By Trade - Ace of Clubs

“Always with the mysterious stranger from nowhere too and somehow he’s the only one who can fix up that town.” Added George tossing in two more chips. It had been a long night. Half drank bottles littered the tables around them, they’re owners gone to their own beds or in the muck outside. A single lantern light danced at their plays waiting with anticipation.
It flickered as George spat his unintended voice across the empty pub. Lewis glared at him but said nothing about it. “Eeyup.” He agreed eyeing his cards a few more seconds before folding. “And he just sort of wonders in one day looking for something. Could name it or not. Either way he only plans to stay one night and move on. But of course the locals have a beef with him in some way.”
Edward, the current dealer, looks down at his hand again; a pair of kings. He raised his gaze ever so slightly through his tinted glasses. The two men across form him babbled on without a clue as Edward tossed in two extra chips. “You two must have a large assortment from the sounds of it.” Edward motioned for the player to his left to go.
She had been quiet the whole game, never made much eye contact, and had at least eight tells or nervous twitches. When she first asked to join, with a heavy looking bag and a large jug in tow, Edward allowed her and made it easy on her to try and coax her to play a little more aggressively. She held her chips too often and folded even when Edward passed her good cards. At first Edward thought she noticed his unique shuffling and was playing him for a fool but he soon discovered she didn’t have any idea what she was doing and just raised and folded at seemingly random intervals.
At this particular play she wrinkled her sleeves a bit before checking. Edward gave her a reassuring smile but she kept her eyes to the table as usual. Edward snorted, turning attention to George’s check. With that the last card was revealed. A King. Prefect.
George chuckled. “More like four or five pulps.” He tossed a few more chips into the pile. He really thought he had a great hand or at the least thought he could bluff the pot into his favor.
Lewis sat back his chair, taking the last sip from his glass. “And we trade them around with a few others. Till we can find some more. Westerns aren’t exactly in high demand out here.” Gulping back the rest. He starred at the ceiling as if lost in thought. “Doesn’t help some of us are kind of picky, like George here.”
“Are not.”
“Are too.”
Edward adjusted his glasses, eyeing his opponent’s hands before tapping his chips. George kept his card out and in front of him to study them every few seconds like he had forgotten what they were only moments ago. This made it easy to read his plays for most of the night and Edward relished in it. However, the jittery female was less then forthcoming this round. She’d keep them on the table face down or held them out like George but this time she had them together, one behind the other. It was mildly frustrating but Edward kept a mental list of recent plays and determined he had nothing to worry about there. To his luck, the stakes were high this time. Playing wouldn’t make or break him, outside of the game, but it would be a sizable amount to have under the belt. He added his chips and played along a little longer. The dame bite her lip, toying with her last few chips between her fingers.
George nudged Lewis, nearly knocking him over. Lewis latched onto the table making the whole thing bounce, along with the glasses nearly toppling over. “Idiot!” he shouted punching George’s shoulder.
Edward hid his smile behind his hand. He even caught a slight grin on their silent player. She was kind of cute. It was too bad Edward had to raise early tomorrow. He let that thought sink in a little before speaking up. “Your turn, gorgeous.” He waved his hand to the pot.
She blushed, making Edward’s heart jump. Yes, it was too bad he had to cut his night short. To his surprise she played her last few chips.  
Lewis whistled, noting the height of the pile. “Glade I ducked out when I did. Think you got this George?”
George seemed a little unsure by this point, rubbing the last of his shoulder’s sting. Edward thought quickly, “I’m not much of reader myself but from what I’m gathering is that all these stories you’ve read tend to have high stakes set against the mysterious hero, be it a band of cut throats or just an out of hand outlaw?” he offered as food for thought.
George chewed over it as Lewis snorted. “Not really a hero per say but yeah that’s the sum of it. What of it?” Lewis began rubbing his chin.
Edward smiled inwardly but kept his face straight and controlled. “Let’s just suppose I were one of those wild gun men, made off with a hefty sum, heck let’s suppose I not only had help but then made off with my partners shares as well. Perhaps leaving them for dead. How quickly would the hero, er, gun man with no name, dispatch me?” Edward asked, eyeing George.
Lewis scratched his head. “Depends. Not long I would figure.” By then George had pushed in his last stack of chips, making Lewis’s eyes widen. Edward knew that look, he caught on much too late. Edward added his share before they all showed hands.
George’s world came crashing down as he spied his pair of twos were beaten by a land slide. Edward licked his lips. “Sorry about that. Better luck next time.” He made a reach for the pot.
Lewis held him back, with a wave. Edward looked down at his pair of Kings, it was better than anything in play, perplex he reevaluated the cards dealt. His jaw dropped as he realized the extra player’s hand turned to a flush with the Ace of Clubs as her second card.
“Wha-how-it can’t-“ he stammered, making Lewis laugh.
The chips slide in the favor of her lucky play. Perhaps it was good he’d decided against her. She wasn’t really all that easy on the eyes anyhow. He stood up from the table with the best look of not frustration he could muster. He pressed his glasses closer to the bridge of his nose. “Regardless. With that gentleman I shall bid you all a good night.” He made his exit with his measly three chips. The lantern wilted and bent as his ugly shadow passed through the threshold.
The innkeeper and a hired hand looked up from their unimportant paperwork. “How was-?” Edward passed the innkeeper the chips before he could finish. They kept their eyes to themselves as the remaining cash was returned. Edward ascended the stairs in controlled stomps that weren’t in anger and with a click of his key, made a point not in slamming the door to his room but instead jammed it in a dignified manner. The point may have been lost in translation but Edward didn’t care.
His ruck sack, antic saber, and assorted papers still littered his bed from earlier. He threw his glasses across the room, shattering them. He ripped his vest and shirt off like that of mad man and splashed his face in some water from the bucket on the radiator. Taking a deep breath he let the moment pass. He reminded himself of the hansom sum of bills that he still had. He played for kicks, that stereotypical high roller that always showed up in towns from time to time, looking for his next fix of high stakes that could make or break him.
The trail was still calling to him, he may have escaped the frying pan but he was still too close to the stove. At first dawn he’d be long gone. No trace of him what so ever. Other than a little bit of local joke for a little while. Lewis and George didn’t seem the types to keep quiet about his sudden uproar. While aggravating, Edward could deal with it. He’d never be back here again anyway.
Kicking off his boots, he made his way to the bed, preparing for a brisk sleep. That was the plan. At the topple of his second boot the door to his room flew open, casting momentary shock. That was all the figure needed to pounce on Edward, sending him across the room. Edward kept his balance, the saber was to his right and he shot for it, swinging the still sheathed blade around to the figure’s face. A hard knock across the jaw sent him spiraling into the hard radiator and a flash of stars bubbling through his vision. Then black.
It’s hard to say when his vision returned or if what he was hearing was real. The stars danced in front of him for a long time and he heard heavy breathing along with something scrapping. He was aware he was moving. He couldn’t move but the pulsing pain along his face made it apparent he was alive and awake to some extent. He lost sight of the stars for some time more and then some muffled voices. The male voice came through first. “…all you could find at the outpost?”
There was a pause for an answer an then the voice continued with a sigh. “It’ll have ta do. I guess.” There was banging and a few clicks before something moaned, a fresh scent of oil and smoke filled Edward’s nose.
Edward coughed and winced at the lightened sky. The stars were fading giving way to a more clear sight. An old winkled man stood over him. “Well looky here. Nice of ya to join us.”
“Wha-?” Edward croaked. “How dare you-you filthy…filthy…!” words were still swimming around in his head, impossible to grasp.
“Filthy?” the man tasted the word on his limps as if for the first time. He was obviously unshaven and could use a bath or two but it still seemed to amuse him. “Says the man who bragged about robbing the Armored Bank over in Poppers Town.”
“I-I never-“ Edward tried to protest.
The geezer held up one of the stacks with the bond still wrapped around it. The seal of the Armored Bank still clearly visible. “I’m sure we’ll get a hefty sum for your capture once we make it to East Town.” The old guy moved out of Edward’s vision. “Lucky for us, you took care of your friends for us.”
Edward felt the bottom of him lurch and begin to bump along. Edward gasped to say something, anything to free him but nothing came to his lips. A shadow fell over him. His eyes widened at the sight of the silent lass from the night before, sitting in front of him. She studied Edward’s bindings for a time before starring directly at him. “I’m very bad at cards. Especially when the cards are marked.” She said smoothly, removing a card from her sleeve. Her arm tattooed with gibberish. “But you’re not the only one with quick fingers.” She flicked the card into the air. It sailed passed Edward, the Ace of Clubs flew into the wind.