Deal Me In. Cynthia Thomason

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Deal Me In - Cynthia  Thomason


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took a step forward. “You don’t have a problem teaching poker to a woman, do you?”

      He held up his hand and hoped she believed him when he said, “Of course not. But you’ve got to give this a lot of thought.”

      “I have. And I’m not agreeing to this lightly. I’ve watched poker tournaments on TV. The game doesn’t look all that hard to me. I can learn it and I can sure use the money.”

      It was as if a whole bale had just dropped down in front of him and he had to start grasping for every straw he could get his hands on. “But what about your job? You’d have to leave it to come to Cross Fox in River Bluff.”

      She feigned a sorrowful look over her shoulder. “Leaving all this would be a real shame, wouldn’t it?”

      “And what about family? There must be people who would worry about you.”

      “I wouldn’t be leaving anybody that matters.” She pointed through the window. “See that man at the counter?”

      Brady looked at the middle-aged guy behind the cash register. “Yeah.”

      “That’s Cliff. He owns the diner and he’s my uncle. As long as there’s a waitress here to fill the ketchup bottles, he won’t miss me.”

      Brady figured there had to be someone in her life who could raise hell if she took off, so he asked the most important question. “Are you married?”

      “No.”

      He thought of the cowboy she’d flirted with a while ago. “Have you got a brawny boyfriend with a high-voltage ego who’d come after you?”

      “No.”

      “How about other responsibilities? You must have bills here, maybe a mortgage.”

      “No. Free and clear.”

      There was something about her. Her determination impressed him even as it warned him about possible complications down the road. “How will you get by financially if you leave your job?”

      “That needs to be a condition of my training. It’s five weeks?”

      “About that.”

      “You’ll have to pay my board. It’s only fair.” She didn’t even blink.

      Brady raked his hand through his hair. He was beginning to wonder just what this woman might consider “only fair” once the training had begun. But then he pictured Amber Mac, the finest horse he’d ever laid eyes on. Maybe the bet was crazy, but the consequences were real enough. His father was a man of his word and if he said Brady could train the horse if he won this bet, then that’s what would happen.

      He gave Molly a serious head-to-toe appraisal. She stared right back at him. She had guts. Her answers were quick and decisive. She was obviously ambitious and she wasn’t afraid of taking a risk. These were all good qualities in a poker player. Maybe this would work out. All he had to do was set some limits, let her know he was the boss. If she listened and worked hard, he could make her a success at the U.S. Poker Play-offs. After all, the world of high-stakes poker was full of exciting underdog stories and Molly from Cliff’s Diner might be another one.

      She placed her hands on her hips. “I don’t know what you’re thinking about, Brady, but I’ve got to have an answer. My break’s over and there are some hungry cowboys inside who want their lunch.” Never flinching, she added, “I can do this. You won’t be sorry. So what’ll it be?”

      He pulled out a business card for Cross Fox Ranch and handed it to her. “You think about this very carefully. If it doesn’t work and you don’t end up with a nice bankroll, you might want to make sure your uncle will give you your job back. At the end of five weeks, win or lose, it’s over. You’ve got to understand that.”

      She put the card in her pocket. “No problem.”

      He got his hat from the cab, smoothed his hair back and pulled the crown of the felt Wrangler low over his brow. “We’ve got to go. If I see you, I see you. But don’t wait too long. If I don’t do this with you, I’ll be looking for someone else.”

      “Fair enough.”

      He turned to head back around the truck but stopped and allowed himself one more lingering look at her. “You know where I am?”

      “I do.”

      Brady was damn sure it would be the last time he ever saw Molly and, surprisingly, he was feeling bad about that. He got in the truck. Marshall climbed in beside him followed by Dobbs, who gave Molly a thumbs-up. As he pulled out of the parking lot, Brady looked in the side-view mirror. The tires had kicked up a good bit of dust, but he could see her walking back toward the diner, a sway in her hips. “I expect that’s the end of the wager,” he said to the other guys.

      “You’re probably right,” Marshall said. “And it’s for the best I suppose. But it was a fun diversion while it lasted.”

      Dobbs smiled. “You boys don’t know Molly.”

      Clifford Whelan set his spatula next to the hot grill and wiped his hands on his apron. He didn’t like filling in for the diner’s short-order cook, but Jessie had gotten off early to take his daughter to the doctor. Already grumpy, Cliff scowled at his niece. “What do you mean you won’t be in to work tomorrow?”

      “You weren’t listening, Uncle Cliff,” she said. “I told you I might not be in at all after today.”

      “What are you talking about?”

      She pinned a lunch order to the wheel under the warming lights. “I’m taking a long vacation, maybe a permanent one.”

      “You can’t do that. I need you here. You’ve got to give notice.”

      “You’ll be fine,” she said. “Madge’s sister, Junie, wants a job. I’ll tell Madge to have her show up in the morning. June’s a real nice girl, a quick learner.”

      Cliff frowned, picked up the spatula and flipped a row of burgers. “What kind of vacation are you talking about? I’ve never known you to just take off. Where are you going?”

      She sighed. He was right. Molly couldn’t remember ever having a true vacation in all her thirty years. As a child, she’d gone with her father to religious conferences, not much fun for a girl who found rules hard to follow. Her so-called vacations didn’t get much better when she was married to Kevin. Before Sam was born, she’d traipse along with her husband to dusty show arenas and the low-budget motels that catered to rodeo cowboys. Since this trip wasn’t for pleasure, either, she’d definitely given her uncle a false impression of her plans.

      “I’m going south, around San Antonio,” she told him.

      Cliff layered cheese on all the burgers. “Who do you know in San Antone?”

      “I’ve got friends there.”

      He gave her a suspicious glance. “Since when?”

      Since a half hour ago, and I can’t really say they’re friends. “Since I went to community college,” she lied. “They’ve invited me and Sam to come stay a while. I might even get a job there.”

      “What does your daddy have to say about this?”

      “He doesn’t exactly know yet.”

      Cliff blew out a long breath. “Oh, great. I don’t want to be around when he hears this.”

      Molly coughed.

      “He does care about you, Molly.” Cliff smiled. “And he’s awfully fond of Sam. Talks about him all the time. And remember, he took you in when Kevin died.”

      “Of course I remember that—I’ve thanked him at least a hundred times.” Despite having to listen to him rant about what a terrible husband Kevin was.

      “Plus, he’s gotten used to having you run


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