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think what might happen.
    One night of gambling had taught her she was no professional cardplayer. She’d never lacked for courage, unless she was dealing with her brother—or the aftermath of one of his problems. Then, as always, she turned into a first-class wimp—except for tonight, when she’d shored up her courage, let Cat remake her into some femme fatale, and come to the casino to gamble. And she’d pulled it off, until the last hand. A real prowould have faced down Montana and claimed his boat. A real pro wouldn’t have let one kiss turn her into a woman running for her life. But she wasn’t a real pro, and after that kiss she wasn’t about to take a chance on another.
    If the look on Montana’s face staring down at her from the upper deck didn’t tell her she’d been wise to leave when she did, the thudding of her heart was the clincher.
    “You drive, Cat. I’ll wreck us for sure.”
    Moments later Katie realized how really rattled she was. Cat was the worst driver in the history of Louisiana. She only knew two speeds, faster than a speeding bullet and dead stop.
Dead
. That might be the word of choice, Katie decided as her daredevil friend took the corners on two wheels, leaving the river and the
Scarlet Lady
behind in the wake of their dramatic exit.
    “Slow down, Cat!” she yelled. “We got away.”
    A few blocks later Cat pulled the car over, took her foot off the gas, and looked at Katie. “All right, girlfriend. Now tell me, who did we get away from?”
    “Didn’t you see him?”
    “You mean the devil in the black frock coat who was yelling at you? Who was he?”
    “Rhett Butler Montana.”
    Cat let out a disbelieving laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding. Montana. Rhett Butler Montana. Who was his mother, a Southern belle or a cowgirl wannabe?”
    “I don’t know. But she named him right. He’s … well, he’s certainly straight off a western-movie set.”
    “Am I to understand he’s the bad guy and we just got out of Dodge?”
    “Pretty much.”
    Cat gave her a long, serious look. “One question, Miss Kitty, did you cheat?”
    Katie’s eyes widened. “Me? Cheat? Have you ever, in your entire life, known me to cheat?”
    “Silly me. Of course not, Miss Go-by-the-Rules Carithers,” Cat admitted. “But you’ve got a blind spot a mile wide as far as your brother Carson is concerned, and I’m never positive you won’t do something really dumb to rescue him.”
    “I’m not rescuing him this time, Cat. I’m saving Carithers’ Chance. The plantation has been in my family since before the War Between the States.”
    “Well, I do declare. ’Course you are. What I want to know is what your low-down, no-good brother is doing to help? The one who put up his share of the plantation to cover his gambling debts.”
    Katie took a deep breath. “I … I’m not quite sure. When I left he said he was going to get in touch with a friend, something about one last possibility of making things right. He really regrets his gambling, Cat. He just got desperate.”
    Cat took Katie’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry, Katie. I don’t mean to make light of your problem, but Carson just makes me so mad. You’re the one with the steel-trap mind. You’re the one who should have been running Carithers Shipping, not him. If your
daddy
hadn’t been a bigger idiot than Carson, he wouldn’t have been so caught up in tradition. He should have leftthe company to the kid with the brains instead of his only son.”
    “He wasn’t an idiot, Cat. He was brought up to believe in tradition and family—the Carithers’s curse.”
    “And you’re going to keep right on with the tradition, wasting what money you just won on that leaky ghost bucket of a house you live in instead of using it to buy yourself a future.”
    Katie nodded. “Carithers’ Chance
is
my future.”
    “I’d say it’s more like your past.”
    “Maybe, but I can’t give it up without a fight. I didn’t do anything to