A/N: This is the first in an AU series. I have no idea how many stories there will be. I just plan to add more to it whenever writing a short story strikes my fancy.
It seems pretty silly now, but when I was young I thought I knew exactly what I wanted to be and I was sure it would be the easiest path I'd ever take. I remember when I first set out on my own. I was going west so I could be a gunslinger and card sharp. I had no idea what I was doing. When I was getting provisions for my new life, I made sure I had the basics: a deck of cards, a bottle of whiskey, some cheroots, matches, and a fancy gun belt that housed a nickel plated, ivory handled Colt. I guess age and maturity have taught me what a fool I really was, but back then I thought I could take on the world and win with very little effort. I just needed to look and act the part. Then I met a man on a train and what he told me over the course of the next few years changed my life and my outlook on the world. That was the summer of 1873.
I was so sure of myself and confident in my ability to find adventure anywhere that I jumped the first train I could find going west. To this day I don't remember where it was bound. West was all I cared about. I found a nice seat in the middle of the car, facing front and put my silver spurred boots up on the seat across from me. I must have thought I was pretty hot stuff. In reality, I must have looked like an inconsiderate clod playing dress up. All of my clothes were brand new and nothing I had looked like I had used it before. I must have reminded this man of someone or perhaps he would have never kicked my feet off of the train seat.
"Git, your feet off that seat, Boy!" he said rather forcefully and scowled at me. "Show some respect for the woman who raised you."
The way he looked at me and spoke to me, I felt like I was five years old. I knew I was being disrespectful but I didn't expect to be called on it, especially not by someone like him. You have to understand, the man looked like he lived a hard, solitary life. He looked dangerous and I felt like violence would erupt at any moment. As soon as he looked me in the eye, I found out that was a false assumption, but at the time I had no reason to believe he was anything but angry and alone. His clothes were a bit on the worn and dirty side, but they weren't rags by any means. This man used to be somebody. Maybe he still was. I could tell by the matched pair of ivory handled Colts strapped to his hips that he was a gunfighter. His age, though not old by any means, was etched in his weathered features. His hair was long and tangled, but somehow I got the sense he liked it that way. He was the very image of toughness I was trying to project, but he came by it honestly and truthfully. His black hat had seen better days. It was a little sun faded and some of the hatband studs were missing. None of that seemed to matter. I knew I was in the presence of someone great.
As soon as I moved my brand new boots from the seat, He sat across from me and looked me up and down. I felt my face flush as he smiled with contempt. Then his expression softened.
"Let me guess," he said, "You're on your way west to looking for adventure at a poker table or at high noon in the street of some cow town."
The way he characterized my plan made it seem so silly.
"You're probably from some rich family back east," he continued. "They don't understand you and all the things they try to push you into don't interest you. Am I warm?"
"I guess," I said softly.
The train lurched forward and I looked out the window. My big adventure was so far a bust. This man wasn't going to take me seriously. I thought I should get off at the next stop and head back the way I came. I wasn't ready for the life I chose and he knew it.
"Here," he said tossing a worn deck of cards at me. "Let's see what you've got."
I fumbled with the box. I was more nervous than I thought I would ever be. I started to shuffle the deck and doing a few card manipulations that I had hoped would impress him. He let out a subtle chuckle as he unfolded a table top from the wall of the train car. I knew he wasn't impressed and I felt my face grow hotter the more I tried to make myself seem worthy of his company. Finally, I just dealt out a hand of poker. He lifted the corner of his pile, fanned it out, and looked at his cards. His eyes left his cards quickly and then looked over at me and frowned.
"The first thing you're gonna need, is a poker face," he said and then looked up at the ceiling of the train car. "If I had to guess, I would say you're holding three of a kind."
Stunned, I laid down my hand anchored by three jacks. "My face told you that?" I asked.
He just looked at me and shook his head. "Deal 'em again," he said. "This time try not to advertise what you've got on your face."
The man was obviously a very experienced gambler as he guessed with increasing accuracy what I was holding in my hand. We played poker all morning until an attendant came by hawking sandwiches. The man looked out the window when the vender came by. "Hey, Kid, these lessons ain't free," he said and nodded to the attendant.
"I'll take two and a sarsaparilla," I said as I fished some coins out of my saddlebags. "Do you want a sarsaparilla too?" The man declined the drink and looked curiously past me. The attendant handed me the sandwiches and I looked over at the man. He was staring at my open saddle bag. I followed his gaze to the bottle of whiskey I had stashed there.
"I'm feeling mighty dry though," the gambler said. "Why don't you crack that bottle open? Teaching you poker is mighty thirsty work."
I opened my mouth to ask why he didn't get a sarsaparilla if he was thirsty, but I thought better of it as I handed the man my brand new bottle of whiskey. I was saving it for when I reached a good town. I'd never had whiskey before and the look on the man's face convinced me he knew. He popped the cork like he'd done it a million times before and took a deep drink.
After lunch I began to deal the cards and the gambler seemed lost in thought. He took another drink and picked up the cards. He picked out two cards and placed them on the table. He tapped them and I dealt two more cards to him.
"You know you remind me of someone," he said. "He wanted to be something different than what he grew up being."
I removed one card from my hand and drew another card. I thought I caught him getting sentimental, but the look in his eye disappeared before I really had a chance to recognize it. "What was his name?" I asked.
"Ambrose," the gambler said. "Ambrose Meriwether."
"What happened to him?" I asked.
"He's dead," he said and took another drink.
I swallowed hard, and the look on the gambler's face suggested I would be wise to let any additional questions I might have about Ambrose drop.
"Your poker face is getting better," the gambler observed. "I almost didn't catch you were drawing for a straight."
I smiled and tossed my cards down. He was right, I was drawing for a straight, but it hadn't worked. "How do you know almost exactly what I have in my hand every time?" I asked.
"Your eyes," he answered plainly as he took another swig of whiskey. "Someone once told me that the eyes are the window to the soul," he said with a wry smile. "I know different, though. It is really a window into their poker hand."
I couldn't help but to return the smile.
"Deal 'em again," he said with his smile fading like he was falling back into another memory.
I spent the next hour trying to guess what the gambler was holding in his hand. I was starting to get pretty good by the end of that hour. The door at the front of the car opened rather abruptly on the last hand I had dealt. The man who walked in looked nervous and he looked around frequently, like was waiting for something. I flashed a look at the gambler and his eyes seemed to say, "Stay calm and don't make any sudden moves."
The train started to slow and I saw the nervous man by the front door lower his hand to a pistol on his hip. I looked into the gamblers eyes, but his attention was elsewhere. I was about to turn around to see what he was looking at, but the nearly imperceptible shake of his head told me I would be wise to keep my eyes on the man up by the door, so I did. Since the train was slowing noticeably, I could only assume that the train was about to be robbed and there were more people involved than the two men in our train car.
"You know how to use that thing?" the gambler asked me in a whisper as his eyes momentarily glanced at the gun holstered at my side.
"Yep," I said trying to keep the fear from my voice. Of course I knew how to use it, but I had never shot a pistol at a person before. One look back at the gambler, I knew he could tell my lack of experience.
"Don't worry," he said kindly. "Follow my lead and keep your mind on protecting yourself and the passengers on this train."
I heard the squeal of the brakes as the train slowed more dramatically. Many of the passengers started to talk a few women looked like they were about to panic. All the while, the gambler watched the person behind me and I felt compelled to watch the man behind him. I had practiced my quick draw for months before I left Pennsylvania, but I had never been in a gunfight before. I guess every man out west has to face one sooner or later and today was my day. I would just try to do as the gambler said. I would follow his lead and keep my mind on protecting the people on the train.
When the train finally came to a halt, the man behind me shot his pistol in the air. I had a pretty good idea what he would say next and he did not disappoint.
"Everyone!" he said. "This here's a robbery. Kindly take out all your valuables and hand them to the man coming around with a carpet bag. No one will be hurt if you cooperate."
All it took was one woman refusing to give up her wedding ring and these men suddenly became trigger happy.
The gambler drew his guns and he was the fastest I'd ever seen. He turned sideways to the doors and took out both the men in our car. He didn't see the third one coming through the front door from the engine. The man had the drop on the gambler and was about to take the shot.
I felt my body just take over. My hand knew just what to do. I didn't even have to decide. I felt my pistol in my hand and I felt the rapid fire of a couple of shots as they rang out. The third man fell in the doorway of the train car. I couldn't help staring at him as he fell. I think I may have even seen the light go out of his eyes.
The train conductor came in and said there were only three of them and that we were all safe now. He and a couple of other men took the robbers out of the car. He said we would be leaving in a few minutes.
I was in shock. I knew it. I remember the gambler lowering my gun for me and handing me my bottle of whiskey.
"Here, drink this," he said.
I took a sip and looked at the pistol in my hand. Slowly, I released the trigger. I killed a man. I had never done anything like that before. I took another drink. The second sip didn't register any better than the first. It must have burned going down because I coughed. I looked up at the gambler and he laughed quietly at me.
"That was your first," he said without it being a question. His face was kind.
All I could do was nod. My voice had left me and my mind was numb.
We spent the rest of train ride finishing that bottle. We didn't talk much. I think it was better that way. When the train finally reached its destination I was at a loss as to what to do. I had such big plans and now everything had changed. I followed the gambler out of the train car and onto the platform. I watched as he started to walk into the town. It was then that I realized I had no idea if I would ever see the gambler again.
"Hey, I never got your name!" I said calling after him.
"It's Jimmy," he said, "Jimmy Hickok."
"I'm Thad," I called back. "Thaddeus Pembroke."
Jimmy continued down the street toward the town and stopped. "Well, Thaddeus, are you coming or not?" he asked as he turned to face me.
I smiled and ran to catch up with him. It would be the beginning of a very interesting friendship.
A/N: I must thank both Leah and Sarah for looking at this story and helping me brainstorm the train robbery. Thanks also to all the ladies on the plus for the constant encouragement and support. I love you all! Thanks to all the readers to. You all are awesome.