"We? How did you drag me into this?"
"Well, I kinda used our money in the poker game."
"And you won?"
"Yep. Looks like we own . . . . . . . "
And that was as far as I got before Bret hauled off and hit me. Just out and out hit me, with a left hook I didn't know he had. To say he was a bit upset was putting it mildly.
What had I won on our first night in Natchez that had him so disturbed? Mad enough that he'd haul off and knock me down and leave me sitting on the floor and rubbing the newly created sore spot on my jaw? Glaring at me like I'd just betrayed him?
"Are you gonna just leave me here?" I asked him.
The only answer I got back from him was a "Hmmmmpf!" Finally he reached out a hand and helped pull me back up to my feet. Then he started laughing, like he'd just heard the funniest joke I'd ever told. "You did not win that!"
"Oh, yes I did," I answered, and made sure I was out of his reach just in case he decided to do it again. What was it that caused the unexpected reaction? Only the finest whorehouse in Natchez!