Page 13 of Worst Hand Wins in Deadwood

He knows the risk I take every time I gamble. One of these times, it’s not going to go my way, and I’ll end up like Daddy. Would I be as distraught? Would I take my own life? Like he did? I’m so very much like Daddy in so many ways, would that be the solution I’d take?

I honestly have no idea. It’s something that gnaws at my gut every time I sit in on a high-stakes game. It’s only a matter of time. How dare Jason ask me to risk my sanity for his idiotic ideas.

Shoving all those horrible thoughts aside, I season my chicken breast and sauté it gently in a small pan. When it’s done, I slice it and slide it over spring mix greens, and sit down with a glass of white Zinfandel. Tomorrow, I should go to Spearfish, and talk to Blaze’s friend about trading Kiley. Chris has told me she needs a whole new engine and it’s not gonna be cheap. It’s ridiculous to put that much money into a car, I know, just to keep the carcass, but darnit, I love that old car. Momma loved that car. I miss momma with all my heart. How can I give her away just to have something else that has no emotional meaning to me whatsoever?

My mind flips to another burning issue. Kate. She doesn’t want to move from the home she is currently renting, but the landlord is selling the house. She doesn’t have the downpayment needed to get an FHA loan. I could so easily, well not so easily, but Icouldwin that for her.

Blaze mentioned he and his team had failed to find where the high-stakes games were being held. Perhaps tonight would be a good opportunity to meet up with Big Mike and chance it once again in order to help Kate make a down payment on her home. The memory of Kate’s morose attitude the last week, breaks my heart. If I can help, I should help.

There would probably not be a better chance to sit in a game and not have it raided. Blaze will probably get another lead soon, and be back at his all-night surveillances. He may even get ol’ Lady Luck on his side and figure out where things are happening.

“You available to take me to the tobacco company @ 11:45?” I text Kate.

“Sure,” she replies. That girl amazes me. She’s prompt and always available, even at night.

I clean up the dishes from my supper, set the alarm on my phone for eleven, and lay down. A little rest is better than no rest at all. And maybe while I rest, Lady Luck will hover over me and go with me when I meet up with Big Mike. If not, I won’t be able to help Kate, but I probably won’t be around to worry about it.

A huge sigh washes over me as I lay down. Come on Lady Luck… be a lady… as the crooners from long ago once sang. “Be a lady tonight.” I close my eyes.

My alarm rings, “You gotta know when to hold ‘em.” I roll out of bed and freshen my face and hair. Change into dark clothing and watch for Kate to arrive.

On time, as always, she pulls into my drive. I make my way down to her Bronco and crawl into the back seat.

“Thank… you.” I pant, and hand her the amount I know she wants to take me to Main Street where the tobacco company is.

While I wait for Big Mike, I perch on a stool. A slender gal, who is quiet as a mouse, waits behind the bar. “Can I get a cigar?”

“Of course.” Mousey gal moves into position to get my selection.

“Cool, I’ll have an Oliva Melania Maduro.”

She unlocks the glass door to the humidor and hands me the cigar. I give her my ATM card and she rings me up.

“Nice.” I say to myself as much as to her.

“May I get you a drink?” She smiles.

“Just water, but thank you.” I say politely. I never drink alcohol when I’m playing. I need my wits about me. She hands me a bottled water and moves back to her quiet position at the end of the bar.

How odd to have someone on duty after hours, but perhaps it’s for the midnight party down in the cellar.

It will take me an hour to smoke the cigar, so I put it in my backpack purse to wait until I’m in a game to light it. It’s funny how they are closed and yet, if anyone walks in after hours, they can still purchase anything while waiting for Big Mike.

The back door pops open and Big Mike slinks into the cigar lounge, looking around. He motions for me to come to him. I slip off the stool, tucking my bottled water in my backpack purse and slip it over my shoulder. He gives me a smile and a nod, then turns and leads the way down the back entrance to the cellar where several men are speaking quietly. Cards are shuffling, Chips are clicking as they are being stacked. Mike leads me to a basement bar where the rake is submitted.He hands me my chips. A thrill shoots through me like a sudden rush of adrenaline.

A game is about to begin.

Chapter Seven?

Mid-morning the next day, I’m standing at Blaze’s door, my hand poised to knock. But I just cannot do it. Jason’s words keep hounding me. “There’s gonna come a day when that car just cannot be fixed anymore.”

I know he’s not wrong. Blaze has said it, too. He even offered to take me to Spearfish where he bought his Gladiator. The guy who owns it is a friend of his. Surely a friend of a friend would cut me a descent deal on a new-to-me car.

I got in after four this morning and slept until ten. Blaze’s house looks like he’s been here the whole time. Why didn’t he go to work like most people at eight in the morning. He had mentioned his team had ran into a snag and called off the all-night surveillance. So why not return to day-time hours? It made no sense to me.

I glance back at my house, mostly at those horrible stairs. Would it be better to own up that I am willing to go to Spearfish with him rather than face climbing those stairs again? I lift my fist to knock

His door springs open before I touch knuckle to wood.

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