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‘I’m here to ruin my reputation, Cade,’ she announced firmly. ‘With you.’
Stunned by that scandalous notion, Cade couldn’t speak.
But Violet didn’t seem to mind.
‘I’m here to make some thrilling memories,’ she went on, ‘and maybe change my future while I’m at it. And we’ve already wasted a great deal of time, so…’ perkily, she smiled ‘… shall we get started?’
AUTHOR NOTE
Thank you for reading THE HONOUR-BOUND GAMBLER! I’m so happy to share this story with you. I always fall in love with all my characters while writing about them, and Cade and Violet were no exception. They quickly found a special place in my heart—as did Tobe, Reverend Benson, Adeline, Judah…and even that mysterious rascal Simon Blackhouse!
If you enjoyed this story (and I hope you did!), please try another book in my Morrow Creek series. It includes MAIL-ORDER GROOM, THE BRIDE RAFFLE, and several others (including some short stories), all set in and around my favourite Old West town.
You can learn about all my books at my website: www.lisaplumley.com. While you’re there you can also download a complete book list, sign up for new-book alerts, read sneak previews of forthcoming books, request special reader freebies, and more. I hope you’ll stop by today!
Also, as always, I’d love to hear from you! You can send an e-mail to [email protected], ‘friend’ me on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/pages/LisaPlumley/164790176872702, follow me on Twitter@LisaPlumley, or write to me c/o PO Box 7105, Chandler, AZ 85246-7105, USA.
About the Author
When she found herself living in modern-day Arizona Territory, LISA PLUMLEY decided to take advantage of it—by immersing herself in the state’s fascinating history, visiting ghost towns and historical sites, and finding inspiration in the desert and mountains surrounding her. It didn’t take long before she got busy creating light-hearted romances like this one, featuring strong-willed women, ruggedly intelligent men, and the unexpected situations that bring them together.
When she’s not writing, Lisa loves to spend time with her husband and two children, travelling, hiking, watching classic movies, reading, and defending her trivia-game championship. She enjoys hearing from readers, and invites you to contact her via e-mail at [email protected], or visit her website at www.lisaplumley.com
Previous novels by the same author:
THE DRIFTER
THE MATCHMAKER* THE SCOUNDREL* THE RASCAL* MARRIAGE AT MORROW CREEK* (part of Halloween Temptations anthology) MAIL-ORDER GROOM* THE BRIDE RAFFLE* SOMETHING BORROWED, SOMETHING TRUE (part of Weddings Under a Western Sky anthology) *Morrow Creek mini-series
And in Mills & Boon Historical Undone! eBooks:
WANTON IN THE WEST
Did you know that some of these novels are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk
The Honour-Bound Gambler
Lisa Plumley
To John, with all my love,
now and forever.
Chapter One
Morrow Creek, northern Arizona Territory October 1884
“A gambler is nothing but a man who makes his living out of hope.”
—William Bolitho
From the moment he saw the boy, dirty faced and shabbily dressed, Cade Foster knew he was in trouble. Darting a glance at the middling horse, wagon and foot traffic surrounding him in the territorial backwater he’d arrived at this afternoon, Cade frowned. He stepped sideways, intent on making a detour.
The little sharper moved in the same direction. “Wanna try your luck, mister? I got me a nickel says I’m luckier than you.”
Unhappily distracted, Cade glanced down at the coin the boy brandished. It looked cleaner than all the rest of the urchin combined. From his grimy fingernails to his shabby shirt, the boy looked powerfully worse for wear. Unfortunately, he also looked a little like Judah. Maybe that’s why Cade stopped.
The boy grinned, revealing a smile that jabbed at Cade’s heart like a sterling-silver knuckle-duster. “Ain’t nothing finer than a fast game of craps, sir.” The boy, probably twelve years of age or a little more, extracted a pair of dice from his trouser pocket. With élan he shook them in his scrawny fist. “How ’bout we toss ’em over yonder, where it’s quiet?”
He nodded toward the nearest alleyway. Hesitating, Cade squinted up the main street toward the two-story brick house that was his destination. All Morrow Creek’s movers and shakers were expected to be at the benefit being held there tonight, during which the Territorial Benevolent Association Grand Fair would raise funds for a new public lending library.
“You got yer roulette, el Sapo, rondo, rouge et noir, faro, and vingt-et-un—” the boy rattled off the names of those popular games of chance the way most youngsters recited their ABCs “—but for a fast win and real excitement nothin’ beats craps, sir.”
Transferring his gaze to the child again, Cade noted the boy’s hollow cheeks and the dark smudges below his eyes. He saw the way the pint-size “sporting man” hunched his skinny shoulders against the autumn chill. He assessed the boy’s nimble movements even as he listened to more of the imp’s patter.
“If you roll those bones as ably as you talk,” Cade interrupted, “I’d be a fool to strike a wager with you.”
“You’d be a fool not to, you mean. It’s just a nickel.”
To a boy like that, a nickel was the difference between eating and going to bed hungry. Cade knew that more than most.
He also knew, with another proficient glance, that the dice the youngster jiggled were likely a pair of dispatchers—so named because they effectively “dispatched” their intended targets: suckers. Like all gambling men, Cade recognized the tools of a cheat. There was no other way to assure himself a square game.
Not that he ever expected to actually get one. Cade reckoned that every game he went up against was crooked one way or another. But if he ever wanted to find Whittier, he had to follow the gambling circuit. Tonight, at least a few of its members would be scouting for prospects—and showing off—at the Grand Fair. Once Cade made his way up the street to that big brick house, he’d have to do his best to impress them.
Winning was the only way to progress up the circuit—to make it to the high-stakes tables where men like Whittier wagered.
Not that throwing dice with this youngster would help Cade do that. He should have tried harder to go around him—regardless of the boy’s resemblance to Judah. Now it was too late.
When