Texas Bluff

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If anyone was wilder than Luke, it was Jake with his leather jacket and motorcycle. For him to make such a statement about Rachel’s Down syndrome baby was a revelation in itself.

“Man, I can relate to that.” Brady popped the top on his beer. “I didn’t think I could love another man’s kid so much, but Sammy feels like my own. Of course, I’m pretty crazy about his mom, too.”

All his friends had found their soul mates and Luke wondered if he’d be the only one in limbo. The only one unable to move forward.

He wasn’t sure he was still in love with Becky. But he knew without a doubt that to move forward he had to put the past behind him. So far he’d been unable to do so. That was his struggle and it drove him every day.

“I hope you guys don’t mind,” Harold said, plopping into a chair, “but I invited someone to join us.”

Jake shuffled the cards. “We’re not partial to whose money we take, are we, boys?”

“Nah,” Cole replied, taking a seat. “Who is it?”

“Guy does my taxes. You boys probably know him.”

“Who—” Before the rest of the sentence left Luke’s throat, the door opened and Danny Howard stood there. Becky’s ex, and the last person Luke wanted to see or have at the poker table.

The room became painfully quiet. Luke could actually hear the gush of the Medina River outside. Or was it the rush of blood in his veins?

Four pairs of eyes stared at him, waiting for his reaction.

He and Brady were the only two standing. Brady leaned over and whispered, “What do you want to do?”

“Nothing,” he whispered back, and walked over to Danny and held out his hand. “Hi, Danny, I don’t believe I’ve seen you since high school.”

Since you stole my girl. Since you mademy life a living hell.

“Yeah. It’s been a long time, Luke.” Danny gestured toward the table. “Hope you don’t mind my stopping by.”

“Of course not. This is River Bluff and all friends are welcome.”

You low-down bastard.

Luke passed by Brady on his way to a chair. “Stay cool,” Brady murmured under his breath.

Jake’s eyes caught his, as did Cole’s, both saying the same thing. He wasn’t sure what his friends thought he was going to do. Evidently they thought he was as wild and crazy as he ever was. But there was something about being shot out of the air like a clay pigeon that changed a man forever. Of course, he used jokes and ribbing to hide those scars.

But he was mature enough to handle a game of poker with Danny Howard. Now he had to prove it.

“Tournament play, no limit and a fifty-dollar buy in, boys,” Jake said. “Let’s see some money.”

Each player slapped money onto the table and collected their chips.

Jake, the host, gathered the cards and shuffled them, dealing each player two hole cards. The betting started to Jake’s left and they settled in to play Texas Hold ’Em. After a round of betting, Hap and Ron were left playing the hand.

Hap called Ron’s bet.

Jake laid three cards, the flop, face up on the table.

Studying the cards, Ron made a thumping sound with his chips on the table. After a moment he placed a bet.

Hap raised it.

“Call,” Ron said.

Jake dealt the fourth card, the turn card.

Hap took his time, twirling a chip between his fingers. He had the perfect poker face, no emotion whatsoever. Suddenly he mucked his cards.

“Hot damn,” Ron yelled. “I knew you didn’t have a damn thing.” He guzzled his beer.

The evening wore on, with a lot of cursing and a lot of yelling, mostly from Ron. The man could not hold his liquor and by the fourth hand he was out. As were Harold, Cole and Hap.

Jake shuffled the next hand and dealt the hole cards. By the end of the betting, it was Danny, Ed and Brady in the hand.