Page 38 of A Convenient Heart
Her disappointment remained as she allowed him to escort her out of the dance hall. He glanced both ways down the boardwalk as they exited. Was he looking for someone?
But he’d closed himself off and she didn’t dare ask him. Would he ever open up to her?
Chapter8
The man across the table from Jack made a little groan and flipped his cards onto the surface, face down.
A fold. Jack was the only one still betting, which meant he didn’t have to reveal his cards. He pulled the small pile of coins from the center of the table and reached for the discarded cards and the deck so he could shuffle.
Movement behind the bar drew his eyes as his hands completed familiar motions.
It was the barkeep, a man who might be Jack’s age, wiping down the bar.
Impatience flared, disappointment on its heels.
Jack had come to the saloon tonight to find out everything he could about Billy Burns. He’d settled in at the poker table, where men had come and gone as the night had worn on.
It was late now. He felt the pull of exhaustion as he dealt the cards once more. Tonight wasn’t about his winnings, though he was up over a dollar.
Burns had been helping his barman behind the long counter earlier in the night, when things had been busy. But he’d disappeared into an office behind the bar an hour ago and hadn’t returned.
Jack needed to get out of town. He couldn’t forget Morris was looking for him. But it was the pull toward Merritt that was becoming too much of a temptation.
He liked her. Too much.
All Jack needed was one or two vital facts about Burns. Some kind of leverage, a way to get him to back off on his plans to take the land. Jack wouldn’t get the information he needed sitting out here with the handful of patrons left in the place at this late hour.
He folded without a word, tossing his cards face down on the table.
“Another hand?” The man with salt-and-pepper hair, sitting across from him, shuffled this time.
Jack flipped his ante to the center of the table.
He needed to finish this.
Merritt would be unhappy if she knew he was here. She didn’t condone gambling. Or saloons.
He had almost kissed her today.
The memory had popped into his mind at inopportune times all night.
The softness of her skin beneath his fingertips. The flutter of her lashes, the way she’d leaned in…
The warmth of her breath,right thereon his own lips.
He’d wanted it so badly.
Only his conscience shouting at him had prevented the kiss.
He forced away the memory of the hurt in her brown eyes and had to take a second look at his cards. The man across the table was almost asleep, but the one sitting kitty-corner to Jack wore a sharp look.
Merritt was a distraction, even in his memories.
Especially on the heels of meeting with Mr. Carson, the preacher. The manhadn’tpreached fire and brimstone after all. He’d read Jack a story about one man on a journey, who’d been beaten and robbed, and another man who’d come along and helped him. Jack didn’t understand. And not understanding bothered him.
Where was Burns?
Jack’s emotions were tangled in knots, and it was all because of Merritt.
