Jesse, the owner of the saloon, spotted Max and wandered over to him. “I hope you’re here about the poker table,” he said with a smile. “My customers have been complaining about it for months now. It sure could use an upgrade.”
“Let’s have a look,” Max responded, and downed the rest of his beer. They walked to the round table covered with tattered green felt. Three men sat around it.
“Boys, you’ll have to pause your game for a minute. Max needs to have a look at the table.”
The men stood and moved back. Max ran his hand across the top, then crouched and shook each of the red cedar legs. He stood. “You don’t need a new table, Jesse. This wood is solid. It’s just got some loose bolts, and the felt is bad. I’ll get the right cut of material from the seamstress and nail it in properly. I’ll also replace and tighten the bolts so the table doesn’t wobble anymore. That’s all that needs doing.”
Jesse thanked him, and Max joined the men in a quick game on the unsteady table. Two of the men, Sam and Tom, were ranch hands, and the other was a man with a reputation for being the town drunk, an affable older fellow by the name of Pete. Max dealt. As he fanned his cards in front of him, Sam spoke out loud the very subject on Max’s mind.
“You fellers catch a glimpse of the new schoolmarm? She sure is a looker.”
Max felt his muscles tense, and he suddenly couldn’t read the cards he was staring at.
Pete nodded. “She stays at the same boardinghouse as me, so I see her in passing. Nice gal.”
“Don’t much care about whether she’s nice,” Sam said, laughing. “Her nice rack is what I noticed.” The other two men joined him in laughter.
Max seethed at the casual mention of Charlotte’s body. He felt protective, which surprised him, and also possessive, which surprised him more. Neither were appropriate feelings, since she was far from being his to protect or possess.
Tom chortled and added his two cents. “It’s those highfalutin shakesters that are downright dirty when it comes to a roll in the hay. That’s been my experience, anyway.”
“Right,” Pete said, rolling his eyes. “I’m sure you have lots of experience bedding classy broads.”
“Raise,” Max said through gritted teeth, throwing another chip in the pile.
“What about you, Max?” Sam said. “You’ve been quiet on the subject of the schoolmarm.”
Max shrugged and feigned interest in his cards. “I fetched her from the train station in Arcadia when she arrived and brought her here. I like her well enough.”
Sam whistled. “All that time in the company of a right smart piece of calico, and all you’ve got to say is you like her well enough? The smoke from the forge must be addling your brain and softening your cock, blacksmith.”
Tom laughed loudly and slapped his palm on the table a few times.
Pete drew a card. “Maybe he’s sweet on her, and that’s why he don’t wanna talk about her,” he remarked wisely.
Max set his cards face up on the table. He couldn’t concentrate on the game and accepted defeat. “I’d prefer if my cock and the schoolmarm’s assets stayed clear out of your filthy mind, Sam. Good day, gentlemen.” He rose to his feet and walked away. “I use that term loosely,” he flung over his shoulder before he flung the saloon door open and strode outside. He heard the sound of the men’s laughter fade as the distance between him and the saloon grew.
Thanks to Sam, the image of Charlotte’s breasts under her wet shift entered his thoughts, suddenly making it very uncomfortable for him to walk. When she’d been suffering from heatstroke, he’d been too afraid she wouldn’t recover to spend any time studying her chest, but now he couldn’t help but think about the two glorious mounds, so ample and yet rebelliously perky, a fitting match to her rebellious personality. He groaned and tried to subdue his unwelcome lust. He needed to get the schoolmarm off his mind, and he wasn’t doing a very good job of it. When he wasn’t lusting after her body, he found himself worrying about how she was getting on in the new town on her own. He hoped she was doing better than his ex-wife had done.
Against his better judgment, he walked in the direction of the boardinghouse, hoping again to catch a glimpse of her. He didn’t intend to call on her, but he wanted to at least see her in passing. He thought if he could just do that, he might be put at ease and able to remove her from his thoughts. Her body language would provide a clue as to how she was faring in Weston, and that was his main concern.