Bart – Killing Time
We sat at that table in the dining salon for a long time. Nothing on this trip had gone the way we'd expected or planned it to, and we were just worn out. Pappy had spent more time with Olivia than either of us, which was not the kind of birthday present we were aiming for. Still, he seemed to be amused most of the time, so maybe he was having a better time than we expected.
We were worried about the way the situation with Olivia was progressing, and were trying to figure out a way to keep them from gettin' any closer. Pappy has been known to make extravagant gestures at times, especially when there was a lady in distress involved, and the last thing my brother and me wanted was to head back to Little Bend with a new step-mother. Especially one younger than the both of us. So we sat and drank coffee and plotted and schemed. Not that we were able to come up with anything that held any promise.
Neither of us had said anything for a few minutes when Bret asked a question I didn't have an answer for. "Why do you suppose he attracts all the young ones?" There was a note of complete and utter bafflement in his voice.
My brother was right; for some reason they were always young. The only woman even remotely close to his own age that he'd ever shown any interest in was Maude Donovan. "I don't know. Maybe they're lookin' for a daddy. Maybe they feel safe with him."
Bret nodded. "He does tend to protect them. Just like with Olivia and Martin. The true southern gentleman. That can't be all, can it?" I'd been fidgeting for the last few minutes and couldn't sit here any longer; answers or no answers I needed to do the only thing that would ease my mind . . . and that was poker.
I reached for my wallet and left money on the table, then stood up and started to walk away. Bret's hand snaked out and grabbed me by the arm, preventing me from leaving him behind. "Poker room?" he queried.
"Yes, sir," I answered hastily. "I need to do somethin' that makes some sense. You comin' with me?"
Bret didn't hesitate. "Why not? Sittin' here ain't doin' us any good."
Truer words were never spoken.
By the time we'd walked through the gaming room twice we'd been forced to come to a conclusion – everybody residing in the hotel must have been playing poker. I turned towards the faro games and Bret followed me, not that he would play any, but he seemed reluctant to let me out of his sight. Finally I decided playing faro would do, since nothing else was available. Like I said before, for some reason I was good at it, and it was easy to get into a rhythm. "When did you start playin' this?" Bret asked, and I had to stop and think.
"When I was workin' for Sally Bodeen in Dodge. She taught me all the tricks Pappy taught us for poker, and I seemed to have a real talent for it. Then I started runnin' the faro bank and beatin' the house regularly, without the tricks."
"Looks like you could make more money at this than at poker."
"Sometimes. Not always, Brother Bret. And it's nowhere near as entertaining." I played for another half hour before two or three spots opened up at the poker tables, and Bret and me both made the move back to the game we loved.
We played on and off for the rest of the afternoon, until it was time to go get cleaned up and changed for supper. When we got back to the stateroom we discovered we'd both won a considerable amount of money, and it appeared we were headed for a pleasant evening. You'll notice I said 'appeared.'
Next on the agenda was a bath. Pappy had the same idea; he was just headed off to take one as big brother and me returned. "What time are you pickin' Olivia up?" I asked as we passed in the corridor.
"Six o'clock."
"We'll meet you in the stateroom. We wanna hear how it went when you told her . . ."
"About Martin and his blonde." Pappy made a face that indicated it hadn't gone well. "Be there at five thirty."
"Yes, sir," Bret answered for both of us as Pappy never broke stride.
"THAT didn't sound good."
I shook my head. "Didn't look good, either. Guess we just have to wait and see."