What did Harrison expect of him? Nothing Herbert said seemed to move him. Nothing seemed to prompt his own apologies for having forced this lifestyle change on Herbert and his family. Instead, Harrison sat there looking quite unconvinced.
“I’m glad you are finally starting to understand,” Harrison said, putting the paper aside and getting to his feet. “I’m off to bed. My train is tomorrow, and I still want to write a letter to Susanna. I’ll see you in the morning. Make sure you’re here early just as we discussed.”
“I . . . ah . . . who will watch the front desk tonight?”
“I will,” Harrison replied. “There doesn’t seem to be any other choice, does there?”
“Well . . . I could stay.” A thought suddenly came to him. “I could stay here and send Gary to the house to keep his mother safe.” Herbert smiled. Surely this would impress his brother. “That way you can get a good night’s sleep and be ready for your trip.”
“That’s decent of you. Thank you. I’ll retire to Susanna’s room, then. Good night.”
Herbert wanted to say something—anything—to stop his brother from leaving, but he remained silent. He had made clear his acceptance of his mistakes. Why couldn’t Harrison in turn absolve him and return him to his rightful place? How long did he intend to leave Herbert and his family here in this hideous excuse of a town? He’d even made this grandiose gesture, and Harrison still seemed unimpressed.
With Harrison off to bed, Herbert at least felt free of his accusing stare. The constant expression on Harrison’s face was disapproval, and Herbert could bear it no more. Perhaps the answer was to continue with the card games. He’d been able to win a nice amount on several occasions.
“How’s it going, Father?” Gary asked, coming in for the night. He hung up his hat and jacket just inside the room, then sat down to pull off his boots.
“Wait!” Herbert smiled. “What about going with me to play a game of cards?”
“I’ve been playing pool all evening, and I’m tired. Dawn will come soon enough, and I’ll be expected at work.” He frowned. “Besides, do you have any money to play?”
“I have a little, and that’s all I’ll need. Come join me. We don’t have to be long at it, but Harrison has taken up all my time today, and I need to put him from my mind. A game or two of cards will be just the trick.”
Gary looked at his father and shook his head. “You don’t need me to play, and I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
“Look, I know things haven’t been right between us. Harrison and I had a good talk tonight, and I’m starting to see all the mistakes I’ve made. I want things to be better between us, son.” He was quickly forgetting all about his offer to watch over the hotel tonight.
Gary sighed. “I suppose a couple of games will be all right, but no more. I don’t want the night to get away from me, and I refuse to lose all my pay just so you can have a companion.”
“You won’t lose, Gary. You almost always win.” Herbert gathered his hat and coat as Gary got to his feet to reclaim his.
“What about the hotel?”
“Harrison’s here. Besides, we’ll lock the front door. No one will be coming for a room.”
An hour later, Herbert looked at what little money he had left. He had been so certain of that last hand, but instead, one of the other regulars pulled a straight and dashed Herbert’s hopes of a big kill. Now he had another really great hand—a sure winner. He contemplated what he could do. He needed more money. He looked at Gary, who was folding.
“Gary, can I borrow ten . . . no, twenty dollars?” he asked, leaning close to his son.
“No.” Gary looked at him like he’d lost his mind.
Why did everyone always have to be so judgmental? Gary. Susanna. Harrison. They all thought so lowly of him. Why couldn’t they be supportive?
“Well, Ragsdale? You gonna call?”
Herbert looked at his resources. He didn’t have enough to call. Maybe they’d take an I.O.U. But what could he place under lien? He owned nothing of worth. Gladys had a few pieces of jewelry left, but most were paste and not the expensive gemstones she thought them to be.
“Ragsdale?” The dealer gave him a hard look.
“I’m trying to think. I don’t have the cash and was considering an I.O.U.” There, he’d said it. Now he’d see what their reactions might be.
“What do you have that’s worth anything?” the dealer asked.
“I . . . well, I was just thinking . . .”
“He has a house,” one of the men declared. “A nice little place.”
“You have a house?” the dealer asked, his hard look softening. He smiled. “Of course we’d take an I.O.U. on the house.”
Gary poked his father in the ribs. “You can’t do that. Think of the risk.”
Herbert leaned in close to Gary. “But I have a good hand.”
“But it’s not your house,” Gary replied in a whisper.
The words hit Herbert like a slap in the face. He stared at his son for several seconds.
Gary got up, shaking his head. “I would think having done this once before would teach you a lesson. I’m out of here.”
A sick feeling bubbled up in Herbert’s stomach. He knew he had little choice. He threw his cards facedown on the table. “Too steep for my blood. I fold.”
The men grumbled and called him a chicken and other names, but Herbert followed his son out of the saloon like a whipped pup. How could he have honestly considered putting a lien on Susanna’s house? He truly was as much of a fool as they all thought him to be. He was no good. No good at anything. He’d stolen from Susanna once before and he’d been ready to do it again . . . and all because he was certain he could make a killing on his cards.
“I’m glad you came to your senses,” Gary said. His tone betrayed his disgust.
“I don’t know what got into me.” Herbert felt overcome with guilt. “I don’t know what ever gets into me. I feel certain I have the upper hand on a thing, only to lose it all.”
They reached the hotel and went inside as quietly as possible. Thankfully, there was no sign of Harrison having learned of his deception.
Herbert breathed a sigh of relief. He’d been concerned that Harrison might have gotten up and come to check on him, but there was no sign of his brother.
In the family living quarters, Gary quickly rid himself of his hat, coat, and boots and headed for his room. He paused at the door. “Don’t ask me to play cards with you ever again. I am deeply ashamed of what you nearly did. You aren’t to be trusted.”
“But I didn’t do it, Gary. Isn’t that a good thing?” Herbert asked, hoping to smooth things over with his son.
Gary shook his head. “I wouldn’t have let you do it. I would have told them the truth, and then they would have beat you to a pulp.” He left his father staring after him in surprise.
Herbert didn’t move for several moments. No one understood him or cared. No one. Gladys had only married him for his money, and over the years they had learned to tolerate each other and accommodate each other’s needs, but not out of love. Without money in his pocket, Gladys would no doubt find a way to walk away from him. She would suddenly remember a cousin somewhere who needed her or arrange to respite in some distant sanitarium.