Shotgun Vows. Teresa Southwick
little contact. When he’d first suggested coming with her to the game, she’d wondered if, possibly, he was intimidated by Griff and was taking advantage of the fact that her brother was gone to hang out with her. Now she knew she’d been wrong. He was trying to get rid of her. But Matilda Fortune didn’t scare easy.
“Seriously, Mattie. Cowboys are superstitious. They think it’s bad luck to deal a woman in.”
“Then why did they invite me?” She tried to keep her voice level and pleasant. Not easy when she wanted to bop him.
“They’re superstitious and polite.”
“I’m willing to risk it.”
“It’s your funeral,” he said. He shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets, lifting his suit jacket.
It was a blatantly masculine pose in spite of his sissy suit. That made her wonder what he would look like dressed in jeans and boots, like a cowboy. She had a feeling the image would give her no peace of mind.
“Okay,” she answered with an emphatic nod, then rapped on the door.
“Come in.” That was Bobby Lee’s voice.
Mattie turned the knob and pushed the door inward. She was surprised to see that only three cowboys were there. Ethan and Bobby Lee who shared the cabin, and Burch Picket, a hand who had been hired around the time she’d arrived. They looked up from their cards when Mattie walked in.
She had a quick impression of wooden floors and several bunks. In the corner, there were couches and a couple of chairs in front of a television. The other corner held a small kitchen complete with refrigerator and stove. There was an empty space in the middle because they’d pulled the table into the cabin’s main room for the game.
Her gaze rested on dark-haired, brown-eyed Ethan. She knew he was right around her own age, but he looked about seventeen. Even his sunburned face didn’t hide the fact that he’d hardly started shaving yet. She thought he was cute, but was vaguely disturbed that being in the same room with him didn’t produce any sort of physical response on her part. Not the way being around Dawson did. But that probably had something to do with how angry she’d been the first time she met him, and how he baited her every time he opened his mouth. Ethan seemed like a sweetie, and she just had to get to know him better.
“Hi, guys,” she said, greeting all the men.
“What are you doing here, Mattie?” Bobby Lee didn’t look too happy. The blond, blue-eyed cowboy’s frown was a big clue.
Her heart fell. That wasn’t exactly the greeting she’d been hoping for. “It’s poker night,” she said lamely.
“Yeah.” Ethan threw his cards down. “But we didn’t think you would—”
“Howdy, stranger.” Bobby Lee smiled slowly and stood up, walking toward her. “Been a long time.”
“Not that long,” she said, confused.
Then she shivered as she felt him behind her. She’d momentarily forgotten. Dawson. He was so close, and the heat of his body warmed her clear down to her toes. The scent of his cologne tied her stomach in knots. Her heart skipped a beat, kicking her confusion up a notch.
“Yeah, it has been a long time,” Dawson answered, reaching out to shake hands with him.
Ethan joined them, just inside the door. “Good to see you,” the young cowboy said.
“Goes for me, too. We haven’t seen much of you since Zane got married and you quit hanging out here with him.” Bobby Lee chimed in. “Dawson, you know Burch Pickett, right?”
“We’ve met,” he said.
The man nodded. “Howdy.”
“Ethan, pull up a chair for Dawson.”
“What about me?” Mattie asked, hands on her hips.
“Oh, Mattie,” Bobby Lee said. There was less warmth in his voice than when he’d greeted Dawson. “I figured you just brought Dawson down here to be neighborly. You’re really fixin’ t’ play cards, are you?”
“That was my plan.” She felt about as welcome as the plague.
Ethan pulled over another chair and put it next to the first. “Here you go, Mattie,” he said. “Take a load off, Dawson.”
They sat next to each other at the round table, at the center of which sat a bowl of popcorn and another of pretzels. Cards, coins and bills were scattered across the scratched wooden top.
While the men were moving around getting drinks and refilling snack bowls, she whispered to Dawson, “Do you know what the money is for?”
“Betting,” he said. “Makes it more interesting.”
She would have to take his word on that. She had a bigger problem. “I don’t have any money with me. Do you?”
He looked at her as if she had pink hair. “Of course I’ve got money.”
“Can you lend me some? Just until we get back to the house?”
“Okay.” He pulled out some folded bills and handed her a couple as he asked, “Do you know anything about poker?”
“Nope. But how hard can it be?” she asked, taking the money.
Ethan handed Dawson a beer and said, “You deal.”
“Where’s my beer?” Mattie asked, anxious to be a part of the whole thing, to experience everything.
“Are you old enough to drink?” Dawson asked, a twinkle in his eyes. “I’d ask for ID if I were you,” he said to Ethan.
“Number one, I’m twenty-one,” she said. “Number two, thanks to you, we’re on foot and not driving. So who cares if I have a beer?” It annoyed her no end that none of the cowboys moved until Dawson gave them a nod.
“Thanks,” she said, when Ethan set the beer can in front of her. She looked at Dawson. “Now you can deal.”
“All right, your ladyship.” He looked around at the chuckling men, then his gaze rested on her. She didn’t miss the challenge there. With supreme confidence he began shuffling the deck. “Mattie has never played before.” The remark produced a series of black looks and barely concealed annoyance. “So let’s start with something simple.”
That was the Dawson she’d come to know and not love. He didn’t have to do her any favors. She made a mental note to give him a piece of her mind later. “No need to go easy on me,” she said. “I’ll pick it up fast.”
He smiled, irritating her with the genuine cheerfulness in his look. “All right,” he said. “No special treatment.” He started to deal, letting the cards land facedown in front of each player. “How about seven card, no peek, roll your own, one-eyed jacks and kings with mustaches wild?” he asked.
Mattie stared at him. “Roll your own? Is this cigarettes or poker?”
“Poker. Do you want me to deal you out?”
“Not on your life,” she said, sipping her beer. Nasty stuff, she thought. But she would drink the whole can and ask for another before she would let one of them know how much she hated it. “I just have one question. What’s this about one-eyed jacks and kings with mustaches?”
Dawson stopped dealing, and quickly riffled through the deck, pulling out the cards in question. He showed her the difference. She nodded. “Thanks,” she said. “You can finish now.”
He buried the cards to everyone’s satisfaction and completed the job. Without a word, Ethan, who sat on Dawson’s right, flipped over his top card. It was a nine of clubs. Then he tossed a dollar into the center of the table. When everyone did the same, she put money in, too. Burch turned over four of his cards, and stopped when he showed a king—clean-shaven, Mattie noticed. He put three dollars