Welcome back, come on in and pull up a chair. Poor Mr. Clint Hawks has discovered he doesn't have the control over Samantha like he thought. So, like any other red blooded male from 1868 he decides to...
Samantha scraped the rest of her uneaten meal into the fire and threw in a few more pieces of wood to keep it going. Deciding even although he was rude, his advice was probably good to heed following it she stepped out of the cabin and headed for the outhouse.
When she returned, Clint was sitting at the table playing cards. Not knowing what else to do, she pulled out the opposite chair and sat while watching him and trying to get up enough nerve to ask him about the others.
“Black six on the red seven,” she said telling him how she’d play the card.
“What?”he asked, with the un-played cards in his hand and an annoyed look on his face.
“Black six on the red seven. You missed a play.” After seeing the look on his face, Samantha wished she’d remained silent and prepared herself for a snide remark in return.
“Oh, yeah. Thanks.”
“Mr. Hawks, When do think George will get here? I’m getting a little worried.”
“Ain’t nothin’ to worry yourself about ma’am. You’re safe with me.”
“Oh, I know, eh, but still it’s not right. With me being here alone with you that is.”
Clint put the cards down, walked to the door and slid the bar across it, then went to the shelf and reached for the whiskey bottle. Joining her back at the table, he moved the cards toward her.
“You play for a while and I’ll just watch,” he said.
Samantha picked up the cards and began playing. He stood up looking around. Finding what he wanted, he returned with two glasses. He filled one half full and the other he filled with just a splash.
“You know how to play rummy?” he asked, as he swigged half his drink down.
“Yes, okay, let’s play,” she said.
They played for a while before he asked, “So tell me, how did you meet my step, eh, high stepping boss? You ever taste whiskey?” he asked with a challenging sneer before she could answer his first question.
“No, of course not, a lady doesn't indulge in hard drink.”
“The ladies I know do. Your daddy don't think you're woman enough to handle it?”
Before she could answer he asked her another question. “I bet you're never even been allowed to gamble with cards either? I bet your daddy didn't think you were smart enough to do that?”
“I will have you know—sir. I do to know how to bet and I have won a few times. So there.”
“Okay, I bet you're not woman enough to hold your liquor. I win this hand, I get to drink it. You win, you get to drink it.”
She eyed the glass as it only held a splash.
How bad could it be? I always wondered why men
seemed to take to it so much?
The Stepbrothers will go on sale October 17th watch for it.
Thank for stopping by and please do come again.
Oh, before you go, could you be sweet and send a tweet.
If you want to leave a comment I'd love to from you.