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KIM BALDWIN. “I haven’t been home. I came straight from work.”
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“I haven’t been home. I came straight from work.”
“Carl called me and said you needed another hand. So tell me, am I going to lose my shirt?”
Gable cringed inwardly at Erin’s choice of expressions. “Depends on what kind of player you are,” she said noncommittally.
They knocked and were admitted by a barrel-chested man with dark, bushy eyebrows and wild, unkempt hair.
“Hi Jerry,” Gable greeted. “Have you met Erin Richards, our new rookie?”
“Not ofF cially.” Jerry offered a hand and introduced himself. “Go on in and make yourself at home.” He gestured toward the living room.
“Everyone else is here and we’re about ready to start. Can I get you both a drink?”
“A beer would be good,” Gable said, which prompted a raised eyebrow from her host. She rarely drank when she played cards, and was the exception to the group in that regard. But she had spotted Tim through the archway staring right at Erin, and a drink suddenly sounded mighty good.
“Beer for me too. Thanks!” Erin echoed her, and they went in to take their seats around a large round dining table.
Carl greeted them with a wave and Gable said, “Have you all met Erin?”
“Fresh meat!” Don Baum said. “Hope you brought lots of cash!”
He stood and extended a hand toward Erin. “Hi, Erin. Don Baum.” The town barber was by far the oldest of the group at seventy, a conF rmed bachelor with a stubble of beard and food stains on his clothes.
“Hi, Don.” Erin shook his hand.
“Oscar Knapp.” The gangly farmer stood and offered his hand.
“Don’t know if you remember me…”
“Hi, Oscar,” Erin took his hand in hers and shook it. “Of course I remember you. You were one of the guys who helped get me out of my basement that day. Thanks again.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“Nice that you could make it,” Tim said.
He and Erin exchanged broad smiles and Gable felt that same queasy sensation in her stomach again. Battling butterf ies.
Jerry came in with two bottles of Budweiser and handed one to each woman.
• 74 •
FORCE OF NATURE
“Why don’t you sit here?” Tim invited, motioning to the empty chair beside him.
“Well, all right,” Erin replied, which left Gable sitting between Don and Carl, directly across from Tim.
“So, Erin, what’s your deal?” Don asked. “You married?”
She shook her head. “Divorced.”
Gable glanced at Tim to see his reaction to this news, and cringed at the big grin on his face.
“So, are you seeing anyone?” Jerry asked as he started to deal the cards.
Oh great. Both of them? Jerry was single too, but he was in his mid-F fties, at least F fteen years older than Erin, so Gable hadn’t really considered he might also be interested in Erin. And she didn’t like the way he was looking at her, either, the old coot. I’m gonna hate this.
I’m just gonna hate having to sit here and listen to them hit on her allnight.
“Well, I hope to be seeing several guys before the evening is over…” Erin responded, and Gable nearly choked on her beer. “All jacks and kings, please, dealer.”
The guys laughed, and Gable gradually relaxed as they got down to the business of poker.
v
It was clear from the outset that they had three ringers, all of them out for blood.
Tim and Gable went head to head in almost every hand, betting big and raising bigger, and Erin stayed with them most of the time, but the others just weren’t in their league.
It was impossible to tell when Tim or Erin was blufF ng, and Gable F gured they were having the same problem with her. All three played with reckless abandon, the pots growing much larger than what was typical for the group.
The conversation was friendly and the mood at the table seemed outwardly relaxed despite the intense competition. Only Carl had a hint there was more going on tonight than was apparent.
“You’re on F re tonight, Gable,” Tim said as she began transforming her latest win—a huge pile of chips—into neat little stacks.
• 75 •
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