Betting on Hope

Chapter 26



Tanner was cheating.

She thought she’d been prepared for the possibility, but the blind rage that swept over her when she saw him do it stole her breath and left her shaking. She wanted to lunge across the table and strangle him with her bare hands.

Just like Derek. He was just like Derek. A laughing, charming, handsome devil who’d run over your heart and steal your purse, and then leave you, bleeding and wounded, wondering what you’d done wrong when he got what he wanted and walked away.

How could she have been so stupid? Why did she fall for it? She’d known what would happen if she got mixed up with Tanner.

If she let him get away with it, he’d take the ranch—her life—from her. Just like Derek.

She didn’t know how to tell the other players. And she wasn’t sure that she should. No one else had noticed, so it would be her word against Tanner’s. And she didn’t want Big Julie to shut down the game, which he might do if he thought his “friendly” get-together had been infiltrated by a pro—a cheating pro. Shutting down the game was the last thing she wanted.

But she wanted Tanner to stop cheating. Before he stole her home out from under her.

The trick he was using wasn’t complicated. Derek had used the same technique—had taught her the same technique. When it was his turn to deal, Tanner gathered the cards, talking the whole time, flattering the winners and inflating their egos. But instead of bunching the cards into the deck randomly, he arranged them the way he wanted them—high cards at the bottom of the deck. That part was easy to spot.

The cheating riffle shuffle was easy to spot, too, if you were looking for it. Tanner held half the deck in each hand and caught the cards at their corners before pushing them together. Riffle shuffles, if done right, kept cards in the deck where the cheating dealer wanted them. Tanner left the face cards on the bottom of the deck. Just like Derek used to do.

Then came the hard part—at least it had been hard for her when Derek taught her the trick. When Tanner cut the cards, he had to palm the high cards from the bottom of the deck. She’d never been able to manage it, but Tanner’s hands were large, with broad palms and long, flexible fingers. Just as Derek had done, Tanner easily concealed the cards in his hand.

After the cut, he put the face cards at the bottom again. He dealt the pocket cards to all the other players legally, from the top, but he dealt the aces and kings to Big Julie from the bottom of the deck.

Simple to spot, if your father had shown you from childhood how to cheat at cards. Simple, if you knew what you were looking for.

There was only one thing that Hope hadn’t figured out. Derek had used this trick to augment his own game, increase his own winnings. Tanner used it to augment Big Julie’s.

Why would Tanner do that?

It was a mystery. Still, whether Tanner wanted to benefit himself or Big Julie didn’t matter. He was cheating. Either way, if he didn’t stop, she’d lose the ranch.

The first time she saw it, in the first round, on Tanner’s first deal, she was so outraged she hardly knew what to say. “Use a riffle shuffle much, Tanner?” she’d asked, raising her eyebrows pointedly at him. “You don’t see that very often anymore. Among pros. Honest pros, anyway.”

Tanner had laughed, glancing at her. “Well, I’m not a pro,” he’d emphasized. “So I don’t know much about fancy shuffles.”

Which made Tanner an habitual liar—also just like Derek.

She’d boiled as Big Julie had taken the pot with his pocket aces and the trip ace on the turn. Luck, everyone had called it, but she knew better. Tanner had handed Big Julie that pot. Twenty minutes later, when Tanner was dealing on the second round, she said something again. How else could she make Tanner stop? Only by letting him know that she saw what he was doing. That she knew. He’d been culling the cards after the last showdown, gathering the high cards together unobtrusively while he talked, diverting everyone’s attention.

“You must play a lot of cards,” she said, trying to sound admiring. “You’ve got the patter of a con artist.”

She’d gone a little too far. The other players stilled at her words—her fighting words.

“Well, listen to the little lady,” Bobby Stackhouse said finally into the silence. “You looking for a way to explain your losses to your boyfriend, sweetheart?”

Everybody laughed except Hope, who gritted her teeth over the insult. As if she had to explain her losses to anyone! As if she weren’t beating Stackhouse by a margin of three to one.

“She probably just hasn’t lost much before,” Tanner said, putting the face cards on the bottom of the deck while everyone looked at her. “She’s so pretty, all the men probably let her win.”

Everyone laughed again, harder this time. So now Tanner wasn’t only cheating on her, he was laughing at her, too? No, she definitely didn’t want Tanner to get into trouble with these players. She wanted him drawn, quartered, and hung out to dry, and she wanted to do it herself. She’d like to stuff those planted trip aces down his throat, right now, while she showed these braggarts what a real riffle shuffle looked like.

But after that attempt to make him stop, she’d shut up. She’d told Tanner as directly as she could what she’d seen. He’d gotten the message—she knew he had because he’d glanced at her, his own eyebrows raised—but he hadn’t stopped palming the cards.

Trying to circumvent the cheating was exhausting. She couldn’t think only about how to play her best game. She had to think how Tanner was skewing the cards for Big Julie, and how he might skew them because he knew her style of play. She had to shift her strategies constantly, trying new things to keep him off balance. Because although Tanner had helped her get to Big Julie’s table, now that she was sitting here, he was doing his best to wipe her out. He wanted her to lose.

She would not give up without a fight. She would not give in to his sleazy, dirty, underhanded—not to mention illegal—tactics.

Because if she lost, everything she’d worked for—not just this last week, but for the last ten years—would be for nothing. She would lose the ranch. Her family would have to start over. And that would be Tanner’s fault. Because he cheated her out of it.

How could he do this to her? Had this afternoon meant nothing to him? Did she mean nothing to him?

Evidently not. And if she meant nothing to him, he had to mean nothing to her, too.

All she could do—and that was quite a lot—was play her best. If she could push Tanner out of the game, it would be just her and Big Julie, playing for the ranch. Playing honestly, if Tanner were out of the picture.

A big if. But not impossible. Even the best card players—even pros—had bad days, bad hands, and bad deals. She had to play her best so she could stay in the game and hope that she would have the skill or the luck to beat him or that Tanner would have a bad break and go down.

The game went on. One by one the other players lost their stakes and dropped out. Four hours into the game, when Hope’s back ached and her eyes burned with fatigue, only she, Tanner, and Big Julie were left.

“You play a hell of a game,” Big Julie said to Hope as he got up and stretched. “They told me you did, and they was right.”

“Thank you,” Hope said as she stifled a yawn, thinking, you have no idea. She was playing brilliantly. If Tanner weren’t cheating, she might have won by now.

“Yes, you’re playing very well.” Tanner glanced at her, his eyes unreadable. She felt a new surge of anger—she was running out of steam but she didn’t seem to be running out of fury—and she glared back, her eyes narrowing, even as she watched him gather the cards from the last hand, putting all the high cards on the bottom. It was Tanner’s deal. Another hand about to go to Big Julie. Well, at least Tanner did have a real idea of how well she was playing.

“You play very creatively,” she said, looking at him deliberately and then at his hands. “You intend to play this hand with as much—gusto—as you’ve played all the others?”

Tanner frowned at her quickly. “I just play the cards I’m dealt, like everybody else.” His voice had a sharper edge than usual.

“Hey no need to get testy,” Big Julie said. “We’re just playing a friendly game here. I want something to drink, do you guys want something? Drake!”

Drake appeared silently in the doorway. “Bring us some drinks,” Big Julie said. “Coffee for the lady, right sweetheart? And bring us some a them little cocktail wienies!”

“Better make it mineral water,” Hope said. “I’ve had so much coffee, any more would make my hands shake.”

“Can’t have that, now, can we?” Big Julie asked jovially, helping himself to a sandwich.

“It would be especially bad if the dealer’s hands shook,” Hope said pointedly, looking at Tanner. “That might reveal something.” Tanner never glanced up as he shuffled, that deceptive riffle shuffle, and put the deck down in front of Big Julie.

Big Julie took a huge bite out of his sandwich and cut the cards, slamming the cut down on the table, winking at her as he did so.

Hope watched in exhausted anger as Tanner palmed the cards during the cut. He is stealing the ranch from me, she thought. Right now, this minute, he’s stealing it from Faith, from mom, from Amber. Hand by hand in this crooked card game, he is stealing our home and our livelihood. We’ll never get it back, everything we have will be gone forever, because of what he’s doing right now.

She wondered if Tanner’s cheating was more elaborate than she guessed—if Tanner was dealing not just ace pairs to Big Julie, but had dealt all the cards he wanted to the other players. She knew there were card mechanics—cons, grifters, magicians—who could do this. Derek had not been that skilled, although he’d taught her what to watch for. She hadn’t spotted Tanner doing it, however.

She was a little further behind now. Big Julie had eight hundred thousand dollars in chips, Tanner had seven hundred thousand, and she had five hundred thousand. Not bad, all things considered. But players with poor chip counts had less flexibility to bet, less room to maneuver. She either had to win big and win soon, or she’d be out. If nothing changed, her chip count would just be whittled away slowly over time. Tanner would see to that.

Tanner dealt the cards, top-of-the-deck cards to himself and her, bottom-of-the-deck cards to Big Julie. Hope watched her opponents as they picked up their hands. Big Julie’s eyes opened a little wider, so he had a good hand. Tanner’s face, as always, remained impassive.

Hope glanced at her own cards. Ace, jack. Not bad, but it wasn’t the best hand, and she wasn’t in the best betting position. She called.

“Let’s make it interesting,” Big Julie said. And he dropped the deed to the ranch on the table.

Hope’s heart lurched in her chest. Sure—now, when she had the least maneuverability, the ranch came up.

Still, there it was. Her home. Lying there on the table. Hers for the winning. She could feel herself staring at it. It was so close. So tantalizingly close.

This is why she’d come. This is why she’d played for four hours, against these terrible odds and Tanner’s cheating. All her play for the last week had come down to this one hand. It was now or never.

Could she rake it in? Could she win it—and her family’s security, Faith’s business, all of it—could she get it for them? For herself? Was she good enough? Was she smart enough?

Could she outwit Tanner at his own game and win it?

Tanner folded.

Why did he do that? He really didn’t have the cards? Or did he want the showdown over the ranch to be just between her and Big Julie? Hope glanced at Tanner quickly, and saw that he’d been looking at her. His eyes, however, were unreadable.

The perfect poker player. Then he glanced away, toward the floor. Not at her. She had no way of knowing what he was thinking.

Hope considered her options. She needed to play smart, but if ever there was a time to take a risk, this was it. This was the hand she had to win.

How could she do it?

Tanner had dealt the hand, so Big Julie had good cards. The question was, how good?

Should she tell Big Julie that Tanner was cheating? If she wanted Tanner out of the game for good, now would be the moment to expose him. If Big Julie threw Tanner out of the game, at least the game would be fair. And a fair game would be her best shot at winning the ranch back.

She’d be taking a big risk. Big Julie might just end the game entirely, and she’d lose any chance of winning the ranch back, ever. What were the odds of that? Probably about even.

Tanner, of course, would be furious. Not that she cared. Cheaters deserved no one’s mercy.

But if she wanted a fair game—and a decent shot at winning the ranch—she should tell Big Julie. She couldn’t let Tanner just steal it from her without a fight. And now was the time. Now when the ranch was on the table. Now or never.

She’d do it. She’d tell Big Julie that Tanner was cheating. She took a deep breath.

“Big Julie, I have to tell you something,” she said. The cheating must stop. I can’t let Tanner take the ranch away from me. And this is the only way I can stop him.

Tanner glanced up. His eyes flared, but Hope was too tired—and too angry—to care what he thought. She looked away as Drake came into the room carrying a tray of full glasses.

“You may not realize this,” she began, as Drake served her a mineral water with lime. When the bodyguard stretched over the table to serve Big Julie, his coat parted, revealing a gun in the waistband of his slacks.

Hope swallowed. A gun. At this “friendly” poker game.

She hadn’t thought about guns. If she ratted out Tanner to Big Julie, what would happen to him? Big Julie was in the mafia. They thought nothing of killing their enemies.

She didn’t want the mafia to kill Tanner. Not until she could kill him herself.

Because—Tanner.

Her mind flooded with images of the afternoon. The hot, sweet, afternoon. She looked across the table at him, at the hands that held his cards. And thought about how graceful and compelling his hands could be, how they could entice. They were helpful hands, too. He’d brought hamburgers to the hospital and called Troy to bead Amber’s hair and got Faith’s truck back.

Hope felt poised at the brink of a precipice. She was so angry at Tanner right now that she wasn’t sure she could think straight. She never wanted to see him again. She never wanted to talk to him or go out with him or have anything to do with him. He was too slick, too glib, too polished, and too charming. He could con the diamonds off a red ace.

But she didn’t want him to be killed, either. Nobody should be killed for a piece of property, not even the ranch. Not even Tanner, the rat. The lying, cheating, scum-sucking, card-playing rat bastard.

No matter how angry she was. No matter how devastated. Not even when everything she had was at stake. Not even when he’d put her in this terrible situation.

He’d left her with impossible choices. Lose-lose choices. Either she ratted Tanner out to Big Julie, which could result in the end of the game or the end of Tanner’s life. Or she could stay silent, which would result in the loss of the ranch, the failure of Faith’s farm, and the sale of her horses.

“What?” Big Julie demanded impatiently. “What don’t I realize?”

Hope hesitated.

“Just how tired I am of mineral water,” she said finally, trying to sound normal. “Drake, could I please get a glass of wine instead? You can water that ficus with the mineral water.”

“Not the ficus,” Tanner said urgently, and all heads turned to him.

“Not the ficus,” he said again firmly. “Water something else. Ficus trees are too sensitive for fizzy water.”

“I think there’s a service that comes in to water the plants,” Drake said, shaking his head as he picked up Hope’s mineral water and left the room.

“Who cares about the damn bushes in here?” Big Julie said. “Play cards.”

It was Hope’s play, and it was now or never for the ranch.

She pushed all her chips in to the center of the table. A half-million dollars’ worth.

“All in,” she said.

Five hundred thousand dollars, and I’m playing like it’s chump change, Hope thought. Well, she might as well treat her chips like chump change. She’d either lose it all slowly, or she’d lose it fast, in this one hand.

Or—just possibly—she’d win the ranch.

In her peripheral vision, she saw Tanner watch her, but she kept her eyes on the table.

“Pretty confident,” Big Julie said.

“All or nothing, that’s me,” Hope said.

With the betting concluded, Hope and Big Julie turned their cards over. Hope showed her ace, jack. Big Julie showed his ace, nine.

Shocked, Hope stared at the cards. Big Julie bet a two-million-dollar ranch on an ace, nine pair? What was the matter with him? That hand sucked.

A small wave of optimism rushed through her. Her pocket cards were stronger. So far she was ahead. Tanner might have tried to give Big Julie two aces, but he’d only managed one, paired with a nine. Was that a mistake?

Tanner, out of the game but still acting as dealer, turned over the flop. It was ace, six, eight. Now Hope had a pair of aces with a jack kicker. Big Julie had a pair of aces with a nine kicker. Hope’s hand was still stronger. Her breathing quickened as she realized that the ranch was within her grasp. She could win this hand. She could win it all. On a hand that Tanner dealt.

The turn brought up another six. So now Hope had two pair: aces and the sixes on the board. Big Julie had two pair, as well, the aces with the sixes, but Hope still held the jack, and Big Julie had only the nine. Hope still held the winning hand.

She heard her heart pound. She was almost there! Only one more card to play. One more card and the ranch could be hers. She could do this! She could win the ranch from Big Julie!

What were the odds?

There was a chance—an almost nonexistent chance—that Big Julie could win the pot on the river. Only one card could give him a win. He’d need a nine, which would give him two pair—aces and nines. That would beat Hope’s aces and sixes. What were the odds? Very slim. Almost impossible.

Another possibility, still slim, was that if the river was higher than her jack—a queen or king—she and Big Julie would have to split the pot. She didn’t know how they’d do that.

If the card was anything else, the ranch could be hers. Would be hers. A rush of certainty, of optimism, swept through her. She could win. She felt it in her bones, down to her toes. This hand was hers.

Tanner turned over the river.

It was a nine.

Big Julie won the hand.

Hope felt a heavy punch to her chest, a blow so heavy that couldn’t breathe. She felt dizzy, and her ears hummed.

She’d lost the ranch.

The ranch was gone.

Forever.

She’d lost.

She’d let her family down. She’d lost everything her family loved in life. On that one turn of the card.

She’d lost five hundred thousand dollars in one hand in a private card party. Just like Derek used to do. Thinking she’d win, just like Derek used to do.

Her stomach heaved, clenching so tight that she thought that she’d throw up right there. Or that the wave of fierce contractions in her belly would force out the tears from her eyes.

She couldn’t—she wouldn’t—cry in front of these men. She bit her lip, struggling for control.

She felt bitter and angry and very, very tired. She might have lost to Big Julie in a fair game, she’d never know now. But she’d had no chance at all in a stacked game with Tanner at the table. It was over.

Everything was over.

If she could move. Her legs felt as heavy as concrete pillars.

“Sorry, little miss all-or-nothing,” Big Julie chortled as he raked in the chips and took back the deed to the ranch. “What you got is a whole lotta nothing.”

And it’s always fun to play with a generous winner, too.

Hope focused her mind, willing herself to stand, and pushed herself to her feet. She felt defeated. Lost.

“Thanks for the game, Mr. Saladino,” she said, picking up her purse. “I appreciate the opportunity.”

“Why you rushin’ off so fast?” Big Julie asked expansively. “Stick around. Finish your drink.”

“Thanks, but it’s late and I have to go.”

She left the table, holding herself stiffly, keeping herself in check. Tears blurred her vision as she headed for the front door. She had to get out of here.

“She shouldn’t play if she can’t lose,” she heard Big Julie say behind her, and then she heard footsteps coming after her.

“Hope!” Tanner called, but his voice gave her the impetus to quicken her pace, heading toward the foyer, fleeing from him and the game and the ruins of her life. Flinging open the door of the suite, she stepped out into the hallway and fled to the elevator, stabbing the call button repeatedly.

The elevator took too long, and Hope’s heart pounded as Tanner came out of the suite and strode toward her. What did he want? He hadn’t done enough, now he wanted something more?

“Hope,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

She turned her back on him and punched the elevator button again.

He came up behind her and reached for her arm.

“Don’t touch me,” she hissed, jerking her arm away. “Get away from me.”

Tanner stepped back as though he’d been slapped. “Hope, honey, I’m sorry, you got a bad beat just now, but you weren’t going to win tonight.”

She looked at him, feeling all the weight of her anger and loss. The ranch, yes. That was gone forever. But Tanner, too. She couldn’t afford to love another selfish, lying, cheating, cardplayer. She couldn’t afford to live with that much uncertainty and pain.

She’d known better, too. She just hadn’t listened to her own instincts.

“Was it a bad beat?” she asked, her face impassive, wondering if he’d lie and if she’d know if he were. “Or did you bring up that river card on purpose?”

Tanner glanced away. For a second he said nothing, and Hope had her answer.

Where was that elevator? Any time now would be good.

“I had to,” he said finally. He looked around to make sure Drake or Big Julie weren’t listening. “And—by the way—thank you for not saying anything. Listen—”

“No, you listen.” Hope held up a hand to stop him. “Go away, Tanner. Go back to the card game. Go get what you came for. Just—go away.”

“Hope, I meant what I said, we can figure something out. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Finally the elevator, and not a minute too soon. Hope stepped into it and hit the button for the lobby.

“There is nothing to figure out,” she said as the doors closed. “Didn’t you hear me? The ranch is gone, Tanner. The game’s over. Don’t call me tomorrow. Don’t call me ever again.”