THE BELLA UNION OPENED with considerable fanfare. Crowds were drawn at first by curiosity and no small degree of cynicism. A full-page ad in the Rocky Mountain News declared all games to be “square and aboveboard.” The proprietor offered $10,000 to anyone who could prove otherwise.
Far from an idle boast, Earl made the offer in earnest. Dealers and croupiers were paid top wages, ten dollars a day. Before being hired, they were treated to a lecture on the virtues of fair-and-square. Any man caught cheating, Earl told them, would never deal again. To illustrate the point, he placed his hand on the bar and demonstrated how easily fingers could be squashed with a bungstarter. No one failed to get the message.
The saloon’s interior had been gutted and revamped from scratch. Along one wall, the mahogany bar now stood waxed and polished to a high gloss. The back bar was a glittering array of glasses and mugs, all arranged before a magnificent diamond-dust mirror. The walls were decorated with paintings of voluptuous women, scantily clothed and leaving little to the imagination. Tables and chairs were positioned along the opposite wall, and the hardwood floor gleamed with beeswax. Set in a rear corner was a small stage where musicians and a ballad singer held forth nightly.
Toward the rear, a wall now separated the saloon from the gaming room. A wide entranceway opened onto the twenty-one table, where Monte Verde held court every evening. Immediately behind her were three roulette wheels, chuck-a-luck and dice layouts, four poker tables, and six faro banks. The odds at faro were the most favorable of any form of Western gambling, which accounted for its wide popularity. While other games gave the house a six-point edge, there was less than a 2 percent spread in faro. Betting was made on a layout, with each player attempting to guess the order in which a given card would show. By midevening, men were ganged around the faro banks three and four deep.
Earl was somewhat philosophical about faro. The small house percentage meant a low return, and there were nights when all six banks lost money. Still, apart from Monte Verde, faro was the Bella Union’s biggest draw. Once the banks became crowded, the spillover was quickly diverted to other games. Gamblers, by their very nature, were compelled to wager; denied a spot in one game, they simply moved over to whatever was available. Thus far, the take on any given night ranged upward of a thousand dollars. The house, given the odds, was always a winner.
Afternoons were a time for mundane chores. Earl and Monte shared a suite upstairs, which had been redecorated and lavishly furnished. As their nights were long, they generally slept late and lounged about in the morning. Several housemen, who were quartered in individual rooms, were responsible for opening at noontime. By two o’clock, Earl was invaribly seated at his desk in the downstairs office. Between then and the evening rush, he checked the books and attended to the myriad details of running a gaming parlor. He’d discovered, much to his surprise, that he had a knack for business.
Monte found him there shortly before three. Later, she would change into an evening gown with a peekaboo neckline. But for now she wore a tailored day dress that buttoned demurely to the throat. She put an arm around Earl’s shoulders and gave him a soft peck on the cheek. He muttered something under his breath and went on running figures in an accounting ledger. She stepped back, hands on her hips.
“Aren’t you the lover boy?” she said with a mock pout. “All I get for my trouble is a grunt.”
“C’mon, Monte,” Earl grumbled. “I’m trying to operate a business here. Save it for the boudoir.”
“That’s a joke! All you do lately is fall asleep and snore. I think I liked you better as a gambler.”
Earl looked around, finally smiled. “You’ve got a sharp tongue for such a pretty lady.”
“Humph!” she sniffed. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Buster. It’s action that counts.”
“Tell you what,” Earl said with a slow grin. “Tonight we’ll tie one on. You and me, and a bottle of champagne. How’s that sound?”
“Well . . .” Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “I suppose it’s worth consideration, unless I get a better offer.”
“You let me catch you flirting and I’ll really give you something you won’t forget.”
“Listen, wise guy!” She shook a tiny fist under his nose. “You try any rough stuff and I’ll box your ears good. How d’ya like them apples?”
There was a rap on the door. Earl chuckled as Monte pulled back her fist and assumed a more ladylike stance. He called out and the door opened a crack. Virgil stuck his head inside.
“Not interrupting anything, am I?”
“No,” Earl said quickly. “We were just hashing over some business matters.”
Virgil grinned. “Sounded a little domestic from out here.”
“Come on in,” Earl said, ignoring the gibe. “What brings you to our den of iniquity?”
“Somebody you haven’t seen in a spell.”
Virgil moved through the door, then stepped aside. Behind him, Clint eased into the office with a look of undisguised discomfort. His eyes locked on Earl momentarily and quickly shifted away. He took a halting step forward.
Monte caught the byplay. She saw Earl stiffen, his normal composure sharply rattled. In that instant, she sensed that the man was Earl’s younger brother. The family resemblance was readily apparent, and the tension between them seemed to cloak the room in stillness. She recalled the story of their falling out and the bitterness of their parting. She abruptly decided it was a good time to leave.
“Excuse me,” she said, moving past Virgil. “I just remembered an errand.”
The door closed with a soft click. For a moment, the three brothers were enveloped in a cone of silence. Earl felt as though his eardrums were blocked, and he had to force himself to look in Clint’s direction. At last, Virgil saw that neither of them would make the first move. One was immobilized by lingering guilt and the other was simply rooster-proud. He forcibly took hold of Clint’s arm.
“Don’t be a hardhead,” he ordered. “What’s past is past. Let’s forget the war—start fresh.”
Earl took the lead. He smiled nervously and rose from his chair. Still somewhat uncertain, he extended his hand. Clint dutifully pumped his arm up and down, then let go. Virgil nodded his approval.
“Pardon the sentiment,” he said hoarsely. “But I waited a long time to see that. You boys have done the right thing.”
Earl quickly bobbed his head. “I want you to know something,” he said, staring at Clint. “Not a day’s gone by that I haven’t kicked myself for leaving Missouri. You never thought half as bad of me as I thought of myself.”
Clint averted his eyes. He studied the floor, as though trying to come to grips with something inside himself. Finally, he inclined his head in a faint nod. “Like Virge says, what’s past is past.”
The tension seemed to melt away. Virgil grinned, aware that the younger man had compromised for one of the few times in his life. He smote Clint across the back with brotherly affection and shot Earl a hidden look. Earl took the cue, and smoothly changed the subject.
“Goddamn, Clint, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do. Where you been since the war ended?”
“Drifting around,” Clint said without elaboration. “Looks like you’re doing pretty well for yourself.”
“Hit it lucky, and then some.” Earl paused, struck by a sudden thought. “Say, look here, how’d you like a job?”
“Job?”
“Well, I see you’re packing a gun. So the war couldn’t have changed you a helluva lot. Are you still handy with your fists?”
Clint shrugged. “I generally manage.”
“Come to work for me, then. Hell, I’ll even give you a piece of the action!”
“Doing what, exactly?”
“Lots of money changes hands here,” Earl explained. “I keep a couple of lookouts posted around the place every night. Just in case anybody gets funny ideas.”
“Sort of a combination guard and bouncer. Is that the idea?”
“Yeah, something like that. Only I’d put you in charge of it. Let you take it off my shoulders.”
“Thanks all the same,” Clint said. “Thing is, I’ve got other plans just now.”
“Other plans?” Earl asked. “Here in Denver?”
When Clint hesitated, Virgil took it upon himself to explain. He recounted the search for Jack Quintin and Clint’s determination to kill the former guerrilla. He ended with a forceful expression of his own opinion.
“Damn-fool nonsense,” he said gruffly. “It’s time to get on with living, forget the killing.”
Clint appeared unfazed by the argument. Earl looked at him with a curious expression and slowly nodded. “I tend to side with you. By all rights, the bastard ought to roast in hell. But from a practical standpoint, you haven’t got much chance of finding him. It’s a case of the needle in the haystack.”
“Exactly so!” Virgil added hastily. “For all we know, he could’ve gone to California or Oregon. You could waste the rest of your life traipsing around the West.”
“What’s worse,” Earl chimed in, “he might’ve already got himself killed. From what you told Virge, he travels in pretty rough company. You might end up tracking down a dead man.”
Clint looked from one to the other. His somber resolve turned to a slow smile. “You two sound like a couple of parrots. Anybody would think you’d been rehearsing the same speech.”
“Maybe so,” Virgil countered. “But we’re talking common, ordinary horse sense. And you know damn well it’s a fact.”
“He’s right,” Earl said emphatically. “There comes a time when a man has to take the practical outlook. You’ve got your own life to think about.”
“Well . . . ?” Clint appeared to be wavering.
“Stay here,” Virgil urged him. “We’re all the family we’ve got now, the three of us.”
Clint eyed them in silence for a time. “All right,” he said in a resigned voice. “I suppose I could stick around for a while. Just so you understand it’s temporary.”
“Good enough,” Virgil said, unwilling to push it further. “While you’re thinking things over, why not come to work for me? I was fixing to hire some extra men anyway.”
“I’ve got no head for business.”
“So what?” Virgil declared. “You think Earl and me aren’t still learning the ropes? All it takes is a little get-up-and-go.”
“Guess I’ll pass,” Clint said firmly. “Maybe I’ll have a look around town. See what gets my attention.”
“Denver’s worth a look-see! You’ll never find a likelier place to make your fortune. And as we used to say back home, that’s puredee fact!”
“Like I said, Virge . . . I’ll scout around!”
Virgil wisely let it drop. He was content for the moment that they were all together again, the old wounds healed. A handshake had absolved Earl and brought Clint back into the fold. They were a family once more, the past behind them.
It was enough for now.