The Gambler by Lily Graison Page A

old
man.”
     
    Long minutes passed as the two men stood
glaring at one another and it was the marshal who grinned first.
Tristan laughed and within seconds, the marshal had embraced
Tristan in a hug so tight, his face turned red. There were
whispered words between them before the marshal let him go, holding
him at arms length, while looking him over. He shook his head, the
smile on his face near blinding. “Where the hell have you
been?”
     
    Tristan grinned. “Where haven’t I been would
be a better question.”
     
    The woman who’d been walking with the marshal
cleared her throat and smiled when the marshal turned. He wrapped
his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to where he
stood. Nodding to Tristan with his head, he said, “Abigail, this is
Tristan, my little brother.” She smiled and said a quiet, hello.
“And,” the marshal said to Tristan, “This is my wife, Abigail.”
     
    Tristan laughed and shook his head. “How’d
you get someone to marry you?” He looked at Abigail. “What sort of
lies did he tell you?”
     
    “None that I’m aware of,” she said. “I hope
he knows better.”
     
    They talked amongst themselves for long
minutes, the other townsfolk slowly making their way to them and
before long, it seemed as if the entire town was there, circling
Tristan on the sidewalk and forcing Emmaline back out of the way.
Their things were kicked over, scooted out of the way and the
sidewalk grew so crowded, Emmaline walked a small distance away
while Tristan was welcomed back to town by his friends, and a
brother she wasn’t even aware he had.
     
    She inspected the town as the welcoming
committee grew animated, their voices carrying down the street
alerting everyone that Tristan had returned. Emmaline saw them peek
out the doors of the buildings before making their way to the
stagecoach station to join everyone else. The people in Willow
Creek seemed friendly enough but seeing how small the town actually
was, Emmaline knew she’d never be happy here. She knew no one other
than Tristan and she doubted he'd even stay. He left years ago for
a reason. A reason, she assumed, that would drive him away
again.
     
    Scoffing at her own thoughts, Emmaline turned
her head to look at Tristan again. It made little difference what
she thought of Willow Creek or the people who lived there. She
wouldn’t be staying even if she did find it pleasant. The only
reason she was there now was to get her hands on that land deed,
something she'd yet managed to do.
     
    Seeing their bags where they’d been kicked
into the road, Emmaline gave a quick glance to Tristan before
eyeing the bags again, searching out and finding Tristan’s. She
smiled.
     
    After a week of separate hotel rooms, she was
able to get her hands on that bag and crossed to where they sat,
scooped up both his bag and hers and rounded the stagecoach, out of
sight from everyone. She opened Tristan’s, rummaged through his
clothing and her pulse gave a jolt when she spotted it. It was
lying against the bottom of the bag, hidden beneath his shaving
kit.
     
    Snatching it up, she folded it, looked to see
if anyone was watching her and stuffed the land deed down the front
of her dress before putting Tristan's clothes back into his
bag.
     
    “That’s the second time I’ve caught you going
through my things. What are you looking for, Emmaline?”
     
    Emmaline’s heart leaped to her throat and
stuck. She glanced up and saw Tristan, a look of confusion on his
face. He glanced down at his bag where her hand was still shoved
inside before he looked back at her face. She smiled, removed her
hand and closed the bag. “Well, it should be pretty obvious what
I’m looking for.”
     
    He narrowed his eyes at her. “I don't know
why. From what I saw, it was a useless piece of land.”
     
    That’s what he thought. Emmaline shrugged one
shoulder. “To you, maybe. To me, it’s all I have in the world. Why
would I not want it back?”
     
    The