Page 2 of The Earl's Wrangler
“The only time Alan uses my title is when he’s angry with me.It took me a long time to begin to understand him.When I first brought him to the estate, I wondered if he would fit in.Instead, he learned who every person was who worked there and treated them all the same way.He worked harder than anyone—still does.But I will say this: if Alan gives you respect, it isn’t because of position or rank—it’s because you earned it.”George finished the last of his drink and set the glass aside.“Thank you for the drink.I understand there’s to be cards in about an hour.Are you going to play?”
Randall nodded.“You know me.I’m always up for cards.”It was one of the things he was truly good at.When playing, he had a very good read on the other players and almost always came out ahead.
“Excellent.I’m going to check on Alan, but I’ll see you in an hour.”George flashed him a genuine smile before leaving the room.Randall watched him go, wondering why Alan unleveled his world so easily and why the room felt a little duller now that he and George had left.
THE CARDroom was fairly full when Randall entered.The club staff was ready with chips and had the tables set up the same way they had been for decades.Most regular players had seats they preferred, and Randall headed for his only to find Alan sitting in it.Of course.He swallowed and took a chair at the same table, sitting next to the marquess and across from George.
“Now, my cowboy friend, no cleaning me out the way you did last time,” the marquess said seriously.Cards were always serious business in the club.
“I’ll take it easy on you.I don’t want Madeline angry with me,” Alan replied with that huge smile of his, while others sat down, filling the spaces at the table.The card stewards made their rounds so everyone could buy in.This was a gentleman’s club, so no money actually changed hands at the tables.All money was handled through the club in a discreet manner.Alan, since he was a guest, must have made prior arrangements, because the stewards simply gave him what he requested.
They cut the cards to see who would deal first, and Randall gathered the cards and dealt the first hand.
Everyone seemed to be feeling each other out, so there were no large moves at first, but after a few hands, things became more spirited.Randall won two small pots, enough to put him slightly ahead, which was good, but games of cards lasted for hours, and more than anything, he wanted to wipe the smile off that damned cowboy’s face.
“I’M FINISHEDfor today,” the marquess said as he tossed in his hand.“I’ve lost enough to you,” he told Alan, who had the largest stack of chips at the table.“Madeline will be upset if I continue.”He patted Alan on the shoulder.
“You tell that lovely wife of yours that I said hello and that the next time you visit I should have that old carriage you found at your place ready for the two of you to take a ride.”
“She is going to love that,” the marquess said before nodding to the others at the table and leaving the room, using his cane for support.
Throughout the evening, the number of tables had diminished and the players had condensed down to fewer tables until only their table was left.“I think this is my last hand,” Alan said as he turned to George.
“You need to give us a chance to get even,” Randall said, looking down at his comparatively meager stack of chips.
“What I need to do is stop before you lose any more,” Alan said gently, but Randall’s temper rose, and he had to remind himself to stay calm and not give anything away.“George, it’s your deal,” Alan said as he tossed in his initial chips.Randall did the same as the others at the table slid their chairs back.
“I’m out.”
“So am I,” the other players said.
“It looks like it’s just us.”No one else to get in the way.Randall had been studying Alan all evening, and he was pretty sure he’d gotten a sense of when Alan was bluffing.George dealt the cards and let the two of them play.
Randall was dealt a possible outside straight with a paired eight.Alan bet, and Randall raised him two hundred pounds, which drew the attention of the others still observing.“You’re going to have to pay to play.”
“Call,” Alan said coolly, and they each took one card, which Randall thought interesting.He’d broken his pair of eights, and lo and behold, he hit the straight.When Alan bet, Randall raised once more, this time five hundred pounds.
Alan sat calmly and raised as well, this time a thousand pounds.“I don’t have enough here to cover that,” Randall said, knowing the club rules were always table stakes.It helped head off any number of issues between the members, especially where money was concerned.
Alan set his cards facedown.“Care for a little side wager?If you win, I’ll pay out as if you called.”
“And if you win?”Randall asked.
Alan glanced at George.“Then you work off the debt.”
“At George’s estate?What’s the point?”Randall shrugged.
“No, at my family ranch.George will be returning for a couple of weeks in October, and if I win, then you work off the debt in Wyoming, to my mother’s satisfaction.”There was a sparkle in those damned blue eyes.
“All right.I call you.”There was no need to push his chips in the middle, so he sat back and then showed his cards.“A straight, nine to the king.”He was fairly sure he had the winning hand.Alan had blinked more than once when he’d gotten his last card, which, according to his past play, meant he hadn’t gotten the card he’d wanted.
“Looks like you’re going to be mucking out stalls,” Alan said as he showed a full house.“Jacks full of eights.”He sat back, and Randall gaped for a second before standing and reaching across the table.This was a gentleman’s game, and win or lose, he had no intention of showing just how angry and upset he was with himself.He had let Alan bait him, and now in his haste to put Alan in his place, his mouth had written a check that the rest of him would have to cash.Alan took his hand, and they shook before Randall pulled his hand back and stood.
The game steward approached Alan, presumably regarding payment.“What arrangements would you like made?”
Alan picked up two of the hundred-pound chips and handed them to the steward.“Make sure everyone who served us gets a share.And make sure Harlan is made whole.I don’t want him to get in trouble with his wife.She hates it when he plays cards.”He winked, and damned if the steward didn’t nod.
“Of course.”
