“There’s a bet in progress,” Doc rasped.
Steve watched the cards as if he was about to jump out of his skin. Every time Doc’s hand trembled over the box of cards, he twitched expectantly. Just when he was about to bust, he saw a card get pulled from the box and set down next to it in the losing position. It was the jack of hearts.
The only one who wasn’t chomping at the bit to see the next card was Doc himself. When he forced back another cough and managed to lift his hand to reveal the card in the top of the box, it was to search for the nearby flask.
“It’s an eight,” Steve said in disbelief. “Good Lord, it’s an eight! I love this game!”
Caleb moved forward before Steve could reach for more chips or Doc could reach for another card. “Holly, pay our friend here what he’s owed. Lester, can you pack away this table?”
The man at the abacus nodded and started going through the motions of collecting the cards and the rest of the faro setup.
“Time for me to close up,” Caleb said.
Once he had his fists full of winnings, Steve managed to find his voice again. “This is the best night of my life. Jen’s not going to believe this.”
“Bring her along later, and I’ll buy the champagne,” Caleb said in a rush. “But I need to clear this place out right now.”
Finally getting up from his seat, Steve stuffed his money into his pockets and clasped Caleb’s hand to shake it vigorously. “I’ll take you up on that. In fact, I’ll buy the drinks when I come back tonight.” Looking over to Doc, he said, “I’ll be looking forward to another game. Maybe later we can play some poker.”
Doc nodded, but it was all he could do to keep himself upright.
After escorting Steve to the door and locking up, Caleb rushed back to Doc’s table. “You all right?” he asked. “I’ve never seen you this bad. Should I fetch a doctor?”
“I . . . am a doctor,” Doc wheezed. “Just fill up my flask.”
“You’ve had plenty,” Caleb said. “I don’t want you to die in my place. There’s already been too much of that around here lately.”
Doc grinned to reveal the blood that was inside his mouth and smeared over his teeth. “I guess I could . . . use some . . . rest.”
That was all Caleb needed to hear. Lifting the dentist out of his chair was like lifting a scarecrow. “I’ll take you back to your place, and if I see you try to come in here anytime soon, I’ll toss you out myself.”
“I hooked that . . . player for you real good,” Doc said.
“You mean Steve?”
Doc nodded. The glazed look in his eyes made it difficult to tell if he even knew he was being taken through the front door and into the street. When the fresh air hit his face, he responded just a little bit. “He’s a friendly enough . . . sort.”
“Yeah, and it looks like he’ll be coming back no matter what. You don’t have to be here for it.”
“All I need is a bit of rest,” Doc said.
Caleb and Doc were walking down Main Street. The sun hadn’t been up long enough for its rays to become cruel, and the early morning air still had a bit of refreshing dampness just beneath its surface. Surprisingly enough, Doc was responding to every step they took. Caleb could practically feel the dentist’s inner fire coming to life like a glowing ember inside a furnace.
“Do I need to load you onto a horse?” Caleb asked.
Doc shook his head. “I’m staying over the bank on Lamar.”
“You mean that storefront over the Dallas County Bank?”
“That’s the one. A man’s . . . got to make an honest living when he’s not . . . playing cards.”
Caleb laughed and felt Doc start to pull away from him. “You all right to walk?”
Pausing for a moment, Doc pulled in a breath and glanced over at him as if just realizing where he was and what was happening. That fog cleared quickly enough as Doc said, “I appreciate your help, Caleb, but I can make it on my own from here.”
“That’s all right, Doc. I don’t mind.”
“I won’t be carried like some invalid. I’m sure you’ve got plenty to do.”
“First of all, I’m not carrying you. Secondly, the only thing I’ve got to do is have some breakfast, and there’s plenty of fine restaurants down Main Street. Now, are you going to make me wait for you to run on ahead, or do you mind taking a stroll with me?”
Although Doc’s pale, blood-stained face looked imposing enough, his eyes carried a fiery anger of their own. After a few seconds had passed, he simply looked tired. “Maybe I could show you my new practice. After all, it was thanks to your pull with that bank manager that I got enough time to put down the deposit.”
“You’ve actually got a practice going?”
“I’m not exactly fighting off the customers, but there’s a cot in the back, and the quiet is good for me.”
“You know any places to eat around there?”
“A few.”
“Good,” Caleb said. “Because I need to discus that loss I took thanks to your friend Steve Wright.”
“He’s going to be in town for at least a few weeks. Maybe longer.”
“And how do you know that?”
“We were at that table for the better part of twelve hours,” Doc said. “You tend to learn an awful lot about someone in that time. Speaking of which, I owe you my thanks.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve found myself shoved out of plenty of saloons, and I was lucky to still have my hat when I hit the street. Not many people take the time to point me in the right direction.”
“Earn back my losses, and we’ll be even.”
Doc smirked and nodded. “The wheels are in motion, Caleb. Just stand back and let them turn.”
[20]
Doc was back in his seat after a day’s absence from the Busted Flush. In the weeks that followed, Steve Wright became something of a permanent fixture in the saloon as well. He played poker and faro, holding his own like most of the other gamblers in the place. It wasn’t until May that Caleb found out Steve was taking a commuter train into Dallas every week just to maintain his games. It seemed that the Busted Flush was finally on the map.
Standing behind the bar, he glanced over his shoulder as the office door swung open and Hank wandered outside. Although the older man looked tired, he was in better spirits than when it had been Caleb pulling that same duty.
“Quitting time already?” Caleb asked.
“Already?” Hank groused. “It’s damn near seven o’clock!”
“You sure you don’t mind fussing with all them books? I wouldn’t mind taking over for you if you need a change of pace.”
“I’m doing just fine. That office and those books are in better order than they’ve ever been since Sarah left. Besides,” Hank added as he poured himself a cup of coffee, “you most certainly would mind sitting behind that desk. Actually, I think this is the way it should be.”
“I think you’re right. Being out here makes me feel more like a saloon owner and less like a goddamn banker.”
Suddenly, Hank snapped his fingers. “That reminds me! You do still own most of this place, so you should go see Charlie Austin.”
“Champagne Charlie? What’s he want?”
“I got a note from him about some sort of business proposal. Since the Flush is still your baby, I think you should go see what he wants.”
“Aw, that sounds like something you could—”
“Just go,” Hank said. “I need to run to the butcher and a dozen other places for the missus and kids.”
“Fine.” Before Caleb said another word, the relief bartender was already stepping up to his spot. It was a little too early for the night rush to start, so Caleb decided to get this meeting over with. Besides, paying a visit to Champagne Charlie was never much of a chore.