Heartstrings (21 page)

The people watching clapped wildly.

Gordie removed the pin from the line and turned it over. “We got a winner, Burris! He got number eighty-nine. Hate to part with my cash, sir, but y’won fair. Here’s your money.”

The man beamed as he accepted the bills from the game operator and a kiss on the cheek from his sweetheart.

“My escort would like to play now,” Theodosia said when the couple left. “He will bet all the money he has.”

Roman frowned.
“All
the money I—”

“How much money do you have?” she asked.

“What? Uh—I don’t know. About thirty dollars or so. But I—”

“Really, Mr. Montana,” Theodosia said, looking up into his wide blue eyes. “You witnessed yourself how easy it is to win this game. Knowing what you know about it, why would you bet a measly sum?” She turned back to the number game operator. “He’ll bet one hundred and thirty dollars, sir.”

Gordie almost fell down. “A hunnerd and thirty dollars?”

Upon hearing the high stakes, the throng of people moved closer.

Roman took Theodosia’s elbow. “Are you crazy? I—”

“Can you match a hundred and thirty dollars, sir?” she asked the game man.

“Sure can,” Gordie replied. His hands shaking with excitement, he retrieved a cash box from beneath the booth, opened it, and showed her the money. “I’ve got just about two hunnerd here.”

“Put your money down, Mr. Montana.”

Roman led her a few feet away from the stand. “Miss, Worth, I just told you that I only have about thirty—”

“But I’ve yet to pay you your salary.” Swiftly, she removed a hundred dollars in gold from her bag, returned to the counter, and laid the money down in front of Gordie. “Now add what you have, Mr. Montana.”

He saw more people swarm around the booth, some announcing they’d won at the number game, others complaining that they’d lost. Their comments convinced him that the game truly was one of skill.

“Mr. Montana?” Theodosia prompted him.

He stared at the glittering pile on the wooden counter. The gold, added to the money he already had in the various banks, brought his total savings up to almost three hundred and fifty dollars. That meant he was only a hundred and fifty dollars away from being able to pay Senor Madrigal the balance on the land. It seemed ridiculous to take the risk of losing a hundred and thirty dollars on some stupid number game.

But if he managed to ring a winning number by means of his own abilities, he’d walk away from the booth with two hundred and sixty dollars…

And the ranch would finally be his.

He studied the game’s setup again. Theodosia had said all it took to win was a good memory and a good throw.

He had both. “All right.” He added thirty dollars to the heap of gold and picked up a wooden ring.

Gordie turned the numbers back over so his customer could see them. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

Roman memorized where number sixteen was. “I’m ready.”

Gordie spun the numbers over. “Good luck, mister.”

“Don’t miss,” Theodosia added. She gave his arm a gentle squeeze and stepped back.

A hush fell over the crowd as everyone held their breath and waited for him to throw the ring. Roman ignored his large audience and targeted every ounce of his concentration on the game. The only thing in the world that mattered at that moment was the wooden pin he’d chosen.

And then, with one fluid motion, he threw the ring and watched it neatly circle the all-important pin.

“You did it, Mr. Montana!” Clapping, Theodosia joined him in front of the counter. “Give him his money, sir.”

“Well now, we gotta see if he got a winnin’ number first,” Gordie said.

“I got number sixteen,” Roman declared.

Struggling with laughter, Gordie winked at Burris again, then removed the pin from the clothesline and showed it to his customer.

Roman stared at the number on the pin. A potent mixture of disbelief, confusion, and bitter regret caused him to pound his fist on the counter.

He’d lost.

Chapter Nine

“D
ammit!”
Roman shouted.

“If my eyes ain’t foolin’ me,” Gordie said calmly, “this here pin y’ringed is number ninety-one. ’Pears your memory ain’t as good as you thought it was. Y’lose, but it was a pleasure doin’ business with you.” Deftly, he scooped the heap of money into his cash box.

Murmurs of sympathy rippled through the assembly of spectators until Theodosia’s bright laughter silenced them.

“What the hell do you think is so funny, woman?” Roman thundered. “I just lost a hundred and thirty dollars! Dammit, if I hadn’t let you talk me into playing this stupid—”

“You did not lose, Mr. Montana, and I suggest you get that money box before the Jisters take it away.”

The merry sparkle in her beautiful eyes alerted him to something he’d yet to understand. Quick as a striking serpent, he grabbed the game operator’s hand.

“Hey!” Gordie hollered as his cash box crashed back to the counter. “Just what the hell do you think you’re—”

“He did not lose, sir,” Theodosia insisted, “and you know it.”

Burris grabbed his brother’s, shoulder. “I tried to tell you, Gordie! That woman is—”

“Allow me to see the pin my escort rang,” Theodosia said, snatching it from the game man’s hand before he had time to stop her. “There are two ways of looking at this pin, Mr. Montana. Hold it thus, and you do indeed see number ninety-one. But if you hold it upside down like this—” She turned the pin upside down.

Number sixteen met Roman’s eyes.

Theodosia laid the pin down. “The seven winning numbers, nine, sixteen, eighteen, sixty-one, sixty-six, eighty-nine, and ninety-eight, may all be turned upside down so that they read six, ninety-one, eighty-one, nineteen, ninety-nine, and eighty-six. The customer can win only if the operator chooses to allow him to do so. So you see? There is nothing at all scientific about the game. It only requires a good memory and aim—and a bit of observation concerning numbers.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Roman murmured.

“The number man cheated us!” a man shouted. “I want my three dollars back!”

“Me too!” another man echoed.

Frantically, Gordie and Burris tried to escape the horde of people. Burris fell in the dirt, Gordie fell on top of him, and several of the townsmen quickly captured them. “Somebody fetch the sheriff!” one of the men ordered.

Satisfied the men could handle the Jisters, Roman opened the cash box and removed his winnings. He then handed the box to a young man standing beside him. “You can divide the rest.”

“We ain’t gonna forget what you done, lady,” Gordie warned as the sheriff and deputy of Kidder Pass arrived.

“Damned right we ain’t,” Burris added. “Somewhere, sometime, we’re gonna meet up again. And when we do—”

“When you do, you’ll meet up with me, too, Jister,” Roman reminded him.

“They’ll be incarcerated, won’t they?” Theodosia asked as the lawmen led the Jisters away.

“I doubt it,” Roman muttered. “The sheriff’ll probably just run them out of town and warn them not to come back.”

But the Jisters would be back, he knew. Both had promised to exact revenge on Theodosia, and the cold hatred in their eyes had echoed their vow.

God, Roman thought. In Oates’ Junction, Theodosia’s lack of
common sense
had placed her in danger with the three gold thieves. Here in Kidder Pass her
genius
had earned her the hatred of two carnival thugs who had not only seen her gold, but had a thirst for retaliation that would haunt them until it was fulfilled.

Daft or brilliant, it didn’t seem to matter which Theodosia was. She invariably attracted danger.

Roman decided to leave Kidder Pass in the dead of night when no one in town would notice their departure and no one outside town would expect to find them. The more miles he put between Theodosia and the Jisters, the safer she would be.

“Mr. Montana, those game men should be jailed. They—”

“Their games aren’t illegal. Shady, yes, but not illegal. Most people don’t put up much money to play the Jisters’ games, so when they don’t win, they don’t lose a lot. Of course, most people don’t have a genius to help them beat the odds.” He looked down at the money in his hand. “I…thank you,” he whispered. He wished he could say more, but he wasn’t certain how to express feelings he couldn’t decipher.

Theodosia smiled and drew her hand down his muscular arm. Her mind warned her to stop touching him so often and so intimately.

But the tender emotions in her heart impelled her to caress him whenever she had the opportunity. Indeed, she felt like hugging him.

“Will we be making another trip to Templeton, Mr. Montana?” she asked, unable to find the courage to hug him the way she wanted. “After ten years of working toward your dream, you must be thrilled to be able to give Senor Madrigal the final payment and obtain the deed to your land.”

Roman didn’t know what to say. Her insight into his thoughts and feelings…her understanding of how important his land was to him…her willingness to postpone her own plans and return to Templeton with him…

He felt like giving her a hug. Only a plain and simple thank-you hug, of course. After all, he felt nothing but gratitude toward her. Nothing more, and that was that.

But she’d probably read some profound thing into his plain and simple hug, he realized. She’d think he was infatuated with her, or maybe that he was falling in love with her.

He wouldn’t hug her. It was a stupid idea in the first place, and he was damned glad he hadn’t given in to the urge.

“Mr. Montana?”

He stuffed his money into his pocket. “I’ll get to Templeton sometime,” he finally answered her question. “I still have to collect the savings I have in the other towns before I can make the last payment on the land. Are you ready to go back to the room now?”

Maybe he’d hug her in the room, he thought suddenly. And maybe he’d kiss her there too. That way she’d know his attentions had everything to do with desire and nothing to do with emotions.

Which was the absolute truth.

“May we seek out more fun before returning to the hotel, Mr. Montana?” Theodosia asked, her interest piqued by the carnival magician performing a short distance away. “If I could only watch that man a bit more closely, I believe I could understand what tricks he uses to make those doves disappear.” She began walking toward the magician.

Roman caught her hand and led her purposefully toward town. “Miss Worth, I think you’ve had enough fun for one day.”

Two minutes after he and Theodosia returned to their hotel room, Roman hung his hat and gunbelt on the hatstand and announced he was bored.

In the act of removing her gloves, Theodosia stopped. “Bored?”

“To death.” Hands clasped behind his back, he began pacing around the room, stopping every now and then to stare out of the window and sigh heavily into the windowpane.

John the Baptist stretched his leg out between the bars of his cage. “Of course, one cannot truly indulge in the pleasure of macerating forever,” he called out.

“We could return to the fair in a while,” Theodosia suggested to Roman. She took her bonnet and shoes off and filled her parrot’s food and water containers.

Roman shook his head and shrugged out of his shirt. “I’m hot,” he explained upon seeing the startled look on her face. “Hot and bored.” He pretended a huge yawn.

Theodosia could not keep herself from staring at him. The sleek muscles in his chest stretched and coiled as if he had snakes beneath his skin. She took her fill of the sexy sight he presented, and only when the first warm tingles came to life inside her did she turn and settle into the hard, high-backed chair in front of the small writing desk. “Why don’t you indulge in a short nap?”

“I’m not sleepy. I’m bored, and sleeping is the most boring activity I can think of. Name some things we could do, and I’ll pick one.” He knew what one of her suggestions would be and hoped it wouldn’t take her long to suggest it.

“We might order a light repast. Some fruit, perhaps.”

“We just ate a few hours ago.” For effect, he stopped before the small throw rug by the bed and began pushing at it with the toe of his boot. “God, I’m bored.”

“Well, would you like to converse?”

He stared at the ceiling. “I feel like doing something quiet. Something…I don’t know. Something peaceful. I want to sit here and relax, but I don’t want to sit here doing nothing.”

She thought for a moment. “We could read for a while.”

Triumph soared through him. “Read? Well, I guess we could. But I don’t have anything to read.”

“Oh, that’s not a problem at all, Mr. Montana.” Smiling, Theodosia rose and opened one of her trunks.

Roman saw her withdraw several thick volumes, none of which was the sex-treat book. “What are those?”