Free Chasing Rainbows by Victoria Lynne Page B

lifted-his gaze to Jake, his pink skin turning purple with rage. “That money’s mine, and so’s the woman.”
    “Is that a fact?”
    “Damned right, it is.”
    “Funny, the way I’ve always played the game, four queens beat your puny little straight any day of the week.”
    “You cheated, mister. And everybody here saw you.”
    “You were holding the deck, Connors.”
    The silence was so thick Annie was sure there wasn’t a soul in the room still breathing. While their voices hadn’t been raised, both men kept only their left hands on the table. Their right hands hung low and loose by their sides, ready for a quick draw.
    But Jake wasn’t wearing a gun.
    Jake was equipped with nothing but his moth-eaten red-flannel underwear. The realization struck Annie with chilling, crystal clarity — at the exact moment that Connors shoved back his chair and reached for his Colt.
    Jake shoved back his chair at the same instant… and came to his feet with a gun in his hand — cocked and ready to fire — while Connors was still struggling to bring his Colt into play.
    Connors froze, dropping his gun back in his holster. He blinked in disbelief, obviously trying to mentally grasp both Jake’s speed and the gun that seemed to materialize in his hand out of thin air. “How the hell did you do that?” he gasped.
    Jake tilted his head toward the man who had been sitting next to him. “Borrowed it.”
    Annie’s gaze flew toward the other man, who was studying his holster as though the gun had flown out of it on its own accord. Annie had seen some fast draws in her day, but nothing like that. Jake Moran had moved rattler fast and was obviously every bit as deadly.
    “Not very sporting of you, was that, Connors?” he asked, making a tsking noise with his tongue. “Drawing on an unarmed man. Why, I’m beginning to believe there’s no honor left in this world.”
    “What the hell would you know about honor, you and that little whore of yours—”
    Jake’s gray eyes went black. “You apologize to the lady real pretty like, or I’ll blow your goddamned head off.”
    Connors glared at him in silent, bitter refusal. Jake shrugged. “Hell of a stupid thing to die for, mister, but I reckon that’s your choice.” He lifted his gun and shoved it in Connors’ face.
    Connors went white, then turned a sickly shade of green. “Jesus! No! I’m sorry — lady, I’m sorry!”
    Jake nodded approvingly. “Very good. Now there’s just one more thing.” He paused, smiling. “I want my hat and boots back.”
    “You can have ’em, mister. Just get that gun out of my face.”
    “Well, that’s mighty kind of you. Generous, even. But I intend to pay for them fair and square. Annie,” Jake said, his eyes never leaving Connors, “give the man ten dollars.”
    Annie plucked a bill from the table and shoved it in Connors’ shirt pocket.
    “Now get the hell out of here,” Jake said, pulling back his gun.
    Connors backed away, tripping over tables and chairs in his hurry to get out of the saloon.
    Jake watched him leave. With a satisfied nod, he returned the borrowed gun. “Next time, pal, keep it loaded, will you?”
    The little man who owned the gun gave a nervous, almost hysterical laugh and nodded.
    Annie felt a little hysterical herself. Jake’s gun had been empty the entire time? Her stomach flipped and her knees suddenly went weak. That was crazy. Pure and simply crazy.
    Jake nonchalantly gathered up the money and dumped it in his hat. Then he looked around the room at his stupefied audience. “It’s a sad shame, ain’t it?” he said, shaking his head. “Some folks just take personal offense at losing.”
    A nervous cackle of laughter echoed across the room. The bartender stepped out from behind the bar and looked at Jake approvingly. “You played a straight game, mister,” he announced. “If Connors goes caterwauling to the sheriff, I’ll make sure he gets the story right.” That said, he gestured over his