Without even turning to face the man, peach raised her shot to him. He closed the distance with his small glass. As soon as she heard the clink, Peach slammed her shot against the bartop before quickly choking down the warm whiskey. Unsurprisingly the man mimicked her exactly, even to the point where they were both hissing through their teeth trying to expel the burn.
Peach raised her glass and finished off the rest of her drink before pulling her new one close to her. She traced her gloved finger around the rim. Her thoughts were starting to become blurred but her instincts were not. She could feel the stranger next to her, watching her.
"You're not even going to thank me?" he asked sipping from his drink. His body never turned away from Peach.
"and what exactly should I be thanking you for?" she asked. Behind the bar, and behind the shelves of opened liquor was a mirror. Peach stared at her own green eyes being reflected at her. Beside her was the man's unwavering reflection. His shaggy dark hair and his burning blue eyes. He met her gaze in the reflection. His eyes were burning into hers even more now as if the mirror had doubled their effectiveness.
"I don't know, maybe for saving you from that drunken asshole."
She could see his smirk in the mirror. That was enough. She dragged her eyes from their reflection and turned to face the man himself. Looking at him now, the proximity between them she could make out a small scar cutting into his top lip. It was barely noticeable underneath the sprouts of dark hair shadowing under his nose and across his jaw.
"I've dealt with many drunken assholes, toothless there would have been no different." His eyes were so bright they were burning. Peach slid her stool away from the bar, and took a moment to readjust her skirts. God, she hated how big this skirt was.
She grabbed her drink from the bar and raised it slightly to the man, "now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to return to the card table."
The man tsked, and she noticed as well. The dealer was busy becoming "acquainted" with one of the bar girls against the side of the piano. As any dutiful musician would, the pianist never ceased playing even with the newly formed couple trying to shove him off the bench.
So much for stripping this place bare. She could always sneak in later and crack the safe behind the bar, but spending that extra time in Rosewood might just kill her if she wasn't caught first. The man still seated at the bar thumped against the bar table. She turned to see a deck of cards in his calloused fingers.
"If you want to play so badly," he split the deck and shuffled them back together, "then I'll play with you."
Peach clenched the glass in her hand tightly. She shifted her eyes over the man. Hanging over his worn cowhide chaps was a green satchel similar to hers in every way. Even in the fact that it was dangling heavily, full of money.
"Fine," Peach sighed. She hopped back on her stool, keeping her eyes away from his pouch of money. She could never help the excitement that would bubble up in her chest.
"What are we playing then?"
The man was busy shuffling the cards against the bar, careful to avoid any puddles of alcohol. "The ante is a quarter, followed by one betting round. The highest card wins."
"We're betting a quarter on a game of high card?" Peach shook her head incredulously. The man dealt her a single card face down. The look in his eyes told her not to peek at it. Not that she would anyway, no real gambler, would ever touch their cards until the dealing was done.
"There's a little more to Indian Poker." He grinned. His teeth were white and bright. He whistled as he jabbed his thumb into the space between them. He dug a quarter out of his satchel and plopped it down between them. He watched her until she did the same. The pot was at 50 cents.
"Alright now, without peeking, lift the card to your forehead, suit facing me, and will place our bets."
Peach eyed him warily. She liked to think of herself as a connoisseur of all card games, but this one she had never heard of. Perhaps it was his way to trick her out of her money. He looked at her as if he could read what she was thinking.
"I promise, there are no tricks, as long as luck's on your side, you'll do fine."
Peach laughed a little and smiled to herself, "Very well then."
The man nodded three small times before telling her to lift her card. The game was on now, and she wouldn't allow her face to be so easy to decipher now. Above his dark bushy brows, the man held the two hearts. Inside, Peach was jumping for joy. Of course, luck would be on her side, it always was. Her heart skipped as she noticed the man studying not the card held to her forehead but the expression she stuck on her face. He was carefully reading every flutter of her eyelashes, every twitch of her soft pink lips.
She understood now. This game wasn't really about the card your opponent held. It was about trying to figure out your own, based on your opponent's reactions. Even then it was a card game, and he held up the lowest in the deck.
He nodded to her, telling her it was her turn to place a bet. She didn't want to give too much away with the size of her gamble, but she couldn't turn down a sure win either. She slid a dollar into the pot. He watched her hand slide across the bar. Tracing up her satin glove until his eyes met hers again. Blue burning into the green.
"I'll call," he smirked sliding his dollar on top of hers, "time for the reveal."
Peach pulled the card from sticking slightly to her forehead. She flipped it over in her fingers. She could reveal her shock now, as she stared at the two diamonds facing back at her.
"I guess we got a pair." the man said laughing a little to himself, "Since we pushed, we'll go double or nothing."
Peach rubbed the card between her fingers. She couldn't stand losing, she never could, especially not in a card game. Sure she was bound to lose a few hands, but at the end of the night, she would always be victorious. She breathed out a heavy sigh.
"Double or nothing," She said haughtily, as she slid another dollar and quarter into the growing pot.
-----------
Their game went on for hours. To give him credit, the man was a much worthier opponent than the normal bar swill that she played against. Even then, though, by the time he called it quits, Peach's pouch was much heavier than it had been, and his was now much emptier.
"I should get going," the man said trying to rise from the bar. He fell back slightly catching himself by his elbow on the edge of the countertop. Gambling wasn't the only sin they'd been partaking of all night. Peach couldn't ignore the strong woodsy smell of whiskey clinging to the both of them.
It was the alcohol, yeah the alcohol, that made Peach jump up to assist him. It was also the alcohol forming the words that were flowing from Peach's lips.
"I'd be happy to escort you out." She tucked her head down to hide the red hue warming her cheeks. The man raised an eyebrow. After tugging on his money satchel to make sure it was secure he nodded. Peach rolled her eyes. She could have cut that satchel from his waist and slipped away with it before he even noticed it was gone. But she wouldn't. This man had been her gambling partner tonight. He'd played fair, and he'd lost fair. There was no need to take his pride and the last remaining coins to his name.
The man slung his heavy arm over her shoulders, causing Peach to wobble on the heels of her boots. He was tall, but she hadn't expected him to have this much muscle. Stabilizing her feet, she and the man hobbled out of the bar together. Two drunken gamblers.
Hitched to the post in the front was a heavy-set white stallion. He nickered as he saw Peach push through the swinging saloon doors. She smiled at her ever-loyal companion. Beside him was a small blond mare with a white mane and tail. A beautiful palomino.
"I guess this is where our paths must stop." Peach said breathing heavily under his weight. The muddy Mainstreet was slowly being illuminated but the soft rising sun. Fog hung in the air, clinging to Peach's hair, and chilling her skin. The man hesitated for a moment before deciding to stand up on his own two feet. He leaned against the hitching post for support. His dark hair was damp from the dew. His blue eyes were bright even in the dim morning.
Peach's stallion, Icarus pinned his ears back against his head as the man leaned up so close to where he was hitched. His hoof made a sloshing sound as he pawed, agitated, into the black mud.
The man slid down the hitching post a little, putting as much distance between him and the angry stud.
"Sorry, Icarus, isn't a fan of men." Peach said stepping closer to the aggravated horse.
"Sounds like his owner," the man laughed to himself.
Peach couldn't help but smile a little. She reached down the front of her skirt and went to work undoing the fasteners that held the front of the skirt together. The man watched curiously, maybe hoping for a little strip show. Peach pulled back the split skirt so that it now hung behind her, revealing long legs in tight leather britches and calf-high boots.
She pulled at Icarus' reins tied to the post and the knot easily fell out. She threw the reins over his thick neck, giving him an extra pat as she checked to make sure everything was okay. She retightened the saddle's girth, and carefully tucked her fancy woman costume, her fan gloves, and velvet money pouch into her saddlebags.
The man still slumped against the hitching post watched her every move. Once she was sure everything was in place, she pulled her black leather hat from the saddlebags. She slipped it on her head as she pulled herself into the saddle. God, knows she'd need something to block the sunlight from her eyes once her drunk started to wear off in a few hours.
She pulled back on Icarus' reins to keep him from galloping off down the Mainstreet. She looked down at the man, her gambling partner, from underneath the brim of her hat.
"Before I go," She squeezed the reins tightly in her hands, "at least tell me your name."
For the first time since they'd come outside, perhaps for the first time all night, he turned away from her. He contemplated the idea for a few long moments. Long enough, it had begun to annoy Peach. Finally, he spit out the all important identifying information.
"My name's Levi Andrade."
Peach pulled back hard on her reins.