Bucking the Tiger (15 page)

For the first time in the last several days, Corporal Butler wasn't the only man in uniform at the card table with Doc. Two others slouched in their chairs, wearing standard-issue blues that barely looked official due to their poor upkeep. All three of the military men looked just as grizzled as the cowboy also sitting in on the game. What few medals those soldiers had didn't look half as polished as the slender dentist sitting at their table.

Doc had been in Jacksboro for just under two weeks, which was more than enough time for him to stake out his territory within the Jackrabbit Saloon. He sat in his normal chair at his regular table and played his normal game. The servers there knew Doc on sight and kept his whiskey glass full.

“What's the matter, Holliday?” Butter asked. “You ain't so talkative now that you're losing.”

“What can I say to that?” Doc asked dryly. “You are an excellent judge of character.”

“You hear that, Coop?” Butler asked while looking over to the man on his left. “I won Doc's respect along with most of his money.”

Coop wore the insignia of a lieutenant and seemed to be the most professional of the three soldiers. That only meant his clothes were half as rumpled and he was half as drunk as the other two. His stack of chips was also half as big. “Don't count your chicks before they're hatched, Corporal. I'm still in this game.”

The third soldier's uniform was devoid of everything but the barest of essentials to mark him as a member of the United States Army.

“What about you, Jorgens?” Coop asked as he shoved in enough money to cover the current bet. “Are you still in with me?”

“Yeah,” the youngest of the soldiers said in a crackling voice. “I suppose.” The cowboy sitting between him and the lieutenant had already folded, leaving Doc as the only one who had yet to answer the bet.

Doc pulled in a deep breath and held up his cards so he could get another look at what he'd drawn. “I raise,” he said while tossing in a few more chips. As Butler grunted and mumbled to himself, Doc winced and reached for the handkerchief that was never too far from his grasp.

With his head bowed and his shoulders shaking with each cough, he took a few quick glances at the men around him. None of the soldiers were paying him any mind, but Butler and the lower-ranked soldier seemed to be staring each other down. When Doc cleared his throat at the end of his coughing fit the two soldiers quickly shifted their eyes away from each other.

“I'll call,” Butler said confidently.

Although he wasn't quite so confident, Coop nodded and tossed in enough to cover the raise. Jorgens folded.

Doc shrugged and laid down his cards. “I went for the straight, but all I got was another five.”

Coop's eyes brightened and he slapped his cards down faceup. “I may only have fours, but I got three of 'em!”

“Well played, sir,” Doc said amiably. “I only had you pegged for a pair.”

Chuckling while reaching for the pot, Coop said, “You had me pegged as usual, Doc, but I lucked out on the draw.”

“Before you two start kissing and holding hands,” Butler sneered, “maybe you ought to take a look at these.” Saying that, Butler laid down his cards to show three jacks flanked by a seven of hearts and the ten of diamonds. “Them three are my favorites,” he added, while touching the jacks and showing Doc a shit-eating grin.

Coop took his hands away from the middle of the table as if he'd accidentally stuck them into a fire. He then let out a breath through gritted teeth, collected what remained of his chips, and said, “That about does it for me. I've got a wife and two daughters to feed.”

Doc nodded and extended his hand across the table. “It's been a pleasure, Lieutenant.”

Butler let out a few grunting laughs as he raked in his chips. “Yeah, yeah. Anytime you want to hand over some more money to me, you just let me know, Coop.”

The lieutenant shot a quick glance over to Butler and then shook his head at Doc. “You all behave, now.”

The next round of cards were dealt by the cowboy who'd practically been asleep for the entire last hand.

“You're still awfully quiet, Doc,” Butler said. “Doesn't feel too good to lose every now and then, does it?”

“As my grandmother used to say, it ebbs and flows.”

Snorting to himself while examining his cards, Butler said, “I'll bet your grandma could play better poker than you. Raising with a pair of threes? That's just stupid.”

“Stupid as hell,” Jorgans said.

“Then I suppose this is just as stupid,” Doc said as he threw in a raise.

Butler was quick to call and grunted, “You ain't nothing but a half-assed, broken-down drunk that got lucky a few times, Holliday. I can see right through you.”

“And it only took you this long?” Doc asked. “That's impressive.”

“Impressive enough to beat the hell out of you.”

Even though he'd done his share of bragging throughout the game, the cowboy sitting between the two soldiers knew enough to keep his mouth shut and just deal out the second round.

After a glance to Butler, Jorgens knocked the table and leaned back.

“Check to me?” Doc asked. “I guess it's time for a raise.”

Butler shook his head. “Yeah, nobody saw that one coming. Raise it again.”

The cowboy covered the raises and looked to the man beside him.

“Too much for me,” Jorgens said as he folded his cards. “I think I'll just watch.”

“A wise decision,” Doc said. “Since that's what you seem to be best at.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Jorgens asked.

Butler leaned forward with both forearms resting against the table. “Yeah, Doc. What's that supposed to mean?”

“Just that he's been watching my cards all night long,” Doc replied. “I just pray to God our country's security doesn't rest on his skills as a scout.”

The cowboy snickered under his hand, but wasn't joined by anyone else at that table. Butler glared across at Doc while Jorgens shifted nervously in his chair.

“I don't—”

“Shut up, Jorgens,” Butler snapped. “This asshole must be getting dizzy on account of all that blood he's coughed up. Otherwise, I would've thought he just accused you of cheating.”

“Not at all,” Doc said. “I accused both of you of cheating.”

“Yeah? Maybe you should prove it.”

“All right, then.” Gripping his cards in a tight fist, Doc glanced down at them for less than a fraction of a second before looking up again. “This is the first time for the last few hands that I've looked at my cards without your partner next to me getting a chance at them as well. Let's see if you play this hand half as well as the last few.”

Twitching at the corner of one eye, Butler said, “It's your own fault if you can't keep your cards from being seen.”

“And it's your fault if you have someone watching my cards and then passing bits and pieces of that information to you,” Doc retorted.

While gnawing on his lip, Butler leaned back and forced a look of calm upon his face. “You'd know all about cheating. We're just a couple of soldiers.”

“Which explains why this is the best you two could come up with. My bet is that you won't even be able to keep that arrogant smirk on your face without getting the nod from this little pisser next to me,” Doc said while nodding over at Jorgens. Once he saw his words inflict their damage on Butler, Doc eased in a few more chips. “I raise.”

Butler's eyes darted back and forth between Doc and Jorgens.

“Don't look at him,” Doc snapped. “Look at me. Or, better yet, look at your own damn cards.”

Puffing out his chest, Butler said, “I call.”

The cowboy shoved in his chips as well.

Without taking his eyes from Butler, Doc flipped over his cards. “Two pair. Kings and nines.”

“Son of a bitch,” Butler said as he pitched his cards away like they were stinging his fingers. “You knew you could beat me, Holliday! If that ain't a cheat I don't know what is!”

“These are the only cards I touched,” Doc pointed out. “I didn't even deal them.”

“But you knew you could beat me!”

Before Doc could respond, the cowboy's voice drifted across the table. “What I'd like to know,” he said, “is if you can beat these.” With that, the cowboy laid down his cards to show a pair of fours along with three deuces to boot.

Doc started laughing as he got up to give the cowboy a short round of applause.

“What the hell was that?” Butler asked with shock etched into every last one of his features.

“That,” Doc replied, “is what poker is all about.”

When he saw the cowboy tentatively reaching for the rest of his money, Butler slammed one hand on the last few dollars that had previously belonged to him. “I heard you were working with the Injun, Doc. You also start up something with this asshole as well?”

Doc situated himself back in his seat and took a drink of whiskey. “Who told you that?”

“Never mind that. Just deal the next hand.”

“Maybe we should get back to—” Jorgens started to say before he was cut off by Butler's booming voice.

“I said deal the fucking cards!”

Jorgens did as he was told while the cowboy next to him stacked his chips and Butler stewed to himself. Doc, on the other hand, seemed more interested in folding his handkerchief. He didn't even look at his cards before shoving some of his chips into the pot.

“What the hell is that, Holliday?” Butler asked.

Doc blinked and took a look for himself. “Looks like a raise, Admiral.”

“Without even looking at what you got?”

“I'm betting that, whatever it is, it'll beat you.”

Through gritted teeth, Butler snarled, “I call.”

The cowboy folded his cards and gathered up his chips. “That does it for me. I suppose I'll cash these in.”

“The fuck you will.”

“If the man wants to leave, that's his right,” Doc said.

Butler's voice trembled as if his temper was literally bubbling up to hit the back of his throat. “He can't just win all that money and leave.”

“It's smarter than anything you'd be likely to do.”

“That's awfully strange talk coming from a dead man, Holliday. Maybe you should just shut the hell up before I put you out of your goddamn misery.”

The man who stepped up to refill Doc's glass was slightly bigger than Butler, but carried most of that weight around his middle. “If you can't play a civil game, then take it somewheres else.”

“You stay out of this,” Butler said to the barkeep. “I got all the elbow room I need where that lunger's concerned.”

“Then call the bet,” Doc said.

Butler did just that and tossed two cards toward Jorgens.

Looking toward Doc, Jorgens waited until he got a casual shake of the head from the gambler.

“You…haven't looked at your—”

“Shut yer hole, Jorgens,” Butler interrupted. “If the lunger's feeling lucky, then let him.”

“I appreciate that,” Doc said. “I'll bet a hundred.”

Butler grunted and rearranged his hand. “Hell, Doc, why stop there?”

“Indeed. Make it six hundred.”

Butler's eyes snapped up as his hand tightened around his cards. “I call.”

The barkeep let out a weary sigh. “You don't even have that many chips on the table.”

“I'm good for it,” Butler snarled. “With the money that's being offered for this skinny little rat, I'll be good for everything else I owe you on top of this bet.”

“What money is being offered?” Doc asked. “That wouldn't have come from Fort Griffin, would it?” After a slight pause, Doc grinned and nodded. “Ah, I see that it did.”

“You don't know a goddamn thing, Holliday.”

“And you're not holding a goddamn thing. That's the only thing I needed to know to take every cent you have.”

“Your bet's been called,” Butler said.

Doc glanced over at the barkeep, since that was the man who supposedly was speaking for the remainder of money needed to square the pot. The barkeep threw up his hands and walked away.

“Looks like you're out of your league,” Doc said. “But I suppose you're fairly familiar with that predicament. I'll let your bet stand if you tell me how much of a bounty is being offered for me and who else knows about it.”

“I know about it,” Butler said in a voice that trembled with rage. “That's the only thing that matters.”

Blinking calmly, Doc asked, “Are you heeled, Admiral?”

“You're damn right I am.” With that, Butler started to get up, and his hand dropped toward the holster buckled around his waist.