time.”
“It’s not fair,” said someone in the crowd. “Let him get a little ahead or even go behind again, but you can’t end it this way.”
“Damn right,” agreed Garn, swaying slightly. “And let’s make it interesting. Double or nothing.” He’d been drinking mint juleps all night and his words were a bit slurred.
An excited gasp rose from the spectators. Bascomb looked at Garn to see if he was serious. He was. The dealer and Bascomb conferred in whispers.
Emmalee found her way to Garn’s side. He was painstakingly stacking piles of chips.
“What on earth is the matter with you?” she hissed. Emmalee knew that this was none of her business. She had no right or reason to be angry with him in a personal way. Yet she was.
“What?” he asked. “I’m perfectly fine.”
“No one who’s ‘perfectly fine’ would risk a bet like this. How much money does it amount to, anyway?”
He shrugged. “Somewhere in the neighborhood of nine or nine fifty.”
“Nine hundred and fifty dollars? Oh, my God.”
“No. Nine thousand dollars, or maybe nine thousand and five hundred.”
Emmalee felt herself grow lightheaded.
“I can double it,” he told her. His eyes were shining.
“You could lose it all.”
“If you never take risks, you don’t get ahead. Look, let me give you some money, if that’s what you’re worried about. That silver piece should easily get you as far as St. Joe, but a little extra…” He grabbed a handful of chips and handed them to her. “Just cash these in at the window over there. Bascomb’ll redeem them for you.”
“I don’t want them!” Emmalee flared, pushing his hand away. “You don’t have to take care of me.”
“Hey! But I want to!”
“You can’t even take care of yourself ! Don’t worry about me. I’ll make it on my own!”
He grinned at her. “I like that spirit,” he said. “I like to see that in a gal. But, hell, you’re just a little kid.”
“Well, at least I know not to throw money away!”
“I’m going to double it.”
“You don’t even care !” she accused him.
There in the crowded room, his expression and tone changed. Just for a moment, he looked deeply into her eyes. So intense was his gaze that she was alone with him in a private world of meaning. It was as if the rest of the people no longer existed.
“That’s right,” Garn told Emmalee then. “I don’t care. But there will come a time when I do, and when that time comes, you can bet money, body, and soul that I will not lose whatever it is that I choose to care about.”
“All right, Landar,” Mr. Bascomb called. “Double or nothing, just as you wish.”
The crowd cheered, pushed close to the table, then quieted. Even mighty Brutus, whose disdain for everyone and everything had persisted throughout the evening, strode over to watch the spin of the wheel.
“Let’s see,” said Garn, glancing at Emmalee. “Tonight’s a special occasion. I’m putting all my money on number sixteen.”
“As you wish.” The dealer shrugged, setting the wheel in motion.
The entire casino and everyone in it were caught in a hush. In the distance, foghorns sounded on the river. Outside, the paddlewheel churned and water splashed. And, on the table, the roulette wheel spun and clattered, fast at first, slower, more slowly still, until, notch by notch, the numbers passed, each lingering for what seemed an eternity. Nine. Ten. Eleven. The wheel coming down to the end of its spin now. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. “Come on, come on!” cried Garn, now on his feet. Come on ! prayed Emmalee. She felt as if her heart was slowing like the wheel, as if her heart would surely stop forever when the wheel did. Fifteen. Barely moving, just one more, just one more…
Sixteen !
The crowd let out a wild, exuberant howl.
Emmalee suppressed an impulse to give Garn Landar a congratulatory embrace. He would be insufferable enough as it was.
Click !
“Seventeen,” called the dealer in a