“Why thank you, Mr. Stoudenmire. How nice. Now, can I get you a room?”
“Yes, of course. I need a room on the second floor and at the end of the hall if at all possible.”
She turned; her lovely hand gently slid a key out of the rack. “Room 201 at the end of the hall as you requested.” She paused for a moment and looked down at Jon’s Colts. “I’ve worked long and hard to build my business, Mr. Stoudenmire. I don’t need any trouble here,” she said firmly as she dropped the key into Jon’s hand.
“I understand, Miss Callahan, I surely do. I’m not lookin’ for trouble from anybody.”
She raised her chin and smiled politely at the anxious gunman. “And that will be five dollars, please.”
Jon nervously poked around in his pocket, pulled out a five dollar gold piece and set it on the counter. His weathered, handsome face broke into a smile as he gathered up his belongings and headed up the narrow staircase to his room. He stepped inside, tossed his things on the bed in the corner of the room and glanced out the window at the street below. Busy little town, he thought as he wheeled around and hurried out.
As he passed the desk on his way out the front door, he tipped his hat politely to the stunning Miss Callahan; she smiled warmly. Jon quickly untied Babe from the hitching post and walked her down to the livery stable to get her some oats and well-deserved grooming. As Jon approached the stable, he could see a shadowy figure showing a horse just inside the front entrance.
“Evenin’,” Jon said loud enough so the man could hear. The aging stable hand looked around, somewhat startled by the unexpected voice.
“Evenin’. What can I do for ya?”
“Can you work another one into your schedule?”
“Sure can, Mister. That’s one of the prettiest palominos I’ve ever seen.” He laid the horse’s hoof on the ground and walked over to greet Jon.
“Thank ya kindly!” Jon said as they shook. “And if ya don’t mind, sir, I need a little advice.”
“Fire away! My wife tells me I’m good at giving advice.”
Jon grinned. “Ya got a bathhouse here in town? I’m needin’ a haircut and a bath real bad.”
“Sure ‘nough do. There’s a barber shop around the corner and he’s got a few tubs in the back.” The hand walked over and took the reins from Jon and led Babe into the stable.
“We had a long ride today. She got plenty hot out there—she might need a little extra time.”
“No problem, Mister. I’ll give her all the time she needs. Now, why don’t you quit fussin’ about your horse and get on outta here and relax a little bit? I promise I’ll take real good care of her.” His mouth curled up in a friendly grin.
Jon turned and headed for the bathhouse. His legs were stiff from the many hours of riding along those narrow mountain passes. It felt good to walk and stretch for a minute.
Several people seemed to recognize Jon from the earlier gunplay at the Dead End as he walked down the dusty street. Soon he was in front of the bath-house. He looked up at the well worn sign: “Harper’s Barbershop.” As Jon jumped up on the boardwalk and hurried in, he noticed another sign advertising “Shave, haircut, and bath, four bits.”
Chapter 5
Jon felt like a new man as he bumped the door open to the Dead End Saloon and strolled inside. The place was full of life and kind of fancy. There was a long mahogany bar pushed up against the back wall. A large mirror with beveled glass hung behind the bar. Several gambling tables, faro tables, and roulette tables filled the center area. On the far side, there was a long oak stairway that led up to the painted ladies’ rooms. A honky-tonk piano sat in the corner of the room near the bottom of the stairs. The talented piano player was at full throttle when Jon arrived. Not a bad place to hang out, he thought.
Jon moved slowly toward the long bar. It was lined up from end to end with all sorts of humanity: miners, cowboys, gamblers, rustlers, and a few Mexican cattle herders and, as always, the hookers, conmen, gunmen, outlaws, and rounders. After his earlier fight with the cowboys, he wasn’t looking for any grief from anyone. A few drinks and some grub with Cliff was all he was looking for on this warm spring night.
On the way to the end of the bar, Jon caught a glimpse of a gentleman in a fancy suit talking with some gamers at a faro table. As Jon leaned up against the bar, the man looked at him. He nodded to the faro players and walked toward Jon.
“Howdy, stranger. I’m Lou Stanton. This here den of iniquity belongs to me,” he joked as his hand reached forward for a shake.
“Jon Stoudenmire.” The two men shook hands.
“Yes, I know,” Stanton replied. “When you chased off those fellas this morning, some of the local folks recognized you.”
“Hmmm, is that so?” Jon frowned.
“Yeah, word travels slow over the mountains, but it eventually gets here. They say you’re not one to trifle with.”
Jon grimaced. “I don’t want any trouble, Lou. I’m just in for the night. I’m headin’ out in the mornin’. Got some friends in Vinegar Bend.”
“Uh-huh. Vinegar Bend, ya say. That’s not too far—just a few hours ride from here.”
“Yep, I’m almost there!” Jon smiled.
Lou hesitated. “Let me give you a little advice, Stoudenmire. Watch your backside. There’s some tough hombres around here, and they’d like nothin’ better than to fill you full of lead. They’d become famous overnight.”
“Thanks for the warning, Lou, but like I said, I’m not stayin’ long, just passin’ through.”
Lou glanced at Jon’s six guns and smiled.
“Just for protection,” Jon said quickly.
“Well, I guess a man like you can’t be too careful!” Lou turned and walked quickly back to the gambling tables.
Jon shaded his eyes as the swinging door pushed open. Cliff hurried in and made his way to the bar. Several of the men in the casino spoke to him as he wound through the tables. He was obviously well known and well liked in El Cabrera.
“Sorry, Jon. Got held up at the bank,” Cliff sighed as he fell against the bar.
“No problem, cus. I thought you might have changed your mind or something.”
“No way! I wouldn’t have missed this dinner for anything. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
“Yeah, I guess we do, Cliff,” Jon said as he tossed down a shot of whiskey. “Seems like you know about everybody in town.”
“I’ve been around a while. I know my share of folks all right. There’s some good ones and some bad ones, just like any other place.” The bartender slid a shot of whiskey in front of Cliff.
“Wish
