His cornerman was babbling away while he toweled him down, but Robert wasn't really listening. Yeah he was dripping with sweat but that first round had pretty much gone like he had hoped. He had attacked and put his opponent on the back foot immediately. He had also scored a few jabs into the guy's ribcage and midsection, those that weren't blocked by Charlie's arms. No real damage but then he hadn't expected that to happen. It was all part of a tactic. One that would hopefully yield good results this second round.
Oh yeah, the deputy had hit him once or twice but Robert shrugged it off easily enough. He'd been hit far worse before. Just before the triangle was rung, he took a last sip of water (he would have preferred liquor) and then it was round two!
Robert went right for the guy again, crossing the ring and attacking. A few more low jabs and lunges to the body and sure enough Charlie was getting the hang of it to block those better but it was leaving him open to a head shot as more and more he lowered his fists. That of course was the tactic.
Robert suddenly faked a left jab and instead stepped forward with a right cross right to the side of his opponent's face. It connected and it was a solid hit. Perhaps as much in surprise as actual damage, Charlie stepped back and lost his balance. Down he went as the crowd roared (or gasped if they were partisans of the deputy pugilist).
To the young man's credit he bounced right back up though, resuming his boxing stance. At least Robert realized the guy could take some punishment, he wasn't one of those glass jaw fighters who wilted at first hard hit. The referee hadn't even needed to start a ten count.
No matter, Robert closed in again, shrugging off a well delivered counterpunch by Charlie only to land a solid punch to the nose in return. Blood trickled from one nostril now though Robert highly doubted the cartilage was broken. Actually in Robert's first fight he had suffered a broken nose which he popped back into place between rounds, hurt like hell too. This was not a sport for the faint of heart.
Nothing much happened the rest of the round and the triangle clang ended it then as both combatants once more retreated to their corners.
"Er, would you fellers mind awfully standing to attention?"
"Oh excuse me, hon,"
Joseph gazed down at the beautiful blonde: like any excuse was necessary! "We never finalised our bet!" he smiled.
"Well, I guess we got a minute before the next round? So back to our conversation. Lemme make it quick. If you wanna take me out for dinner, just go ahead and ask me. Yer a gentleman and I'm a lady so why does it need involve some sort of wagering?" she got down to business quickly.
The solder tipped his head. This girl liked straight talking. She could have it.
"All right. You're beautiful. Can I take you out to dinner?" he asked, bluntly enough. She didn't know his name, he didn't know hers. He didn't need to. In the words of the Bard, a rose would smell as sweet by any other name. After telling him to ask her, he half expected her to say "no", and laugh in his face. Arabella's voice screamed deafeningly nearby "Get up Charlie, get up! What ya doin' down there on the floor?!! Well at least bite the varmint's ankles while you're down there!!" but he didn't break his gaze into Caroline's mysterious blue eyes.
I took an oath for this job. The oath says bring him in. That's what I'll do.
The end of the second round didn't come quick enough for Charlie. He had managed to hold his own and so it was a bit of a relief to hear the triangle. Cullen was good and he was a professional, there was no way he was going to win this. The last thing he wanted was to get beaten to a pulp and that's what would happen if he stayed in this fight for much longer. It was better to be sore for a few days then to spend a few weeks in bed.
While Mike loosening up the muscles around his shoulders and upper arm, Charlie turned him and whispered, "The next time I go down I'm staying down."
Mike nodded. Having seen Charlie go down after that punch, Mike had already started to think about how to end this before the twenty rounds was over. It was important that Charlie didn't lose face or he would never succeed as deputy. Going down without sustaining a major injury was the only way out. He looked over to Sam, who had been close enough to hear what Charlie had said, back to his younger brother again and whispered, "We'll take care of it...just make sure it looks good."
Satisfied that his brothers had understood, Charlie stood a little taller, took a deep breath and waited for triangle to go off again.
Guess he understood her much more direct approach now, no need to beat around the bush with her, Caroline smiled.
"Alright. You're beautiful. Can I take you out to dinner?" he came right out with it.
She had already decided she would indeed accept this dinner invitation but her playful nature was not going to make it quite that easy.
"Well, lieutenant, I never go out to dinner with a man whose name I do not even know," she suddenly announced in a deadpan.
"Oh my name is Caroline Mundee....I'm the singer at the saloon. Fair warning, that makes me dirt in the eyes of many proper folk in this leafy burg," she added.
"Er, would you fellers mind awfully standing to attention?"
"Well, lieutenant, I never go out to dinner with a man whose name I do not even know," she suddenly announced in a deadpan.
He clicked his heels in a sort of Teutonic salute. "Joseph Wilberforce Greene, Junior... of the Vermont Greenes, of course. At your service, M'am." he said equally earnestly. "And to whom do I have the pleasure of presenting myself?"
"Oh my name is Caroline Mundee....I'm the singer at the saloon. Fair warning, that makes me dirt in the eyes of many proper folk in this leafy burg," she added.
"Ha! They think that's low?" he laughed with bitterness "They've clearly never met a 2nd Lieutenant who's the only officer in his posting who didn't serve in the war and has just had the signal honor of being transferred to Signal Corps duty: raising and lowering little party balloons into the sky twice a day." he sighed. "Why, Miss Mundee, I positively dream of being raised one day to heights of respectability enjoyed by saloon singers!"
"Oh the fight's starting again!" he said suddenly. Hector Wigfall was dinging his triangle.
Caroline laughed, "Well, that name is quite a mouthful, lieutenant. I hope it is alright with you if I just settle for calling you Joseph or Joe?"
"As for me, none of this Miss Mundee nonsense, call me Caroline," she added, "I think it is a beautiful name, do you not?"
Well, the young man certainly did not have an inflated opinion of himself when he explained his duties, or lack of, at the fort. She dealt with plenty of customers at the saloon who loved to try and impress her with their tales of self importance, most of which were probably exaggerations or even outright lies.
"So then dinner it is. Have you been to the local eatery? Their bakery goods are simply delicious. Doubt they serve a five course meal or champagne though. We will just have to endure a common meal," she quipped.
But then, as Joseph pointed out, the fight was about to resume as both boxers approached each other. The details of their dinner date would have to wait.
"Er, would you fellers mind awfully standing to attention?"
Caroline laughed, "Well, that name is quite a mouthful, lieutenant. I hope it is alright with you if I just settle for calling you Joseph or Joe?"
"Joe's plenty all right with me, Miss Mundee." he grinned a ready smile.
"As for me, none of this Miss Mundee nonsense, call me Caroline," she added, "I think it is a beautiful name, do you not?"
His eyes played over her coquettish features. "Very beautiful" he sighed in agreement.
"So then dinner it is. Have you been to the local eatery? Their bakery goods are simply delicious. Doubt they serve a five course meal or champagne though. We will just have to endure a common meal," she quipped.
"Pie and coffee at the diner? For the beautifully-named Caroline?" Lt. Greene shook his head. "I hope you'll allow me to escort you to the Belle-St. Regis Hotel Restaurant, where all meals are at least ten courses long, the champagne flows like the Flathead River at Columbia Falls, and the Maître d' looks down his nose at rich and poor alike with equal scorn!" he declared.
His eyes narrowed as he tried to remember one last fact. "Come to think of it, they might even have a fellow there who tortures a cello, just for the further edification of the diners." Well, surely, that put the icing on the cake!
The fight was on, and so was the date.
"Pie and coffee at the diner? For the beautifully-named Caroline?" Lt. Greene shook his head.
"I'm sure they got beefsteak and such too," she added, no alcohol though.
"I hope you'll allow me to escort you to the Belle-St. Regis Hotel Restaurant, where all meals are at least ten courses long, the champagne flows like the Flathead River at Columbia Falls, and the Maître d' looks down his nose at rich and poor alike with equal scorn!" he declared.
"Oh yeah?" she raised one eyebrow, he was ambitious, that would cost a pretty penny.
"Come to think of it, they might even have a fellow there who tortures a cello, just for the further edification of the diners," he threw that in, not that Caroline knew much about cello sounds, that wasn't her kind of music.
"Well, I don't know, hon. I'm not sure I'd be welcome in such a fancy place considering my background. Did you forget that I just said there are a lot of the good citizenry in this town who don't like me and my kind much?"
The fight had recommenced then so Caroline turned her attention on the two handsome young brawlers. She could hear Ara hollering from the hayloft for her chosen favorite, the young deputy. As for Caroline, she didn't much care who won.
The triangle signaled the start of this, the third round, Robert left his corner and headed straight for his opponent. He well realized that Crabbe wanted him to drag this fight out but he had never agreed to such a thing. Besides, the longer it went on the greater the chance the other man might connect with a good punch and land it just right. And Robert could lose. He wanted this money too badly to take such a chance, no it was better to try and finish the other guy off here and now.
Robert had been delivering most of the blows but to Charlie's credit, he was taking the punishment and hanging in there. He'd even managed to tag Robert with a few decent punches. Not bad at all for an untrained novice.
Robert attacked, yet again. He feinted left and went in with a right jab, Charlie just blocked it. Then the Irishman tried for an uppercut with his left but the other pugilist stepped back just in time. Undaunted Robert moved in fast to get either past or under Charlie's defenses. The town deputy landed a good punch to Robert's side of the head but Robert took it and now countered with a one two punch of right, left jabs to the head.
And down went Charlie, more because he backed up too fast and lost his footing than any hard contact Robert figured. But the guy was on the floor so Robert paused to let the referee start the countdown.
A shout from the crowd went up as Charlie Wentworth went down and, above it all, Arabella' voice screaming "Get up Charlie, Get up!! You was just winnin'!!!" This hubbub even caught Lorenzo Crabbe's attention and he looked up to see what was going on. He checked his watch. Hmm, the fight hadn't lasted quite as long as he had hoped. Maybe the young deputy would stagger back to his feet, but as the man doing the refereeing counted him out, that seemed increasingly like a longshot.
Crabbe pushed though the crowd and hustled a blue-uniformed army officer out of the way. "Excuse me, Commodore, I need to speak to this little lady!"
He whispered to Caroline urgently.
"Hey, Mundee, help me out will ya? I told that Cullen to hold back, but he's bloodthirsty, he's knocked that deputy out in record time and this mob's going to get ugly, feel they've been cheated, half of 'em'll be demanding their money back." The idea of that made him feel sick, especially after he'd spent the whole of the fight counting it out several times.
"Listen, I'll get Hector to break out his fiddle again, and Muddy to come on down off that ladder with her gee-tar and you get up there and sing 'em a song, while we scrape Wentworth off of the canvas." he suggested "And make it a long song! That'll hold 'em!"