Longarm went directly to the Frontier Hotel and rented a room for the night. The establishment was a little more raucous than Joe had described, but the upstairs rooms were clean and the doors were fitted with heavy sliding bolts.
“You’ll have no trouble with anyone here,” the hotel’s proprietor vowed. “Unless you invite ‘em in as your guest. Which brings me to a question.”
“What’s that?” Longarm asked, frowning at the man.
“Sir, are you married?”
“No.”
“Then maybe you’d like a woman sent up. We have some girls that-“
“No, thanks,” Longarm said abruptly. “I’ve had a long, miserable day and all I want is food and maybe a whiskey or two before I turn in early.”
“I understand,” the proprietor said. “And I respect your need for privacy, but our girls really are-“
“Not interested,” Longarm snapped.
The proprietor gave him a curt nod and backed out of the room fast. Longarm bolted his door, then collapsed on his bed for a few minutes. He closed his eyes and must have dozed off because, when he looked around again, it was dark outside and his stomach was staging a full riot.
He lit the bedside lamp and washed his face in a porcelain basin. There was a fresh bar of soap and clean towels laid neatly on his bedside table, along with a note stating that a hot bath could be ordered for only one dollar. Longarm thought that might be a pretty good deal because he was gritty with a heavy accumulation of trail dust. He would have ordered the bath first and then eaten if he had not been so famished.
Boomer’s Cafe was just down the street, and it was obviously the town’s most popular eating establishment. Longarm had to wait a few minutes before he was able to get a stool at the long counter and order a steak with fried potatoes, sourdough bread, and apple pie for dessert.
“What will you have to drink, mister?” the heavyset and hustling counterman asked. “We got whiskey, beer, coffee, and even water.”
“I’ll have whiskey and water,” Longarm said. “It’s been a long day.”
“You do look sort of bushed,” the man said, showing Longarm a grin that was missing both front teeth. “So how do you like your steak?”
“Medium rare sounds about right.”
“That’s the way I like it myself,” the man said, hurrying away to return a moment later with a shot of whiskey and a glass of water.
Longarm downed the whiskey neat, then signaled for a refill. He sipped the second and when his supper finally arrived, he attacked it like a starving wolf. The steak was two inches thick and delicious, not a bit tough. The potatoes were good too. Longarm ordered coffee with his apple pie, and was more than satisfied.
“You get enough to eat?” the man behind the counter asked, refilling his coffee for the third time.
“More than enough,” Longarm said, paying his bill and starting for the door.
“You comin’ back for breakfast?”
“I expect so,” Longarm replied as he passed outside.
Longarm wasn’t paying attention to where he was going and had no excuse when he plowed into a couple on the busy boardwalk.
“Excuse me!” Longarm said, grabbing the young woman. “I am sorry!”
She straightened herself and looked up into his face. A big smile creased her lips and she exclaimed, “Custis! Custis Long! My gosh, but it’s been a while since I saw you last!”
“Irma?”
“Why, sure!” she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tight. “Who else! And how could either of us ever forget that wild night we spent together in Denver?”
Longarm grinned. “I sure haven’t,” he said, remembering that Irma was one of the wildest women he’d ever had in bed. Not only that, but she was pretty and amusing. They’d had one hell of a good time together.
“Come on, dammit,” the man beside Irma growled as he yanked her roughly forward.
“Hey!” she cried. “Don’t be so rough!”
“Yeah, well I didn’t pay you three dollars to bat your eyelashes trying to drum up more business.”
Irma tried to pull away, but the man jerked her even harder. “You want your money or not?” he shouted.
“You can have it back!”
“I don’t want it back! Now come along or I’ll-“
Longarm had heard enough. He took three long strides and his hand locked on the man’s arm. “The lady is going to give you back your money, mister. I think you’d better take it and leave—while you’re still able.”
The man glared at him. He was smaller than Longarm and probably a little younger, lean and angry-looking. The man’s hand dropped to hover over the gun resting on his hip. “Stranger,” he growled, “I paid for this whore and I’m takin’ her to my room. Now, if you want to see another sunrise, you’d best get outa my way.”
Irma started to step between them, but Longarm eased her aside saying, “I think you’d better let me handle him.”
“Elliot is real fast with a gun. Custis, I don’t want you killed!”
