It always amazed Kid how much he disliked coming into saloons and cantinas, especially when he had once spent so much time in them before he met Ruth.
His eyes alighted onto a familiar face at once. If Señor Martinez was surprised to see Kid there, he didn't let it show. He stood up from a table that he shared with 2 other men. "Ah, Señor Cole. You must be feeling better. Come play a game of poker with us."
Just the invitation he was hoping for. "We playing for real money? Cause I'm looking to make a little."
"What would be the fun of poker if we didn't?" returned Señor Martinez.
Kid sat down at the small and rough-hewn, circular table and matched the money on the table.
"This is Señor Garcia and Señor Vela," Señor Martinez introduced.
"How do you do?" Kid asked.
Both men nodded, understanding the tone if not the words. And apparently Kid needed no introduction.
The one across from him doled out the cards.
Kid looked at his hand. His odds were good. 3 of the cards were queens. He at least had 3 of a kind and if luck was on his side, he thought as he traded in the other 2, he might even pull off a full house or 4 of a kind.
No such luck though as he examined the new cards, but 3 of a kind was nothing to sniff at. Kid prided himself on his poker face. Whether he had a winning hand or a losing hand, he didn't so much as twitch, allowing him to bluff or not as needed.
He studied the other 3 men's faces. Señor Martinez didn't look as if he cared whether he won or lost. One had an unreadable expression and the other wore a look of glee, which may have been a deception in itself. Time would tell.
None of the men folded and they all put down their hands. Kid won that one, which none of the men looked thrilled about it as there were quite a few silver coins on the table.
"Is there a judge in town?" Kid asked as he swept most of his winnings into the small burlap bag he's brought, keeping only enough out for the next bet.
"Por qué?" Señor Martinez said, lapsing into Spanish at his surprise.
"I have need of his services," Kid answered.
"Is your lucky night all around then. He is due in the next day or two for a case over land lines," Señor Martinez informed him.
He didn't know whether to be relieved or upset that he was coming that soon. He supposed he felt a little of both. "You lived here long?"
"Sí. I been in Tuscon, 10 years."
As the next round began and cards were passed around. Kid continued his line of questioning. "How easy is it to get a divorce around here?"
"You-you don't mean-"
"That's exactly what I mean," Kid interrupted, having lost his patience long before he came into the saloon. "How easy is it?"
"Not impossible," he answered. He looked as if he wanted to ask the reason but had the smarts to realize now was not the time.
Señor Martinez translated their conversation though Kid rather wished he hadn't, but the men might get upset otherwise and think it had something to do with the card game.
One of the men burst into laughter, causing Kid to grit his teeth. He caught the words esposa and buena mujer, but Kid's Spanish was too rusty to make it all out.
Señor Martinez translated into English. "He says you are divorcing the preacher lady. That is rich. Wait until I tell my wife. She has not stopped talking about what a good woman she is."
Kid grabbed the laughing man by the collar and dragged him partway across the table. "What happens between my wife and me is our business. Tell him. And she is a good woman. If I ever hear rumors to the contrary, the person who started it will regret it."
The man nodded vigorously after the translation and Kid let him go.
"But you will hurt her good name just by divorcing her," Señor Martinez said quietly.
He knew it was true, but he didn't see what he could do about it. He was caught between a rock and a hard spot. Doomed if he did and doomed if he didn't.
He saw it from the corner of his eye, a man reaching into his pocket for a gun. His reaction was instantaneous. Situations like this left you no time to think. If you did, you weren't the fastest draw in the west anymore but just a has-been lying in a pine box 6 feet under.
"Muerto," pronounced the man closest to the shot man after feeling for a pulse.
Kid always shot to wing, but an unexpected jerk from his target threw the bullet off course. He felt no satisfaction at the killing. He shook his head sadly. What a waste of life. It was a shame Sister Ruth hadn't gotten to him first to convince him there was a better way.
Nobody seemed to know the dead man. Just a drifter looking to raise a little Cain as he passed through town after town. Kid knew that type all too well. The deceased had clearly hoped to be the man who could say he'd killed Kid Cole, but the consumption had done beat him to the title, Kid thought darkly.
A couple of the men hauled the body out and activities resumed, including his poker game.
If the other players had thought about cheating, they didn't think about it anymore. Their cards shook at witnessing his almost inhuman speed and Kid had no trouble cleaning them out. But he wouldn't have been surprised if they'd thrown the game on purpose to keep from angering him. He didn't really care one way or the other though.
Señor Martinez had been so good to them though and he did feel a little bad about taking his money, but if he could afford to leave a perfectly good oven and little house standing, he wasn't hurting too bad financially.
He called it quits after about half an hour. No use pushing his luck because that was essentially what the card game boiled down to was luck and he hated that he'd left Ruth alone with that man for that long anyway.
sss
Ruth chattered on to the Indian fellow. More so than usual because it was rather unnerving his constant looking at her without speaking. Couldn't be helped she suppose unless she wanted to listen to him chatter on in Apache.
At first, she spoke of light topics like the weather and the fact that Christmas was a mere week away, but her mind kept circling back to the impending divorce and her tongue found its way there too.
"The bad thing is I never saw it coming," she said after telling him of all that had transpired. "How do you fix a broken marriage if the other person doesn't want to fix it?" Her talking out loud may have been pointless, as the hearer didn't understand, but it felt good to talk about it to another person just the same.
"And in less than 9 months, I'll have a sweet little baby that I'll have to be mother and father to. Oh, God will provide for us, I know. I'm not worried so much about that. It just saddens me that Kid's going to miss out on that blessing, that he wants to miss out on that blessing. There's no one in the world I'd rather be the father of my baby believe it or not even knowing he doesn't want me anymore. He could be a good one; I know it. But you just can't make someone be something that they don't want to be, can you? Not a husband or a father. And he doesn't. Won't keep me from praying he has a change of heart though."
She sighed and looked at the Indian still looking at her. Still acting as if he were listening. "Here I am going on about my baby and marital problems and I haven't even introduced myself. Ruth," she said pointing to herself.
He caught on right away and pointed with his chin down to himself. "Nitis."
"That's a nice-sounding name, Nitis. I wonder what it means. My name's from the Bible. A preacher who studied Hebrew told me once that it means friend. Wish I had more of them right now. That's the thing about moving like I do. Lots of acquaintances and few friends. Leastways you seem like a friend. That's something. And I got one friend that's always with me. I reckon I should be talking more to Him about all this."
She realized she hadn't opened her Bible since Kid had delivered the news. This was the first place she should have gone to His Word. So she turned to Proverbs, knowing the passage she wanted to read. The last chapter that spoke of how to be a good wife.
"'Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies. The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil. She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life.'"
She read silently as it expounded on being industrious and a help.
She returned to speaking out loud as she neared the end. "'Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come. She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness. She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness."
She closed the Bible again. "Maybe it's because I haven't had a household to run, but he said that wasn't it. I reckon I have been a mite hard to live with at times, but there ain't a human being alive that ain't hard to live with some of the time. You married, Nitis? If you're not, consider yourself blessed. And think carefully before you take a wife."
Kid came in without knocking.
"He woke up," she said.
"I can see that." He threw a bag of money in her lap, heavy with coin.
Why did the money suddenly make her feel cheap? She could smell the cigar smoke on him that had collected on his clothes from the smoker behind him. "You got this gambling."
"Does it matter? I haven't lost any money and that's a tidy little sum there. Enough to buy a house if you wanted to. It's not much on such short notice, but it's something and I'll see if I can't collect some more money before the divorce is official."
A house might be a need. A place she could have the baby. A place where she was sure her child would always have a roof over his or her head if worse became worse because the pittance she received from her ministry varied with the fortunes and generosity of the givers. A house could be handy indeed. "Beggars can't be choosers, I guess."
"Tell me where in the Bible does it say thou shalt not gamble or play poker?" he asked.
"It says plenty about being wise with money and gambling ain't being wise."
"But if you don't let it become an addiction, become unwise about it, there's nothing inherently wrong with, is there?"
She only pursed her lips at him. It wouldn't be kindness in her tongue if she continued this conversation.
"Has he been agreeable?" he asked as he replaced the bullet in his gun from earlier.
Though she knew what that meant. She didn't ask about it. "A perfect gentleman. In fact, he's much pleasanter company than you at the moment. I don't see why we can't untie him. I think he understands we're only trying to help him."
"There's no need. He goes back in the morning."
"What is he some kind of wild animal that can't find his way back home unless you release him where you found him? He's got a kind look about him. I think if we let him go here, he wouldn't cause any trouble for us or the town. If he did want to, certainly he and his people could have done so by now long before we came along."
"You only think that because you're entirely too trusting."
"Maybe so. I trusted when you said until death we do part that you meant it."
"Ruth, I'm too tired to argue," he said, shutting his eyes against her and turning his head.
"Tired of listening to me you mean. Well, have it your way. I'll shut up." Except he sat down on the blankets and pillows she'd laid down for herself while he was away. "What are you doing?"
"Laying down. What's it look like?"
"Next to me?"
"Well, I ain't laying down next to him. There's not a lot of places to lay down in here, in case you ain't noticed, and I'd feel better knowing you're where I can get to you easy if he escapes his bonds during the night."
It made perfect sense, but that didn't mean she had to like it. She laid down, fully dressed because of the third party in the room. "Good night, Nitis," she said.
"Who's Nitis?" Kid asked.
"The Indian."
"How in the world did you find that out?"
"It's called communicating with people."
Kid's communication to that came in the form of a grunt.
"Men," she muttered suddenly hoping she had a girl.
She knew sleep wasn't going to come easily if at all. It was totally quiet after that other than the sound of breathing and she wished for something, anything to break the heavy silence. She heard the sound of an owl from somewhere outside and it seemed as though the hoot carried the same sadness and loneliness she felt.