“Habit. Cowboys are used to hitting the saloons for some hell-raising every weekend. It took some arguing to get him to go only twice a month.”
“Were you a cowboy, or did you consider yourself a rancher because your family owns a ranch?”
“I herded cattle until the day I left home, so, yeah, either name applies.”
“Do you have a big family?”
“Felt like it, growing up with three brothers.”
One of Aunt Elizabeth’s pointers was that men liked to talk about themselves, so a lady could get in their good graces by asking them about themselves, but Morgan was providing only terse answers to her questions. Was he the exception that Elizabeth had never run into?
She tried again to find a subject he might want to talk about. “Why didn’t you like being a cowboy?”
“Never said I didn’t like it. Fact is, I loved ranching with my family. But there are other things I want to do now that I consider more important.”
He didn’t elaborate, and despite her curiosity, she recalled another of her aunt’s adages: never pry or become a nuisance when you ask a man about himself. So she referred back to his mention of poker. “You don’t get the urge to hit the saloons, as you say, like your friend?”
“I did until Sullivan found out about my silver and started hounding me to sell my mine. I stopped going places where he’d find me. I do my drinking here now, and if I feel like a game of poker, I’ll head up the hill. But it’s no fun playing with Tex. He loves the game, but he’s no good at bluffing or recognizing a bluff, so it’s like stealing money from him.”
“It’s complicated, that game?”
“No, but there are some nuances that make it more interesting. You play?”
He raised his brows, waiting for her answer, looking hopeful. She almost wished she could say yes. “Is it anything like whist?”
“Like what?”
“Never mind. Perhaps I’ll ask your friend to teach me how to play poker during his visit.”
He snorted. “If you really want to learn, you’ll ask me.”
She felt like smiling but didn’t. Was that a bit of jealousy, his not wanting anyone else teaching her something he could teach her? Or did he just want her to be good enough at the game to make it interesting for him? She almost laughed, guessing it was the latter.
“Maybe I will when you aren’t busy,” she said. “By the by, where is Bo? You don’t let him sleep in the house?”
Since the matter of her being protected while she searched for her father’s money hadn’t been resolved, she planned to search inside the fences today. Charles could have buried his money close to the house while Morgan was in one of the mines. And Bo might be able to help her find it if he knew how to follow a scent.
“He wanders a lot and is still young enough to want to chase anything that moves, even birds. He prefers sleeping under the house where he hides his bones. But he’s usually nearby at mealtime.”
“Would you mind if I invite him in?”
“Why?”
“Didn’t I mention I love dogs?”
“Pretty sure you only said you liked them. And it’s my turn for a question.”
“We’re taking turns?”
He ignored that and asked, “Why haven’t you demanded that a screen be put up between the beds?”
“D’you have one?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so. I can be pragmatic, you know, and not complain about what can’t be fixed—no matter how uncomfortable I might find it. Actually, sometimes I complain due to frustration, though with you, maybe a little more often.”
“Trying to make me feel special?”
