Page 54 of Native Hawk
“Jenny’s yours,” Miss Hattie agreed, “long as you can pay.”
He shoved four silver dollars in her direction. She picked them up and dropped them into the top of her dress.
Then the man shuffled the cards one last time and dealt.
The three men weren’t difficult opponents.
The one chewing tobacco was careless with his cards. Every time he turned to use the spittoon, he gave Drew a good look at his hand.
The grizzled giant had a very bad poker face, and it got worse as he drank.
The man with the broken nose had a temper, which made him play badly. He punched the table every time he lost. By the time the whiskey was half gone, he’d lost so many times that one of his knuckles was bleeding.
Drew nursed his drink and cast an occasional glance at the balcony, hoping to see the prize that awaited him if he won enough hands.
It was around the time his winnings had increased to sixteen dollars that the trouble started.
“You got to be cheatin’,” the grizzled drunk said as he threw his losing cards into the middle of the table.
“Not me,” said Drew.
The second man, who’d already folded, moved his wad of chewing tobacco into his cheek. “Maybeyou’rejust a sore loser.”
The drunk glared at the tobacco chewer. They both jumped when the broken-nosed player banged his fist on the table, leaving a bloodstain on the three of diamonds.
“New deck!” he yelled at no one in particular.
Miss Hattie came over quickly, producing a fresh deck of cards. “Trouble, gentlemen?”
“He’s cheatin’,” the drunk complained, yanking his thumb in Drew’s direction.
“Who, Mr. Hawk here?” she asked. “Naw, I think he’s a straight-shooter. But mind you, don’t get your stash down too low. If your luck don’t change, you’re gonna want a little consolation.”
“I’m not gonna lose,” the drunk declared, “now that we have a clean deck.”
“Tell you what,” scheming Miss Hattie said. “Why don’t you reserve your entertainment now, like this gentleman did?” She motioned to the man with the broken nose. “Then you can celebrate your winnin’ with the lady…or ladies…of your choice.”
“Ladies?” The drunk gave her a stupid grin, as if that had never occurred to him. “How much for two ladies?”
“Well, Anne and Emily, they’re a nice pair. For ten dollars, you can have ’em both.”
“Ten dollars?” The drunk tried to count his money four times and failed.
“Looks like you’re just a bit shy o’ resources,” Miss Hattie said. “But maybe if you win this next hand…”
“I’m gonna win it,” he decided.
The tobacco chewer barked out a laugh.
The broken-nosed man shuffled the cards. Drew thought if anyone was marking cards, it would be him—the man with the bloody knuckles.
At any rate, Drew supposed he should make a point of losing a few rounds, just to keep the peace, even if he was impatient to lay claim to Cat for the evening.
Then he picked up his hand. The man had dealt him three kings…before the draw. He couldn’t believe his luck. He couldn’t possibly fold now, not with three kings. It would be a disgrace to the game of poker.
