The Honour-Bound Gambler

“I’ve made peace with my looks,” Violet went on rather huffily, “but I still expect common decency from people. Even you! That was thoughtless and unkind. You must know that.”

He hadn’t known that. He’d only been repeating what she’d said herself. Maybe he’d been on this hunt for Whittier for too long. Maybe he was becoming unfit for society. Maybe, with every hand of cards and risky wager, he was losing…everything.

“I’m very sorry.” He was, too. Very rapidly, she was becoming more than a means to restoring his good luck. She was becoming…essential. Carefully, Cade raised his free hand to her slender jaw. He turned her face to his. “I like looking at you. I’ve never known anyone whose emotions were so evident.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a compliment.”

“It is a compliment. From a man who spends all day being as poker-faced as possible.” He smiled. “I find you…fascinating.”

“Truly?” Violet’s lips quirked. Her wide hazel eyes held a challenge. “Can you guess what emotion I’m feeling right now?”

“Suspicion.” Cade stroked her cheek, just once, then made himself let her go. He missed her softness almost immediately. “But you don’t have to be suspicious of me, Miss Benson.”

“Call me Violet. Then perhaps I won’t be.”

That brought a smile to his face. “I’d be honored to do so. And you should call me Cade. Please call me Cade.”

“All right. Cade.” She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Heaven knows, you might be the only man who ever invites such familiarity from me. I guess I might as well enjoy it!”

Again, Cade looked at her sternly. “I can make sure you enjoy it. I can make sure every man in Morrow Creek wants you.”

She 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.

Chapter Four

When Violet heard a decisive knock at the door at precisely fifteen minutes before six o’clock that evening, she felt her heartbeat perk up a notch. Jittery and breathless, she untied her ruffled apron. She hung it on its hook in the kitchen. She smoothed down her skirts, then hastened to the front door.

There, she stopped. Staring at that ordinary white-painted, wooden-framed door, so familiar and yet so unremarkable, Violet couldn’t resist feeling that something momentous was about to occur. For the first time ever, she’d invited a man to dinner. He’d accepted. And now…who knew what might happen.

Fastening a smile on her face, Violet tugged open the door.

The gambler Cade Foster stood on her front porch, with the setting sun and all of Morrow Creek behind him, attired in yet another of his well-designed suits. His dark hair, brushed from his face in waves, framed his features superbly. His white shirt looked crisp. His necktie looked silky. His coat set off his broad-shouldered physique to perfection. He looked…wonderful.

The only thing missing in his appearance was—

A smile. Just as she thought it, Cade gifted her with one. At the sight of it, Violet’s poor heart pitter-pattered twice as energetically. He really was so handsome. And so charming!

Unfortunately, while Violet was savoring the sight of him, Cade was enjoying an equal opportunity to scrutinize her. He sent his gaze roving over her flowing calico skirts, her dress’s high-buttoned bodice, her lace-trimmed shawl…and nodded.

“You look lovely.” He took her hand in greeting. His fingers felt warm over hers—warm and deft and masculine. “That dress brings out the green in your eyes. They’re sparkling.”

“That’s because I’m happy to see you. Please, come in!”

Violet stepped back with a flourish, feeling uncommonly pleased that he’d approved of her ensemble. The oak plank floorboards creaked under her feet; the scent of roast chicken and root vegetables wafted from the kitchen’s cast-iron stove. Expectantly, she clasped her hands, waiting for him to enter.

Cade didn’t move. Instead he gave her a doubtful frown. “I hope it’s all right if there’s one more for dinner.”

From behind him, Cade reached for something. He dragged it forward. At first it looked like a bundle of cast-off clothing. Then it resolved itself into a scrawny child—a boy with wary eyes, sharp features and an overall air of shameful neglect.

“Tobe Larkin, I’d like you to meet Miss Violet Benson,” Cade said. To Violet he added, “Tobe is one of the first people I met in Morrow Creek. I…ran into him on my way here and decided to bring him along.”