Beyond Betrayal (43 page)

"Delilah?" came a hoarse male whisper as the protected arm continued to clear the glass from the window ledge.

Delilah blinked and froze in place for second as she struggled to identify the caller. "Samson?" she whispered in return. As though to confirm her conclusion, Poopsy leapt down from the bed and ran happily toward the broken window. Without preamble, a hand reached in to scoop the little dog up.

"Come on," Samson said, tilting his head to see Delilah as she stood to the side. "We have to get out of here. Hurry!"

Delilah hesitated no more. Dropping the hat-pin, she grasped Samson's offered hand and sat carefully on the window ledge to swing her legs out. A second later, still clasping his hand, she followed him through the darkness. She was frightened to death of being caught—more for Samson's sake than her own—yet through it all her heart soared, singing one joyous refrain:
He came for me
.

Upon reaching Goliath, they had just placed Poopsy into a saddle bag and Samson was giving her a hand up, when the sound of a hammer being pulled back on a gun echoed like a gunshot in the still night. "Hands up, Towers," a cold voice growled out of the darkness. "Less'n you want me to shoot the little lady there."

Samson raised his hands as Poopsy barked and growled uselessly. A single glance at Samson's face made Delilah's heart sink, for he looked exceedingly grim. "Evenin', Casey," he said.

*   *   *

A few minutes later they were standing on Telford's front porch with the muzzles of numerous pistols trained on them while one of the hands woke Paul Telford. When Telford emerged from the house strapping on his gunbelt as he came, he took one look at Samson and Delilah and smiled. But it was not a nice smile. "Kill him," he said to his men. "And take all the time you want doin' it."

Delilah panicked. They were going to beat Samson—again. And once again it was because of her. Because he'd come to rescue her. "No!" she screamed, clutching uselessly at the arms of the men hauling Samson off. She couldn't allow this to happen. "Please!" she cried, pinning her eyes on Telford, trying to appeal to any shred of mercy the man might have in his soul. "You can't do this. Please! It's not right."

Telford looked at her only long enough to say, "I can do anything I want, Mrs. Sterne. I thought you understood that."

Her eyes flicked briefly to Casey who'd remained standing at Telford's side, but he seemed as unmoved by her pleas as his employer. "You can't just appoint yourself judge and jury. Let Samson stand before a court of law for his crime. Let a judge decide his guilt or innocence."

Telford shook his head. "He's guilty of killin' my son. No sense in wastin' a judge's time."

"But it was self-defense!" she argued. "Your son was going to shoot him in the back."

Telford pinned her with a cold stare. "Says him."

"There were witnesses!"

Watching his men as they began to hammer their fists into Samson, Telford shrugged without looking at her. "None that count for anything."

Delilah stared at him. "Meaning what? Meaning that were none you couldn't buy off? Meaning that the truth only counts if it can stand up against your money?"

Telford glared at her. "Shut up before I let my men shut you up. For good."

Oh, God, help me. I don't know what to say to move him.
Delilah wrung her hands in frustration as tears began to track down her cheeks. "Please," she said, resorting to begging once more. "Please don't do this.” But Telford ignored her. She looked at Casey. "Please Mr. Casey, don't let this happen. It isn't right."

Casey looked uncomfortable. "Is what she says true, boss? Did the kid try to shoot Towers in the back?"

Telford turned and glared at him. "On my land, the truth is whatever I say it is. You got that, Casey? 'Cause if you don't, you're welcome to ride out."

Casey nodded. "Yes, sir.” He continued to look thoughtful and, Delilah thought, a bit uncomfortable, but he made no move to help her or Samson.

The sound of a particularly loud blow landing on Samson's hapless body, made Delilah flinch. "Samson—" she cried.

The cry drew Telford's attention again. "Shut up before you wake the whole house up. I never thought I'd see the day you lost your poker face," he sneered. "Buck up, Mrs. Sterne. This won't take that long. And then you can leave and go on with your life."

But Delilah wasn't listening any more. Reminded of her vocation and Telford's penchant for gambling, she began to grasp at straws. Drawing her tattered pride around her like a cloak, Delilah looked up at him. "Very well, then, Mr. Telford. Since you have so kindly reminded me of my profession, may I propose a wager."

"Wager?” He looked down at her. "What kind of wager?"

"You stop. . . this,"—Delilah gestured to the violence taking place—"right now and we play a game of poker. If I win, you let Samson leave with me. If you win . . ." she swallowed, hating to even contemplate the outcome. "If you win, I'll leave without him."

Telford turned speculative eyes on her. "I heard you were pretty good," he murmured almost conversationally. “’Course there ain't many men that can beat me, let alone a woman. You probably couldn't offer me enough of a challenge to make it worth my while.” Shrugging, he appeared to dismiss her suggestion.

"Try me," Delilah returned in a soft-voiced challenge.

"Five card stud?" he asked, intrigued despite himself.

Delilah dipped her chin in a brief nod. "If you wish."

Then suddenly Telford seemed to reconsider. "I already have Towers," he said to her. "Why should I gamble for something I already have?"

Before Delilah could reply, Casey nodded and interjected. "That's right, boss. Why should you? She's a professional gambler, after all. Got quite a reputation in some quarters.” He shook his head. "I don't think it’s a good idea."

Delilah shot a look at him. What was he doing? Surely he knew that any intimation that she provided a challenge to Telford would only increase the powerful rancher's desire to play. Was Casey taking her side? She didn't know. Men like Casey had a twisted code of ethics. It was impossible to know what his strategy was.

"I don't pay you to do my thinkin' for me, Casey," Telford growled. "So shut yer trap."

Casey's expression was indecipherable; he said nothing.

Telford looked over Delilah's head at his men. "Hold up a minute boys," he yelled. Then he looked back at Delilah with soulless cold eyes. "All right," he said, "I'll take your wager. But if you lose you're only gonna have two choices: Either you become my mistress or I'll give you to my men and you can join Towers.” He grinned evilly. "We'll bury you together."

Delilah's heart contracted, and a pulse pounded in her throat. "And if I win?" she asked.

Telford's grin widened. "Hell, if you win I'll let you both go free."

Delilah considered. For the first time in her life, she was going to play a hand she could not afford to lose.

"Well?" Telford demanded. "Those are the terms. If you don't like 'em, then we'll forget this gamblin' thing right now and get back to business. Do we have an agreement or not?"

Delilah lifted her chin and met his gaze. "Agreed," she said quietly.

Telford looked up at his men. "Bring Towers over here, boys. The lady here is gonna gamble for his life. We might as well let him watch, seein' as how it kind of affects him. Heck! He can use the time to contemplate where he wants to be buried."

A moment later, both Delilah and Samson were escorted into Telford's parlor. Samson, Delilah noted, already had a swollen eye and a bloody lip. From the way he moved, it looked as though his barely healed ribs were probably bothering him again too. But it also looked as though he'd given as good as he gotten: More than one of Telford's men sported cuts and bruises. In fact one looked as though he'd run into a brick wall nose first.

"Bring the cards," Telford demanded of one of his men. The house servants were all abed, and probably determined to stay there despite the noise, or rather because of it.

"What have you done, Delilah?" Samson asked.

Telford didn't allow Delilah to respond. "Why it's like I said, Towers. The lady is gamblin' for your life."

"And what happens if she loses?" Samson demanded.

Telford shrugged. "I've given her a choice actually. If she loses, she can either join you in your grave, or she can become my mistress."

"Delilah—" Samson's tone demanded that she look at him, that she meet his gaze. The pain reflected there stabbed straight to her heart. "Don't do this, darlin'. Please. From what I saw. . . well, to be honest, you just aren't that good."

To Delilah's dismay, Telford took in every word. Feigning a casualness she didn't feel, Delilah said, "You only saw me at my worst. I only lost when you were there."

Samson swallowed visibly and, infuriatingly, pointed out, "I'm here tonight. You might not win."

She wanted to explain to him that his presence didn't unnerve her anymore because she was no longer afraid of the things she felt for him, but she couldn't so she merely shrugged. "It's worth a chance."

"No, it isn't!" Samson exploded. "Telford, you can't do this. She has nothing to do with what's between you and me. How much revenge do you need for the loss of a back-shooting kid who didn't understand the meaning of honor?"

Telford's face was suddenly suffused with rage. "My son may have tried to shoot you in the back, Towers, but it was no less than you deserved after throwin' him in the water trough and embarrassin' him in front of the whole town. That town was gonna be his one day. He needed respect."

Samson stared at him sadly. "You don't bully respect out of people, Telford. You earn it. Jesus! The poor kid never had a chance with you for a father, did he? You're as much to blame for his death as I am."

"Shut up before I change my mind and kill you right now.” And then his eyes widened. "That's what you're tryin' to do, isn't it? You're tryin' to piss me off so bad I'll kill you and let the little lady here go free.” He clucked his tongue as he accepted the cards his man handed him. Then he looked at his foreman. "Casey, if he opens his mouth again, I want you to close it for him. Is that clear?"

Casey nodded. "Yessir.” At a gesture from Telford, he pulled out a chair at the table for Delilah.

A very tense game of poker ensued. Delilah watched Paul Telford like a hawk. She'd already decided that, if Telford cheated, she'd cheat too. Samson had been right. She, too, had her price, and she was going to gamble on not getting caught. She had to, because she could not afford to lose this game. If you had to cheat a cheat to play a fair game, was it cheating? She didn't know. All she knew was that she'd do what she had to do to save the life of the man who meant everything to her.

Not knowing whether or not the deck of cards Telford produced had been previously stacked, Delilah had insisted on dealing the first hand. She had won, but not by much. Now, it was Telford's deal.

"I'll take two cards," she said softly, discarding two that did not work well. Then, sliding the two new cards into her hand, she glanced at it before returning her gaze to the rancher. She had a good hand. A
very
good hand. Her luck was back.

Telford, having completed the deal, now held his right hand on the table, rigidly flat, with his fingers tightly together. He'd palmed a card! Delilah was almost certain of it. She doubted that he'd use it this hand because he wouldn't be able to make the switch. But she'd have to watch him on the next hand.

On the next deal, she dealt a couple of cards from the bottom of the deck. Nothing remarkable. Just enough help to keep the playing field level. And so, the game progressed. Hand for hand, it looked as though the win could go either way. And the tension grew.

Telford began to look suspicious, and more than a little angry. Finally, he barked, "The bitch is cheating."

"I been watchin' her, boss, an' I ain't seen nothin'," one of his men countered.

"You couldn't see a goddamn wart on the end of your nose," Telford growled.

Delilah leveled a stare at him. "I assure you, sir, that in all the time I have gambled, I have never once resorted to cheating.”
Until tonight
, she added silently, praying the Lord would forgive her dishonesty. "I am simply a very lucky person."

Telford growled something beneath his breath. Moments later, when the game ended and he'd lost, he stared at Delilah with murder in his eyes. "There's no way you could have won tonight if you hadn't cheated," he said.

"How can you possibly say that?" she asked.

For a moment she thought he would come right out and admit that he'd been manipulating the cards to win, but instead his face suffused with rage and he looked at his men. "Take them outside and kill them," he demanded.

The hands hesitated. Then one asked, "Both of them, sir?"

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

"But, boss, she won," Casey pointed out. "The deal was that you'd let them go."

"She cheated!" Telford shouted.

He shrugged. "Reckon we can't kill a woman for defendin' herself.” The insinuation was clear: Casey was admitting that his boss had cheated.

The erosion of his authority on top of his loss of the poker game seemed to make Telford almost insane with the force of his rage. Pushing and shouting and swearing vilely at everyone in his path, he sent ornaments crashing to the floor as he ordered everyone out of his house.