“Good.”
It took Megan another half hour before she was satisfied that her horses were taken care of well enough to leave. By then, Longarm’s gut was growling and he was just about ready to suggest that she find her own accommodations.
“Where is the U.S. Hotel?” she asked.
“Follow me,” he said, carrying his saddlebags, rifle, and canteen and letting Megan carry hers.
She followed him up the boardwalk, and the word of her passing swept through the rough saloons so that men set their drinks on the bar and came to admire her as she trudged along. Not a one of them missed the occasion, and it seemed to Longarm that they had to pass every drinking establishment on Main Street. There was the Payrole Saloon, the Rifle Club, the Cabinet, the Champion, Mark’s Saloon, the Bonanza, and the Sawdust Corner.
“Have you gawky sonsabitches got nothing better to do than to look at a sweet girl from Reno!” he demanded of one particularly rough and leering miner.
“Shut your mouth, cowboy,” the miner said. “I’m goin’ to make her acquaintance and-“
Longarm didn’t let the miner finish. He was a short, powerful sort with a scarred face and a jutting jaw. Longarm snapped the heavy barrel of his Winchester down sharply across the miner’s forehead, dropping him like a chopped tree. He stepped over the unconscious man and called back over his shoulder to Megan, “Come along, my dear. We’re almost to our room.”
Megan muttered something, but Longarm decided it was better that he had not understood. When they finally marched up to the registration desk, Longarm rapped it with his rifle barrel and then he shouted, “Anyone working here?”
A clerk jumped out from behind some curtains. He was a thin, elderly fellow with bat ears and bad eyes. He blinked myopically at Longarm and then he cleared his throat. “It wasn’t necessary to bang on our counter or shout, sir!”
“Sorry, but it’s been a long day for me and my wife.”
Megan inhaled sharply. “Your what!”
“My wife, dear. That’s you. Remember? How much is your best room?”
“A dollar a night.”
“That’s outrageous!” Megan cried.
The clerk blinked rapidly. He cleared his throat, drew himself up tall, and pronounced, “You are both more than welcome to find another establishment. There are many to choose from, and I’m sure that you will not mind their lice and bedbugs.”
“We’ll take a room here,” Longarm said.
“Payment in advance, please.”
Longarm turned to Megan and looked at her. “Did you have something else to say, dear?”
Her blue eyes were round. She opened her mouth to speak, then clamped it shut and shook her head back and forth.
“Good,” Longarm said. He paid the hotel clerk and entered the name of Thomas Jefferson.
The clerk stared at it for several minutes. He removed his thick spectacles, then stared some more, squinting mightily before replacing his glasses. Finally, he looked up and said, “Are you a descendant of President Jefferson?”
“His great-grandson.”
The desk clerk became excited. “My goodness! May I have your autograph!”
“Sure, but it’ll cost you a dollar. I get asked so often that my hand is damaged and I have to pay the doctor bills.”
“A dollar?” There was a moment of confusion and indecision, then, “Of course!”
Megan pounded Longarm in the spine hard enough to make him grunt with pain. But he got his dollar and room key anyway. They went upstairs, feeling the eyes of several of the patrons boring holes in their backs. Megan wouldn’t even look at Longarm when he opened the door and gallantly ushered her inside.
The room was spacious, clean, and beautifully furnished, just like the last room he’d enjoyed here with a certain young lady of the night had been. There were original oil paintings on almost every wall, and although they weren’t masterpieces, they were good art. The floors were polished with nice throw rugs, and there were expensive lace curtains on the windows. The furniture was old mahogany, and it glistened with oil. The bedspread was satin with blue swirls on white. A large and ornate chandelier illuminated the room, and there were crystal goblets on a counter in case a guest wished to order wine or even French champagne. And finally, only half hidden by a drape, there was an enormous brass tub with soap and a long-handled scrub brush made of ivory and pure pig-bristles.
“Well,” Longarm said, grinning from ear to ear. “Do you still think that this place costs too much?”
“No,” she said, tossing her rifle on the bed, then dropping her saddlebags and walking slowly around the room, marveling at the appointments. “It’s lovely, really. I’d never have suspected something so fine in a mining town.”
“Millionaires want the best,” Longarm explained. “And I can assure you that many have stayed here. Most likely, they squandered their quick fortunes and wound up sleeping in the hills, but they had their grand memories.”
Longarm went over to the bed and flopped down with a sigh. “How about something to drink, dear?”
“No, thanks,” she said, eyeing the bed with growing apprehension.
“Relax,” he said. “I’m paying and you can either sleep with me, or I’ll give you a blanket and you can sleep on the cold floor.”
“Cad.”
Longarm shrugged. “Just standing up for my rights. You made me pay that liveryman six dollars, and by damned I’m going to make you responsible for yourself.”
“I have been for about the last ten years,” she said. “Or didn’t you notice that I not only take care of my father, but I break horses and mend saddles and do other leather work.”
Longarm relented. “Yes,” he said, “you are responsible and my remark was uncalled for. Megan, you are a very, very responsible girl.”
“I’m a woman. As if you hadn’t noticed.”
“I have, of course,” he said, kicking off his boots and starting to enjoy this banter. “But I just wanted to make sure that you remembered that.”
“You remind me every time you look at me,” Megan said. “And so did those other gawking idiots out on the street. But that still didn’t give you the right to crack that one fella’s skull.”
“Oh, yes, it did,” Longarm said, smile melting. “Because the only way you’re going to be safe in a place as rough as Bodie is for everyone to know that you’re my girl. Period. No doubt about that.”
Megan gulped. “I’m packing a pistol.”
“Good,” Longarm said. “Keep it handy because you will no doubt need it. I can’t be watching over you every minute.”
Megan sat down on a satin sofa and glanced over at the bathtub. “Do they bring you hot water as part of the room price?”
“Nope. Costs a dollar extra, and there’s a tip for the boy who totes the buckets up.”
“That’s pretty damned high,” she said.
“It’ll be worth it.”
When Megan said nothing else, Longarm added, “Do you see how big the tub is?”
“Of course.”
“It’s that big so that two people can sit inside and bath at the same time. Maybe scrub each other’s back.”
“And maybe do other things.”
“That’s right,” he said. “Nice things to each other.”
Megan took a deep breath and bounced off the sofa. She went to the window and stared out at the street.
“So,” she said airily, “this is the famous Bodie.”
“It is.”
“Maybe we ought to look up Marshal Kane right now.”
“Uh-uh,” Longarm said, coming up behind her. “I think we need to take a bath together.”
Before Megan could respond, Longarm kissed her. For a moment she resisted, but only for a moment. The next thing he knew, she was hugging him tightly and almost cracking his neck. She was kissing him like crazy.
“Easy,” he said, pushing her away.
“What’s the matter! I thought that you wanted-“