I peel open my wallet and swallow a knot in my throat. I’d better do some winning if I’m going to make this back and then some. Otherwise, I’ll be begging on the streets for food.
I toss my fifty into the middle of the table. “I’m in.”
Two hands in, and I’m up. I don’t even feel guilty about it. The guys are nice, and they don’t treat me like I’m a fragile rich boy.
The bar, even for all the stuffed bucks and coyotes on the walls, is beginning to grow on me.
Ron’s about to deal the next round when the front door opens. “Well, well, well. So this is what happened to poker night.”
The three men around the table freeze. In unison, they slowly turn their heads.
A guy with thick, dark hair and a well-oiled beard rolls up the sleeves of his white shirt.
“And here I thought y’all had given it up.”
He swaggers over, grabs a chair from a nearby table. Its feet scrape across the floor as he pulls it up to us and wedges it between Isaac and McCauley.
When neither man moves, he growls, “What gives? Y’all not letting your friend Luke play?”
If I’d had any doubts before about his identity, they’re gone now.
“Sure thing,” Isaac says, scooting over. McCauley moves slower, sliding the chair inch by inch.
Luke’s face tenses, and he matches McCauley’s pace, wedging his seat closer to the table every time McCauley moves.
“Come on, man,” he mutters.
“Sorry. My hip’s been bothering me. It’s hard to move that way.”
Isaac drops a hand over his mouth to cover a laugh.
When Luke’s finally seated at the table, he extends his hand to me. “Luke Preston.”
“Pane Maddox.”
“You’re the one who’s helping over at the Wadleys’, right?”
The three men go quiet. Eyes are glued to cards. Fingers twitch.
That tells me everything I need to know about what’s going down.
I remember several things about Luke: He broke Rowe’s heart, he lives across the road, and he works at the bank.
All three make me instantly dislike him. “That’s right, I’m over at the Wadleys’.”
He scratches his beard. “What brought you here?”
It’s no one’s business why I’m doing what I am, just thatI am. “It’s a little project I’m working on.”
Luke turns to Ron. “You gonna deal or what?”
Ron starts shuffling nervously. “Yeah. Fifty-dollar buy-in.”
“Make it one hundred,” Luke counters.
Ron swallows nervously. Isaac and McCauley both glare at Luke. They’re probably thinking he’s going to cheat again, and he knows he’s going to win. Otherwise, he wouldn’t bother coming in high.
It’s Isaac who tries to make things reasonable. “Come on, Luke. A hundred?”
