out.
Nate pulled out his pocket watch. “It’s nearly five. There’s not much more we can do until I finish building the new shelves you wanted.”
“Fine.” Tamping down her irritation, she snatched up her reticule and the list of books she’d compiled for the discussion group.
“Carrie? What’s the matter?”
“You shouldn’t have spoken for me. I’m a grown woman, capable of making my own decisions.”
“You wanted to go out to the Gilmans’ place with Rutledge?”
“The only horses I’ve ever been around are farm horses. I don’t know the first thing about training racehorses. It would be fun to learn something new, that’s all.”
“And fun learning it from Griffin Rutledge, no doubt.”
“Now that you mention it, yes. I’ve never met anyone from Charleston. I enjoy talking to him.”
Nate grabbed the cash box and shoved it into the safe by the back door. He spun the dial and drew the curtains closed. “I thought we had an understanding.”
“This has nothing to do with us.” Even as she spoke the words, she was filled with doubt. Was that really true? To hide her confusion, she rummaged in her pocket for her room key.
“Tell you what,” Nate said. “Go ahead and keep company with that reprobate if you want to. I don’t care anymore.”
“Thank you for giving me permission.”
“If you loved me, you wouldn’t have to think twice about turning down his invitation.”
“Does loving one person mean having to cut everyone else out of your life?”
“No, just other men who have an obvious interest in you. If you’re starved for conversation, talk to Mariah. Or the women at the Verandah.”
“I assure you, Mr. Rutledge has no romantic interest in me whatsoever. And even if he did, nothing would come of it. He doesn’t intend to stay here long.”
“People change their minds.”
She pressed her fingertips to her tired eyes. “Please don’t be cross with me, Nate. He was only being polite.”
Nate jammed his hat onto his head. “Go ahead and pretend that’s true if it makes you feel less guilty.”
He motioned her out the door and locked the shop.
Griff reined in his hired horse and peered at the crude wooden sign nailed to a tree beside the road. Beneath the tangled undergrowth, a narrow rutted lane led deeper into the thick stand of timber. The bloated carcass of a possum lay rotting just beyond the intersection.
Griff looked around. This was the road to the gambling hall in Two Creeks? He urged the horse onto the path. A couple of miles farther on, the road widened to reveal a row of shanties on either side. Boarded-up windows, half-naked children running wild, a knot of old men smoking on a collapsed front porch bespoke the coloreds’ plight. He could imagine that what little money found its way to Two Creeks quickly found its way out, tucked into the pockets of cardsharps and con men.
At a bend in the road, he crossed a wooden bridge spanning the wide creek and saw the gambling house, a ramshackle, tin-roofed affair perched on stilts above the sluggish brown water. A couple of horses stood tethered at the rail out front. A rig he supposed was Rosaleen’s waited at the side door. He reined in, dismounted, and pushed through the door.
The air was still and thick with tobacco smoke and the smell of unwashed bodies. An ebony-skinned man behind the bar looked up, nodded, and went back to polishing a shot glass. At a pine table in a corner, two men sat drinking and talking, their hats pulled low, hiding their faces.
The side door opened, and Rosaleen swept in. Dressed in a dark blue satin dress and feathered hat, she put him in mind of an exotic flower growing in the midst of a weedy patch.
“Griff. You came. I wasn’t sure you would.”
“I said I’d be here.” He motioned her to the table. “Sit down. Let’s get this over with.”
She perched on the chair, opened her reticule, and took out a new deck of cards. “I expected a bigger crowd than this. Shall we ask those two gentlemen to join us?”
“It won’t be much of a game otherwise.”
He watched her stroll to the other table. She bent and whispered to one of the men. The two got up and followed her back to Griff’s table.
“Gentlemen,” Rosaleen said, “this is Griff Rutledge, one of the best card players between here and New Or—um, Texas.”
The taller of the two nodded and sat down across from Griff. “I heard about you. You’re the feller intendin’ to ride