Bucking the Tiger (12 page)

“You're leaving?” Lottie asked as she stood in her sitting room with her arms folded. “Caleb, stand still for a second and answer me.”

Gathering up his belongings didn't take very long. Caleb normally lived with his things packed up and ready to go. Without the lead in his wound to slow him down, it was much less of an ordeal to throw his stuff together now than when he'd left Lottie's. After stuffing the last of his shirts into his bag, Caleb took a breath and looked over at her.

Lottie stood with her eyes fixed on him. A grim expression shrouded her face. “When did you decide this?” she asked.

“About an hour ago,” Caleb replied. “Mike's already gone. I wouldn't be too surprised if you got a visit from the sheriff next.”

“Will you come back?”

“Probably, but not for a while.” Forcing himself to truly look into her eyes, Caleb stopped what he was doing and walked over to her. When he placed his hands on her shoulders, he felt Lottie draw closer to him rather than pull away. “I don't even think a real warrant was issued for any of us. Doc was right. This is just a way to shove us out of town. It's also a way for Taylor to flex his muscles without sticking his nose out from wherever he's hiding.”

“It could be Taylor or it might have come from higher up,” Lottie pointed out.

Caleb let out a grunt of a laugh, which sent a painful twinge through his back. “Straight from the Tiger's mouth, huh? Every time I hear that name, I can't get over how fucking ridiculous it is.”

“Whatever name they go by, they're known all over the circuit. Boyer always said they had the law on their side. I guess this serves to remind everyone about that very thing.”

“Which also means they'll spread the word about how we got run out of Fort Griffin,” Caleb said. “I might as well go back to Dallas and sweep the floors at my old saloon. We won't be given a real game anywhere that's heard about this. We'll be pegged as suckers or weak enough to step on whenever it suits someone's purpose.”

“Apart from bruising your pride, that's not a bad arrangement. You and Doc make a hell of a pair. You took Taylor for all he had and he was ready for you. I'm not the only one that's impressed with that.” She leaned forward while slipping her arms around him and being careful not to touch Caleb's bandaged wound. “Anyone else who still thinks you're easy pickings,” she whispered into his ear, “will play accordingly. I'm not the only cardplayer who would kill for that sort of attention.”

“There are some possibilities,” Caleb admitted.

When she nodded, Lottie brushed her lips against Caleb's earlobe. “I never thought anyone would be able to humble Taylor like you two did.”

“Doc did most of the work on that one.”

She shook her head, causing some of her red locks to tickle Caleb's neck. “You set them up and fed Doc the cards he needed. The only reason I caught you doing it was because I couldn't take my eyes off you that whole night. It was a work of art, Caleb.”

“You think so?” Caleb asked as he settled his hands on the sloping curves of her hips.

Lottie's reply was an intoxicating touch of warm breath against Caleb's skin. “Mmm hmmm. When do you plan on leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning after me and Doc get up and eat. So that makes it closer to tomorrow afternoon.”

“Then let's enjoy what's left of our time together.”

As Caleb moved his hand along the top of Lottie's blouse, she shrugged her shoulders so the material slipped down. Her hands were busy as well, slowly peeling off his shirt while still minding the bandages underneath.

“You're leaving?” Trish asked in a voice that rose sharply to an ear-splitting pitch.

Doc was once again in bed, but there were two major differences from the last time he'd been stretched out and savoring a cigarette: he wasn't thinking about his health and it wasn't his own bed.

“It's only going to be for a while,” Doc said. “There's some business that needs to be taken care of.”

Trish wore a pout on her face as she moved across the floor toward the bed. Apart from the pout and a silk slip, she wasn't wearing anything else. “But I just got used to having you here.”

“That's sweet, but there's nothing I can do about it.” At just the right moment, Doc winced. He put just enough drama into it to get Trish rushing over to him and climbing onto the bed.

“Are you feeling all right?” she asked. “Did you see the doctor?”

“He told me that all I needed was to get some rest and have someone care for me. Since I'm traveling, I don't see how I'll fill either of those bills.”

Straddling his waist, Trish straightened her back and looked down at him with a glimmer in her eyes. “I can make you feel better,” she said.

“I don't know. It may be too much to ask.”

Slowly, Trish gathered up her slip and peeled it up and over her head. When she tossed it to one corner, she leaned forward to make sure Doc got a good look at her trim body.

“Actually,” Doc said, “you may just be up to the challenge.”

She smiled and slipped under the covers with him. “I think I can manage.”

Doc and Caleb left Fort Griffin quietly the next afternoon. There was a fine that was supposed to have been paid, but neither of them felt like contributing one more penny to the very thing that had pushed them out of town in the first place. One of Jacobs's deputies was at the platform where the stage to Denver was being loaded. He watched the men climb on board and stayed there to make certain they were truly intent on leaving.

Doc tossed a friendly wave toward the deputy as the driver snapped his reins and got the stagecoach moving.

The next several days were filled with the growing heat of a quickly approaching summer. That, compounded by being cooped up in yet another cramped carriage, made the trip much less easier for Doc to bear than the one that had originally brought him into town. To make matters worse, the stage didn't travel directly to Denver. In fact, there was some backtracking to be done as the stage needed to cross paths with another stage in Jacksboro.

Caleb leaned his head back so he could rest his eyes and allow a smug little grin to creep onto his face.

Doc sat next to a bald preacher, who was the only other passenger in the carriage. He gazed out the window until the scenery failed to strike his fancy and then he turned his attention to Caleb. “You look unusually chipper,” he said.

Without opening his eyes, Caleb said, “Just relishing the moment.”

“I know the inside of this coach smells like ambrosia, but I highly doubt it's worth relishing. You must be dwelling on the image of a certain redhead.”

“And what if I am?”

“Then, by all means, share that image with your friend and partner.”

Caleb gave Doc a quick look from one partially opened eye. Making certain to add a bit more to his smile, he said, “We're not partners in everything, Doc. Besides, it looked to me like that blonde kept you busy.”

“Trish was pretty,” Doc said. “She has her talents. But she's just…I don't even know how to say it.”

“Just a sip of water when you had your hopes set on wine?” Caleb offered.

Doc snapped his head back with blatant surprise. “That's it, exactly!”

“I've had a few women like that. Still, Trish had some awfully fine talents.”

“She did, indeed.”

Sitting up a bit, Caleb glanced over to the preacher sitting next to Doc. The bald man was snoring loudly and slumped to one side, just as he'd been for most of the ride. “By the way, you were right about Lottie.”

“How so?”

“She was lying about not knowing who Taylor truly was. I don't know for certain how much she knew, but it was definitely more than she was letting on.”

“That's a shame.”

“Not really,” Caleb said. “Because she let a few more things slip throughout the night.”

“You two had a conversation?”

“Just bits and pieces where the Tiger was concerned, but I could put them together.”

Doc grinned and nodded approvingly. “You sly devil. Proceed.”

“Even though people pay those taxes, none of them are happy about it. I think it's something that's done more as a convenience than anything else.”

“They must get something out of it.”

“Oh, they do. For one thing, they get steered toward games by whoever is dropping the Tiger's name at the moment. Targets are set up and picked off and the profits are taxed.”

“Not a bad idea,” Doc said.

“Also, the law is kept happy enough to let the gamblers do what they want even when some of the more respected members of a community are fleeced. That's a tough feat for anyone to pull off.”

“True.”

“But the biggest thing is that the law doesn't actually work in league with the Tiger. In some places, the law doesn't even know about them.”

“Now that's what I call a bluff. I'm a little jealous. You did a whole lot of talking last night, Caleb. How disappointing. Do you think she can be trusted since she lied to us before?”

“Lottie's been working with the Tiger here and there as a way to cover herself. That's all.”

Narrowing his eyes, Doc asked, “Can you be sure about that?”

“Not completely, but my gut tells me that's the case. She mentioned it was the only way some professionals could operate and stay alive. Since she was running a game on her own and has been known to do the same in plenty of other towns, it stands to reason that she's been getting her protection from somewhere.”

“It may be a fairly new arrangement, since Boyer killed the man who was acting as her protection before we arrived,” Doc pointed out.

“Exactly. She could have turned on us a dozen times during that game and she didn't. She stuck to her part of the plan and even protected Mike when the lead started to fly.”

“I saw the look in her eyes when she was with Mike in those last few moments. If she did have an arrangement with Taylor, I don't think Mike almost getting killed was part of it. Did you find out anything else?”

Caleb grinned and started to nod. “I sure did.”

“Saving the best for last?”

“Once someone has proven to be a good little earner and keeps up on their taxes, they're able to find the Tiger wherever they go and don't have to wait around for an introduction.”

“Was she good enough to share who we might look for in Denver once some of these recent troubles simmer down?”

Caleb nodded.

“Then we are most definitely still in business.”

Jacksboro was the sort of town that everyone knew about just because it was on the way to somewhere else. Stagecoaches stopped over or passed through on a regular schedule, and cowboys would sometimes spend a night or two in one of the hotels simply because they were too tired to move along to Dallas or Fort Griffin.

Doc's first instinct was to stop just long enough to refill his flask and then try to persuade the driver to keep right on going. Caleb, on the other hand, felt something nagging at him that made him want to stay for a bit longer.

“Why on earth would you rather stay here than move along to Denver?” Doc asked. “There should be a stage passing through here that's heading into Colorado within a few hours.”

“A few hours?” Caleb asked.

“Well, I didn't check the schedule.”

They climbed down from the stage, leaving the preacher to sleep or wake up on his own time. When Doc's boots hit the dirt, he pulled in a deep breath and let it out easily. When Caleb tentatively set a foot down, he winced and sucked in a breath through gritted teeth.

“I don't care what the schedule is,” Caleb said. “I can't take being shaken up in that damned box for much longer.”

Doc put a hand on Caleb's shoulder and turned him around. Sure enough, the back of his shirt was starting to soak through with blood in a spot the size of a silver dollar. “You need to get these bandages changed. Are you feeling dizzy?”

“A bit.”

“Come on, then. Let's get you looked at.”

The doctor in Jacksboro operated from a small storefront office not far from a drugstore, which sold mostly powders and scented oils that had dropped off the backs of wagons and were never reclaimed.

“You stay here as long as you need,” Doc said. “I'll arrange for a few rooms.”

“You think it's serious?” Caleb asked.

“No, just a little blood loss. I've seen it plenty of times in my own practice.”

“Actually, I'm already feeling better.”

“Just go see what the doctor says and I'll be at that place we passed along the way.”

“You mean the poker hall?”

“I believe that was it.”

Caleb nodded. “I get it. Thanks for all the concern, Doc.”

“I'm concerned,” Doc said defensively. “But there's no reason one of us can't earn while the other rests.”

“Sure, Doc.”

“If you had a problem with your teeth, I'd help you out. If I had a supply of spare bandages in my pocket, I'd do the same. Would you like me to hold your hand and lead you to the doctor's table?”

“No.”

Doc straightened his jacket and checked his watch. “Good. Now stop your whining and get some fresh dressings. After that, I'll buy you a drink and we can get to work on seeing how much of an impression we can make in this place.”

“You're all heart, Doc. It's no wonder most folks would rather have their teeth rot than see a dentist.”

“That's just the blood loss talking. Crying about it won't make you feel any better. Here we are,” Doc said cheerily as he stopped in front of the doctor's office. “If I don't see you in a few hours, I'll assume you died from your grievous wounds. By the way, I am your sole beneficiary as far as your personal finances go, right?”

“I bequeath one of my boots to be delivered straight up your ass. You want it now?”

Doc chuckled and patted Caleb on the shoulder before turning around and heading back up the street.

Caleb was in too much pain to think about Doc's needling. As the stagecoach ride had progressed, the wound in his back had felt like a nail being slowly tapped into his shoulder. By the time he walked into what passed for the doctor's office in Jacksboro, that nail felt more like a railroad spike.

“What can I do fer ya?” asked a small man in his late forties with a receding hairline and a bulbous nose.

“I need to see a doctor,” Caleb replied.

“That's me. Pull up a chair and sit in it. You look like hell.”

That much could also be said about the doctor's office. It was so small that Caleb barely even realized he was inside of it until he sat down. There was a counter along one side that looked like it belonged in a general store. Rather than candy or watches displayed within the counter's glass case, there were a few bottles of tablets and some fairly clean medical instruments.

“Them pills ain't fer sale unless I prescribe 'em,” the doctor grunted. “If that's what yer after, then you can just turn 'round and head right back out.”

Caleb did turn around, but only after he'd settled into the creaking chair the doctor had offered. “I'm here for this,” he said while hooking a thumb over his shoulder.

Squinting and mumbling to himself, the doctor balanced a set of spectacles upon the bridge of his nose and started peeling off Caleb's shirt. “What happened here?” he asked.

“I got shot.”

After a brief pause, the doctor made some more noises and then stripped off the bandages. “Eh,” he said after cleaning up the wound and having a closer look. “Could've been worse. Bullet still in there?”

“No.”

“Can you move yer arm?”

“Yes.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes,” Caleb said emphatically.

“Then you might get some of them drugs after all.”

“I'm not after drugs. I just want to make sure the doctor in Fort Griffin didn't do more harm than good.”

“You may need stitches, but that's about it.”

“What?”

“You were hoping for worse news?”

“No,” Caleb said. “I just thought that it was something worse. I mean, I did get shot.”

“Nicked is more like it. Appears that all the damage was in the meat of the shoulder. Otherwise, you wouldn't be able to move around half as much as you do. All you need is some time to heal and a good batch of clean bandages. I got plenty of them on sale right here.”

“That's it?”

“Oh. And stitches. You need to do that or you'll keep losing blood as that wound reopens. Your other doctor probably would have gotten around to it. If you like, I can do that right now, but it might sting.”

“Go on,” Caleb sighed.