Betting the Rainbow (Harmony) (17 page)

Chapter 28

TRUMAN FARM

A
S THE MUSIC THAT FLOWED AROUND THE ORCHARD AT
the Truman farm ended, Dusti Delaney tried to smile, but Kieran’s gray eyes looked as tired as she felt. The red in his hair was almost brown in the lantern light and she thought he looked like exactly what he was, an adventurer. He’d come back to Harmony to play cards yet he’d taken her on the adventure with him. She knew then that it wasn’t the prize but the journey that mattered to him.

Nervous that she’d discovered such a truth about him, she studied the orchard, the barn, anywhere but his eyes. “Where did everyone go?” she asked, more for something to say than out of interest.

Kieran shrugged. “Some went over to the Matheson land to see a fight between two drunks, I think. Most went home. The last round doesn’t start until eleven. When you’re not playing, the fun of watching doesn’t last long.”

He took her hand. “We’ve got thirty minutes to relax. The last game is set up in the barn, where the light will be a little more dependable.”

“I’ll be playing you.” Dusti closed her fingers around his.

“That’s right, and I’ll know if you’re not playing your best, so let’s rest while we can. You need to relax, but don’t let the game go yet. You’ve got one more challenge.”

He was still helping her, teaching her. Or, at least she thought he was. For all she knew, he might be playing her now. Kieran O’Toole wasn’t an easy man to read.

They walked to where the grass grew tall near the orchard. He sat back, leaning against a tree, and she spread out beside him. Neither touched. It wouldn’t be fair. Not now. They didn’t need distractions.

“What can we talk about?” she asked, knowing it couldn’t be the game.

“I don’t know. How about the pictures you took?”

She told him about all the moments she’d captured. She’d gotten some really good shots, and the old darkroom back at the farm was still waiting for her. Dusti knew it would take her most of the night, but she’d develop the film before dawn.

He talked a little about how his dad had taken pictures everywhere he went for as long as he could remember. Every time they moved, the “boxes of memories” had to come with them.

“I’ve tried, but I didn’t inherit his talent. I carry the camera, but I rarely remember to snap a picture.” Kieran laughed to himself. “Most of the memories I’d pack along in a box if I could would be of here. When I’m in Paris or Rome I often think of Harmony. There’s a peace here. Austin and I talked about it once when we had dinner in New York. We think the people who live here don’t even see it. They don’t know what they have.”

“Dust storms, grass fires, and wild pigs,” Dusti reminded him.

“Oh course, lass, but Harmony also has the prettiest girls in the world, and clear air, and long sunsets, and . . .”

“I get your point. Maybe I should spend a few days capturing all this beauty you see. I could probably get the chickens to pose for a few shots.”

“I’d like that,” he said as he closed his eyes and folded his arms across his chest.

Dusti watched him for a while. He was relaxed here. Even waiting for the biggest game in the county to begin, he was relaxed. She couldn’t help but wonder if he was the same in all those big cities he passed through.

Finally, when someone blinked the yard lights, he moved. When he opened his eyes, she saw no sign that he’d been sleeping. “Win or lose,” he whispered, “will you send me the pictures? I’d like to cover a wall of my apartment with them. Then when I come home, I’ll be feeling like I’m coming back to Harmony.”

“Sure. If you’ll send me postcards of the cities you visit. I think it must be fascinating to travel the world for a living. Every time you fly somewhere new, you have to mail me a card.”

“Fair trade. You can dream of traveling and I’ll dream of Harmony. Sometimes I think it would be heaven to look out the same window every morning until the seasons make a full circle, or walk into a room and know what’s in every drawer without looking.” He was silent for a while, then added, “When I’m all alone in a city, I think about how great it would be to walk down a street and say hello or wave at all the people. I’d know where I was, not just the name of the place, or a street number, but I’d know where I was even blindfolded.”

“Sounds pretty boring to me.” She stared up at the stars.

“You wouldn’t think so if you ran into a wall and door frames in the dark once a month because you forgot the layout of the room or thought you were home. I once fell off a balcony thinking I was headed to the bathroom. Luckily I was on the first-floor balcony. Unluckily, I was sleeping nude that night.”

She laughed. “I’d pay to see that.”

“Which one? Me falling off, or me naked?”

“Both.”

“You might get your chance one day, lass.”

“Which one?” she asked, as if serious.

“Both, probably,” he answered. “I’m a heavy sleeper who tends to walk in my sleep, and I’ve always considered pajamas extra weight in my luggage, except of course when I’m traveling to Granny’s house.”

“You still take the long flannel footies to your grandmother’s?”

“No, she always buys them for me every Christmas. They’re there waiting for me on the twin bed in her sewing room.”

She giggled at the thought of Kieran hanging off both ends of a twin bed.

He reached over and held her hand as if they’d been lovers for years. His easy conversation had done the job; she’d relaxed.

Finally, she asked, “When will you be leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning. I really did just come to play and check on my grandmother.”

“Tomorrow,” she said, and before she thought, she added, “I’ll miss you.” She wanted to add that she’d miss all the
could have been
s too. For the first time she hadn’t acted on an attraction, and she had a feeling she’d always regret not having more time with him.

“You won’t have time to miss me much. Remember your promise. We have a date.”

“You still want that?” The thought of spending an entire evening alone with him and nothing happening between them sounded like pure torture.

“You bet. I’ve got it all planned out in my mind.”

“Wanna tell me?”

“No, lass, ye’ll have to wait until the time is right. You made me wait long enough before saying yes to this date, so it won’t hurt you to wonder for a while.” He winked. “I used to wonder what you looked like in your underwear, but now I know. Fires up my daydreams, I can tell you that.”

“Okay, a real date, but don’t make it too long or I’ll be married with three kids before the invitation arrives.”

He laughed and brought her hand to his lips. The kiss was light, almost casual, but it made her want more.

A chime sounded from the front porch. The last round was about to start.

Time to play for her future.

Win or lose.

With or without Kieran by her side.

Chapter 29

TRUMAN FARM

LAST ROUND OF TEXAS HOLD’EM

D
USTI WALKED AHEAD OF
K
IERAN INTO THE OLD BARN THAT
now served as office and packing space for Truman Apples. With the aged wood and the empty boxes lining the walls, the place smelled of apple cider. The kind folks drink hot with a touch of cinnamon, not on warm nights like this one.

Bill stood as she neared the small square table. “I’ll be the dealer, this last round,” he said simply. “One of you will walk away the winner tonight. Good luck to you both.”

Dusti nodded at him. He’d been the best dealer. It was only fair he deal the final round.

She took the seat to Bill’s left. Kieran took the one to his right. The tall Scot had taken off his shirt and now wore only a T-shirt that molded to his perfect body.

“V-neck trick, I’m guessing,” she whispered, knowing he’d be the only one to understand. He’d warned her about wearing something low cut. Said it wasn’t playing fair.

He shook his head. “There’s just no breeze in here to cool off.” Then, she swore he blushed.

“I’d never pull that trick.” She fought down a laugh. There was something about a redheaded man blushing that was so hot.

Gray eyes met hers. “You don’t have to, lass. I could look at you in jeans and a flannel shirt and forget what planet I’m on.”

Now it was her turn. She felt her cheeks warm.

“Let’s play poker,” Bill said. “I’m starting to feel like more of a chaperone than a dealer.”

As the cards were shuffled, Dusti stared at Kieran, wanting him to look at her again, but he kept his head down. Even when the first two cards were dealt, he didn’t look up. It was almost as if she now sat alone.

She thought of all the ways he’d been able to read her. In the earlier games of the tournament, she’d tried hard not to widen her eyes when she got a good hand or lick her lips when she was nervous bluffing. Only this time it wouldn’t matter, because he wasn’t watching her.

It occurred to her that he didn’t want the advantage. Even though he’d told her he’d be playing to win, he planned to simply play the cards dealt this time. It bothered her that he’d thought to be so considerate, almost as much as it irritated her that she wouldn’t even have considered returning the favor. Kieran O’Toole was a better person than she was, but then she’d always be near the back of that line.

Her mother’s favorite saying was, “Why can’t you be good like Abby?” But the way Dusti saw it, the angel-in-the-family part was already taken, so she contented herself in trying out all the other roles.

Dusti forced the images of being bad, really bad, with Kieran from her mind. She had a game to play first. There would be time with Kieran later, even if she had to track him down.

Round after round flowed in the evening air. A dozen men stood watching. The music had stopped, but Dusti could hear the muffled voices of people cleaning up the food and drinks. The fund-raiser had been a great success. The library would have its remodel, and one ticket to Vegas waited for the winner.

One ticket into the biggest pot around. One chance to change her life.

Dusti concentrated, weighing every fold, every call, every bet. She could almost hear him in her head.
Don’t fidget. Don’t play with your chips. Don’t give your opponent any advantage.

Only now she was playing with Kieran. Only Kieran. He probably knew a dozen signs that he hadn’t even mentioned to her, and she didn’t really know him at all. For all she knew he’d been bluffing from the moment he’d walked up to her in Buffalo’s Bar.

Play the game,
she reminded herself.
Play to win.

She knew Kieran was doing the same thing because he was giving away nothing. He never looked at his cards more than once. His raises were steady and planned. No wild bets or plays to make her nervous or try to corner her into doing something she might regret. Straight poker.

Half an hour passed. Bill asked both if they needed a break. Dusti shook her head and looked up at Kieran. He did the same without looking back at her. She might as well be playing with a total stranger. He seemed all focused on the game. If he had one thought in his head besides poker, she couldn’t read a thing.

Bill passed her a pocket pair. Two cards face down. Two aces.

Dusti fought not to smile. The best two cards she could have. Her effort to remain totally still didn’t matter, he wasn’t looking at her anyway. Yet, she fought to keep from dancing in the chair.

She had more chips than he did. She’d been winning more hands lately. Her luck had just gone from good to great. This could be the last hand if she played it right.

Bill turned the flop. A four of hearts, a seven of clubs, and an ace of diamonds. Excitement shot through her, almost making her jump up and hug Bill. She had three aces.

The first round of betting began. He raised her. She hesitated as if thinking about folding, then met his bet. There was no way she’d fold, but he didn’t need to know just how good her pocket cards were.

Bill turned another card and lined it up with the others. A seven, giving her a full house. Three aces and two sevens. Even if he had a seven or four in the pocket, he couldn’t win.

Kieran didn’t move. She raised, tripling the bet. To her surprise, he stayed in.

The last card, called the “river,” flipped on the table. Another four.

Now two pair were showing on the table. Even if he had another seven or a third four, he couldn’t beat her.

She tripled the bet again, knowing this would put him very low on chips.

“All in,” he said. “Call.”

Dusti smiled and turned over her aces. For the first time in the game, he looked straight into her eyes, but he wasn’t smiling, he was staring as if memorizing her face.

“Very nice, lass,” a tired Scottish voice said. “You got me beat.” He tossed his two cards toward Bill.

She knew she should be a good sport and shake hands, but she squealed and jumped up to hug him.

He pulled her close and whispered, “I must be one great teacher. I just didn’t plan on you beating me.” His words were stilted, almost rehearsed. “Beginner’s luck. We’ll have to play again sometime.”

As he turned her loose, folks watching surrounded her. Hugging, patting her on the back. Telling her dumb things like they couldn’t believe a woman won.

Dusti’s eyes filled with tears as Abby broke through the crowd and held on to her. “You did it, little sister. I’m so proud of you.”

“We’re almost there,” Dusti added. Tonight had been the easy part. Vegas would be ten times harder. Anyone who could afford a thousand-dollar buy-in would know how to play. The hard poker was yet to come.

Just stay in the game to make one of the paying spots,
she reminded herself. In a month they’d have the tuition for nursing school. By fall, Abby would be in school again.

Abby cried, which only made Dusti cry harder.

No one but Kieran saw the dealer pick up the cards he had tossed on the table. Bill turned them face up as he put them on top of the deck.

Two fours.

Bill glanced up, a question in his stare.

Kieran shook his head.

Bill’s nod was so slight, no one but an expert poker player would have noticed it. The old man slipped the deck back into the box.

Two fours. The only hand in the deck that could have beaten three aces and two sevens.

Bill grinned. “Over four-thousand-to-one odds of making that four of a kind.”

Kieran answered in a whisper, “I guess it just wasn’t my night.”

He moved into the crowd, smiling as if he’d been the winner tonight and not the one who’d lost.