The Honour-Bound Gambler. Lisa Plumley
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arched her brow at his certainty, seeming more than a little bit doubtful. “You’re not a detective, a marshal or a lawman.” Her smile turned playful. “You’re a miracle worker!” He’d had enough. “The real tragedy in life isn’t failing to believe that hope exists, Violet. It’s convincing yourself that you don’t want any hope, even when it’s right in front of you.”
“Are you talking about me? Or about you?”
Cade snorted. “I’m talking about the likelihood of your choosing from among a dozen smitten suitors if you help me.”
“You mean if I behave as your lucky charm?”
A nod. “Once everyone sees us together, people will look at you with new eyes. They’ll wonder why I want you—why I’m captivated with you. They’ll imagine…all manner of things.”
She inhaled again, steadying herself. “Good things?”
The lilt of hopefulness in her voice was heartrending.
“Good things,” Cade affirmed, feeling touched by her beyond all reason. He didn’t know why he wanted to help her—why he wanted to erase her wrongheaded notion that she was undesirable and unnoticed. He only knew that he did. “Everyone wants what they can’t have. Especially men. I know more about human nature than I want to, after all these years of wagering, and I know that’s true. Let me show you, Violet. Let’s strike a deal.”
Hesitating, she bit her lip. “Who will know about this?”
“As far as your friends and neighbors are concerned, I’ll be courting you,” Cade swore, taking her hand. “That’s all.”
A glance. “But really I’ll be bringing you good luck.”
She was smart, he realized. And much less naive than he’d thought. That made Cade feel better about this whole endeavor.
“Yes,” he said. “You’ll be bringing me good luck.” He offered her a winning smile—one he knew was persuasive. “But hopefully that good luck will be shared by us both.”
“You know,” she mused, giving him another of her patented, too-observant looks, “I think you’re an optimist at heart.”
“I think you’ve only just met me,” Cade disagreed, “and it shows.”
Her smile touched him, suddenly mysterious. “Well, you’d better find some optimism, then. Because I can only do this if my father agrees. That means you’ll have to impress him at dinner tonight and obtain his blessing. Will I see you at six?”
Sunnily and capably, Violet gave him the particulars.
Dumbstruck at the realization that he’d have to impress a straitlaced minister to put his good-luck-charm plan in motion, Cade hesitated. Then he nodded. The minute he did so, Violet Benson jumped up from her bench, briskly said goodbye, then left him alone while she returned to her charitable good works.
That was twice she’d left him stranded, Cade realized as he watched her leave. The first time, on the Grand Fair dance floor, he’d purposely allowed her to do so. The second time…
Well, the second time, just now, he hadn’t. Damnation. Was it possible that an innocent small-town girl had outmaneuvered him?
Worse, was it possible that a reformer had outfoxed him?
No. He was worldly, intelligent and determined. No one could outwit him. Except maybe Percy Whittier. And even then only a few times.
But the man wasn’t a god, and he wasn’t infallible. He was only irredeemable. With a little more effort, Cade knew he would find him. Then he would get the answers he needed.
The answers he’d promised Judah.
In the meantime, Cade had a few more hours to spend before dinnertime at the Benson household. That was just enough time, he reckoned, to write to his brother, beat Blackhouse at cards a few more times…and strategize how best to turn Violet Benson into an irresistible temptress, all before Cade left town in the next week or two.
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