A Long Walk to Red Ridge

"Wait!" cried Big Bill Oarman. "I can make you rich, fast, but not if I'm dead!"

Slim Kasance, called "Jerky" by anyone on his bad side, kept the revolver pointed at Big Bill, and added to it a suspicious squint. "Buster, you're slipperier than an eel in axel grease. Ol' Slim hates a card shark, and you ain't nothing but a poker-faced thief!"

"Exactly!" insisted Big Bill. "Look, you shoot me now, you ain't never seeing that cash again. It's paying for the room, a bladder full of beers, and, well, Becky, here." He nodded to the terrified lump of bedding shuddering by the much-abused headboard. "But if you let me in on another game, I can double your money in no time flat. Hell, with the right buy in, I could make you a millionaire!"

Jerky Slim pulled back the hammer on his revolver. "You're putting me on."

The trembling blanket began to blossom, revealing wide brown eyes beneath a disheveled upsweep of bottle blond hair. "I know a game," Becky ventured. "He can make your money back, mister, honest, he can. There's a game for high rollers at the Lovejoy ranch."

Hesitating, Jerky Slim said, "Lovejoy? As in thoroughbreds?"

Becky nodded, but wouldn't lower the blanket any more, not for free. "Garrison Lovejoy runs a high-stakes card game. There's always a fortune on the table."

"And I can gift wrap it for you!" Big Bill insisted. "You've seen me play--"

"Cheat."

"Creatively interpret the rules," Bill decided. "I'm much more valuable to you alive. And you can shoot me if I lose."

Becky made a small sound in her throat. Jerky Slim glanced at her, turned his eyes to Big Bill, and decided to save a bullet. "Alright," he said, easing off the hammer. "You bought yourself another day, partner. Get your pants on while I see to the horses."

Big Bill did as he was told, but Becky grabbed his arm the minute Slim left the room. "Don't worry, darlin'," Bill said, kissing the top of her head. "I know you don't do refunds."

"Shut up and listen to me!" Becky hissed. "That is Gary's game, you hear? He has to win!"

His heart dropping into a bucket of ice water, Big Bill said, "But I can't lose."

* * *

A blue haze of cigar smoke hung in the air. Big Bill had been escorted, courtesy of Jerky Slim, to the Lovejoy Star Stallion Ranch, and Slim had provided Bill's fifty-dollar buy in. Big Bill smiled and nodded to the others around the table, noting that the chair of honor was not yet full.

"Gary's finishing his dinner," explained Harry Castleman. These days, he trained racers for the Lovejoys, but when the nation was split, he'd trained war horses. Just one of his wide red hands could smack the wool off a buffalo, and there was a six-shooter on his hip.

"He won't be long," said Joshua Stonefeather. He ran perimeter security for the Lovejoys, and had slung a double-barreled shotgun over the back of his chair when he sat down. It was rumored that his trophy room had remains from every species in North America. Every species.

"He may be a little while," said Madame de la Mesa. "It is his birthday." Madame de la Mesa was Becky's employer, and arranged stud rights for the Lovejoys' retired racers. The Madame had been married at least five times, picking husbands out of the classifieds, all of their whereabouts currently unknown.

Big Bill tapped his fingers on the table. Jerky Slim was taking a tour of the stables, and there was a limited window of opportunity for Bill to get his fellow gamblers on his side. In spite of Becky's warning, though, Big Bill thought he could take these suckers, and the spoiled rotten birthday boy to boot. "Generous of young Garrison to let me join in the celebrations."

The Madame smiled at him, a streak of lipstick on her teeth. "Not at all. Gary loves making new friends."

"Has to," said Joshua Stonefeather. "They don't always last."

Harry Castleman split and shuffled the deck. "Ever played Red Ridge Rules?"

Leaning back in his chair, Big Bill said, "Now, I have never played Red Ridge Rules, but a sweet little birdie told me that this is Gary Lovejoy's game, and he has to win."

Harry nodded. "That's the gist of it." He split the deck four ways, flipped up top aces, shuffled, split, flipped up four deuces, dropped the deck in an underhand grip and bottom-dealt five hands. "You'll pick up the rest as we play."

* * *

Jerky Slim Kasance was having a grand old time. He was happy to rub elbows with the likes of the Lovejoys, happy to have a little insight in the thoroughbred business, and more than happy to have someone like Big Bill Oarman in his hip pocket. For all his high talk, Jerky Slim was himself an accomplished cheat, and knew how good Big Bill had to be to outfox fellow foxes. After touring, with interest, the Lovejoy whiskey still, Jerky Slim was looking forward to briefly checking on the seamless victory that would carry him, in luxury, all the way to California.

"What do you mean, you need more money?" Slim hissed.

"That's not what I said!" Big Bill glanced over his shoulder at the card table. "I said I'm a hand away from dropping out. Please, do not give me any more money."

Jerky Slim peered around Big Bill's shoulder. The swollen kitty was softly calling to Slim in a silent, but seductive language, and no one at the table looked half as worthy. "You are not dropping out," said Jerky Slim, counting out an extra twenty dollars. "I have a marked deck."

"Slim, no!" Big Bill insisted, shrinking away from the money like it was dipped in dysentery. "Look, it...it's Gary's birthday--"

"I don't care!" Jerky Slim sized up the spoiled Lovejoy heir. Wearing a ten-gallon hat without a speck of dust on it, a shirt made from imported silk, and a punchable grin, the big dope looked like he'd never gotten on a horse without a butler giving him a leg up. The others at the table turned their sycophantic smiles toward him, and Jerky Slim knew how little it took to pop that inflated of an ego. If Gary Lovejoy wanted a memorable birthday, then Slim would teach him a lesson he'd never forget.

"Listen to me," said Jerky Slim, moving his thumb to reveal the top left corner of his deck. It was red bicycle backed, printed fresh from Ohio, and anyone west of Russel, Morgan & Co had an identical pattern. "There's a hole punch code. Kings are one punch, two for queens, three for jacks, four for aces. You'll be able to read everyone's hands."

"I don't want to do this!" Big Bill pleaded. "Another game. Any other game--" Jerky Slim put a hand on his revolver. "You're not the only one with a gun in here."

Jerky Slim nodded. "In here. And if you drop out now, me and you are going outside." He smiled tightly at Big Bill's hopeless expression. "The way you play, with a deck like this, you can't lose. And just to be sure, I'm watching. Watch this."

Shoving money into Bill's unresisting hand, Jerky Slim made his way around the table, sly grin pointed at Harry Castleman. "You got yourself a fine stable, mister! I saw that big beauty out back, and Ol' Slim loves a barrel racer."

Harry snorted and nodded to Gary Lovejoy. "Don't make as much as the fast tracks, but you know folks love to see the jumping. More 'n more settlers come out, young Gary thinks we can open up a Wild West show."

"With shooting!" said Gary Lovejoy, turning up his hands with the pointers out like little pistols. "We can get one of them ladies that shoots upside-down!"

"Uh-huh." Jerky Slim wasn't really paying attention, leaning his hand on the table. "Folks like a show."

"I tried shooting upside-down," Gary intimated. "It's hard! And my hat fell off."

Joshua Stonefeather nodded sagely. "And now, you have a strap."

Brightening at this, Gary held up the braided leather. "I have a strap!"

Big Bill looked over at Jerky Slim. Completely oblivious to the conversation, Slim had managed to slide one deck of cards off the table, and produce another from the sleeve of his shirt. Slim knocked a few cards off the top of the deck, and Harry seized them protectively, letting Jerky Slim apologize and back off from the table. Big Bill had an excellent poker face, and didn't give his worry away, but a shadow passed over Harry's face as he shuffled the cards, a second of doubt quickly eclipsed by a fresh cigar. "Ante up or amble on, fellas. And lady."

"I'm in," said the Madame, adding a wink to the kitty. "You boys'd be surprised what a professional lady can do upside-down."

Joshua Stonefeather laughed, and Big Bill did, too, although there was no joy in it. Gary Lovejoy laughed, but with the slightly unfocused expression of one who understood the rhythm of a joke, but not the punchline. "Let's play Red Ridge Rules!"

"You got it, partner," said Harry, dealing out hands. "It is your birthday."

Jerky Slim busied himself over at the side board, helping himself to another finger from the Lovejoy still. He could see that four of the five players knew the game: their hands were held flat against their chests, or kept flat on the table, one peek spared before they focused on their opponents. Gary Lovejoy, on the other hand, was studying the cards like the riddle of the Sphynx, his tongue sticking out in concentration, one eye almost closed in the effort of his squint. Reaching up to scratch under his hat, Gary settled on a strategy, looked up brightly, and said, "Ready?"

The four heavy hitters started swapping out cards, trading from the deck in twos and threes, Harry Castleman's hand on the shoe. With marked cards, Jerky Slim could see Joshua Stonefeather giving up a king and some other card, indicating he could have a three of a kind, but a low one. There was one ace in Madame de la Mesa's hand, and the rest could be bupkis, while Harry's palm was big enough to completely conceal his cards from view. Big Bill's cards, face down on the table, had the corresponding dots of two jacks and two queens.

Gary Lovejoy hadn't discarded yet. He sent a furtive glance around the table, then dropped two cards, holding the other three in front of his nose. Harry traded him two aces, and Gary added them to his hand, completely forgetting to guard against eye lines, so Jerky Slim could see clearly, he had a pair of aces and nothing else. Gary said, "Raise!"

It was not his turn, and no one had placed an opening bet, but nobody questioned it when Gary dropped ten dollars in the pot. Jerky Slim looked over at Big Bill, but he, like everyone else at the table, had a carefully neutral expression. Harry, to Gary's left, said, "I'll see you, bud," and popped in another ten bucks.

"Me too, sweetie," said Madame de la Mesa, throwing another ten dollars in. The money on the table was making Jerky Slim's palms itch, and he helped himself to another drink.

Joshua Stonefeather, probably with the best hand at the table, spent some time considering his options before he said, "I'll fold."

Jerky Slim could have kissed him. Now, it was almost sure Big Bill had the best hand, and no employee obligation to the Lovejoy estate. With the kid clearly out of his depth, and the other players counting on him to lead the play, Big Bill should be able to goad and cajole, teasing up the pot until he could walk away loaded. Knowing the way Big Bill played, Slim was shocked when he simply said, "Fair deuce, bud," and added ten dollars of Slim's money to the pot.

Gary said, "Raise!" and popped in twenty.

Whiskey sloshed and jumped in the glass that slammed down next to Big Bill's hand. "He's a wily one," said Jerky Slim, shoving a crumpled fistful of dollars on Bill. "Don't do anything stupid."

Big Bill looked around the table. Meeting the other unreadable expressions, Bill swallowed and said, "I don't know, Slim. Young Gary Lovejoy might be the best card player in the west."

Gary Lovejoy grinned, cards face-up horizontal in one hand, while the other played with the strap of his hat. "The best in the west."

While his eyes bulged in disbelief, Jerky Slim did not see the other faces at the table. He did not see the approving smiles, the knowing nods, or the shifting weight of Joshua Stonefeather's chair. All he saw was a descending amber haze of whiskey and rage, as Big Bill, well away from his turn, pushed his cards back and said, "I fold."

"Like hell!" Jerky Slim swiped a hand across the table, cards flying over the pot. "You had two pair, he's got nothing, and you know it! You all can suck up to this rich prick, but don't you do it on my dime!"

"Watch yourself, son," Harry said, bulging arms tucked tight across his massive chest.

The Madame reached across the table to pat Gary's hand. "Don't listen to him, dearie, he's just had a little nip."

"You're out of your goddamned minds!" Jerky Slim shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at Gary Lovejoy. "This fool don't know shit about poker!"

There was a crestfallen expression on Garrison Lovejoy's young face. The birthday boy loosened his strap, and removed his hat, soft hands folding over the brim. Beyond his smooth brow and golden hair, there was a disfiguring ridge of tight red skin stretched over a divot where the rest of his skull should be, part of a horseshoe still wedged deep into the bone. Over a quivering lip, Gary mumbled, "I thought I was doing good."

Big Bill reached over and put a hand on Gary's arm. "You did great, young buck," he said. "Ol' Slim here just don't know Red Ridge Rules."

There was a heavy metal click, and Jerky Slim felt both barrels of a shotgun pressed against his spine. "That's right," said Joshua Stonefeather. "Come, let me educate you."

Harry stood up and cracked his knuckles. "Thought I never dealt with a marked deck?"

Madame de la Mesa pulled a switchblade from her garter. "It's a long walk to Red Ridge, dearie."

Jerky Slim Kasance had time for one helpless backward glance before he was bundled out of the game room, never to be seen or heard from again.

Big Bill was left alone with Gary Lovejoy, and the card shark offered the injured heir a friendly grin. "Don't pay sore losers no mind, son. You got plenty friends handing you their wallets, and having a fine time doing it."

Gary smiled a little, and scratched the tight skin next to the horseshoe. "Thanks, Mr. Bill. I think I'm tired of playing." He stood up, hat dangling from his hand. "It was nice of you to come to my birthday."

"Sure thing, pal," Big Bill said. "I hope I'm at the next one."

Dragging his feet through the game room door, Gary said, "Hope I am, too." He put on his hat, and closed the door behind him.

Leaving Big Bill Oarman alone with the pot.