Author's Notes: Yay! Chapter two! I forgot this last chapter, but many, many thanks to my beta, BellaWriter7. Without her help and suggestions, this story wouldn't be nearly as good as it is. If you aren't reading her story, Healing Blood, I highly suggest you do. It's the Sookie and Eric we wanted in DITF, at least, I think so. I also want to thank my ex, who gave me some gun tips. He doesn't read SVM fanfic, but still, it saved me some time and trouble. Enough of my babbling, enjoy the chapter.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of SVM. I'm just playing with them, like play-doh. I shape and mold them to my liking and stick them in fun situations.
The Gambler and The Lady
Chapter Two
EPOV
I watched Sookie lean over the shoulder of an elderly man at one of the poker tables as I held the cloth to my nose. I couldn't believe that little filly had given me a bloody nose. Now, I was no stranger to violence. I had been born to violence, the son of a bank robber. My father was a harsh man who only came around when he was on the run from the law. When he was around, he took his rage of being tracked by marshals out on my mother. I can't remember how many times I'd seen her weeping in bed with a black eye or bruises. I left home when I was 15, making my way with the cards.
I was already a fair hand at cards when I left home. It was the one good thing that bastard of a father taught me, and I got better once my survival depended on it. It'd been a tough row to hoe at first. I'd had my runs of bad luck. But they taught me to be smart. I learned to use a gun, and I got to be a pretty good shot, which came in handy when I was in a slump. Seemed there was always some rich man traveling west who needed some hired muscle, and I was happy to oblige. That was pretty easy money right there, but I kept going back to gambling. The cards, they loved me, even when they hated me.
The old man leaned back as Sookie rested her hands on his shoulder, his cards held protectively to his chest. That move told me that he didn't trust the ones he played with, probably with good reason so I marked those faces in my memory. Her hands, red and swollen, squeezed the man's shoulders in a comforting gesture. How was it that someone with dainty hands and a kind heart packed such a wallop of a punch?
In all my 30 years in and out of saloons, I'd been punched plenty. But never by the likes of the proper Miss Stackhouse . The only women I'd ever see punch a man were the tough whores in big cities or ones like the lady sheriff of Desire. Sookie did not look like the type who settled things with her fists. She also didn't seem like the type who made her living in a saloon. So many contradictions wrapped up in a pretty little bundle of blonde.
A man moved up beside me and offered me a whiskey. "Want me to look at that nose for ya?" He had a hard northern accent so he wasn't from around here. I gingerly lowered the cloth and touched my nose, hissing with pain. Only after that did I look at the man who offered to look at my nose. He was a tall man, but not as tall as me. His hair was a pale blonde, as if he spent his time in the sun. His eyes were a light blue that twinkled with amusement as he gazed down at me behind a pair of small spectacles. He was dressed in a crisp black suit with a burgundy vest, a gold chain tucked into a vest pocket. "Who are you?"
The man offered me his hand. "Doctor Niall Brigant."
I swiped my hand over the cloth to wipe away any blood and shook his hand. "Northman and no, I don't believe that I'll be needing your services. Doesn't feel broken." Niall gave my nose a careful look. "Doesn't look broken."
"I've had worse." I said even though breathing through my nose stung sharply. I took the whiskey sitting in front of me and tossed it back. I planned on getting drunk enough to forget this evening. I'd made one hell of an impression with the locals and getting drunk couldn't make it worse.
"A man like you, I imagine that you have," replied the Doc and then he gave me a conspiratorial look. "But never by a woman, right?"
I shrugged. "I've seen many things over the years. I will admit that I was surprised by her reaction to my offer."
Doc Brigant leaned against the bar. "Why should that surprise you?" I gave him a look that clearly stated, 'Are you kidding me?' Just what kind of games were these people playing? A saloon singer who was not a whore? Locals who didn't find it all that shocking that my advances were rejected by Sookie? This town was crazy, none of it made sense. Obviously they were cut from a different cloth than the rest of the country.
"Women who work in saloons don't usually turn down a customer," I stated dryly.
"You've never met a woman like Miss Sookie before. She might work in a saloon, but she is not your average saloon gal," the doctor said with a laugh. "Sam warned you didn't he?"
"He said that she was a lady." I snorted, and winced at the pain. "I've heard that before. Give the gal the illusion of being proper and unattainable to drive up the price." I said mildly, amused when his back stiffened and his eyes flashed.
"Sookie is a lady, born and bred."
"The ladies I've met would never be caught dead in a saloon, much less working in one." I shrugged. I couldn't say why I was interested in Sookie's story, but after hearing from two people that she was a lady, I wanted to know more. You just didn't run into people like this. I could understand why Sam and Sookie would insist that she was a lady, after all it was just business, But the doctor? Did he get a cut of whatever Sookie made? Was he the one who brought Sookie to the saloon to work?
"Desire is not your usual town." Doc said. "And Sookie's not your usual lady."
I laughed. I just couldn't help myself. I laughed until I was almost doubled over and my nose hurt again. My laughter was drawing the attention of everyone in the place so I struggled to control myself. When I finally stopped laughing, I looked at the Doc. "Not your usual town? You have a woman sheriff. I'd say you're a world apart."
"Yup. Pam's unique, too." He chomped a cigar between his teeth and narrowed his eyes at me. "You'd do well to remember that." He smiled and blew smoke in my face.
I swirled the whiskey around in the glass. "Is that a warning, Doc?"
Niall laughed and clamped a hand on my shoulder. "I think we understand each other."
I lifted the glass and poured the last of the whiskey into my gullet considering his words as I watched Sookie, who was leaning against a table and watching the Doc, worry in her eyes. Clearly he had some sort of affection for Sookie, otherwise he would not be so quick to jump to her defense. A doctor who favored a singer… Maybe that was why she didn't take customers? Just the thought of Sookie involved with an old man like Doc Brigant made me shake with rage. I swallowed and the whiskey burned a path to my gut. I coughed. Where had that come from? I barely knew the girl but I already knew that I wanted no one touching her but me.
I set the the empty glass down and looked around. Sookie, who had been talking to a group of men at a poker table, was gone. When had she slipped out? And more important, where had she gone? And who with? Frowning, I pushed away from the bar and headed towards the swinging double doors. Halfway there, someone stepped into my path. It was Pam, the lady sheriff.
I hooked my fingers in my belt and studied her. She was petite, which made me wonder just how good she was with the gun strapped to her side. She'd have to be real good to compensate for her lack of height. I didn't pay attention to her physical appearance. She just didn't appeal to me like that, though I did note that her eyes were just a few shades darker than mine. This was a woman who knew how to handle herself. She held herself with authority, hands resting comfortably on her hips as she studied me under the brim of her hat. Self-confidence and control radiated off her and I had a feeling that not all it came from the badge pinned to her shirt.
"Sheriff." I said politely, raising my fingers to tip my hat towards her even as I looked over her head to see if I could spot Sookie.
"How's your nose?" she asked with a grin.
I narrowed my eyes at her, causing her to chuckle. My nose was going to be the talk of the town for weeks. I would go down in town history as the fella who got decked by the saloon singer. A lady of a saloon singer. "Just fine. Barely even stings."
"That's a big ole lie if I've ever heard one," she snorted. "I'm the one who taught Sookie how to punch so I know it hurts."
"Maybe I'm just made of tougher stuff than you locals," I replied dryly, arching a brow. So she taught Sookie to punch? Interesting.
Sheriff Pam's eyes raked down my body and I got the distinct impression that this filly was in the market even if Miss Sookie was not. My lips curved up in a slow smile and I watched her steadily. She may not be my Sookie, and she might be a woman with a hell of a left hook, if her pupil was any example, but she was a woman, and I was an admirer of their kind. Her gaze shifted back to my face.
She held my gaze unflinchingly, which earned respect from me as I was used to men taking one look at me and backing away. I held my ground as she took two steps closer, leaving inches between us, and tilted her head back, a slight smirk on her lips."You are definitely not made like the locals, I'll give you that. Let me just give you a piece of advice on how things go on here in Desire. We are a good town, good people. We don't have trouble here and we don't want trouble, you understand? Watch your step around here and we'll get along just fine."
I sucked my teeth and looked past her. Another warning. Either these people took their peace seriously, or they were upset with me for upsetting the little blonde singer. Being a gambling man, I put my money on the singer. She was still looking at me when I glanced back down at her, waiting for some kind of reply. I gave her a quick nod. "I'm just here for the cards, Sheriff. I'll be moving on in a few weeks."
Pam nodded and patted me on the chest once before stepping back. "Then we have nothing to worry about."
She turned and walked away, heading over to the stage and piano. I followed her movements and saw Sookie was back and preparing to sing. When had she come back into the room? I didn't see her re-enter, just like I didn't see her leave. Was she a fantasy? I watched as Sookie leaned down and her breasts strained against the low cut fabric of her gown. I shifted as I felt myself go hard. No woman has ever had that kind of affect on me. Usually it took more than just a teasing glimpse of breasts to make me hard. There was no question about it, I had to have Sookie in my bed, if only to get her out of my system.
Sookie leaned down to hear something Pam said and then she looked at me, blue eyes narrowed. I had no idea what the sheriff said, but it put a fire in the pretty little blonde's eyes. I kinda liked it. I smiled slowly at Sookie and tipped my hat to her as I winked. Well that stoked the fire real well. Sookie straightened and glared at me before turning to say something to the man at the piano. He started to play a jaunty . I watched as Sookie opened that perfect mouth and sang.
I was on my way out but suddenly I found myself bellying up to a poker table and settling in for the duration. Her voice. It was Miss Sookie's voice. I absently took my cards but kept my attention on Miss Sookie and the way her breasts rose and fell with each note.
With great effort, I turned back to my cards. I was going to have to learn to block out her voice if I wanted to make any money. It was a tough battle, tougher than the hand I'd been dealt. Maybe that was Sam's game: he had Sookie distract the players, making it easier for his men to win. It wouldn't be the first time I saw a set up like this. As much as I liked the sound of her voice, I didn't come this far to let a pretty face and perfect body distract me from winning my game.
SPOV
Over the years, I had become very good at singing and watching the patrons at the saloon without forgetting the words of my songs. So I was able to sing, a bright smile on my face as I moved around the stage, and watch Northman as he sat and played poker. It figured that he was a gambler. I knew there was something about him I didn't like, even before he dishonored me with his offer. Gamblers, the whole lot of them, needed to be tossed off a mountain.
As I sang and watched the tall gambler, I thought about what Pam told me right before I took the stage. She'd warned Northman to leave me be. She also complimented me on my efficient right hook. I was glad for the praise but my hand still hurt. Doc had taken a look at it during my break and thank goodness nothing was broken. It would be sore for a few days. I blamed Northman for that, of course. He had a face like a rock. I was lucky that Pam found it so amusing instead of hauling me off to the jail for the night for causing a ruckus. Friend or not, Pam upheld the law.
I spent the rest of the evening singing and making rounds throughout the room. Sam liked for me to circle the tables and make sure that the players were happy. I steered clear of Northman's table, though-not because I wanted to but because Sam ordered it. He seemed to think either I wouldn't be able to control my temper or Northman wouldn't be able to control his mouth. Both options ended with my knuckles meeting his whisker-covered face. Couldn't say I blamed Sam. I kinda thought that way too.
I leaned over the shoulder of Old Man Bellefluer, whiskey in one hand, the other on his shoulder. I liked the old man, who came in the saloon two or three nights a week. He was kind of addled in the mind and made his money doing odd jobs around the town, including cleaning up the saloon when it closed down for the night. He wasn't very smart and the ride to Denver was too much to him, so he didn't keep his money in a bank. Each night he came in, he'd pick a table to play at and gamble away a small amount of money. Sometimes he won, but mostly he didn't. Tonight he was down by a dollar, which to him, was a lot. Poor sap.
I patted his shoulder and offered him my whiskey. "Why don't you take this, Mr. Bellefluer. Maybe it will bring you some luck."
He grinned up at me, revealing several missing and broken teeth. "Thank you, Miss Sookie, you are a good gal, you know. A good gal."
I pressed the glass into his hand and patted him on the shoulder. "I'm glad you think so. You have a good game, alright? Don't lose all your money."
He laughed as I walked over to the bar. It was time for me to head to the boarding house that I made my home. It was run by Hoyt's mama, Mrs. Fortenberry, who at first did not want me living there. It took a good deal of persuasion to convince her that I was not some harlot and that I would not disgrace her good name. The old bat. Hoyt didn't live with his mama, thank God. If he had, there was no way I'd be living there. I did not need the rumors that would follow me if I lived in the same house as the man who played the piano while I sang.
When I passed Sam, he asked me to come in early the next afternoon. I agreed to, even though I didn't know why he'd want me in early. My hours didn't start until late afternoon, when business picked up. During the day, the only people who came into the saloon were the die hard drinkers and gamblers. Desire might be a small town, but we were on the way to the gold mines, so we got our fair share of vagrants and gamblers. I ducked into the small storeroom behind the bar and collected my heavy shawl. I wrapped it tight around me. It was not just protection against the chill in the night air. My clothes as a singer was rather revealing and walking around outside without the protection provided by Sam was dangerous.
I waved to several of regulars and stepped outside. The cool night air chased away the scent of smoke and whiskey and I took a good, long breath. The road was quiet, the only sound from the saloon behind me as I started walking towards the lamp hanging outside the boarding house at the edge of town. It was late, past midnight, and the town was asleep. Though my steps were brisk, I did take my time strolling down the road. I treasured these moments and drank in the quiet. The sky was a clear inky black, the stars twinkling far above. The moon was just a sliver in the sky, barely even noticeable.
There was a sound behind me and I froze mid-step, my heartbeat increasing. Suddenly the quiet didn't seem so peaceful. The shadows were deeper, scarier. My hand trembled as I slipped it into the small pocket sewed into the skirt of my singing gown. My fingers wrapped around the cold steel of a small derringer. The gun was a gift from Pam, who said that if I was going to walk the streets at night I should have some sort of protection. She drilled me in shooting until my aim was passable. Of course, being a derringer, it was almost useless unless someone was right in front of me.
With the reassurance of the gun in my hand, I clenched the shawl to me tighter and started back towards the boarding house, picking up my pace. I wanted to get home and into the safety of the house. Mrs. Fortenberry left the door unlocked for me, though she didn't like it. She also had a habit of staying awake until I got in. Something about making sure I didn't bring anyone back with me. Bitter old lady. I would have felt guilty about thinking badly about the woman who opened her home to me but the sounds behind me picked up. Someone was following me.
Heart in my throat, I whirled as I wrestled the derringer out of my pocket. "Whose there?"
Like silk floating on air I heard a voice I never wanted to hear again. "You should put that toy down before someone gets hurt."
Northman. For half a second I thought about screaming, knowing that it would just be seconds before someone came out of the saloon to see what was going on. But for some reason I paused. Blame it on curiosity. I wanted to know why he was after me. If he thought that he'd talk me into going to his room with him, he had another think coming. "Why are you following me?"
"Why don't you put the gun down first, little lady?" He stepped into the faint light provided by flame flickering at the boarding house. We were a hundred feet away and close enough that I thought I might make it if I decided I had to run. Even if I didn't make it, since I had no idea how fast Northman was, one good scream would break the silence of the night and bring everyone who was awake into the streets. Pam was still at the saloon and she would not shy away from running into danger if a woman screamed.
I kept the small gun aimed at him. "Take another step and I'll shoot you."
He laughed-actually laughed-at me. "Sweetheart, that little toy you got there won't do much to me at this distance."
I shrugged, the shawl slipping down my shoulders. "Oh I don't know, it might do something, if I aim at the right spot." I shifted my aim lower, aiming for the part that all men were proud of. He actually winced, which I found immensely satisfying.
Now, you don't want to do that." Northman said cautiously.
"Why not? You are following me after I clearly refused your advances. Not a soul in this town would blame me," I said with a grim smile.
Northman eyed me. "You are one strange woman."
"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked crossly. Never before I had I been called strange. I've been called lots of other names, plenty of them nasty, but never strange. What did it mean exactly, to be strange?
"Just that you are supposedly a lady, who works in a saloon, and you carry a toy gun. Also, proper ladies would not aim a gun at a gentleman's manhood for simply seeing her safely home." He laughed.
Fire burned through my veins at that. My lips twisted into a scowl and I shook the gun at him. "You don't know me, buddy, so you shouldn't judge me. I am a lady, thank you very much. I work in a saloon because I don't have a choice. And I carry a toy gun, as you put it, because it is the only protection I have. As for a gentleman, well, when I see one, then I will lower my gun."
"Whoa, whoa, hold your horses there, young miss," Northman said and he took two steps closer. I could see his eyes twinkling at me and my stomach got that tingly feeling again when I saw just how pale those blue eyes were. I had never seen such a beautiful shade of blue on a man before.
"My horses are just fine, Mr. Northman," I tugged my shawl back up around my shoulders and gripped the gun harder, feeling the steel bite into my palm. "I'm tired, I've been on my feet all night, I stink of smoke and booze and some showboating stranger took me for a whore. So you'll excuse me if I'd like to put this night to bed. And now look at you —keeping me out here in the cold even though I turned down your advances." I finally lowered the gun. My arm was tired, almost shaking from being held in one position for so long, and, besides, I figured if he was going to try something, he'd have done it already.
"I'm out here in the cold because I wanted to apologize. I meant no offense." His tone was soft.
"The hell you didn't." I countered, losing control of my temper. "You were told that I don't do the things that the other girls do. Yet you still had to try, which tells me that you didn't believe Sam, who had no reason to lie to you. So yes, you did mean to offend me, because all you were thinking about was that thing between your legs."
"You are awfully crude for a lady," he said, completely ignoring what I had said.
That did it. Sure, I might have been a little bit crude, but I was just that tired. My mama would have had my head for speaking like that. A lady wasn't supposed to talk about a man like that, but I had been married. I knew about men and what they wanted. Plus I worked in a saloon. I might not work upstairs, but I'd be stupid not to know what went on up there.
"Maybe I'm just different from the ladies you know. Though, I'd be surprised if a man like you knew what a lady truly was." I turned away from him and looked back. "But none of that is my concern. Good evening, Mr. Northman."
The only warning I had was the whisper of air moving behind me and his hand closed around my upper arm. Before I knew it, he had spun me around and pulled me tight against his chest. I raised my hand to shove and met solid flesh that was warm under my hand. I stared up at him, amazed at how intense his gaze was and the way his hair fell forward to frame his face. I was used to seeing men with long hair, but never with hair that looked so soft and silky, or that shade of blonde. Suddenly nervous, I licked my lips.
I had no idea what was going on in his head, but I could read his intent. I opened my mouth to protest, to tell him off, when his lips covered mine. He tasted of whiskey and never before had whiskey tasted so good. All the fight went out of me and the gun fell from my hand as I gripped his shirt. I whimpered as his tongue brushed over my lower lip and it wasn't a whimper of protest. I pressed into him, felt his body against mine and felt like I was on fire. My hands were halfway to his neck when I heard laughter behind him. That brought me back to myself and I shoved against him. He wasn't expecting it and stumbled back.
I stood there, panting hard, and raised a hand to my lips. They were swollen and sensitive. My chest heaved as I dragged breath into my lungs and stared at Northman. He stared back at him, just as shaken as I was. In that moment, that one kiss, there was so much passion that it had threatened to consume me. Not even Bill had affected me like that. Northman took a step towards me and I shook my head at him, unable to speak. I turned and rushed towards the boarding house, more confused than I had ever been. Northman did not follow and I was grateful. If he had, I would have given myself to him just to feel that burn he created within me again.
I opened the door to the boarding house and turned, halfway into the house. Northman stood in the center of the street, staring at me. I couldn't see his eyes, but I felt his stare and his desire. Then, in a gesture that made me bite my lip, he bowed and swept his hat off in a gallant gesture. I scowled at him and stepped fully into the house, closing the door behind me. I leaned against it, giving into my laughter, trying to keep quiet and not wake the others in the house. That kiss sure was unforgettable but I had no idea what it meant for my future. I wasn't sure I wanted to know because I had a feeling that Northman was going to put a big kink in my plans to leave Desire.
I saw Mrs. Fortenberry coming out of the drawing room to stare at me. I'm sure I was a sight to see, disheveled and laughing. I straightened up and smiled at her. She glowered as I made my way up the stairs and to the little room I paid for monthly. She obviously thought that I had finally slipped and took part in the seedier aspects of the saloon. Little did she know how close I had come. Heaven knows what would have happened if we hadn't been interrupted. I might have —would have— broken my cardinal rule. Never get involved with a gambler. Suddenly I was very tired and didn't want to worry about the consequences of that stolen kiss. I collapsed on my bed, promising that I'd think more on this matter in the morning, and fell asleep in my clothes.
Author's Notes: Omg what a kiss. Anyone remember the tawdry historical romances your mother would read? Or was it just my mother? Anyways, think those when reading this fic, because that is what this is. A tawdry historical romance. So, lots of lemony goodness in the future. Thanks for reading and leave a review, I love hearing from fellow SVM fans.
