FROM SODA TO HOCK – A Discourse on The Game of Faro, as Played in The Wild West
The first card out of a faro box was called the “soda” and did not count in the betting. The last card in the deck, the “hock,” was also dead. Thus, derived the expression, “from soda to hock,” meaning from beginning to end, one of many idiomatic terms that came into the language from the frontier’s most popular game (from The Knights Of The Green Cloth by DeArment).
In preparation for the writing of my book, Maisy’s Gamble, I did an in-depth study of the game of Faro (also spelled pharo). Dealing faro, you see, was how my heroine, Maisy Macoubrie, earned her living.
Between 1850 and 1910, the stereotypical frontier gambler was found in every mining camp, railhead, cattle town, and army post, plus a few places in between. Hiding his thoughts and emotions took no effort for this man, for he naturally avoided letting anyone too close; they might discover his secrets. His eyes flick over every surface, every face, while his brain calculates the possible opportunities to be had on site. His ear takes in every clink of a coin, every whisper of pastebacks being shuffled. No weapons are visible on his person. Gems flash from rings and stickpins. He appears amiable, but don’t be fooled; he can be ruthless to a fault.
Seeing a game starting up at a back table whose occupants wear fine broadcloth suits, gold watch chains and polished shoes, he saunters over, watches for a moment, then asks, “Mind if I sit in?” The other players eye him up and down, decide he’s okay and motion for him to take a seat.
The dealer, a young man in clean but ordinary clothes, isn’t taken in by the new player but says nothing. Folks in the Old West tended to mind their own business.
By the time the game is over, the new fellow has a pile of money and chips in front of him and the other men wear disgruntled expressions on their faces. Our young gambler knew his fellow players were not gamblers but townsmen seeking entertainment. He never plays against professionals except when he wants to test his skills and mettle.
Maisy, in my book, Maisy’s Gamble, would also recognize the young dandy as a professional and know how to deal with him. Of course, Maisy never cheated, except to save the life of a mistreated dog. And Hock, as she named the dog, was forever grateful and gave her his love and devotion, ready to lay down his life to defend her. Hock manages to get along with Maisy’s other pet, a grumpy calico cat named, of course, Soda.
But there’s only so much a dog can do to keep his mistress alive, particularly when she has an enemy who wants to see her dead.
That’s where The Preacher comes into the story. Preacher is a professional gunman who tends to pray over his victim’s graves. He and Maisy have a mutual enemy and soon join forces in the biggest gamble of their lives against a ruthless killer.
Maisy’s Gamble
For years, Maisy McCoubrie, a woman haunted by a past filled with betrayal and tragedy, manages to stay out of the clutches of one Gold Kingsley who seduced her when she was a mere girl. But now, as she navigates the saloon world as a Faro dealer, hiding her illegitimate son from the world, and his father, she spots Kingsley on the street and jumps on a departing train.
Tasked by Kingsley with finding Maisy, The Preacher, a man with a shadowy history and a notorious repute, harbors doubts about the man’s plans for Maisy. When he stumbles upon a seemingly lifeless saloon girl, he learns Kingsley’s cruelty knows no bounds. But again, Kingsley turns the tables on his enemy and frames The Preacher for the girl’s murder.
As danger looms, The Preacher and Maisy are drawn together by a force more potent than revenge—love. Their shared quest to bring Kingsley to justice unites their hearts in a story of unlikely alliances turned passionate devotion.
But Kingsley will stop at nothing to see his malevolent designs come to fruition. When Maisy’s son becomes an unwitting pawn in the final confrontation, the lines between right and wrong blur. With Maisy and The Preacher working together, justice will be served, even if it means taking matters into their own hands.
In this Western historical romance, love blossoms amidst the dust and danger of the Old West, and justice is found in the most unexpected places. Join Maisy and The Preacher as they navigate a treacherous path toward happiness, leaving a trail of redemption and reckoning in their wake.
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An avid reader, Charlene Raddon never planned to be a writer. A vivid dream changed that. She dragged out a portable typewriter and began to put her dream on paper. Originally published by Kensington Books, Charlene is now an Indie author. All her books have received high accolades, contest wins, and awards. When not writing, she designs historical book covers at her site where she specializes in westerns.