Betting on Hope (32 page)

And waited to meet her fate.

Moustache Man’s eyes widened in shock for an instant. And then he slumped, resigned, as he tossed his cards back to the dealer. He didn’t want to risk sixty or seventy thousand dollars more to see what cards Hope held.

The pot was Hope’s. And she was up eighty thousand dollars.

She felt a deep, peaceful satisfaction, knowing she’d played well.

She glanced to where Tanner was watching. He shook his head, grinning at her, and gestured to see her cards. She held them up so he could see.

King, seven.

Hope watched as Tanner’s jaw dropped. She smiled, tossing the cards back to the dealer. She’d had a nothing hand. A hand most people would never have bet into the flop. But Hope had read her opponent correctly and knew that her bluff—her huge, over-the-top, game-ending, all-in bluff—would scare off his winning hand. And it had.

And now she was done. She’d made the two hundred thousand dollars she needed to play Big Julie, with fifty thousand to spare. It was Saturday noon on a dusty street, and she, Gary Cooper, had won.

The dealer scooped the chips over to Hope, and she picked them up, shaking hands with Moustache Man.

“Thanks for the game,” she said. “I enjoyed it.”

“You had amazing cards,” he said.

“I was lucky,” she said, although of course neither amazing cards nor luck had had anything to do with her win.

Marty picked up his coffee cup and held it aloft. “To Hope.”

“To Hope!” Tanner lifted his glass of orange juice, and the uncles lifted their cups or glasses of coffee, juice, water, or in Jim Thickpenny’s case, champagne. A large and festive lunch covered the big, round table at the Golden Palace all-you-can-eat four-ninety-five dim sum buffet.

“You should have seen her play that last hand,” Tanner told the uncles. “You would not have believed it. She didn’t turn a hair. She went all-in on the worst cards I’ve ever seen. Unbelievably gutsy.”

“I’d have believed it,” Marty said, nodding. “She could play the pants off just about anybody when she was
twelve
.”

“I was channeling Gary Cooper,” Hope said. She looked, Tanner thought, adorably pink and pleased with herself. “You know, in
High Noon
. Facing the gunman at the end of the street. Although Gary Cooper was facing a whole gang in that one, and all I had was Mr. Moustache.”

“You like old movies?” Tanner asked.
That was another thing they had in common.

Hope nodded, helping herself to pot stickers. “Late night TV, my secret vice,” she said.

Tanner could think of other late-night vices he’d like to tempt her with.

“She’s a natural card player,” Pete Wysniewski said. “You see them every so often. Stu Ungar. Like that.”

Weary nodded. “You played some remarkable poker this week,” he said to Hope. “Truly remarkable.”

“Bing, bing, bing!” Sharp Eddie said, finishing up the Mongolian beef.

“Unbelievable streak,” Isaiah Rush said. “You were fantastic all week.”

Hope blushed furiously.

“Thanks to you all,” she said. She took a deep breath. “I’ll never be able to repay you guys for coming out here and getting me this far.”

“Hey,” Marty said. “Stop. No more of that. We always felt we shoulda done more for you back then. What we did this week is nothing. We’re square.”

“And we had fun,” Sharp Eddie said, laying aside his napkin and sitting back with a sigh of satisfaction.

Jim Thickpenny nodded. “We were delighted to accommodate your unexpected and fascinating request for assistance.”

“We’re just glad to see you again, Hope,” Weary said.

Tanner watched Hope smile with her lips pursed together. She was trying not to cry. What had these people—such unlikely friends—meant to each other years ago? He’d give a lot to know. Someday, he hoped—and if he had anything to say about it—she’d trust him enough to tell him.

As they started to file out of the restaurant, Marty held Hope back.

“Got something for you here,” he said. He pulled some sheets of paper from inside his coat pocket. “Did some research. Thought you might need it.”

Hope took the papers and looked at them. “What’s this?”

“These are most of the players you’ll likely meet tonight at Big Julie’s,” Marty said. “Big Julie tends to play with a bunch of guys regular, and another two or three that rotate, depending on who’s flush or who’s in town. Like that.”

Hope nodded, reading more carefully. “This is fantastic, Marty! This will really help. How did you get this?”

“I asked around. The six regulars is there, plus Big Julie. Then you, that’s eight. Maybe one other. Last week one guy went to the hospital with a peanut allergy, might be him. If not—sorry, kiddo. It was the best I could do on such short notice.”

Hope looked at him with shining eyes. “You’ve got everything here! Names, style of play, tells, winnings, even photos! Everything!”

“Everything I could find, anyways. You can’t have us spotting tables for you up there. You’ll be on your own, and you’re coming in cold. They know each other, and how everybody plays, so you got it tougher than the other players. I thought this could even your odds a little bit.”

“Marty, I love you. You think of everything.” Hope put her arms around him and held him close.

“Jeez, Hope, stop that. It’s nothing,” Marty blustered, and Hope took pity and let him go.

“It’s everything, Marty. I won’t forget what you did for me this week. Let me know if I can repay the favor. I mean it.”

Marty patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. “You’re a good kid,” he said. “If I had a kid, I wouldn’t mind if she turned out like you.”

Hope felt herself beaming at Marty.

“I’d have been proud to be your kid,” she said.

Tanner watched Hope and Marty from a distance and wondered what the Jersey card player was saying that made her smile at him like that and wondered what Marty had given her. His last will and testament? A treasure map? It wasn’t any of his business. But whatever it was, it had sure made Hope happy.

Well, he had an afternoon to make Hope happy, too. He was free until this evening, when he had to play in Big Julie Saladino’s weekly card game. And he’d make sure that Big Julie won, too, whatever it took, because otherwise he’d be violating the terms of his probation. He had a lot of reasons to stay out of jail now, starting with the one that was standing over there talking to Marty the Sneak.

Hope waved goodbye to Marty, and then, there she was. Coming toward him, a big smile on her face.

“You picked a good table for me this morning,” Hope said, as she joined Tanner, beaming. “Thank you.” He looked lazy, strong but relaxed, where he leaned against the wall waiting for her. He had that quirky smile on his lips and a glint in his eye, and although she knew that he was a card shark and could pounce at a moment’s notice, she had to admit that he’d really come through for her when the chips were down. She’d made her stake. Tonight she’d play Big Julie! She felt as light as meringue.

“All part of the service,” Tanner said. “Do you have plans for the afternoon? It’s a nice day to go to Mount Charleston for a walk.”

Hope glanced at him, surprised. Was he asking her on a
date?

“I don’t have
plans
,” she said. I was thinking I’d go home for a horseback ride.”“Isn’t Saturday the traditional day of rest for horses?”

Hope grinned. “Urban myth. Typical. I don’t know how these things get started. You know, if you wanted to learn to ride, you could take Blondie. A blind, one-legged goat could stay on Blondie.”

“Oh, good. I’ve finally been compared to a blind, one-legged goat. Another thing I can cross off my bucket list.”

Hope laughed and glanced up at him. “What else is on your bucket list?” she asked.
What was she doing?
She was
flirting
with Tanner. That was bad. Her voice yelled at her.
No flirting! No heartbreak!

“I’ll tell you if you take the walk with me.”

Hope ignored the voice. She felt light and carefree, reckless and on top of the world. She could conquer anything. Overcome all obstacles. They would have a good time this afternoon, that was all. Tanner would not break her heart.

She wanted to go on a hike with Tanner. She wanted a date.
She wanted him to kiss her again.

“I can’t hike in these clothes,” she said, glancing down at her linen cropped pants and high-heeled sandals.

“We can buy you something,” Tanner said. “You’ve earned it.”

“I sure did.” Hope turned and they started to walk toward the shopping arcade. She felt the bounce in her step as they passed the shops. “I just need shorts. I’ve got boots in my car.”

It didn’t take Hope long to find a pair of poppy-pink nylon hiking shorts. Then she went to meet Tanner, who had bought bottled water for the hike.

“All set,” she said.

Tanner looked at her long legs, tanned under the bright pink shorts. “My day’s already improved,” he said.

Hope laughed. “Wait until you see me in my hiking boots,” she said. “That’ll really float your boat.”

They took Tanner’s truck to Mount Charleston, about thirty-five miles away, which promised good hiking, higher elevations, and cooler temperatures. As Hope climbed out of the truck at the park’s trailhead, Tanner grabbed a knapsack from behind the seat.

“That’s the water?” she asked.

Tanner locked the truck. “Water, snacks, nylon blanket,” he said. “A few basics.”

“Good thinking,” Hope said. “In case we can’t find the restaurant.”

Tanner grinned. “Exactly.”

They struck out on a hard-packed dry trail that led upwards between groves of ponderosa pine and white fir. Hope breathed in the sharp pine scent in the clear, thin air.

“I don’t get out here enough,” she said. “Usually I get home from work and go for a ride. I love that. But—”

“Variety is the spice of life,” Tanner agreed.

They left the pine grove behind, heading steadily uphill, and entered a stand of aspen. In late summer, the trees were just starting to turn color, but wildflowers still bloomed. Hope could see a few butterflies clinging to the purple petals. Overhead the sky was a thin, high blue, sprinkled with white cumulus clouds.

“Let’s stop for a minute,” she said.

Tanner opened the knapsack and handed her a bottle of water. Hope cracked the top and took a swallow, taking in the color and light. She smiled at Tanner.

“This is beautiful,” she said.

Tanner smiled at the happiness in her face. “Yes, it is,” he said. “Never more than now.”

Hope’s smile widened. “It’s a good time of year.”

“It is in my calendar.”

They walked on, meeting no one. About an hour later, Tanner stopped.

“There’s a waterfall just up that branch trail,” he said. “It’s probably mostly dry by now, but it would be cool. Want to check it out or go on to the top?”

“Let’s check it out,” Hope decided. They followed an abandoned road for a few minutes, which narrowed to a path and then barely a track.

“Are you sure this is the right way?” Hope asked, following Tanner through what looked like unmarked trees and scrubby brush.

“Trust me.” They rounded an embankment and Hope gasped.

“Like it?”

“
Like
it? This is
amazing
.” The waterfall—probably about eighty feet tall—started more than forty feet above them and disappeared into the rocks below. Now in late summer, the flow had slowed to a thin ribbon, but drops still bounced over the rocks and splashed onto the surrounding ground. The air was much cooler in this area, and grass, jimson weed, and black-eyed susans flourished near the falls. The area was cool and vibrant with color—a magical spot of oasis on the warm, dry trail.

“How did you know this was here?” She mopped her forehead.

“It’s marked on the trail maps. It’s just that not many people come this far. Here, drink some more water. I’ve got another one if we need it.” Tanner handed her a bottle.

“Can we sit here awhile?” she said. “I’m warmer than I thought.”

“Me, too. Wait before you sit,” he said. “I’ll put the blanket down.”

He pulled the groundcloth out of the knapsack and spread it out over the grass near the waterfall.

“This is
heaven.
” Hope dropped to the ground with her water bottle and gazed at the falls. “I bet this is something in the spring.” She tilted her head back and drank the entire bottle, wiping her mouth when she was finished.

“That hit the spot,” she said, putting the empty back in the knapsack. “I didn’t know I was so thirsty.”

Tanner watched Hope drink her water, drink it so fast that some of it escaped the edges of the bottle and trickled down the sides of her mouth and dripped onto her tee-shirt. He watched her throat move as she swallowed the water, at her flushed and moist face, at her tee-shirt as it absorbed the spilled water. He watched her soft mouth as she wiped it afterwards.