Land of the Free (19 page)

“No, but you already are
one.”

“Me? How do we explain my
playing and you watching?”

“I never play in small games
and I won’t have enough money to play in big games until my draft
clears.”

“What if I win a lot of
money?”

“Win enough and we won’t
have to wait for the draft to clear.”

“What if I lose all our
money?”

“Don’t.”

December 20,
1804

Albuquerque, New Mexico
Territory

Yank walked into the bank
lobby and approached a barred teller cage. “Do you speak
English?”

“But of course, sir” the
clerk replied in Spanish accented English.

“Good.” Yank passed the bank
draft that he’d prepared and endorsed under the bars. “I would like
to cash that.”

The man read the draft then
examined Yank and Marina for a moment. “Do you have some proof that
you are entitled to this money, sir?”

“What?” Yank spluttered.
“The draft’s made out to cash.”

“When handling a large sum,
such as this, the bank must know with whom it is doing business,
sir. Perhaps you could have your bank write to us.”

“See here,” Yank said
angrily. “I won that money fair and square from this fellow Van
Buskirk and I know the draft is good.”

“Wait.” Marina stepped
closer to the cage. “Your commission will be one hundred dollars in
gold when we receive the proceeds of that draft,” she whispered in
Spanish.

“You will be staying at the
hotel, I presume?” the clerk asked Yank in English, as if Marina
hadn’t spoken.

“Yes, yes we will,” Yank
said. “How long will it take to clear?”

“From four to six weeks this
time of year. It depends on the weather between here and New
Orleans, of course.”

“Thank you.”

“Not at all, sir. It is a
pleasure doing business with you. Merry Christmas to you.” His
smile broadened. “And to you, Madam.”

“Merry Christmas.” She waved
her hand gaily and took Yank’s arm.

“How did you know he’d take
a bribe?”

“The same way he knew that
we’d pay him to cash the draft.” She smiled coquettishly at a man
on horseback who tipped his hat.

“Shameless hussy,” Yank
grumbled. “You’re going to get me into a duel.”

“Take me back to the hotel
and I’ll show you I can be as shameless as I can be
bad.”

“Not yet, my dear. You see,
the hotel manager will be expecting payment for another day. You
need to win that for us.”

“You only paid for one
night?”

“You needed some cash to
play poker with, didn’t you?”

“Ah yes. You think of
everything.”

“Not everything.” He pointed
across the plaza at a saloon. “It seems that the only place where a
stranger can play poker is that rather rough establishment. I’m
told that it is owned by an American woman called Tess and that it
caters to English speaking riffraff, like us. Do you still want to
do this?”

“I’ve got a pepperbox in my
garter and a four inch hatpin in my hair.”

“Please promise to avoid
killing anyone unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“I should ask you to make me
the same promise.”

He rolled his eyes. “Here we
go again.”

She looked up at him. “I
know, I know. This isn’t the time or place to discuss
it.”

They reached the wooden
sidewalk and Yank moved ahead of Marina to open the door of the
saloon and hold it for her. However, as he followed her in, a huge
man with a badge on his shirt blocked his way. “Merry Christmas,”
Yank said, looking up at the man.

“We been told that you’re a
professional gambler,” the man said without preamble.

Yank nodded. “Quite
true.”

“We don’t allow no
professional gamblers in here.”

“Does that mean that I’m
prohibited from drinking here or only that I’m prohibited from
gambling here?”

The man looked uncertainly
toward the bar.

“You can’t gamble in here,”
a woman behind the bar said, “but you’re welcome to drink, if
that’s your pleasure.”

“Can my wife play cards?”
Yank asked.

The woman looked at
Marina.

“I’ll just sit at the bar,”
Yank added. “She’s not a professional gambler but we’re hoping she
can win enough to keep us until my bank draft is
honored.”

“She can play,” the woman
said. “But I’ll be watchin’ her.”

“Very good.” Yank walked to
the bar and sat down.

“What can I get
ya?”

“Do you by chance have any
tea?”

The woman laughed. “I have a
pot that I brew for myself. I suppose I could share it.”

“That would be very kind.”
He watched the woman slip through a curtain then turned to see
Marina shuffling the deck. He noticed with satisfaction that she
looked competent without looking like a professional.

“
I forgot to ask if you
wanted milk in your tea,” the woman behind the bar said. She was
holding a teacup in a saucer. The tea had milk in it.

“However you have it there
is perfect,” he said, plopping a silver half-dollar on the bar.
“I’m surprised that so many people here speak English.”

She set the tea in front of
him. “Most everybody speaks both Spanish and English,” she said
without any explanation. “You say that woman’s your
wife?”

“I do indeed.”

“How come I don’t believe
you?”

“It may be that your life
experiences have made you overly suspicious.”

“You could be right or it
could be that my life experiences have made me real good at
spottin’ a liar.” The woman watched the poker game for a minute.
“She’s got good hands.”

“You can see her cards from
here?”

“No. I mean she handles the
cards well.”

“I assure you
that…”

“Save it. I can tell from
the way she plays that she’s a house player. She’s real deliberate
and makes sure everybody can see that she ain’t cheatin’.” The
woman looked at Yank. “A sportin’ woman, is she?”

“Not any more,” Yank said.
“We really do need the money. I was telling the truth about that.
Marina won’t take more than we need for the hotel bill and our
daily expenses.”

“Split the winnings with me
and we have a deal.”

“Were you planning to cover
her losses?”

She laughed. “You got a lot
o’ nerve.”

“So I’ve been told. If
you’re not willing to share the risk, I’ll give you ten
percent.”

“Fifteen.”

“Done.”

She grinned. “Where are you
from?”

“New York. You?”

“Gallatin,
Tennessee.”

“Gallatin? Really? Do you
know a man named Andrew Jackson? He once owned a store in
Gallatin.”

“Of course I do. Do you know
Andy?”

“Yes I do. As a matter of
fact, I saw him in Nashville quite recently. He’s a Tennessee
Supreme Court judge, you know.”

“I do know. He’s also the
commander of the Tennessee Militia.”

“Now that, I didn’t know.
Odd that the Secretary didn’t mention that.”

“Which
secretary?”

“Madison at
State.”

“I don’t believe Colonel
Jackson and President Jefferson get along too well.”

“There’s something else I
didn’t know,” Yank said.

“You surely know about the
election.”

“I’m not sure. What election
do you mean?”

“1800.”

“Oh. You mean when Aaron
Burr tried to steal the presidency from Thomas
Jefferson.”

“I wouldn’t put it
that-a-way. They tied in the Electoral College.”

“Yes, but Burr was running
as Jefferson’s vice president, not for president.”

“The Constitution didn’t
make no distinction between the two.”

“I know, but it was a
mistake in the Constitution that was addressed in the Twelfth
Amendment. The amendment was ratified in June, by the way, in case
you hadn’t heard.”

“There wouldn’t have never
been no such amendment if Alexander Hamilton hadn’t of slandered
Aaron Burr the way he done.”

“Oh. I wager you haven’t
heard that Burr shot Hamilton dead in a duel.”

“Good.”

“Now, you should hear the
facts before you make a statement like that. I was there,
and…”

She raised her hand. “We
ain’t gonna agree.”

Yank nodded. “Perhaps.” He
took a breath. “So tell me please, how does Judge Jackson figure in
that mess?”

“Well, he backed Burr in the
House of Representatives, ya see, and Jefferson’s crowd ain’t never
gonna forgive him. Did you know it took thirty-six ballots to
finally break the tie in the House?”

Yank nodded and then decided
to detour around the subject. “I can’t get over the idea that I
just bumped into a friend of Andrew Jackson’s all the way out here
in Albuquerque.”

“Small world, ain’t
it?”

“Indeed it is.”

“And you ain’t really a
gambler, are you?”

Yank hesitated. “Why would
you say that?”

“I can’t figure James
Madison usin’ no gambler to carry a message to Andrew
Jackson.”

“I never mentioned a
message.”

“I ain’t as dumb as I
look.”

Yank sighed. “It wasn’t very
smart of me to mention Secretary Madison, was it?”

“Depends on who yer hidin’
from.”

“Let’s just say that if the
Spaniards found out who I really am they’d hang me from the nearest
tree.”

She was watching Marina
again. “I’ll make you a new deal.”

“What?”

“Marry that girl and I’ll
let her play poker here every night, won’t take a penny from ya and
I won’t tell the Spanish army that you ain’t what you
seem.”

“I married her in New
Orleans before we left.”

The woman grinned and
offered her hand. “I’m Theresa Anderson. Folks call me
Tess.”

He shook her hand. “Folks
call me Yank. You’re safer if that’s the only name you
know.”

January 20, 1805

Albuquerque, New Mexico
Territory

“My luck’s run out.” Marina
was pacing the hotel room.

“You’ve had three bad
nights,” Yank replied calmly. “Tonight you’ll turn it around.” He
was lounging back on the bed with his feet on the floor.

“What if I don’t turn it
around? What if I lose everything?”

“We’ll cross that bridge if
we come to it.”

She stopped pacing and
walked closer to him. “I’ve been thinking. I may still have family
and friends at the village near Sandia Pueblo. If we used the money
we have for supplies…”

“We tried that and it turned
out badly.”

“Those were strangers. I’m
talking about people who know and care for me.”

He sat up. “I have a better
idea.”

“What?”

“Finish getting
dressed.”

“Where are we
going?”

“Tess’s saloon.”

“I’m not playing poker
tonight, John. My luck’s run out. I can feel it.”

“If my idea works, you’ll be
sitting at the bar tonight sipping tea and watching me
work.”

“What’s your
idea?”

“You’ll see.”

“You’re a terrible poker
player.”

“I’m not planning to play
poker. Get dressed.”

~

Tess put Yank’s usual cup of
tea on the bar, then looked curiously from Marina to Yank.
“Somethin’ wrong?”

“Nothing to be alarmed
about,” Yank replied, “but I could use a job.”

“Here?” Tess looked
surprised. “Doing what?”

He motioned toward the big
man with the badge. “He works for you, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah. Buck’s what we call a
private peace officer. But if I was to fire him and hire you, he’d
kill you dead, sure as God made little green apples.”

Yank shrugged. “Then you’d
hire him back and be no worse off for it.”

Marina laughed. “That may be
the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard.”

“What’s this all about?”
Tess asked.

Yank shrugged. “Marina says
her luck has run out.”

“Oh shit,” Tess muttered
looking toward the front door of the saloon where a Spanish Army
major and four enlisted men armed with muskets had just come in.
“Reckon she might be right. I think all of our luck might of just
ran out.”

The major had seen Yank and
pointed him out to his men who promptly raised their muskets.
“Colonel Van Buskirk, you are under arrest,” the major said in
English.