“Ante up, boys, time to lose your money!” Terrence practically beamed as he shuffled.

Gee shook his head as he pushed forward a few centimes. He probably shouldn’t have come tonight, but he had promised Reynard and wanted to know how Mutia was doing. Well, a couple of hands wouldn’t hurt and he’d keep his bets low. Maybe five hands, two drinks, one squeeze of Colleen’s buttocks, and he’d head back and get some shut eye before an early start tomorrow.

“You know, some would say that you have too much of an advantage as the house, Terrence.” Reynard flicked his ring finger off an open palm. “You charge enough for the booze as-is!”

Terrence Hepburn’s belly jiggled as he guffawed. “And yet you’re all still here every Mercredi. You can’t accuse me of being a poor host at least, cassoulet’s a’ comin’ and it’s free so long as you all keep drinking. Though if you lose enough… Je ne mettrai pas de sel sur tes plaies. I’ll let you have your drinks free too.”

The table sarcastically applauded and the first cards were dealt. Gee looked down at his hand and forced himself to remain stoic. Three sevens peered up at him along with a valet of clovers and a four of hearts. A quick glance around the table didn’t reveal much. Perhaps it was too soon to start looking for tells, especially when the first round of betting hadn’t even finished. Reynard raised by five centimes. Dockett called. Should he bait the others into folding early and try for a bigger first pot?

“Call.” Not this early, he decided.

His words were repeated by Terrence. “Call.”

Reynard swapped out two cards. Dockett one. Gee slid the four across the table and received a two of diamonds in return. Ah well, no flush this hand. A three of a kind was still quite good. Terrance set three of his own cards down and replaced them. Most likely had a pair at best then, may as well raise when it came around to him again.

“Check.”

“Raise two cetimes.”

It looked like Dockett had something decent since he wasn’t the best bluffer. Probably best to play it safe.

“Call.”

Terrence clicked his tongue. “I’m out. Reynard?”

Reynard flopped his cards at Terrence with a wave and a shake of his head. Just Dockett and Gee left.

“Check.”

“Check.”

“Alright, show us what you got.” As first dealer Terrence led the reveal.

Gee’s eyes grew wide as he stared at the straight flush that Dockett lay on the table. A frown grew on his face and he pointed a glare without heat at the old farmer as he spat out a curse. “Putain, yt'as le cul bordé de nouilles! This is just the first hand!”

As he scooped the centimes towards himself, Dockett smiled. “You must have used everything up saving the girl today.”

“You heard about that?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if half the town has by now.”

“Where’d you hear it from?”

“Wife who heard it from Colombe.”

Gee shook his head. “All I did was take some blankets to get washed. How the hell did she figure it all out from there?”

“Ah, for once I can actually answer that.” Dockett gave a sage nod as he watched Reynard riffle and deal the cards. “She spotted fur on the blankets, but not of a color of anyone in your… ah, your mother’s household. Couple that with mud and the fact that Lady Meredith got the most spectacular sale today for a newcomer…”

“Ah. Makes sense when you put it that way. Call.” Pair of threes might be okay.

“Hah! I’ll be honest, asked the wife the same thing and that’s what she told me.”

Nothing good came from the swap. Gee was still stuck with threes, but Dockett had folded and the other two had only called. If he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t the best bluffer either so best just see how it all played out.

“Read ‘em and weep, boys.” Reynard drew a sad finger down his cheek that was at odds with the grin on his face. With an eight high two pair beating out Terrence’s seven high, Reynard was now in second place.

Dockett was passed the deck and Terrence spoke up. “Rumor has it the girl’s a Gitane.”

“Don’t think so, it sounded like it had just been her and her mother.” Gee took the dealt cards. “No idea how long she’s been alone, but it sounded like her mother is recently passed.”

“Call. Poor girl. Good of the Missus to take her in.”

Gee hummed in a noncommittal fashion as he thumbed three for swap.

Reynard set his cards down momentarily to press a hand to the side of his head. “She fell asleep almost immediately once we got her in bed.” Two fists were then splayed open before his chest. “I can only imagine how exhausted she must have been. Raise three.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Raise two.” Terrence picked up his pipe and began chewing on its stem. “I can only imagine. If I were a betting man I’d wager a franc that life in the woods with only two would have been more than a little rough.” He chuckled at his own joke.

Dockett mucked his cards and leaned forward to light the pipe before pulling out his own. “Oh please. We all know how you got the seed money to build this place to begin with.”

Terrence eyes took on a sparkly gleam as he sighed out his first puff. “Aaaah, thank you. What can I say? I know a good racer when I see one.”

“Call.” It was very unlikely anyone could beat Gee’s full house. “Did she say anything else about how she came to be alone in the woods, Reynard?”

“Nope. I’m sure Maitresse Stickupherass will hound her for the details later. Hah, no pun intended. Call.”

Gee snorted. “You know she’d probably flay you alive if she heard you call her that.”

“What’s she gonna do? I am majordome of the household and have served your family faithfully for twenty-five years.” Reynard flashed the “L” shape and five fingers haughtily. “I’m pretty certain I technically outrank the old brown-nosing fox anyway. Pun most definitely intended this time.” Reynard’s tail beat the sides of his chair as he chuffed through the “okay” circle he twisted around his nose.

The hands were revealed as Gee’s win and he was nineteen centimes richer than when he walked in. At least for now. Now that he had a bit of a buffer, he could play with a bit less restraint. “Looks like the day’s luck hasn’t been entirely used up yet, Dockett.”

“Sure, sure. Just you wait, whippersnapper.”

The rest of the evening flowed by, lubricated by beers and bean stew. Gee lost several hands, and won several more. As the headiness of the alcohol settled into his system, Gee’s mind began to wander as the conversation turned to how their respective trades were going. There was something he was forgetting, but anytime he thought he had a grasp on the idea it slipped away from him.

“I’m telling you, old man, moles are vermin. They tunnel beneath my fields, destroy my roots, and eat without stopping. And don’t get me started on those foul, evil little faces!” Dockett’s words had begun to slur and the cherry-faced man waved his arms wildly. “Little bastards are eating my livelihood!”

Reynard was not in much better shape and some of his words came out jumbled. “You’ve had too much water to drink. Just because the moles got missed in the uplift here doesn’t mean they got missed everywhere. Talk like that around the wrong people and - “ He paused to hiccup. “It’ll be your march.” Two hands pointed downwards and bobbed.

“Water? My march?”

“Alcohol.” The previously open-cupped hand now had a few fingers pulled in. “Funeral.” Two “V”’s bobbed up and down.

“Look who’s talking about having had too much, you’re mixing up your signs! Terrence, cut him off!”

Terrence waved at Colleen as she left for the evening. “Sorry boys, looks like you’re all cut off. The serveuse has left the building and I’m thinking it’s about time to call it quits. Unlike some of you, I have to get up early to get bread for the day.”

“You’re jush shaying that becaush you’re ahead!” Dockett had begun to slur even worse than before.

His mind feeling as soggy as Mutia had looked earlier in the day, Gee scrambled around his head mentally looking for the thing that he had forgotten. Did he bank the coals before leaving? Yes. Had he forgotten something at the manor? No, he had barely even gone inside let alone put anything down besides the parcels he had been carrying. The beer and beans sloshed about in his stomach, mimicking the sensation he felt in his brain as he turned idly in his chair.

“Please. The lad’s taken us all to the cleaners tonight as if the heavens decided he needed a reward beyond mere gratitude.” Terrence’s words were amused as he took in the sight of the evening’s winner slowly getting lower and lower in the barstool. “You’ve all been fed, watered, and entertained enough for the evening. Now git before your wives raise hell about me in Court tomorrow!”

Grumbles emanated from the motley crew in time with chairs that scraped upon the wooden floorboards and final clanks of tankards drained of their last drops. Gee, still lost in his thoughts, was hoisted up by Terrence and deposited into Reynard’s wobbly arms. The soft fur that tickled at his arms and the horrific stench of Reynard’s breath broke him out of his reverie.

“My gods, Renny, you smell awful!”

No signed response was given, but the old retriever huffed directly into Gee’s face. It was as if he had breathed in the rotted remains of a distillery that had been left to fester for a decade; nearly enough to sober him up right then and there. Gee staggered back, gagging and nearly tripping over a nearby table.

“Oh, so now you’re too good for Renny’s hugs?” Reynard crossed his arms about his chest as he took on a mockingly hurt look. “I remember when you couldn’t get enough of them. I carried you for practically half your childhood, young man!”

They continued to gripe at each other in a playful fashion until Terrence threatened them all with a broom. As they bid their final goodbyes to each other, Dockett was given a sloppy handshake, and Terrence the coin owed for the evening’s repast. Reynard accompanied Gee until the crossroads that led out of town. The cool air did wonders for their sobriety, and the softly falling snowflakes reflected the moonlight and lanterns that lined the street.

“Go on, Renny. What’s on your mind? I know what those ears mean.”

Reynard hesitated for another moment, staring up at the flakes that somehow all missed his upturned nose. “I’m sorry that I have to be the one to tell you this, Gee.” One closed fist rubbed at his chest.

Gee waited.

“Your father should have been the one. I’m just a poor surrogate.”

Gee watched their breaths mingle in the winter air and continued to wait.

“I am… so, damned proud of the man you have become.” Tears fell freely from the old dog’s face as he dragged a thumb up his chest. “We all had our doubts at first when you left, you know. Even me. But I’ve watched you trek these woods, respect the trees, love the people, and today, save a life. I cannot help but think now that you are where you were always supposed to be, and we were blind to not see it.” Two fingers tapped on either side of his nose. “I’m so proud of you, son.”

The hug that Gee swept Reynard into was enough to pop several vertebrae and make the Laurent Majordome cough in surprise. He ignored the whiffs he got from his surrogate father’s snout and squeezed and squeezed as if to press all of the love in his heart through his chest.

“Thank you, Renny.”

“You’re welcome. Now ease up a bit, you’re much bigger than you used to be.”

Gee did so, but remained clasped in their hug for another long moment before they mutually separated. Reynard gave him a silent pat on his shoulder, then departed upwards towards the manor. Gee whistled a few bars of some song that he couldn’t quite remember as he made his way home. It was only after he had remade the fire, settled down in his bed, and had nearly drifted off to sleep that he remembered what had been bothering him half the evening.

“Dammit, my fishing rod is still out there.”