The Gambler Read online

  "Have to lay him down," she murmured. "Here. Over here." She motioned toward a red settee.

  Raven wrapped his arms about the old gambler's torso and followed her, half dragging Jude along. In a moment the old man was propped up on the frayed, red velvet of the once elegant settee.

  "There now. You're gonna be fine," crooned Charm, immediately on her knees again. "Somebody get him some water. And hurry."

  From the table behind, two men bumbled away to do her bidding. Raven stood idly by, feeling ridiculously out of character and irritably impatient for his carefully planned revenge.

  Water was brought in a shot glass, carried hurriedly along by a lumbering grizzly of a man. Liquid sloshed generously across his coarse fingers as he panted to a halt by Charm's side. "Here y' go, miss," he said, pressing the nearly empty glass toward her.

  Breathing a word of thanks, she gently urged Jude to take a sip. But even that tiny bit of liquid seemed to be too much for the old man.

  "Is it your stomach?" Charm asked, leaning nearer her father.

  "I'm all right." His tone sounded ghastly, vividly belying his words. "Just get him the hell outta my sight before I kill 'im." He waved toward Raven, but his strength failed to sustain the lift of his arm. It fell limply over the edge of the settee as his lids dropped closed.

  "Jude?" Charm's tone was desperate and ragged.

  The old man's lips moved, and she leaned across his chest to hear him. "My gal," he whispered, trying to pat her hand. "So sorry. Shoulda learned who he was. Shoulda—"

  "Just rest for a spell." She forced a smile. "Everything's going to be fine. You'll see. Just rest. Then I'll get you to your room." Her voice wobbled slightly, and when she reached out, her hand did the same.

  Tears? Raven wondered. Were those real tears in her eyes? But no! He was forgetting her identity—and after all the pain she'd caused him. She was an even better actress than he'd realized. Not to mention the old man, who surely deserved some kind of award for his touching performance.

  "I'll have some answers first," Raven said. Remembering the pain the Fergussons had caused him, he stepped nearer the settee. "About—"

  "Have you no heart?" She looked up from the floor, and, indeed, in her forest-deep eyes there were tears.

  Raven stared at her, temporarily forgetting his concussion, his throbbing groin, his aching back. God, she was beautiful.

  "No heart at all?" she whispered.

  Raven brought himself back to reality with a painful lash of his memory. "No," he said evenly. "None. And I believe we've played this game before. It was amusing, but once is enough."

  "Can't you see he's terribly ill?"

  "What I see is that you think me terribly stupid."

  She pursed her lips. Anger darted in the kaleidoscope recesses of her eyes. "Then you're not completely blind."

  Raven gave her a cold smile. "All you need do is tell me the truth about Grady."

  "I told you before." Her voice wavered, and her gaze flickered to the trio of men who shuffled about not far away. "I don't know any Grady."

  Raven canted his head at her. "Then maybe your father can tell me what happened to the girl. Hey! Old man," he said, shaking the limp shoulder. "That was a good try, but it's time to talk now."

  "What are you doing?" Charm demanded, jerking to her feet. "Are you crazy? He needs his rest." She yanked at Raven's arm, but he caught her hand in a carefully controlled grip, pulling it near his chest.

  "I've had just about enough of your entertaining lies. Now I'll have the truth."

  "I told you the truth."

  "The devil you did!"

  "This fella botherin' you, miss?" asked a voice from behind.

  Charm's wide gaze was trapped on Raven's. "Let me go," she ordered.

  "Over your dead body," he said, managing a smile.

  "He bothering you?" asked a second man. The first one stepped closer, his movements agitated.

  Charm's gaze held on Raven's.

  "Yes," she whispered. "He is."

  "Let the lady go, mister," said yet another rough voice. Raven knew better than to turn his back to Charm when he spoke to the grizzly men. Despite the damage they could do him, Charm Fergusson could, no doubt, do worse.

  "She may be a lot of things, friend," said Raven quietly, still holding her gaze, "but a lady, she's not."

  Three large bodies shuffled closer. "You'll be 'pologizing to the lady now, mister, or you'll be sayin' adieu to your teeth."

  It dawned on Raven, rather belatedly, it seemed, that Charm had found herself not one but three large and well-fermented champions. He scowled mentally and turned while still holding her arm. "My apologies to one and all," he said. If he'd learned anything from Clancy, it was to know when to back away with his hands in the air. The problem was, he only had one hand to lift at this particular moment, for he would not let go of the girl and risk her escape. "But I have a matter of some importance to discuss with Miss Charm."

  "We said t'let go of the lady."

  Raven tried another smile. Things looked grim. Sober men he could reason with. Intelligent men he could bargain with. These men were neither. But lying he could do with anyone. "The truth is, boys..." he began with a single shake of his head. "She's my sister."

  For a moment the three men looked baffled.

  "The hell!" exclaimed the closest of them in dubious disbelief.

  "God's truth!" Raven swore, simultaneously reviewing the locations of the doors. Good Lord, he'd just regained a modicum of his strength. Now was not the time to be wrestling grizzlies. "She run off with that fellow there," he said, nodding toward Jude. "It broke our mama's heart."

  "You lie!" exclaimed grizzly number two, stepping nearer. "That's her pa."

  Raven retreated, pulling Charm along and raising an inoffensive palm toward the bulky trio. "Now, think on it a spell. What kind of man would take his own girl into a place like this? And dress her like..."He allowed himself one quick glance at Charm's half-bared bosom then shook his head sadly. "I'm shamed of you, Mary Beth. Plum ashamed."

  Her body was stiff, her lips slightly parted, and her eyes very wide. "You're insane," she whispered.

  "P'raps Mama shouldn't of married her Uncle Bill after all," Raven reasoned and allowed an honest smile for his own wit and the girl's mien. There was nothing like her frightened expression to improve his mood.

  "Let me go," she whispered, trying to pull away.

  "We already discussed that, Mary Beth," he said, grabbing her arm with his second hand as well. "And it ain't gonna happen."

  "Let me go!" she repeated, louder now. There was panic in her tone and terror in her eyes. But Raven's groin throbbed painfully at the remembrance of her deceit, and he tightened his grip on her.

  "We've got to talk."

  "The lady says to let her go."

  "Back off!" Raven snapped. Momentarily forgetting the wisdom of his patience, he turned to the side.

  The first fist hit him like an oak battering ram to the belly. Raven doubled over, cursing his luck, grizzly men, and bountiful bosoms.

  "Come on, lady," said grizzly number one, reaching for Charm's arm. "We'll see y' safely to yer room."

  "The devil you will!" said Raven. Gritting his teeth against the roiling pain in his stomach, he launched his bent and wavering form toward the three mountains of human flesh.

  He would never be certain whom he hit first, or who hit him. Fists were everywhere, flying like wildly flung mallets as men grunted and cursed and threw about miscellaneous body parts. But the battle was too close for accuracy. Grizzly number one swung, but Raven, sober and wary, ducked. The brawny fist landed dead center in grizzly number two's eyes.

  There was a howl of rage and agony. Suddenly the two men were tussling like bears upon the floor, grappling, thumping, and cursing.

  "Damn you!" exploded the third man. Bent on vindicating his friends' wounds, he swung his meaty fist. Raven ducked again, but the knuckles exploded in multicolored lights against
his temple.

  The shock of force rocked Raven back on his heels, but from the corner of his eye he saw Charm flee the room. He pivoted, lunging after her, but with a roar the third man was upon him, nabbing him about the waist so that they crashed to the floor like falling trees.

  Raven tried to scramble out of reach, but the other held on. Twisting about, Raven slammed a knee into his opponent's jaw.

  There was a click of teeth, a grunt of pain, and a momentary chance to flee. Raven grasped it with desperate speed and struggled to his feet. The bear man rose, too, staggering yet undefeated.

  "Charm!" Raven yelled, but again the man charged. His impetus was failing, however, and when he tackled, he grasped nothing but a leg. "Charm!" Raven screamed again, dragging the grizzly behind, but suddenly he felt teeth chomp hard against his calf, and his yell turned to a bellow of pain.

  From outside Charm heard the yelps of agony, but she dared not stop. "'He leadeth me to green pastures!'" she quoted and sped away.

  A thud, a roar, and then staggering footsteps followed her. She could hear them coming, thundering past the sun-bleached tents that lined the street! Trees towered just ahead, huge and dark and concealing. She raced toward them, praying for cover.

  Just before she passed the last tent, Raven caught her, dragging her to the ground in a flurry of petticoats and red satin. She screamed, kicking wildly and fighting to break free.

  "Hey, what's going on there?" someone yelled. The voice distracted Raven for a moment. She kicked again, causing his grip to loosen for an instant. Squirming, she almost broke free before he encircled her waist and dragged her back down again.

  "There he is! Get 'im!" someone shouted.

  Charm felt Raven stiffen against her body as he twisted about to look behind.

  "Damn it!" he swore. In a moment he was up, dragging her along behind him. She fought frantically, planting her feet and trying to pull from his grip, but suddenly he bent. His shoulder hit her abdomen with enough force to punch the air from her lungs. Turning with a stagger and a lurch, he loped toward the forest at a wavering gait.

  It was darker in the woods, though dusk was still some hours away. Trees surrounded them, towering far into the sky. Fallen pine needles muffled Raven's movements as Charm still fought for breath.

  "Hey, you! Come on out of there. Bring back the girl."

  Charm raised her head, searching for her rescuers. "Over here!" Though she tried to scream, the words bleated out as no more than a rusty croak of sound.

  "Shut up!" ordered Raven, still scrambling along beneath her.

  "Here!" she called with renewed strength, but suddenly she was tumbled from his shoulder. Even as she fell, her knees kept pummeling and her hands were searching for a weapon. But in an instant he was atop her.

  Again her air left with a painful whoosh.

  "Quiet," he ordered, but for the moment there was no purpose to his words, for even had she found the nerve, she could not fill her lungs.

  "Come on out of there!"

  The voice was closer now. Charm opened her mouth, trying to yell despite her debilitation. But Raven's hand made an effective stopper as it covered her mouth and nose.

  His face was very near hers. "Shh," he whispered, as if she had a choice. She rolled her eyes toward him and tried to breathe, but it was no use. He was heavy and strong, and though it was possible he wasn't trying to smother her, he was temporarily distracted by their pursuer and forgot her need for air.

  Blackness loomed on the edge of Charm's consciousness. She could feel herself falling into the abyss and fought one more time. Her throat squeaked painfully, crying for air.

  "Charm?" Raven whispered.

  Her eyeballs rolled upward, blurring the vision of his face. He swore in silence and slipped his hand away. Air rushed in through her nose in sweeping, painful drafts and into her mouth in delicious, aching gulps. "Promise not to scream," he whispered, but there was little chance of that just now. "Promise?" he asked, lifting his palm above her face again.

  Charm nodded, panting for life.

  They lay together, not exactly side by side, but more in layers, with his left hip at the center of her abdomen, and his shoulder pressed between her breasts. Charm remained very still. Off to her right she could hear another man passing. She wanted to yell out, but Raven was watching her, his eyes dark and deadly in the long shafts of light that slanted through the branches from high above.

  Perhaps if she waited just a little longer, he would think her too terrified to call out. And perhaps indeed she was, Charm realized suddenly, for again her breathing had stopped.

  "What the devil's wrong with you?" he whispered, glancing warily about before returning his gaze to her face. "You damn near got me killed. Again." His eyes bored into hers.

  She didn't speak. Couldn't, for fear had again suffocated her senses.

  "Blast it, woman!" he snarled as he shook her slightly by the shoulders. "You're turning blue. Breathe, for God's sake."

  Air wafted into her lungs. She took it gratefully and shut her eyes, trying to block the thought of him from her mind so that she might continue to do so.

  Silence descended over the woods. Whoever was searching for them must have moved on, Charm reasoned. She was on her own. She took another breath, not moving.

  "I didn't kill Grady." Her own words surprised her. She could feel his gaze on her face but dared not open her eyes to its scorching heat. "I promise you."

  "Tell me what happened," he ordered quietly.

  Now would be the time for a really first-class lie, Charm thought raggedly. But the truth was, she didn't have a first-class lie ready. In fact, she couldn't think of a single viable story that might cause this madman to release her. "I never met anyone named Chantilly Grady. I swear it on my father's thigh."

  She opened her eyes just in time to see his brows rise toward the dark mass of his hairline.

  "On your father's thigh?" he asked dubiously.

  "It's a sacred Hebrew vow," she explained earnestly.

  He opened his mouth as if to question but finally shook his head. "I don't even want to know. All I want to find out..." He shrugged, shaking his head again, as if he asked so little. "All I want to know is how you got the Bible."

  Breathe, she reminded herself, but it was difficult indeed, for he would not like the truth, and no believable lies were coming to mind. "I got it from my father." She had meant to say she'd gotten it from her mother, but the truth had made him very unpleasant in the past, causing her to avoid that topic for as long as possible.

  His eyes narrowed slightly. "When did he give it to you?"

  The lower half of his face was shadowed, while his hair shone raven black in the dusky light.

  "When, Charm?"

  She let her attention fall breathlessly to his mouth when he spoke. It was close enough to allow her to feel the air of his words stroke her cheek.

  "Charm?" he whispered, leaning closer still, so that she could make out each lean, unshaven line of his angular face. "When?"

  Fear twisted her gut. It must be fear, she reasoned, for he was too near and strong and dangerous to allow any other emotion.

  "I was very young," she whispered. She could feel his heartbeat against her breast, thrumming with his life. "Jude was hurt. Shot." She squinted as the memories rushed painfully at her. For a moment the emotions held her in their grip. "He thought he was dying, so he gave me the Bible."

  Raven watched her. A ray of fractured light had found its way between cloud and branch to fall with merciless scrutiny upon her face. Such direct illumination would be harsh to most women. To Charm it was marvelously benevolent. Raven took a steadying breath as he studied her. Good God, she looked like an angel, like a frail piece of heaven, soft, and helpless, and oh so sad. And if the angel had fallen a bit, who could blame her? Surely not Joseph Neil, the man who called himself Raven.

  "Why did he give you the Bible, Charm?"

  "He said..." She paused, lifting her eyes to h
is. They were huge and bright and so filled with fear and sadness that for a moment he seemed to feel her pain in his own chest. "He said it had been my mother's. That I was old enough to care for it now."

  The words fell uneasily into the silence. Raven watched her, thinking a thousand thoughts. Each had something to do with the softness of her skin, or how the sunlight danced upon the cinnamon streaks of her hair.

  "He said she'd wanted me to have it."

  Raven brought his thoughts back with an effort. "Your mother's?"

  She nodded. The movement was erratic and frightened the shadow of her chin into dancing across the delicate column of her throat.

  "Did she look like you?" It was not the question he had meant to ask, for it had little bearing on his search.

  "I don't remember her." Charm's words were no more than the breath of a whisper. Raven watched her, seeing the abject emotions in her eyes.

  "Not at all?" He could remember his own mother so easily. How she would hum him into dreamland when the world crowded in too close. How she would lift her chin in the midst of trouble and remind him that one must take the bad with the good. But there had been too little good for Abigail Scott, and too damn much bad.

  "She died giving birth to me," Charm whispered.

  Good God! Such a beauty, with no one but a drunken father to protect her from the harshness of the world. "I'm sorry." Raven's words came unbidden and unwanted. He reached his hand up to gently push a few dark, wild wisps of hair from her neck. A pulse beat there, strong and rapid, like a frightened doe's. For a moment, Raven allowed his fingertips to remain on that delicate spot, feeling the steady, sensual throb.

  "It wasn't Jude's fault," she murmured. Her lips were slightly parted, and she breathed rapidly, with her gaze pinned on his while her soft, half-bare bosom rose and fell against his chest. "He couldn't have known what would happen. He couldn't have guessed."

  "Charm..." Raven said softly, and finding he could no longer resist her, pressed his lips to hers.

  They were soft and full and very like a brief touch of heaven. He moved his mouth, feeling the warmth streak through his system like a thousand fingers of flame. Shifting sideways slightly, he skimmed his hand beneath the dark silk of her hair to cup her neck as his tongue caressed her upper lip.