Texas Rose - By Patricia Rice Page 0,147

around and mope, either. He took the sharp edge and began to saw at Daniel's ropes.

* * *

Tyler folded his cards and laid them face down on the table, waiting for Dorset to shuffle through his own hand and make the wager. On his right, Tom was nervously sorting through his draw. Tom was half drunk and jittery as a skunk at midnight, and the nagging sense of ill-ease Tyler had had all night multiplied. He'd thought Dorset had been behind the feeling, but something nagged at the back of his mind when he didn't need the distraction. He needed to settle the sheriff's idea of fair play and get back to Evie.

As the other men laid their bets, Tyler glanced up at the crowd around him. Peyton, Harding, and Logan were still here, watching the game with drunken interest. There hadn't been any sign of Daniel or Ben. Maybe they were back at the house. Maybe they weren't. The only two things keeping him here instead of running to see how Evie fared was the gun in the sheriff's hand and Tom sitting at the table with him. If anything was happening at the livery, Tom wouldn't be here.

Tyler threw in a gold coin against Dorset's voucher and Tom's greenback. This wasn't a game he could win. Dorset had only one thing that he wanted, and Tom had nothing. If Tyler won, he won nothing but the sheriff's suspicion. If he lost, he might be free, but he would still have nothing. He didn't like the terms of this game.

He finally caught Jace's eye, and the big man wandered over, a little the worse for drink but more sober than the other two.

"Go see if Evie and the kids are all right. The boys were missing earlier, and she was worried about them."

Jason watched the fancy gambler at the card table, his fingers expertly sorting his cards beneath the frill of his shirtsleeves, his eyes never leaving the other players as he spoke. He gave a snort of contempt. "What do you care?"

The only sign of anger in Tyler's expression was a slight tightening of his jaw. "Just do what I ask, or have Peyton do it. If anything happens to me, he's the one who has to look after them."

Jason gave the sheriff standing close behind Tyler a second look, and enlightenment dawned. Through the haze of liquor, he sensed the tension. He turned wordlessly and went back to the men at the bar.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tyler saw Peyton slip out. Jason remained by the bar, but his expression had gone from complacent to wary. He would be a good man to have on his side. Tyler just hoped that was where the rancher meant to be when the aces fell.

The vouchers in front of Tyler began to grow. Without his cronies to help him cheat, Dorset was at a disadvantage. Tyler was all too aware that he was the only man at the table without a gun. Only the sheriff's presence was holding off the inevitable confrontation. Tyler knew better than to play with desperate men. On his own, he would have walked away long since. With the sheriff at his back, he kept playing.

Peyton returned and whispered to his companions. Tyler wished he could hear what they were saying but Harding's worried expression told him enough. Something was wrong back at the house. Tyler almost missed the card that Tom played.

To hell with what the sheriff thought. He had to bring this game to an end. Spreading out his hand containing three deuces, Tyler snatched Dorset's voucher from the pot and deliberately began adding up the sum owed to him.

"Three thousand dollars, Dorset. That's more than I owed in back taxes when you stole my plantation. What are you planning on putting up as collateral?" Tyler tucked the vouchers into his coat pocket.

"The night's not over, Monteigne. You're cheating. I damned well know you are. Nobody's that lucky. We're staying right here until the sheriff catches you at it."

"I'm not lucky, I'm good." Tyler swept up the greenbacks on the table and counted them. "Tom, you're about cleaned out. You sure you want to keep this up? Have you got any more saloons you want to get rid of? How about the livery? My wife's cousins are mighty fond of that stable. Maybe you want to lose that, too?"

"Shut up, fancy boy, and play. We're sitting right here until you start losing

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