Texas Rose

chapter 37

With a gun at his back, Tyler could do little more than offer his enemy a sardonic grin. "Well, well, Dorset, did you miss me so much you had to come find me?"

Dorset's face was a little more lined than when he had seen him last, and the glitter in his eyes wasn't amusement. Tyler thought the other man looked like he'd been rode hard and put up wet. As a gambling man, he knew when his opponent had reached the point of desperation. He'd say Dorset had reached it and gone past.

"I don't know what you do with card cheats and thieves in this town, Sheriff, but I want the book thrown at him." Dorset signed the remaining paper on the desk with a flourish. "He's probably still carrying that watch he stole from me in his pocket. Pretty little thing, it is, with a picture of my mama in a fancy pink gown inside. I'd like it back, Sheriff."

Powell pulled the watch from Tyler's vest pocket and snapped it open. The picture was just as the man had said. He prodded Tyler with a gun. "And I bet you told your poor wife this was your mother, didn't you? Damn, but you almost had me believing you. Get in there." He shoved him toward the cell.

"It is my mother, Powell." Tyler didn't budge. His younger self would have been sweating with desperation about now, ready to unleash the beast that crawled in his guts, but he was cooler and calmer than he'd ever been in his life. He wouldn't let Evie be branded a thief or the wife of one. He wouldn't bring shame to the small family under his protection. He was damned well going to do something right for once in his life.

Without warning, he turned and snatched the gun from the sheriff's hand. Powell tended to be a little slow on the uptake.

Emptying the bullets from the gun, Tyler gave it back to the furious man behind the badge. "Telegraph the sheriff in Natchez. Make inquiries about both of us. See which one of us has the longer record. Dorset there is one of those Yankee carpetbaggers who came down to nab every ripe plum on the market. He swiped my family's plantation and everything in it, including that watch. There's plenty back in Natchez who will tell you the story."

Dorset stood up and rested his fists against the desk. "I bought that plantation fair and square. You're the cheat who stole the money I needed to run it." He turned to the sheriff. "You ever tried to plant cotton or run a plantation without cash, Sheriff? Those damned niggers don't work for nothin' no more. I want Monteigne and his shill locked up until they're old and gray. And I want my money back."

Powell gave both men a look of disgust, but he reserved his worst epithets for the stranger. "I'm from Texas, mister. If I'd known what you were when you walked in here, I would have bounced you out before I listened to your sorry tale. I've seen enough of your kind to last me a lifetime and then some. You come whining when you get treated the same way you treated us."

The sheriff gave Tyler a shrewd look as he reloaded his gun. "Tom over at the saloon's been complainin' about you, too. Maybe we ought to settle this the Texas way. I'll send those telegrams right enough, but I think we all ought to mosey over to the Red Eye. A good game of cards ought to answer the question without having to call in any judge."

Dorset fumed, but Tyler accepted the decision with a curt nod. He just hoped Daniel and Ben had found the boys and got them home to Evie so she wouldn't be worrying. There was no reason she ought to hear about any of this until it was all over.

* * *

Daniel and Ben had their hands tied and weren't going to be telling Evie anything any time soon.

Ben looked disgusted as he struggled with the rope wrapped around his wrists and ankles and tied in between. The bastards had done a thorough job for a change. There wasn't a chance in hell of getting out of this one.

"There might be a knife or something sharp farther down the tunnel." Daniel rolled into a sitting position and tried to see beyond the circle of light from the lantern beside them.

"Well, you'd better look quick. They had so much fun making a birthday present out of me, they're bound to come back to finish the job on you." Ben threw the two silent boys at the edge of the light a quick look. Bound as tightly as he, they looked terrified, but they hadn't said a word since he and Daniel had been thrown down to join them.

"I'm a cripple, remember? They won't be worried about me." Daniel's reply was bitter as he scooted carefully toward the darkness. "A cripple, a nigger, and two babes. I'm sure they're just as worried as can be."

"I'm not a babe." Jose was the only one to protest this assessment of their predicament.

"And Daniel's not a cripple. And just because Ben's a different color doesn't mean he's not a man. That's what Evie says. We're better than stupid crooks. We'll get out of here." Manuel spoke for the first time. His eyes were wider than saucers in the darkness, but his small face was set with determination. He began struggling with his brother's ropes from behind.

Ben chuckled. "You boys got spunk but not a whole lot of sense. Why didn't you tell the sheriff about what was going on in here?"

Manuel shrugged and kept working the ropes. "He don't listen to us. We're greasers. That's like being a nigger, isn't it?"

"I think you need to listen to Miss Evie a little closer." Muttering beneath his breath and working at his bonds, Ben kept an eye on Daniel, who was inching farther into the tunnel beneath the stable. They were in a hell of a fix, but he wasn't about to contaminate the boys with that knowledge.

"We were going to catch the thieves ourselves." Manuel said as if Ben hadn't interrupted. "Tom stole the livery from us. That's what Mama said. And he's stealing from people like Logan. And I bet anything, he's the one who's running the gang stealing from the stagecoach."

Considering the looks of the thugs that had caught them and put them down here, Ben wasn't willing to take that wager. He'd seen them coming and going from this hiding place. He'd reported it to Tyler. Tyler would know where they were. He just had to hope that Tyler would notice they were missing before the criminals decided to rid themselves of any witnesses.

"There's crates back here," Daniel called. "I don't know what's in these others, but there's sticks of dynamite in this open one."

"Well, I'm not about to blast ourselves out of these ropes. A crate of knives would be more useful."

Daniel disappeared into the darkness of the interior. Someone in the stable overhead slammed a boot against the trap door in the floor and yelled at them to shut up or they'd shut them up. Ben grimaced but quit talking. He didn't want to do anything that would bring anyone down here just yet.

He was afraid the boy was hurting his leg by moving around like that, but Daniel was the only one with freedom to move. The young ones were tied together, and he was bent backward so he couldn't even sit up. Ben wondered what kind of minds thought up positions like this.

Daniel slid back excitedly, a grin beaming from ear to ear. As he entered the lamplight, he turned around, revealing a sharp piece of metal caught between his bound hands. "Let's get busy. I got an idea on how to get out of here if we can cut these ropes off."

Ben didn't know how anyone could get two kids and a cripple past the passel of ruffians above, but he wasn't one to sit around and mope, either. He took the sharp edge and began to saw at Daniel's ropes.

* * *

Tyler folded his cards and laid them face down on the table, waiting for Dorset to shuffle through his own hand and make the wager. On his right, Tom was nervously sorting through his draw. Tom was half drunk and jittery as a skunk at midnight, and the nagging sense of ill-ease Tyler had had all night multiplied. He'd thought Dorset had been behind the feeling, but something nagged at the back of his mind when he didn't need the distraction. He needed to settle the sheriff's idea of fair play and get back to Evie.

As the other men laid their bets, Tyler glanced up at the crowd around him. Peyton, Harding, and Logan were still here, watching the game with drunken interest. There hadn't been any sign of Daniel or Ben. Maybe they were back at the house. Maybe they weren't. The only two things keeping him here instead of running to see how Evie fared was the gun in the sheriff's hand and Tom sitting at the table with him. If anything was happening at the livery, Tom wouldn't be here.

Tyler threw in a gold coin against Dorset's voucher and Tom's greenback. This wasn't a game he could win. Dorset had only one thing that he wanted, and Tom had nothing. If Tyler won, he won nothing but the sheriff's suspicion. If he lost, he might be free, but he would still have nothing. He didn't like the terms of this game.

He finally caught Jace's eye, and the big man wandered over, a little the worse for drink but more sober than the other two.

"Go see if Evie and the kids are all right. The boys were missing earlier, and she was worried about them."

Jason watched the fancy gambler at the card table, his fingers expertly sorting his cards beneath the frill of his shirtsleeves, his eyes never leaving the other players as he spoke. He gave a snort of contempt. "What do you care?"

The only sign of anger in Tyler's expression was a slight tightening of his jaw. "Just do what I ask, or have Peyton do it. If anything happens to me, he's the one who has to look after them."

Jason gave the sheriff standing close behind Tyler a second look, and enlightenment dawned. Through the haze of liquor, he sensed the tension. He turned wordlessly and went back to the men at the bar.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tyler saw Peyton slip out. Jason remained by the bar, but his expression had gone from complacent to wary. He would be a good man to have on his side. Tyler just hoped that was where the rancher meant to be when the aces fell.

The vouchers in front of Tyler began to grow. Without his cronies to help him cheat, Dorset was at a disadvantage. Tyler was all too aware that he was the only man at the table without a gun. Only the sheriff's presence was holding off the inevitable confrontation. Tyler knew better than to play with desperate men. On his own, he would have walked away long since. With the sheriff at his back, he kept playing.

Peyton returned and whispered to his companions. Tyler wished he could hear what they were saying but Harding's worried expression told him enough. Something was wrong back at the house. Tyler almost missed the card that Tom played.

To hell with what the sheriff thought. He had to bring this game to an end. Spreading out his hand containing three deuces, Tyler snatched Dorset's voucher from the pot and deliberately began adding up the sum owed to him.

"Three thousand dollars, Dorset. That's more than I owed in back taxes when you stole my plantation. What are you planning on putting up as collateral?" Tyler tucked the vouchers into his coat pocket.

"The night's not over, Monteigne. You're cheating. I damned well know you are. Nobody's that lucky. We're staying right here until the sheriff catches you at it."

"I'm not lucky, I'm good." Tyler swept up the greenbacks on the table and counted them. "Tom, you're about cleaned out. You sure you want to keep this up? Have you got any more saloons you want to get rid of? How about the livery? My wife's cousins are mighty fond of that stable. Maybe you want to lose that, too?"

"Shut up, fancy boy, and play. We're sitting right here until you start losing or someone puts a hole through your head." Tom grabbed the deck and began shuffling. The livery owner's hands were shaking as he dealt the cards. That wasn't a good sign. Tyler turned and lifted an inquisitive eyebrow at the sheriff. "Do I have to cheat to end this game?"

"The man's right, nobody's that lucky." Powell yelled at the bartender, "Bring us a fresh deck, Fred." He took a seat at the table. "I'll deal." He swept the old cards off the table and broke open the new pack.

Frustrated and fuming, Tyler sat back and accepted the new set of cards thrown his way. Peyton eased in behind him. Tyler didn't want to be accused of cheating, but he had to know what was happening. Feigning nonchalance, he leaned back in his chair to hear what Peyton had to say.

"Evie's gone with that duded-up lawyer out to Harding's place. The boys are still missing," Peyton whispered as if he were talking to the man beside him.

Evie with Hale. Fear boiled up inside Tyler. Hale had Evie's money. He knew it in his bones. He knew this was what it was all about. Hale had Evie's money, and now he had Evie. He had to get out of here.

The cards Powell gave him were worthless. He could discard the entire hand and not lose by it. Not giving any sign that he'd heard a word Peyton said, Tyler shoved a stack of greenbacks into the center of the table. "No more vouchers, Dorset. Put up the Ridge or you're out."

"You can't do this." Dorset looked to the sheriff for confirmation.

The sheriff glanced over his own hand. "I've got a family at home, boy. I'm ready to get out of here. Put up the cash or the collateral." He glanced up at Tom. "That goes for you, too."

The sheriff obviously had a good hand. Another time, Tyler would have been amused. As it was, he didn't care what happened. Hang the Ridge. Hang Dorset and the sheriff and the livery. He wanted out of here.

Without discarding, Tyler matched the bets and called their hands. Glaring at him, Dorset threw in the heavy packet of papers in his coat pocket. With the livery deed already in the pot, Tom folded and sat back to wait the outcome. The sheriff reluctantly parted with a stack of coins and paper and added it to the collection. He wasn't much of a gambling man, Tyler recognized. Whatever cards Powell held, he wouldn't play deep.

Pushing his opponents to the edge, Tyler threw out another stack of coins and raised the ante once again.

Roaring, Dorset predictably came to his feet and went for his gun. 'You're bluffing, you bastard! You can't win every time. Show the damned cards."

Hands grabbed him from behind, removing the gun while Dorset struggled. Tyler merely sat back, tipped his hat back on his head, and waited.

"That's the way the game's played, Dorset. You can't control the cards like you can a military government. Either meet the wager or fold."

"I'm going to kill you!" Dorset shouted, trying to shrug off his apprehenders.

The sheriff threw in his coins. "Meet the wager or fold, Dorset."

Dorset howled. "He's cheating! Can't you see he's cheating? I'll not let him have everything, damn you!"

The sheriff looked at his own cards and shrugged. "I never saw a cheat allow me cards like these. And if you're accusing me of cheating, I'll have you locked up until your veins bleed dust."

Tyler smiled slightly and added the rest of his winnings to the pot. "I'll see your hand, Sheriff. Or do you want to accuse me, too?"

Powell studied him. The pot in the center of the table was rich, too rich for a sheriff's salary. Tyler could read his expression like a book, knew what Powell was thinking. The amount he needed to match Tyler's call would be about as much as he had in his pocket. The sheriff had a good hand, but he was having a hard time coming to grips with a gambler who could be so lucky as to have a hand to beat all the cards on the table without even making a draw. Powell had to decide whether to call Tyler's bluff, and Tyler wasn't even breaking a sweat.

Swearing, the sheriff threw in his hand, too. The crowd around them roared as Tyler swept up his winnings. Tom swallowed another jigger of whiskey and slid under the table. Dorset had to be forcibly restrained as Tyler stood up. "Can I go now, Sheriff?" he asked pleasantly, throwing his cards facedown on the table.

The sheriff reached over and turned the cards up. A deuce, a four, a seven, and two face cards of different suits. Nothing. Cursing, he glared. "You are good, aren't you?"

"Damned good, Sheriff. And I'm keeping a lady waiting. If you'll excuse me?"

Tucking the deed to the Ridge into his coat pocket, Tyler strolled toward the door, aware that half a dozen men were following him out. He ought to have joy and triumph racing through his blood. He felt only fear. He needed to find Evie.

* * *

"Daniel, if you're not careful with that, you'll blow us all to kingdom come," Ben warned as the boy grasped the stick of dynamite in his fist and pounded on the trapdoor with his other hand. They'd sawed through their ropes. Now, they had to get past guards with guns.

"Just keep the lantern ready," Daniel whispered. "Wielding these crutches has given me a damned good throwing arm. If they don't scram, I can throw this thing right into the street. All we've got to do is duck and be ready to run."

As their yells brought the trapdoor open, Ben held up the lantern and Daniel pointed his dynamite at their captors. "Run, or I'll blow you to hell," he threatened.

Daniel had been right. The guards hadn't believed a cripple and nigger could escape. At their captors sneers, Daniel lit the fuse, flung it upward and out as far as he could, and covered his head while Ben leapt to cover the boys.

The sneering guards screamed and ran as the dynamite exploded behind bales of hay. Fire flickered instantly.

"Now you've done it," Ben murmured, reaching for the youngest and throwing him upward to safety.

They scrambled out of the tunnel and hit the floor running.

Coming out of the saloon, Tyler watched in amazement as the livery he had just won shook with a solid boom. Moments later, flames lit the night sky.

Silhouetted against the fire, dark figures dashed from the interior like rats from a sinking ship. Before he could recognize the small shapes of the boys or Daniel's awkward gait, a rumbling began in the earth beneath them.

A hissing followed the rumbling, and smoke began to leak from cracks forming in the street. Tyler recognized Ben, recognized the way the tall man threw himself beneath the overhang of the porch, carrying two small boys with him. With a swift intake of breath, Tyler ran to grab the dark shape struggling to run with a crutch, and jerked him into the protection of the overhang just as the explosion hit.

Fire leapt briefly from the stable door, then sucked inward with a great whoosh from the force of the explosion. The dusty street slowly collapsed straight down the middle.

Uncovering his head, Daniel peered out from beneath Tyler to the cave-in crumbling the clay between the livery and the bank.

"Damn, but I should have known that's where it went!"

Tyler gave the boy an incredulous look, stood up, and shaking his head at the wonders of nature, began running to the little house standing untouched behind the partially demolished livery.