle them all together.
Steve shook his head. “Nope. But I do play plenty of five-card stud.”
Doc ignored the invitation for poker and kept shuffling. “Skinning is a wonderful game I used to play as a child. This right here isn’t too much different. Faro’s an easy way to make me a very poor man.”
Although a few of the other players chuckled under their breath at that, most of them were just anxious for Doc to shut up and start dealing.
“Give our friend here a loan, Holly,” Doc said as he cleared his throat and set aside the cards for a moment.
Leaning forward, the redhead fixed her eyes on Steve and slipped two pale fingers down into her ample cleavage. When her hand reemerged, there was a folded dollar between her fingers.
Coughing under his breath, Doc reached into his pocket, found his flask, and took a few quick sips. When he put the flask down again, his breathing was more or less normal.
“I couldn’t take this,” Steve said while holding the dollar. “I’ve got my own money.”
“Pick a card,” Doc said as he put the deck into the box. “Any card.”
Even before Steve had made his decision, the other players at the table scrambled to put their money down on the various cards depicted upon the felt. Some of those bets had pennies on them and others were covering more than one card at a time. Eventually, Steve slapped his dollar onto the eight.
Nodding, Doc cleared his throat and slipped the first card off the top. “Here’s the soda,” he said as he revealed the nine of clubs.
One of the men who’d put his money on the nine to win swore and punched his knee.
Doc’s hand drifted to the box and peeled off the top card, which was the king of hearts. Under that one was the eight of diamonds. “There now,” he said in a southern drawl that was smooth as honey. “Wasn’t that easy?”
Once again, Holly leaned forward and slid some money toward Steve. She also paid off the other two gentlemen at the table who were smart enough to follow the newcomer’s lead.
“That’s it?” Steve asked.
Doc nodded. “That’s it. There’s plenty more cards in here to go,” he said while patting the box. “What’s your next lucky pick?”
For a moment, Steve glanced back and forth between the felt layout in front of him and the poker games that were taking place less than five feet in almost every direction. Doc was taking another drink from his flask and wincing as the liquor made its way down his throat while Holly played with her hair in a way that seemed to tickle the uppermost curve of her breasts.
“I’m in,” Steve said decidedly. “Can I bet on more than one at a time?”
“Only if you want to break my back even quicker. Holly, show the man the finer aspects of this little game.”
“Glad to, Doc.” With that, the redhead leaned forward again to explain where bets were placed and what each spot on the table meant. This time, every man at that table seemed more than happy to wait and watch the show as she explained what they already knew so well.
Caleb leaned on the bar with both elbows. Although he’d tossed a few drunks out for trying to fall asleep in that very same position, he figured that he’d cut himself a little slack since the sun was turning the sky a bright blue. Not that Caleb would have seen the sky, of course. At the moment, he was doing his best to keep from seeing double.
“How long’s he been at it?” Caleb asked the young woman leaning against the other side of the bar.
Dolly was one of the working girls who’d been making the Flush their base of operations. Having just gotten back after putting one customer to bed, she had no trouble at all stepping away from the bar to get a look at the watch dangling from the closest drunk’s pocket. “Just past nine,” she reported.
“Jesus Christ, that’s almost twelve hours.”
Standing on her tiptoes and craning her neck to get a better look at Doc’s table, she said, “Looks to me like he’s doing all right.”
“Which one? Doc or Steve?”
“If Steve’s still in his spot after playing so long against Doc, he must be doing something right.”
“Maybe. I guess I’d better go over there and have a look.” With that, Caleb sucked in a breath and tried to force the cobwebs out of his head. He managed to keep his walk steady enough as he crossed through the saloon, but couldn’t resist dropping into the closest of Doc’s unoccupied seats.
“Why, Caleb,” Doc said as if he’d just awakened from a seven-hour nap. “You’re just in time to witness our friend’s triumphant return.”
“That’s right,” Steve said enthusiastically. “Ol’ number eight’s been my lucky number all night long, and I know she won’t let me down now. Five hundred dollars. Just to be safe, I’m coppering a three-hundred-dollar bet on the ace!”
“Bucking the tiger?” Doc asked as he tapped the felt. As the phrase suggested, there was indeed a tiger painted on the picture of that ace.
“You bet your ass, Doc! Now turn over those cards and let’s get this show moving!”
Caleb dragged himself out of the seat and walked over to Holly. The redhead was holding up well enough, but she was in the habit of sleeping until four in the afternoon to make sure she was on her toes.
“How much?” Caleb whispered into Holly’s ear.
“He’s been up as much as three thousand, but Doc’s been taking it away piece by piece.”
Caleb glanced at Steve’s stack of chips and counted another six hundred that wasn’t in play.
Pulling in a wheezing breath, Doc took a card with a trembling hand and flipped it onto the stack. The card in the box was the four of clubs, but the one on the table was the ace of hearts. “The tiger pulls through,” Doc said in a cracking voice. “Well played, suh.”
Hearing Doc’s southern drawl become so thick set off warning bells in Caleb’s head. That, combined with the trace of red on Doc’s lips, made him put a hand on Doc’s shoulder and bring himself down a bit closer to the dealer’s level.
“Maybe it’s about time to pack it in,” Caleb said. Looking over to Steve, he added, “We’ll be open later on. Why not pay your wife a visit and come back tonight? I think we could all use some sleep.”
Steve’s eye twitched as he watched the larger of his two bets get pulled toward Doc. When he saw his winnings for the smaller bet come his way, he said, “I’d hate to stop before making my money back. Jen would kill me if I came home this far behind.”
“Hard times call for . . .” Doc paused and coughed into a handkerchief. After dabbing at the corner of his mouth, he managed to croak out the rest of his sentence. “Hard times call for bold moves, Steve. You know that all too well.”
“I sure do, Doc. I sure do. One last play for all the marbles. Eight might have kicked me a little, but it won’t do it again.” Steve pushed all of his money onto the eight marked upon the felt and watched it as if he expected the pile of chips to perform a song and dance.
Still holding the handkerchief to his mouth with one hand, Doc used his free hand to peel off the top card and snap it away.
“You all right, Doc?” Caleb asked.
Doc’s eyes went to Holly at first and then to the man sitting behind the abacus. When he spotted Caleb, he seemed surprised to find someone else at the table. After a few quick blinks, Doc nodded. That movement alone was enough to shake a few beads of sweat loose from his blond hair to trickle along his sunken cheek.