Chapter One
Colorado, late 1870s
Michael Flynn reached across the table and grabbed Eli Banning’s wrist. “Let’s see yer cards first.”
Banning shook free of Flynn’s hold and flipped his hand over. “Royal flush.”
Flynn felt the bottom drop out of his stomach and his head start to spin as the card sharp grabbed the pile of money in the middle of the table and greedily pulled it toward him.
“You ought to watch that temper of yours, Flynn.”
Anger gave way to desperation as the realization hit home that he’d lost it all on the turn of a card. “Ye can’t have won—there’s no way!”
Banning’s face lost all expression. “The cards don’t lie.”
“Aye,” Flynn agreed, pushing to his feet. “But ye do!”
The look in Banning’s eyes should have warned Flynn that this wasn’t the end of it. But Flynn couldn’t breathe—he needed air! His heart in his throat, his guts churning, he bolted for the door. Outside, he bent in half, taking great gulps of air, trying to catch his breath and clear his head.
Stumbling down the wooden walkway, he wondered how he could have been so stupid as to bet his hard-earned savings—his passage home to Meg and their stake in their future together—against a card sharp like Eli Banning.
“Because yer an eedjit—plain and simple, Flynn.”
Trying to sort out the horror of his situation, he couldn’t think, didn’t know what to do. A whisper of sound from behind him was the only warning he had. It was too dark to see, but not to hear. Half a heartbeat later, the eerie sound of a pistol being cocked, had him searching for cover, but it was too late. The shot rang out as an answering fire seared through his shoulder.
Flynn’s last thought as he dropped to his knees was that the Lord had a fine sense of humor
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