Читать книгу Texas Bluff - Linda Warren, Linda Warren - Страница 9

CHAPTER FOUR

LUKE GOT OUT OF HIS TRUCK at the Wild Card Saloon for the weekly poker game. His boots made a crunching sound on the crumbling asphalt. He recognized all the vehicles nosed up to the building. Damn! Harold Knutson was here tonight. The man was a bore and he relayed all their chitchat back to his hairdresser wife, who then spread it all over the community. That was the price of living in a small town.

He slipped his keys into his jeans. Ed Falconetti, owner of the Longhorn Café, was here, too. Ed was from New Jersey and still had his northern accent even after many years of being a Texan. He usually brought food, which was a good thing.

Hap’s Circle C truck was parked to the side, ready for an early getaway. Since Clover disapproved, Luke was surprised Hap was here. But then Hap had a way of doing his own thing, with or without Clover’s approval.

The old Wild Card Saloon, owned by Jake Chandler, crouched on the banks of the Medina River. It had been neglected for years, with rotted wood and broken windows. But now, with Jake’s renovation, it was taking shape. Luke noticed the new roof and the rotted wood stripped away. The old, dilapidated honky-tonk was looking better than it ever had. Rachel Diamonte had a lot to do with the transformation.

As an interior designer, Rachel had desperately needed a job to support her young daughter. Jake had been infatuated with the popular, beautiful Rachel in high school. When she’d shown up in River Bluff again, broke and with a baby, Jake, though reluctant at first, had been there for her. The two were headed for the altar, probably real soon.

Luke was happy for them. Because Jake was the son of a bar owner, and a bastard, the kids and the town had been rough on him. He’d grown up in the back room of the Wild Card and he’d hated it. When Jake had been accused of burning down a barn and killing some horses, his life had gotten a whole lot worse. Sheriff Parker had an eye witness—Rachel. Then Jake left town and no one had heard from him until a few months ago.

Jake had made it big in the dot-com business and had not intended to return, until his uncle Verne had passed away. He’d come back to get rid of the Wild Card, but then his high school buddies had met again and they’d persuaded him to fix up the old place and to stay. Of course, Rachel had more to do with that than his friends. But they were back together playing poker just like when they were teenagers.

“Luke.”

He turned to see his friend Cole.

“Hey, Cole,” he responded, glancing at the old saloon. “It’s looking good.” Cole Lawry was now a building contractor and Jake had hired him to do the renovations.

Cole pushed back his Dallas Cowboys ball cap. “Yeah. Since I’ve gone into business for myself I don’t have as much time as I’d like, but it’s getting there. Pretty soon I’ll need your muscles to hoist some beams.”

Luke frowned. “Haven’t you heard I’m an injured vet?”

“Yeah, right.”

They were both grinning as they walked to the side door.

Cole was the quiet one of the group. His dad had committed suicide when Cole was young and growing up had been hard for him, too. The friends had played poker as a way to escape their rotten lives. Cole had never strayed from his roots farther than San Antonio. He’d gone though a bad divorce, but he’d found happiness with a newcomer to River Bluff, Tessa Jamison, a woman who’d come to town to find out if Cole was the father of her sister’s baby. They still laughed about that. Cole was also the responsible one. He and Tessa were now living together and putting the finishing touches on Cole’s house. They were very secretive about their wedding plans.

His friend Brady Carrick had a tug-of-war relationship with his dad, who was always pushing him to excel. And Brady had. He’d played for the Dallas Cowboys and had a stellar career until he’d busted up his knee. After a failed marriage and a stint of playing poker in Vegas—much to his dad’s disapproval—Brady was back in River Bluff proving he had what it took to train a winning horse at his dad’s Thoroughbred training facility, Cross Fox Ranch.

Brady was deeply in love with Molly Davis, a waitress he’d taught to play poker. She’d even made it to the U.S. Poker Play-Offs Quarter Finals in Vegas, thanks to Brady’s tutoring. They’d all gone to watch the event. Molly was now working in the office at Cross Fox, and living there, too, but there was no word of a wedding yet. Luke knew it was only a matter of time.

A new friend, Cole’s brother-in-law, Blake, had joined the group. Blake had been in prison in a foreign country for a number of years, and he and Luke connected on a level that only the two of them could understand.

Blake and Annie were already married and expecting their first child. The Not So Wild Bunch, as Annie had named them, were becoming the Family Bunch.

All except Luke.

He was the loner.

Shoving his hand into his pocket, he ran his thumb over the raised surface of his dog tags. He never played poker without them. His time in Iraq would forever be emblazoned in his brain, in his heart and in his soul. The wild Luke had grown up fast. He’d become responsible, dedicated and loyal. Men had depended on him for their safety.

For their very lives.

But through the hell, bad conditions, lost lives and the horrors of war, he’d never forgotten Becky. The pain of hurting her had never lessened.

Neither had the pain of losing her.

Now he just wanted to make it right.

The responsible Luke had to make it right.

Becky was talking to him without the anger. That was a big step forward. It had taken six months to break through her defenses. Not that he’d actually broken through, but he felt there was a crack now where before there had been a solid wall.

“Luke, Cole,” Brady said when they stepped into the back room they used for their games. The small space was still shabby and run-down, but the guys didn’t mind. An old battered oak table with scratches and notches took pride of place. That was all they needed. And beer.

He spoke to his friends and looked at Hap, Harold, Ed and Ron, Cole’s ex-boss. “You old-timers ready to play?”

Blake glanced at his watch. “I don’t want to play too long. Annie’s at her mom’s having dinner.”

“Tessa’s there, too,” Cole said, “and so are Molly, Rachel and Becky. You don’t have to hurry. They’ll be talking into the wee hours.” Cole grabbed beers out of the old clunker refrigerator and passed them around. “Rachel’s giving Tessa some decorating tips on the house. I told her whatever she wants is fine with me.”

“You’re such a sap.” Harold took a swig of his beer. “Stand up like a man and tell her how it’s going to be.”

Brady laughed. “Yeah. Like you do with Sally.” Sally was known to lead Harold around by the nose.

“That’s what I’m telling you young guys. Set the rules now or in thirty years she’ll be chewing on your ass every night like one of Hap’s old hound dogs.”

Hap looked up. “Knut, my hounds wouldn’t touch your ass.”

A round of laughter followed.

Blake opened the silver box with the cards and chips. “Harold, I hope I never have a marriage like yours. Wait—” he held up a hand “—I know I’ll never have a marriage like yours. I go to sleep every night with my hand on Annie’s stomach. In the morning our child wakes me by kicking against my hand. It’s an awesome feeling and I know that’s never going to change. The feeling, I mean, not the pregnancy.”

Jake pulled out a chair. “I never thought I could get so wrapped up in a child. Never really thought I was father material. But Becky’s giving Rachel more exercises for Zoë and we will do them religiously. Rachel and I are going to make sure she has the best life possible.”

If anyone was wilder than Luke, it was Jake with his leather jacket and motorcycle. For him to make such a statement about Rachel’s Down syndrome baby was a revelation in itself.

“Man, I can relate to that.” Brady popped the top on his beer. “I didn’t think I could love another man’s kid so much, but Sammy feels like my own. Of course, I’m pretty crazy about his mom, too.”

All his friends had found their soul mates and Luke wondered if he’d be the only one in limbo. The only one unable to move forward.

He wasn’t sure he was still in love with Becky. But he knew without a doubt that to move forward he had to put the past behind him. So far he’d been unable to do so. That was his struggle and it drove him every day.

“I hope you guys don’t mind,” Harold said, plopping into a chair, “but I invited someone to join us.”

Jake shuffled the cards. “We’re not partial to whose money we take, are we, boys?”

“Nah,” Cole replied, taking a seat. “Who is it?”

“Guy does my taxes. You boys probably know him.”

“Who—” Before the rest of the sentence left Luke’s throat, the door opened and Danny Howard stood there. Becky’s ex, and the last person Luke wanted to see or have at the poker table.

The room became painfully quiet. Luke could actually hear the gush of the Medina River outside. Or was it the rush of blood in his veins?

Four pairs of eyes stared at him, waiting for his reaction.

He and Brady were the only two standing. Brady leaned over and whispered, “What do you want to do?”

“Nothing,” he whispered back, and walked over to Danny and held out his hand. “Hi, Danny, I don’t believe I’ve seen you since high school.”

Since you stole my girl. Since you made my life a living hell.

“Yeah. It’s been a long time, Luke.” Danny gestured toward the table. “Hope you don’t mind my stopping by.”

“Of course not. This is River Bluff and all friends are welcome.”

You low-down bastard.

Luke passed by Brady on his way to a chair. “Stay cool,” Brady murmured under his breath.

Jake’s eyes caught his, as did Cole’s, both saying the same thing. He wasn’t sure what his friends thought he was going to do. Evidently they thought he was as wild and crazy as he ever was. But there was something about being shot out of the air like a clay pigeon that changed a man forever. Of course, he used jokes and ribbing to hide those scars.

But he was mature enough to handle a game of poker with Danny Howard. Now he had to prove it.

“Tournament play, no limit and a fifty-dollar buy in, boys,” Jake said. “Let’s see some money.”

Each player slapped money onto the table and collected their chips.

Jake, the host, gathered the cards and shuffled them, dealing each player two hole cards. The betting started to Jake’s left and they settled in to play Texas Hold ’Em. After a round of betting, Hap and Ron were left playing the hand.

Hap called Ron’s bet.

Jake laid three cards, the flop, face up on the table.

Studying the cards, Ron made a thumping sound with his chips on the table. After a moment he placed a bet.

Hap raised it.

“Call,” Ron said.

Jake dealt the fourth card, the turn card.

Hap took his time, twirling a chip between his fingers. He had the perfect poker face, no emotion whatsoever. Suddenly he mucked his cards.

“Hot damn,” Ron yelled. “I knew you didn’t have a damn thing.” He guzzled his beer.

The evening wore on, with a lot of cursing and a lot of yelling, mostly from Ron. The man could not hold his liquor and by the fourth hand he was out. As were Harold, Cole and Hap.

Jake shuffled the next hand and dealt the hole cards. By the end of the betting, it was Danny, Ed and Brady in the hand.