The Marshal of Denver by Judge Rodriguez & Alanna D. Rodriguez

Author:Judge Rodriguez & Alanna D. Rodriguez
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Oklahoma, Land, Denver, Legends, Historical
Publisher: Landrun Publishing
Published: 2020-04-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 42

David stays silent the rest of the trip into Norman. The hotel is on the other side of town, fifteen blocks away from the railroad tracks. There is a livery stable across the street, 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’hat 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 tha two rooms close ta tha head o’ tha stairs, across from each other. Ya 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 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 eleven, ya hear?”

“Yes, ma’am. Eleven 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.

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