Gambler Don't Come Cheap

Chapter 11 – The Weight of the World

The morning passed before Arthur Ridgeway and Jasper Fielding returned to Bart's room. He was still sleeping and her father pulled Millie aside so they wouldn't wake him. "We managed to get the game delayed."

"How long, dad?"

"Just until tomorrow, Millie. But that's better than tonight."

She shook her head, wondering how he was going to be ready to play tomorrow. "That's not much help."

"It was the best we could do, given the circumstances."

"Do I even want to know what you two did?"

Arthur and Jasper exchanged glances and both chuckled. Her father gave the answer. "Let's just say Mr. Johnson was called out of town on an emergency and begged for a twenty-four-hour delay, which we were all too happy to agree to."

They were startled to hear Bart's voice from the bed. "Good work. I'll be ready by tomorrow."

Millie hurried over to his bedside. "You can't possibly play again tomorrow. You'll kill yourself."

"I'd laugh but it would hurt," he told her. "I'll be ready to play. Quit worrying." He looked at the two men. "What does a fella have to do to get some food around here?"

"Breakfast? Lunch? Supper? Anything you want. What good is money if you can't spend it?" Arthur was in a much better mood, knowing that they'd bought Bart an extra day of rest.

"Breakfast, please. Bacon and eggs. And coffee. Lots of coffee."

Arthur Ridgeway hurried off to get the injured man something to eat.

Jasper helped Bart sit up in bed while Millie piled pillows behind him, then continued to hover until Bart reached up and grabbed her hand. "Sit down. I'm fine."

She looked at him skeptically. "I saw you collapse into that bed. You're not fine."

He gave a short laugh and grabbed his ribs. "I would be if you'd sit down." His breath was coming in short, shallow bursts. His hands were cold and clammy but he was no longer sweating. "Do you want me to get up and make you sit down?"

Millie smiled; he really was quite charming. "Yes sir." She finally sat, he still had hold of her hand. She'd only been there a moment when he started coughing. She grabbed one of the pillows and held it against his ribs while he choked and gagged. The effort left him exhausted and in renewed pain.

"How'd you know – " he started.

"My brother. A mule kicked him and broke three ribs when he was twelve. That's what Doctor Morris told us to do."

"And you brother is ?" he questioned.

"Dead," she responded. 'Killed in the war. You have any brothers or sisters?"

"A brother. And a cousin who's more brother than cousin. Us three boys were raised together. And a sister. She's in Montana." He had to stop talking; he could barely breathe.

'Why were you in Boulder?"

"A poker game."

"And before that?"

"Denver. Colorado Springs. Pueblo. Durango. Silver Creek. Don't remember before that."

"Don't you ever stay in one place?" She wondered what it would be like to travel around, free.

He watched her eyes and tried to guess what she was thinking. "No reason to."

"Would you stay somewhere if you had a reason?"

"Depends on the reason."

They were talking in circles, and it made her want to laugh. Even when you couldn't get a straight answer out of him, he kept you amused. "You have a sweetheart somewhere?"

Ah, the light came on in his head. "Nope."

"A wife?"

He hesitated, then finally answered her. "Nope."

She heard a note of remorse in his voice and had to ask. "You had a wife?"

"Yes." Now regret.

"Where is she?"

He sighed, and remembered that he shouldn't do that. Nothing was easy the way he felt. "Buried in New Mexico."

"Oh." They sat quietly for a moment. "Sorry."

"It was a long time ago."

She looked at him carefully. He wasn't more than twenty-six or twenty-seven; it couldn't have been that long ago. There was one more question that she had to ask. "Childbirth?" He seemed like the kind of man that would want children, and be good with them.

"Murdered." Just the way he answered made her know she wasn't asking any more questions.

Now it was Bart's turn. "You and Morgan Edwards – how long did that last?"

"Too long," was her reply. "From the time I was sixteen until last year. Too long."

"What ended it?"

"He chose a side. It wasn't my father's."

"No chance for reconciliation?" He liked this girl. Another independent, spirited woman. And a beauty.

"None." Why was he asking? There was that kiss. "Bart?"

"Mmmmhmmm."

"Why are you doing this? Playing for my father? Besides the money, I mean?"

"I like your father." Wasn't that a good enough reason?

"You're risking your life. You've already seen how far Seth Johnson will go to win and have my father permanently out of his hair."

"I don't like bullies." He tried to move and winced in pain. "I forgot. Don't move."

Finally Arthur arrived with food and coffee. Bart wasn't sure which one he was more grateful for. Millie stayed and helped; when he was done with all but the coffee she moved everything out of the way. "We're not done, you know," she told him.

"Oh? What else do you want to know, Miss Ridgeway?"

"Why you're determined to finish this card game."

He smiled. That was about the only thing he could do without debilitating pain, and even that hurt where Raymond had caught him in the face. "I have a vested interest in my boss's daughter."

Millie blushed but smiled back. 'I wish you did,' she thought to herself. "I should go. You need to sleep."

He caught her hand again. "I wish you'd stay. You're a lot prettier to look at than those two." He inclined his head towards the two older men, who were over in the corner of the suite discussing something passionately, from the look of things.

"Alright, I will for a while. If you'll go to sleep. Is it a deal?'

"It's a deal," he told her and closed his eyes. He still held her hand, but in just a few minutes he fell asleep and his grip on her went limp. She sat there for a while, holding on to his hand, and closed her own eyes. It was easy to imagine that he was hers; the long, slender fingers wrapped in her hair and pulling her close to him. She hurriedly opened her eyes and blushed; she barely knew the man. What was happening here?

Arthur watched his daughter sit with the gambler and wondered how this would all end. There was something more here than just a contract; this had become personal to Bart Maverick, whoever he was. He was sure Millie was falling in love with the man; he'd seen her like this only once before, and that was with Morgan Edwards. He feared she'd get hurt; at the same time he hoped she'd finally get over Morgan.

Bart needed rest, and someone to help him when he was awake. It looked like Millie was willing to fulfill that job; they'd have to come up with a new plan by tomorrow afternoon. Arthur and Jasper left to confer and plan, knowing that Wyoming's fate rested squarely on the broad shoulders of the gambling man.