John sighs heavily as they ride out of the garrison yard. “Every time I started to feel at home somewhere, it always gets taken away from me.”
“I had no idea you were so unhappy,” David says with concern in his voice.
“Oh, I’m not unhappy, it’s more like I am just numb. I don’t really feel comfortable anywhere anymore is all.”
Chapter 42
David stays silent the rest of the trip into Norman. The hotel is on the other side of town, five blocks away from the railroad tracks. There is a livery stable across the street and down two buildings, literally on the edge of town.
John and David ride up to and tie their horses off at the hitching post in front of a building with the sign in front of it labeled “The Emerald Fields”. It has a picture of a lush green field. As they enter the foyer, they are greeted by a melodic Irish brogue voice saying, “Welcome to ma home, gentlemen. Ma name is Laura Mallory.”
The woman who is speaking is an older, tall, beautiful red-head. She stands behind a counter, her hands near a registry. John removes his hat and steps up to the counter. “Yes, ma’am. My friend and I would like a room each. How much will they be?”
“If’n ya want meals, ‘twill be two dollars a day, each room. If’n ya doan want any meals, ‘twill be a dollar a day. If ya plan on stayin’ mohr t’han a week, I’ll need a week in advance.”
John reaches inside the left side of his vest to where his money pouch is, pulls it out and checks the money inside. He sees that he has ten twenty dollar gold pieces left. He sighs. “Okay. We’ll take two rooms with food for five days, and will get them longer if needed.”
The lady checks the gold piece to make sure it’s not fake and places it in the cash box behind the counter. She turns the register and indicates a couple of empty lines. “Either ya use toebacca?” Both men shake their heads. “Good. Nasty habit, t’at is. If ya did, I was gonna tell ya ta take it outside.”
When they finish signing in, she turns, grabs two keys and hands them to John. “I’m givin ya the two rooms at the end of the hall, across from each other. You two seem sensible enough. I dunnae wan any trouble from ya, ya hear?”
Both men look at each other and smile, then answer in unison. “Yes, ma’am.”
John asks, “Who do we talk to about stabling our horses?”
“Livery is across tha street. Someone in t’here will help ya. I dunnae expect ya will be out late, but I dunnae wan anyone comin’ in pass midnight, ya hear?”
“Yes, ma’am. Midnight curfew.” John smiles and nods, again. Both men leave the hotel and get their things from their horses. When they get upstairs, John hands David the key to the room not right next to the stairwell. “I expect that room will be quieter for you,” he explains, pointing towards the door that is across the hall from his own.
David nods in agreement and unlocks his door, stepping inside quickly.
John does likewise. The room is well lit by natural light, airy, has a chest, a bed, and a night-stand with a lamp on it. The room is immaculate.
Despite himself, John is impressed. This is quite the accommodations for a dollar a day. He is just getting done with setting his bags down on the bed, when he hears a knock on the door.
He turns to the open door and sees a tall, strapping young lad, standing there with a couple of towels in his arms.
“Ma mam says ya will appreciate use of our bath-in facilities. She says I’m supposed ta bring ya both a towel or two,” he says in way of greeting. He hands the towels over to John.
John thanks the man and tosses the towels on to the bed next to his saddle bags.
“Tha bath-in rooms are around back. When ye’re ready to avail yerselfs of t’hem, just either ask at tha desk or in tha dining room and we kin get ya set up.”
“Why are you guys giving us so much?” John looks confused. “This not normal service you provide your customers, is it?”
The young man motions to the right side of the inside of John’s vest, where his badge is. “Ma mam saw it earlier. She doan wanna make a big deal about it, but she gives more ta law. Her way ‘o sayin’, t’hankee.”
John is speechless. “Well. Um, thank you. It is truly unexpected though,” he manages to get out. “Thank you for this. Will it cost more for my friend to use the bathhouse as well?”
The man shakes his head. “If ya need anyt’hin’ else, ma name’s Sean.”
“Um, thank you, again.”
Sean turns and walks quickly down the hall.
John picks up one of the towels, goes next door to David’s room and says, “You’ll never believe it.”
David smirks. “The doors were open after all. You’re right, I don’t. That doesn’t mean we can’t make use of their generosity, now does it?”
John’s smile is wide as he shakes his head. He hands the towel to David, before turning, closing, then locking the door to his room. He turns back toward David, who is locking his door as well.
They both go downstairs and ride over to the livery. When they ride in, they hear someone yell, “Hang on a minute! I’ll be right down!” They hear scurrying in the upper loft, then a pulley squeaking as it sounds like someone grabs a rope and jumps off the ledge.
John sees the livery-man walk up from the shadows.
He is one of the biggest men John has ever seen. He stands over six and a half feet tall, and is a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, mountain of a man. He walks up to John’s horse and in a guttural, deep bass voice says, “Evenin’, fellas, how can I help ya?”
John responds quickly. “We need stabling for our mounts for a few days. How much, and does it come with oats?”
“Dollar and a bit each day. I feed oats in mornin’ and hay in evenin’. Horses get exercised daily. I can also do shoein’ and tack repair if needed.”
David says to John, “You got the rooms. I’ll get this.” He dismounts and steps over to the mountain sized man. He pulls out a wallet and hands over a twenty dollar gold piece.
The man takes the gold in his massive hand and bites it, checking to make sure it is real. John notices that David’s hand, which is by no means small, looks like that of a child compared to that of the giant man’s.
He nods. “M’name’s Fritz. Most people call me Paul.”
“I’m David, he’s John. Pleasure.” David reaches out and shakes the man’s hand. “Why do people call you Paul?”
“I used to be a lumberjack up in the Oregon territory. They used to call me Paul Bunyan, but over time, it shortened to just Paul.”
David shakes his head. “I’m still not familiar with the name, sorry.”
“It’s okay. There’s not a lot of people around here that are.”
John dismounts and hands his reins over. “These boys have been going hard for awhile now. They deserve a good rest.”
“They will be treated as kings. You have my word. How long are you plannin on stayin in town?”
“A few days, we think. We have some legal matters to attend to. So, we expect it will be a bit.”
“I will make sure your noble steeds are well cared for, for as long as they are in my care.” He starts to lead the horses away, stops, and turns back. “I noticed your gun, there. Would ya mind showin it to me?”
John turns and slowly slides his revolver from the holster, then holds it out at an angle, showing the etchings on it.
Paul looks at it closely for a moment. “That’s what I thought,” he rumbles under his voice.
“What is?” John asks suspiciously.
“I’ve seen your gun before. How long have you had it?”
“I’ve had this gun almost thirty years. My brother and I had matching pistols made just before the war.” He slides it back into the holster.
“I swear that was the gun I saw. It could have been your brother’s gun I saw, maybe. Does he live around these parts?”
“He died in an Apache raid the better part of twenty years ago. I never recovered his gun.” He looks at David a moment, noting
the questioning look on his young friend’s face. He turns back to Paul and says, “If you ever see it, or the man carrying it again, I will be willing to pay top dollar to get it back.”
Then man nods thoughtfully and says, “I’ll keep an eye out for it.” He turns and leads the horses deeper into the stables.
As John and David turn to go back to the hotel, David asks, “Wanna talk about it?”
“It’s a very long story. Honestly, don’t know if you wanna hear it.”
“Let’s talk over dinner. I want to get cleaned up first.”
John nods. They go back upstairs and get their clothing and towels, then head down to the registration desk.
Just before they reach the foot of the stairs, John sees Sean come out of the dining room. He says to his young host, “We would both like to get clean, if you don’t mind.”
Sean looks at the two men quickly assessing their mood and nods. “I’ll be just a minute, if’n ya doan mind.”
John nods. The two men finish going down the stairs and stand close to the back door.
Sean goes to a closet under the stairs quickly, returning a few moments later, carrying a key and two bars of some type of heavily scented herbal soap. “If’n ya doan mind followin’ me, gentlemen?”
The three men troop out the back door, go across a small plank-style bridge and enter the steaming bathhouse.
John is surprised to see they have hot water freely available and mentions it.
Sean says, “We keep tha hot water goin for tha kitchens. ‘Tis cheaper an’ easier t’hat way. Plus, we use tha water for doing laundry as well, here.”
He leads the way over to a couple of closed-in stalls, each with a tub, a bench, a bucket, and a pitcher. Sean grabs the buckets and pitchers saying, “I’ll be right back. Go ahead and get in the tubs, I’ll be back with the water.”
John and David share a quick look and start stripping off their clothes. Once done, they both get into a tub each. They aren’t in there more than a minute, before Sean returns with the pails and pitchers full. The water in the pails is room temperature, but that in the pitchers is boiling.
It takes Sean several trips to get the tubs full of the steaming water. John leans back, allowing the hot water to soak away the aches he had forgotten having ignored for who knows how long. He begins to relax enough, he starts to doze and barely hears as David starts splashing while he washes in his own tub.
John comes to with a start. Deciding he has soaked long enough, he scrubs the accumulated filth of the last week and a half or so. The soap tingles as he is scrubbing with it. The soap rinses cleanly off his body, feeling cleaner than he can recall ever feeling.
By the time John is out of the tub, the water has cooled considerably, but the feelings of relief and of being refreshed are amazing to John. He towels himself off and gets into his clean clothes. He gathers his dirty clothing and turns in time to see Sean standing there with his hands out.
“If’n ya doan mind, I’ll take t’hem grubby t’hings ‘n get‘em warshed fer ya.”
John quickly changes his badge over to his clean vest, and hands all his clothes over, glad to be able to get them cleaned at last. David hands over his as well, the relief evident on his face.
Sean turns and leads the way out of the bathhouse, dropping the filthy garments off into a woven basket by the door.
On impulse, John asks, “What about the water in the tubs?”
Sean smiles impudently and asks, “Wanna see?”
John nods vigorously. “Of course.”
Sean leads the two men back into the room with the stalls and motions for them to lean in closer to the tub. He reaches down, undoes a latch, and shows a small panel moves away from the tub. John sees the water rushing out of the tub, into a narrow channel that allows the water to exit the building. Sean moves over and does the same with the other tub.
He motions them to follow him as he briskly leaves the bathhouse. As John goes back over the plank-style bridge, he notices that the water is rushing underneath it. Sean leads the men into an area with a rather large garden. He shows the irrigation channels and says, “Ya noticed t’hat soap wasnae tha usual lye soap?”
John and David both nod.
“’Tis a special blend of herbs t’hat come from our homeland. It works wonderfully as fertilizer when mixed wit’ water. Ya see, by takin’a bath, ya are helpin’ us grow our garden as well.” Sean smiles, indicating the numerous plants growing before them.
John is impressed at their ingenuity. He looks around the garden, noting many of the vegetables look large and healthy. He understands, now, why the soap smelled and felt so different. “I’m glad us accepting your hospitality benefits you as well. That soap felt absolutely wonderful. I wonder if I might be able to buy a few cakes of them?”
“I cannae say for certain, but I will talk ta mam and we’ll see,” Sean replies. “If nothing else, we kin send ya home with what ya have already used.”
John nods in agreement. “Wonderful.”
The three men make their way back inside the hotel and troop into the dining room, full of patrons. Sean makes a motion indicating that they should seat themselves at the lone empty table. He says, “Excuse me a moment fellas.” He goes to the back, behind the counter, and comes back a moment later with several menus.
John spends a moment looking over the menu. They have quite an amazing array of dishes available, considering the lack of time for crops to be in the ground.
Sean asks, “Do ya fellas drink beer?” Both men nod. “Good. I have some special beer straight from Dublin I would like ya ta try. We are tryin’ ta figure out if it will be popular enough ta carry. Just a second.” He turns and rushes back to the kitchen excitedly.
John smirks. “Think we should be worried?”
David shrugs. “I’m more interested in this food. Whatcha think looks good?”
“I’m rather interested in this ‘bangers and mash’ myself. Though the cottage pie looks good, too.” As John looks at the menu, many of the items seem to blend together.
“I think I’ll try their roast beef,” David replies thoughtfully. Both men are so engrossed in their menus, they fail to notice Sean approach with two mugs of a dark liquid.
When Sean reaches the table, he sets the mugs down carefully and says, “T’his drink is called Guinness Stout. Comes straight from ma homeland.” He looks a little nervous. “Hope ya like it?” He continues standing there expectantly.
Getting the hint, John sets his menu down and takes an experimental sip of the thick dark liquid. His face screws into a grimace. The flavor is strong enough that John is surprised it isn’t walking out of the mug of its own accord. It burns going down his throat, much like whiskey does and feels it clear out the mucous in the back of his sinus cavity. He coughs at the sensation. As he inhales, he can still feel the tickle of the alcohol in the back of his throat. He takes a full on drink of it and finds the flavor much to his liking. He coughs again. “Smooth,” he gasps with sarcasm. He smiles and in a more normal tone says, “Good though.”
Sean looks at David, who now has a look of trepidation on his face. John nods in encouragement. David takes a sip as well. He immediately starts coughing. John chuckles at his friends reaction.
After the coughing fit subsides a moment later, David takes a full on drink. He sits there gasping a moment, before wheezing, “Once you get past the initial burn, it’s not bad.”
Sean asks tentatively, “So do ya both t’hink ya would pay for it, if offered some on a regular basis?”
By the time Sean is finished asking his questions, John is finished draining the rest of his tankard in one long pull. He sits there gasping a moment, before answering in a breathless voice, “Yes, to both.”
Sean breathes a sigh of relief. “Ah. T’hat makes ma heart glad. We didnae know if anyone would like it, and ended up getting several casks of tha stuff.”
David takes another drink and croaks, “You said this drink is Irish?”
/> “Aye.”
“Is everything Irish a test of your courage?” David asks curiously. He looks up at the host and says, “I think I would like either water or tea as well.”
Sean’s laugh is good-natured. “Ya have no idea. Of course I’ll bring ya somethin else ta drink.” He looks at the pair a moment longer, then sighs. “Oh, dearie me. Where are ma manners? Wha’ woul’ ya fellas like ta ate?”
David laughs and John chuckles.
“Sorry. I got side-tracked having ya try ma favorite drink.”
John says, “I think I would like to try the bangers and mash.”
David takes another drink and gasps out, “Pot roast.”
Sean laughs lightly, turns and heads back to the kitchen.
John leans back in his chair, enjoying the effect the beer is having on him. He is feeling sufficiently relaxed after the amazing soak in the tub, and now having alcohol, without the feeling of getting drunk.
David takes another drink. He seems to be on a mission to finish this tankard no matter what.
John smiles at his young friend. “Don’t overdo it. I don’t want to have to carry you upstairs.”
David looks at John defiantly before draining the rest of his tankard of the strong drink in one final gulp. “There. Now.” He coughs for a moment. “What is this about a brother?”
John sighs. “I was hoping you were gonna forget about that. You’re sure you really wanna know?” David nods. “So, you have to understand, when I call Josh my brother he’s my gi-gv-di-na-da-nv-tli.” John places his forearms on the table and leans on them. Speaking in Cherokee, John describes growing up in the orphanage and its demise.
Sean comes up to the table holding a platter with the drinks and plates of food and clears his throat meaningfully. John and David move out of the way, allowing him to place the dishes on the table. The amount of food in front of them is staggering.
David bows his head and says a quick prayer. Sean takes a quick glance and bows his head as well. John shifts in is seat uncomfortable. David mutters “Amen”.
Sean mutters “Amen” as well, then nods and asks, “Is t’here anything else I kin getcha?”
The Marshal of Denver Page 22