Deal Me In. Cynthia Thomason

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Deal Me In - Cynthia  Thomason


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front legs wiggling. “Hi.”

      “This is my son,” she explained, as if it made perfect sense for her to descend on Cross Fox Ranch with family in tow. “His name is Sam.”

      Dobbs stepped forward and grinned at the kid. “Hello, Sam.”

      Brady acknowledged him with a nod. A silence which might have become uncomfortable was broken by Dodger. The dog darted around Dobbs and ran at the kid, barking excitedly and wagging his stub of a tail.

      Molly yanked the boy behind her. “Keep the dog back, will you?”

      Brady released a snort of laughter. “That dog’s not going to bite.”

      “I don’t know that.”

      Dobbs called Dodger back and did his magic hand thing again to quiet the animal.

      Brady stared at Molly. “I thought you said you didn’t have any family.”

      “I believe I said I wasn’t leaving behind anyone that matters. That’s true. I brought Sam with me.”

      “A kid isn’t part of the deal.”

      She settled her hand on Sam’s ball cap. “No, he isn’t.”

      “But how…?”

      “You let me worry about that. It’s not your problem.”

      “Like hell—” She scowled at him, and he clamped his mouth shut.

      “If you’d like to discuss this later, I’d be happy to,” she said. “Now’s not the time.”

      If ever a man felt like he was being rail-roaded, this was it. When Brady got up that morning, he never thought he’d be trying to figure out what to make of Molly. He never believed he’d actually end up teaching her the ins and outs of poker. And he never figured that if she did show, she’d bring a carload of baggage that included a lot more than a few suitcases of clothes.

      Brady reached in his back pocket and took out his wallet. “What’d it cost you to get here, Molly? I wouldn’t want you to make the drive back today so here’s enough for a motel room and dinner tonight. There’s a nice place in town…”

      She took a couple of steps toward him. “I don’t want traveling expenses. I want the lessons. That’s what you told me I’d get.”

      He frowned. “That was yesterday. And you brought a lot more to the table than you ever told me about, so why don’t you take the money, head on back to Prairie Bend and we’ll call the whole thing off.”

      She breathed deeply and spoke so low he had to lean in to hear her. That damn silver chain glinted in the sunlight and he had to remind himself to keep his eyes off it. “Okay,” she said, “maybe I should have told you about Sam.”

      “You think?”

      “But if I had, you wouldn’t have offered me the deal.”

      “Damn straight.”

      She rolled her eyes to Sam. “Language.”

      Somehow he reined in his temper. “Why don’t you take Molly’s son for a walk?” he said to Dobbs.

      “Sure. I can do that.”

      It was a great plan in theory, only the kid wouldn’t budge. “Sit in the car, honey,” she said to him. He got inside and sucked on the Slurpee.

      Molly turned back to Brady. “Look, I’m sorry about blindsiding you, but Sam’s going to start school soon. And when he’s not in school, he won’t be any trouble. He’s a well-behaved boy. I will need to spend time with him, of course, but I’m sure you and I will find all the opportunities we need to study.” Sensing he wasn’t convinced, she added, “And I’m a fast learner. Really, I am. And I want to do this. I’m prepared to study hard and listen to everything you tell me.”

      He slanted a suspicious look at her. “Just exactly why do you want to learn poker, Molly? What do you want the money for?”

      She parroted the line he’d given her the day before. “It’s personal.”

      “I didn’t get away with saying that yesterday,” he said. “Why should I let you get away with it today?”

      “You don’t need to know,” she evaded. “I did need to have answers about your motives. I’m the one taking a chance. I’m the outsider.”

      “You’ve got to give me something, Molly.”

      “I need a fresh start.” She stared intently at him, like she’d done when they first met in the diner. “All you need to know is that when this is over, I’ll leave. Like you explained yesterday, win or lose, I’ll be out of your life. I give you my word.”

      Her word? What did Brady know about the word of a woman he’d just met? And yet he believed what she was saying. Unfortunately, believing did not mean he was ready to take on the responsibility of a newly unemployed waitress and her silent, overweight kid.

      “What’s going on out here?” Marshall’s booming voice captured everyone’s attention. He strode out the front door, crossed the veranda and came down the steps. Stopping at the edge of the drive, he looked at the overstuffed vehicle that Brady had now identified as an older model Honda, bent to check out the boy inside and turned his focus to the three adults several yards away. He thrust his hands on his hips and said, “Damn, if you didn’t show up after all.”

      “Hello, Mr. Carrick.”

      He jutted a thumb at the car. “Is the kid yours?”

      “He is.”

      He shook his head. “Double damn.”

      Molly glanced at the car. “Please, Mr. Carrick, can’t you men say anything without swearing?”

      He touched the brim of his hat. “Begging your pardon.” He focused on Brady. “I guess the bet’s in full swing now, isn’t it, son?”

      Brady frowned. “We’re still working out the details. I wasn’t exactly prepared for their arrival.”

      “You shoulda’ been. She told you she was coming.”

      “Yes, but I thought she was just… Besides, I didn’t know she’d have a…” The boy was staring out the window, probably hearing every word.

      “He’s just a tyke,” Marshall said. “I can’t see that he’ll be much trouble.”

      Molly’s shoulders relaxed. “Thank you, Mr. Carrick. That’s exactly what I tried to tell your son.”

      The front door opened again, and Angela appeared in a long flowing dressing gown with ostrich feathers fluttering at the hem and the ends of the sleeves. “I heard a car,” she said. “Do we have company?”

      “Mom, this is Molly,” Brady said as she floated down the steps. “I met her yesterday. She’s come to work with me on a special project.”

      Angela blinked rapidly several times. “What kind of project?”

      “Has to do with poker,” Brady said.

      Angela put her index finger to her bottom lip and stared at Molly. “How interesting. I’m sure you’ll give me more details later, won’t you, Brady?”

      “Sure.”

      “What’s your last name, dear?”

      Molly turned away from Brady and answered Angela’s question. His mother’s small mouth rounded with interest. “Are you related to the Davises from King William Street in San Antonio?” she asked.

      “No, ma’am. My maiden name is Whelan and I come from a small town outside Dallas.”

      “I’m sure that’s nice, too.” Angela stared over Molly’s shoulder at the Honda. “Who’s in the car?”

      “That’s


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