The Gambler (27 page)

"Help me tie them up," Raven gasped.

"Jude!" Charm called. Raven stopped, watching her.

"You said you wanted to come with me."

"Jude," she said again, dragging a sheet with her as she rose.

"He's fine. We have to hurry, before they wake up," Raven said, but she was already kneeling beside her father, her fingers on his cheek.

The last spark from the lantern flickered and went out, leaving them in darkness.

"You hit him," she said quietly.

"Of course I hit him," Raven reasoned. "He was going to shoot me."

"There's nothing wrong with your arm, is there?"

The silence was enough of an answer.

"Get out!"

"Charm," Raven began softly.

"Get out!" she spat.

"He's not your father, Charm. Believe me."

"You lie!"

"He
lied. He's been lying all these years."

Somehow she found the gun in the darkness and fired without thinking. But before she could correct her aim, Raven was upon her. He wrestled the gun from her hand and pinned her to the floor. Bare legs tangled in linen as Charm thrashed and swore.

"God damn it, woman, hold still!"

"Get off me!"

"So you can kill me?"

"Yes!" she snarled, bucking again.

"I don't think so. You're coming with me."

"Like hell."

"A lot like hell!" he said, and pulled her to her feet as she grappled with the sheet. "Get dressed."

"Never!" she exploded, draping the linen before her quivering body. "I'll never go with you."

He stood very still, staring at her shadowy figure and still holding her wrist. "Then I'll call the law in myself and tell them everything."

She narrowed her eyes, hating him. "What are you talking about?"

"I'll tell them Jude killed the man with the hat. Randall Grady." He paused, letting his words sink in. "Your real father."

"You're mad!" she breathed.

"Maybe, but I know the truth, Charm, and they will, too, unless you come with me."

From down the hall, footsteps hurried toward them.

Charm tried desperately to think. "You won't hurt him if I come?"

"You have my word."

"What's going on here?"A light appeared with the voice.

Raven pulled his attention from Charm to aim it at the newcomer. "These..."—he waved wildly, hoping he looked near hysterics—"these brigands broke into our room."

"Thieves?"

"Just damn drunkards," Raven countered, sounding outraged. "Raving mad bastards. Thought my sweet Emily was some floozy named Charm. Scared her near to death," he added, pulling Charm close. "Does this town have a sheriff?"

"Say, you're... you're naked, mister."

"Damn it, man!" stormed Raven, thrusting out his chest and scowling darkly. "These no-accounts nearly scared Mrs. McBain into apoplexy, now do you have some place to keep these two till they sleep it off or not?"

"I'll... I'll get help!" squeaked the man, and taking one last look, fled down the hall.

"Get dressed," Raven ordered.

"She took my gown," Charm pointed out.

"Wear your old red one. It's in the bag."

"You..."—Charm drew herself straighter—"you had it all along?"

"Just say I became attached to it," he said. "Put it on and keep quiet or I'll tell everything I know about Jude, and it's not good."

They rode hard all night. Although Raven kept a hold on Angel's reins, he was never sure if it was necessary or not. Charm was absolutely silent, giving no clue to her intentions. But her thoughts were clear to him. She hated him. And why not? He'd lied to her, hit the one man she trusted, and forced her to leave him while he was still unconscious, bound and gagged.

Yes, she hated him, and would probably murder him if she got half a chance. The killer woman was back.

The black-forested hills had been left behind, making way for a sea of grasses that seemed to stretch on forever. Although the horses had plenty to eat, human rations were low. The midday meal consisted of nothing more than the remainder of bacon and biscuits, but it seemed like a feast in comparison to supper.

No fire was lit that night. The horses were hobbled to prevent their escape, and camp was made in a small, rare copse of cottonwood near a shallow pond.

"I'm going to have to tie you up." Raven's voice broke the silence. Charm didn't move. She remained as she was, dressed in the frayed elegance of her seductive gown and seated on a rotting log where she stared at nothing in particular. He watched her. Not one word had she spoken for the forty or so miles they'd traveled that day. "I hate to do it."

Still she didn't move, didn't speak, didn't raise her gaze to his. Raven gritted his teeth.

"He's not your father!" he spouted suddenly, unable to hold back the words. "Your name's Chantilly, and you're a wealthy woman. You have an aunt who wants you back. A mansion, River Bluffs. Servants. Old Cora."

The silence was as heavy as the darkness.

"Eloise is paying a great deal of money to get you back."

The frustrating thing about the woman was that she could pretend not to hear him. But he knew she heard. She was sitting only a half a dozen feet away, and she was trying to drive him insane. That's all. But it wasn't going to work. She could remain mute from now until hell froze over. He didn't care. He'd just keep feeding her information, and if she didn't believe his story now, she was sure to by the end of their journey.

"Eloise gave your mother her Bible before she left. Caroline ran away to be with your father, Randall Grady. Your grandmother didn't approve. Then, ten years or so later, she gets a letter from Grady that says Caroline died in an accident. But their daughter, Chantilly, is alive and well and can be brought to River Bluffs if old Sophie will pay the expenses."

Though Charm didn't speak, she was watching him now, very tense and silent.

Against his will Raven softened his tone. "I don't know what the old lady's response was. All I saw was Grady's letter. But I know nothing came of it. As far as I can tell they never heard from him again, and Chantilly never showed up. Finally old Sophie died, and Eloise found the letters, Caroline's and Grady's." He paused, running the splayed fingers of his left hand through his hair. "You'll have a home, Charm, real family, security."

She didn't so much as blink an eye, but he knew she had heard. And that was all he asked. There was no need to react, no need for her forgiveness. After all, he was only doing it for the money. Raven relaxed his jaw with an effort. The silence was very loud.

"All right, goddamnit, I lied about my arm!" he shouted, and she jumped as he strode angrily before her. "I lied because you were so damned scared of me. I knew you'd feel better if you thought I was half dead. And it sure did work, didn't it?" he asked, leaning forward from the waist to speak directly into her face. "Damn right it did, because all of a suddenlike you were flirting, teasing, watching me undress, for Christ's sake."

Her gaze had met his, and though he searched, he could find nothing but the aloof indifference she had learned to show the world.

"Talk to me, goddamnit!" he shouted, but she said nothing, merely extending her hands to be tied.

This was, without exception, the most miserable night Raven had ever spent. He had indeed tied her. First her wrists, then her ankles. Then, however, she couldn't move her arms, which, of course, had been the purpose. But it had bothered him, somehow, for who could sleep on the hard ground without at least an arm to cushion her head on? In the end, he had cut her hands free and bound her to his own body.

It was now long past midnight, and he was about to go insane. "God damn it, don't you ever sleep?" he asked miserably.

She stared at him from twelve inches away, her expression absolutely unreadable, saying nothing.

Raven gritted his teeth again. "At least close your eyes. For Christ's sake, woman, I'm not going to eat you."

She didn't even blink. His teeth ached with the increased pressure he applied.

"Close your eyes," he said again, "or I'll... have to kiss you."

At least that news warranted an expression of some sort, though he couldn't quite read it in the darkness. He could, however, see that her eyes remained open. So he kissed her. Her lips were soft and warm, her breathing rapid, but she didn't try to pull away. She tasted like heaven, and for a moment he thought he imagined her kissing him back.

"Charm." He breathed her name, feeling her heady appeal to the depths of his bones. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and beg to be forgiven, but when he looked into her face, he saw that her eyes were closed.

By morning, Raven felt as though his eyelids were made of sand and his mouth of sawdust. The sun was just beginning to rise and the killer woman was staring at him from such close proximity that he felt he could feel her think. Good God, the reward couldn't possibly be worth all this. In fact, an Indian raid was beginning to look more and more desirable. Maybe they'd take the girl. Or maybe they'd just kill him and deprive Charm of that pleasure.

They saw buffalo that day. Not the huge herds reported years earlier, but several hundred, moving slowly and raising dust. A little past noon, he shot a rabbit with the gun he'd found in Angel's saddlebag. He hadn't told Charm of his find, of course, fearing she'd think to put it to better use than the delivery of a meal. The killer woman, however, seemed unexcited by the sight of the gun, unimpressed by his marksmanship, and downright disdainful of his cuisine, which consisted of charred bunny accompanied by muddy water.

"I'll cook."

"What's that?" Raven raised his head to stare at the girl he'd been sure had forgotten how to speak. It was almost dark, and the small cooking fire had been cautiously extinguished, lest they attract unwanted visitors.

"Is there a town nearby?" she asked, not looking at him.

"We should reach it tomorrow morning."

"If you buy supplies, I'll cook."

He stared at her. "Why?"

She stared back, giving him that prim little smile she reserved for cutting a man to the quick. "Because I don't want to starve... before I see you hanged."

The town they reached was little more than four buildings stuck together in the midst of nothingness, but it had a mercantile, and a saloon. Which was all Raven wanted. He accompanied Charm into the store, bought her a dowdy dress that would, he hoped, disguise her figure. He let her choose supplies before hustling her into the saloon where he bought two bottles of wine, which were a rare find in this part of the world.

Once again the prairie stretched out before them, and this time, made nervous by thoughts of those who must be tracking them, Raven pushed along well into the night. For a few miles the terrain became slightly rolling, and finally they came to an area of small rocky bluffs, dotted with scrub trees and boasting a trickle of fresh water.

"We'll camp here," Raven said, dismounting stiffly, still holding Charm's reins in one hand. He'd felt like an idiot leading the girl's horse through town, but he didn't trust her, not for a moment, though she seemed docile as a kitten. "You still want to cook?"

She nodded and he grimaced. Perhaps he shouldn't trust her with the cooking utensils, he thought, but how much damage could she do with a cast-iron pan? Upon further thought, however, he realized he didn't truly wish to know.

"All right. We'll build the fire under that tree. Keep it small and make sure it burns clean." Actually it would be virtually unseen there, even from close range. "Can I trust you not to run off while I take care of the horses?"

She smiled. It was wonderfully executed, beautiful in its insincerity. "Of course."

Raven frowned. "You really want me here hounding your every move?" he asked, scowling at her. He was tired. Tired of the endless miles, the constant worry, but perhaps most of all tired of the frustration of her perpetual distant closeness. Which of course, didn't make any sense at all. He was losing his mind.

"I won't run away." She dropped the smile and said the words flatly. "I'm waiting to see you hang, remember?"

He watched her expression, which couldn't be called an expression at all, then turned the horses toward the stream. Maybe she was lying and would run at the first opportunity, and maybe that was just as well.

Although Raven had seen and approved everything they had purchased, he still looked warily at the food she placed before him. He found it a bit hard to trust her after she'd admitted to wanting to see him die. Such a statement tended to put a damper on a potential romance. Still, the meal looked good and smelled better. "Is it poisoned?" he asked taking his gaze from the unexpected cuisine to watch her smile.

"Yes." She dimpled slightly when she spoke. "It is," she said, and took a bite from her own plate.

He watched her chew.

"But only your portion," she added as she took another forkful.

In the end, there seemed to be nothing he could do but taste it, and once he'd sampled the first bite there was no turning back. It was truly delicious, and though he could not quite determine how such simple food stuffs had been convinced to become ambrosia, he ate every bite before raising his gaze to Charm again.

Surprisingly, she had changed into the dress he'd purchased for her. It was a nondescript color with long sleeves, a blessedly high neckline, and enough fabric to fit Angel. Still she looked lovely. God damn it. "Where'd you learn to cook?"

For a moment he thought she would refuse to answer, but she didn't. "Jude was a horrible chef. Not as bad as you," she added, "but horrible."

He sighed. "If I weren't so full, I'd be insulted. Hold up your cup, I'll pour you some wine."

"I don't drink."

"Neither do I, but I'm making an exception. Hold it up."

"No."

Raven reminded himself not to grit his teeth and honed his patience to a sharper edge. "Don't think I'm not flattered by your inability to take your eyes off me, Charm, but if I wake up once more and find you staring at me, I won't be responsible for my actions."