CHAPTER SIX

OF MICE AND MEN

FRIDAY AFTERNOON

By the time Heath arrived at the saloon, Nick and Gene were both there and had a bottle of whiskey and three glasses in front of them. As was his habit, he looked around the bar as he made his way to his brothers. A table of three men played cards at a table behind Gene, and another table of four sat a few tables away. Two men sat at the bar. Other than that and the bartender and barmaid, the place was empty. None of the drovers were there.

"What took you so long?" Nick asked.

"First, I stopped by the restaurant that was supposed to deliver breakfast this morning. They said the manager had to issue a refund. So, I waited for well over an hour for the manager to get there."

"Did you get the refund?"

Heath dropped an envelope on the table. "Fifty percent."

"Fifty percent!" Nick jumped out of his chair, almost knocking it over. "They should've given us a full refund!"

Heath smiled his crooked half-smile. "Hold your britches. They gave us a fifty percent refund and they will deliver breakfast in the morning."

"Ohhh." Nick sat. "Good job."

"Then I went to the livery and checked on our horses. I paid to have the mud cleaned off them and to have them brushed," Heath continued. "Finally, I stopped by the railyard and made sure they'd be ready for us tomorrow—which, again, required speaking to the manager, who took a while to locate."

"And?"

"They said it should be fine. The sun is finally out and things are drying up quickly."

"I just hope those ignorant animals remember to raise their hooves every so often so they don't get stuck in dried mud," Eugene muttered.

Nick laughed uproariously.

Heath glanced at the whiskey bottle. Almost half was missing already.

"What the hell are you doin'?" Heath demanded.

"Drinkin'," Gene and Nick said simultaneously, and then laughed even louder because they'd said the same thing.

Heath rolled his eyes. "Don't forget we have a job to do."

"Is he always such a killjoy?" Gene asked.

Nick again laughed as though that was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.

Heath sighed. It was going to be a long day. "Nick, you do know you can't tell the men they can't get drunk and then do it yourself."

"I know, little brother. I know. I haven't drank that much. I just got here about an hour ago. But I'll stop drinking by two and be sober before we go back." Nick stood and rubbed Heath's shoulder. "Now, relax and have just a little bit of fun, okay?"

Heath glanced at Eugene. "Gene needs cut off. He's had enough."

Gene scowled at him. "I don't need a babysitter."

"Obviously, you do." Heath poured himself three-fingers of whiskey. He sipped it. "I'll have my fun when this job is over. And both of you should wait, too."

Nick walked around the table to Eugene and rubbed his shoulders as well. "Hey, you got some new muscle there, boy." He grabbed Eugene's biceps and felt them. "Yeah, you do. Look at that!"

Eugene tried to squirm away from him. "Stop it!"

"Heath, check this out. This boy is more than bone and skin."

Gene tried to shove him away, but almost fell to the floor.

"Leave the kid alone, Nick," Heath said.

Nick shrugged and sat down.

Heath went to the bar and asked for a deck of cards, which he took back with him, and a plate of sandwiches, which a barmaid would deliver, and then returned to the table and shuffled the cards. He swallowed the rest of the whiskey in his glass. That was one. He'd quit at three—or before.

Nick filled Heath's glass to the brim.

Heath raised an eyebrow as he dealt the cards. It looked like one more drink was all he'd have. "Five card draw. Anything to open. One dollar ante." He looked at Eugene. "Do you know how to play?"

Eugene rolled his eyes. "I was beating Nick when I was eight."

"Only because I let you," Nick said.

"Yeah, but you never did pay up. You owe me two hundred fifty-five million, three hundred and, and . . ." Eugene looked at Nick, his focus uncertain. "I forget."

"You always remember the exact number. And besides," Nick said, "I remember distinctly that it was only a hundred and something million."

"Then we prayed drouble or nothing," Gene said.

"We prayed, huh?" Nick shrugged. "Whatever. Put it on my bill."

Heath glanced at his cards, tossed two into the center, and looked at Eugene. "You gonna open?"

"Fiffy dollars!" Eugene said. He took a long drink of the whiskey.

Heath scowled. "Let's keep this a friendly game."

"Sounds friendly to me," Nick said. "I'll see your fifty and raise you a hundred."

Heath tossed his cards.

"A hunred back atchou," Eugene slurred, throwing two hundred dollars into the pile.

"A thousand to you," Nick said. He searched his pockets. "Uh, I don't have that much." He took out a piece of paper and wrote "Nick. $1100."

"I'll see your throusand and raise you a, a, throusand. Gib me a paper."

Nick handed him a piece of paper and a pen.

Gene emptied his glass, refilled it, and wrote almost illegibly "Gene. $2000."

"Okay," Nick said. "I'll see your thousand and raise you—how much do I need to raise you to make it double or nothing?"

"Eight hunded fiffy-five trillion, and somethin' else," Eugene replied. "And that dudn't include what's in the kitty—just what's in the snotes."

"Okay. That's what I bet."

"I'll call," Eugene said.

Nick turned over a pair of queens.

Eugene scowled and threw in his cards face down. He stood up and almost fell back down.

"I think you've had enough to drink," Heath said.

Nick pulled the money towards him. "Finally! Yahoo!" He was jumping around so much he almost bumped into the barmaid bringing the tray of sandwiches. "Sorry, sweetie," he said, eyeing her.

She smiled at him and set the tray in the center of the table. "Can I get you anything else?"

Nick grinned and put a hand on her back. "What else do you got?"

"Probably not what you want," she answered. "You can get that down the street at Angel's."

"Much obliged." He dropped a gold coin in her apron pocket.

"Thank you, cowboy." She sashayed away.

Nick turned and watched her go, then turned back to face his brothers. "I wonder if they have a Big Annie's here."

Heath stared at Nick. "Remember what you told the men."

"I do. I told 'em to go have fun."

"You told 'em to stay out of trouble," Heath said. He took a long drink. He needed some fortification to deal with his brothers.

"You can stay here if you want." Nick stood. "I'm gonna go find me a woman."

"It's after one," Heath said. "Better stop drinking and sober up."

Nick looked at Gene. "Killjoy."

Gene almost fell off his chair laughing.

Heath scowled. "C'mon, Gene. We need to stop drinking. We can let Big Brother get in trouble all by hisself. Somebody's gotta bail 'im out."

Gene grinned. That would be the best thing ever—if he could bail Nick out of jail. He could see it now. Nick's head hung low, then his dimples appearing when he saw Gene coming to save him. "You done good, boy!" he'd say. "You done good."

Warmth filled Gene's chest. He didn't need to imagine it. Nick had already told him he'd "done good." Just wait until he told Sally Jane about his summer. He smiled. Just wait until Sally Jane felt his strong arms around her. He shivered.

But Nick still stood—swaying slightly—next to their table. He looked at Gene. "Hey! You think Sally Jane will mind if you go visit Big Annie's—or Angel's?"

Gene's cheeks reddened. "How you know Sally Jane?"

Nick laughed. "You talk in your sleep, boy."

"And moan, too," Heath added.

"Oh, Sally Jane," Nick mimicked in a high-pitched voice. "Just one squeeze. Please."

"Stop it!"

"Sally Jane, feel my muscle," Nick added in a falsetto and doubled over laughing.

Gene's face burned. But he couldn't decide if he should deny it or punch them. It seemed like he owed them both a few punches from the past week, although he couldn't remember why. Yeah, he did. For putting a snake in his boot, for one. For picking on him. For treating him like a kid. For humiliating him.

The giant of a man who had his back to Gene stood and turned around. "I know Sally Jane," he said with a grin. "She rubs my muscle all the time."

Nick laughed so hard he held onto the table for support.

But Eugene didn't think it was funny. "You doan know my Sally Jane!"

"Oh, don't bet on that. She's a sweet young thing." The man made the shape of a woman's figure in the air.

"Take that back!" Gene yelled, jumping up and facing the man. "You doan know my Sally Jane!"

Heath moved behind Gene and grabbed his upper arms. "Settle your britches," he said quietly. "He's just teasing you."

"I know her in the Biblical sense," the big man continued. "Whoo-ee! She sure is a vixen!"

Gene fought to free himself from Heath. "Let me go! No one says that 'bout my Sally Jane!"

"She told me you thought she was still pure!" The man laughed.

Gene slammed his right elbow into Heath's ribs and stomped on Heath's left foot. Heath released him. Gene then jumped on the large man, his fists flailing.

Heath tried to pull him off the man, but before he could, the huge man punched Gene, sending him soaring into an empty table.

Heath turned to see if Gene was all right, but Nick went after the man who'd hit Gene. He slammed a fist into the man's mouth.

The man fell back, but the two men with him jumped up and started in on Nick.

"Damn it!" Heath yelled. He grabbed one of the men beating on Nick and landed a right hook into his jaw. The man crashed through another empty table and didn't get up.

The big man was now back on his feet and going after Nick. Heath grabbed him and punched him a few times. The man kept going.

Meanwhile, Nick dispatched the man he was punching and turned to help Heath.

And then a gunshot sounded. Everyone froze.

"Who started it?" the sheriff demanded.

The bartender pointed at Eugene.

"He did!" Nick pointed at the big man.

"Who threw the first punch?" the sheriff asked.

The bartender again pointed at Eugene.

Nick couldn't deny it.

The sheriff pulled Eugene off the table. "C'mon. You're going for a walk with me." The sheriff wrapped an arm under Eugene's armpits and dragged him outside.

Nick, suddenly sober, looked at Heath. "Not good."

"You're the one who let him drink so much," Heath said, following the sheriff.

Nick kept up with him. "I wasn't watching how much he drank! He's a big boy now! And, besides, I haven't been here that long."

Heath rolled his eyes. "I just hope he sobers up and we can get him out and back to the camp by eight. Sure ain't gonna look good if the bosses don't show up sober and on time."

"He ain't a boss," Nick said.

"He's a Barkley, so it's the same thing to the men."

Nick sighed.

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