Read Online Cera's Place by Elizabeth McKenna - Free Book Online
Authors: Elizabeth McKenna
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Cassidy! Yes, yes, my men and I were out for the evening and thought a change of scenery might be good for our luck.” Smiling, Biggs took her hand and bent over it.
As soon as it was polite to, Cera pulled her hand from his grasp and discreetly rubbed it on the back of her skirt. “Well, you are welcome here, of course, but I think you’ll be quickly bored with the limited atmosphere.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Miss Cassidy, I’m happy to win your customers’ money as anyone else’s. Besides, the women here are pretty enough. What do you think, boys, after a couple of hands of Faro should we try our luck with the whores?” Spittle shot from Biggs’ mouth as he laughed.
Cera almost gagged on her own spit imagining these monsters touching any woman—whore or not. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten as it’s been so long since your last visit. The women in this saloon aren’t for hire. If you are looking for that kind of entertainment, you best go somewhere else. I run a reputable saloon.”
Biggs looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time. “Yes, yes, of course, my mistake. I guess we’ll have to control ourselves.” He laughed again, rubbing a hand across his protruding belly.
“I’ll let you get back to your game, then. You’re in good hands with Mary Beth. She’s our best dealer.” Cera forced a smile and walked stiffly to the bar.
For the next half hour, she watched the murderers drink and gamble in her saloon. Every now and then, her hand caressed the gun in her pocket. She imagined the satisfaction of sticking it in Biggs’ ribs and pulling the trigger. Justice would taste sweet.
She felt the energy in the room change before the words were shouted.
“God dammit girl, you must be cheating! I won’t stand for it, I tell you!” Biggs glared at Mary Beth from the opposite end of the Faro table, a cigar stuck between his teeth.
Cera hurried over. “Is there a problem, Mr. Biggs?”
“Yes, Miss Cassidy, there is a problem. We haven’t won one hand yet. Perhaps your dealer isn’t as honest as you think.”
Cera looked at Mary Beth who stood stock-still and unblinking in front of the dealing box. Turning back to Biggs, she replied, “The cards can be so unkind and fickle, I’m sure you are only having a string of bad luck.”
Biggs puffed out his chest, his face turning an unhealthy shade of red. “I don’t think so. In fact, maybe I should ask the police to close down this place. We don’t need dishonest business owners stealing men’s hard-earned money.”
“The police wouldn’t be interested in doing that. Closing my saloon would be like stealing money out of their own pockets. As I suggested earlier, I think you will be happier gambling somewhere else. I’m going to ask you kindly to leave. The next time I ask, I won’t be this courteous.”
Biggs took a step toward Cera and leaned down, his face inches from hers. The foul-smelling cologne he bathed in assaulted her nose. “You think you can talk to me like this? You think you can throw me out of this dump? Is that what you think, Miss Cassidy? Do you know who I am?”
The saloon fell silent as the volume of Biggs’ voice rose. Isaac inched toward the Derringer he had hidden in the piano bench, but stopped when Cera shook her head slightly. Then her eyes widened in panic when Jake drew his Colt and walked toward them.
“Excuse me, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation here with the lady.”
Biggs whirled, reaching for his revolver, but Jake snagged it from the thug’s holster. “Who the hell do you…?”
Biggs stopped when he realized his gun was missing from his side. Jake held two guns, his own as well as Biggs’, and both barrels pointed at the big man’s chest. With hands half raised, he turned back to Cera who had her Derringer leveled at him as well.
Cera’s voice was deadly quiet. “As I said before, I appreciate your business, but it’s best if you leave now.”
Biggs lowered his
As soon as it was polite to, Cera pulled her hand from his grasp and discreetly rubbed it on the back of her skirt. “Well, you are welcome here, of course, but I think you’ll be quickly bored with the limited atmosphere.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Miss Cassidy, I’m happy to win your customers’ money as anyone else’s. Besides, the women here are pretty enough. What do you think, boys, after a couple of hands of Faro should we try our luck with the whores?” Spittle shot from Biggs’ mouth as he laughed.
Cera almost gagged on her own spit imagining these monsters touching any woman—whore or not. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten as it’s been so long since your last visit. The women in this saloon aren’t for hire. If you are looking for that kind of entertainment, you best go somewhere else. I run a reputable saloon.”
Biggs looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time. “Yes, yes, of course, my mistake. I guess we’ll have to control ourselves.” He laughed again, rubbing a hand across his protruding belly.
“I’ll let you get back to your game, then. You’re in good hands with Mary Beth. She’s our best dealer.” Cera forced a smile and walked stiffly to the bar.
For the next half hour, she watched the murderers drink and gamble in her saloon. Every now and then, her hand caressed the gun in her pocket. She imagined the satisfaction of sticking it in Biggs’ ribs and pulling the trigger. Justice would taste sweet.
She felt the energy in the room change before the words were shouted.
“God dammit girl, you must be cheating! I won’t stand for it, I tell you!” Biggs glared at Mary Beth from the opposite end of the Faro table, a cigar stuck between his teeth.
Cera hurried over. “Is there a problem, Mr. Biggs?”
“Yes, Miss Cassidy, there is a problem. We haven’t won one hand yet. Perhaps your dealer isn’t as honest as you think.”
Cera looked at Mary Beth who stood stock-still and unblinking in front of the dealing box. Turning back to Biggs, she replied, “The cards can be so unkind and fickle, I’m sure you are only having a string of bad luck.”
Biggs puffed out his chest, his face turning an unhealthy shade of red. “I don’t think so. In fact, maybe I should ask the police to close down this place. We don’t need dishonest business owners stealing men’s hard-earned money.”
“The police wouldn’t be interested in doing that. Closing my saloon would be like stealing money out of their own pockets. As I suggested earlier, I think you will be happier gambling somewhere else. I’m going to ask you kindly to leave. The next time I ask, I won’t be this courteous.”
Biggs took a step toward Cera and leaned down, his face inches from hers. The foul-smelling cologne he bathed in assaulted her nose. “You think you can talk to me like this? You think you can throw me out of this dump? Is that what you think, Miss Cassidy? Do you know who I am?”
The saloon fell silent as the volume of Biggs’ voice rose. Isaac inched toward the Derringer he had hidden in the piano bench, but stopped when Cera shook her head slightly. Then her eyes widened in panic when Jake drew his Colt and walked toward them.
“Excuse me, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation here with the lady.”
Biggs whirled, reaching for his revolver, but Jake snagged it from the thug’s holster. “Who the hell do you…?”
Biggs stopped when he realized his gun was missing from his side. Jake held two guns, his own as well as Biggs’, and both barrels pointed at the big man’s chest. With hands half raised, he turned back to Cera who had her Derringer leveled at him as well.
Cera’s voice was deadly quiet. “As I said before, I appreciate your business, but it’s best if you leave now.”
Biggs lowered his
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