Following the trail, his gun heavy on his body, Roy rode into Fort Worth west of Dallas on a weekday, hoping to find a room without paying the weekend rates that he knew hotels charged. He was interested in seeing the stockyards.
It took several minutes until he found a suitable place to spend the week, maybe longer. "That'll be a dollar a night," said the desk clerk, pushing the register toward him with one hand and reaching for the money Roy proffered with the other.
"You know where there's a decent saloon around here?" Roy inquired.
"Next street over, the Red Dog." The clerk pointed down the street to the left.
Roy handed over a small box that he had all his gold coins in. "And where's the bank?"
"Street over from there, but they're closed now, open tomorrow at ten in the morning."
"OK, then let's lock this up in your safe, all right?" He opened the box and took out one hundred dollars in gold, had the clerk sign for the rest, and handed over the money to be locked up.
Roy left the hotel lobby and walked back up the street toward the saloon, thirsty after a long ride across the prairie. The saloon was about half full of cowboys spending their money after bringing in the cattle for the long rail trip to Chicago.
"Beer," he said, glad that it was cold. The barkeep set the mug down, sloshing a little over the rim. He put a small dish of popcorn next to it, an old trick to keep the thirst level high. "Can you get a girl here, or do you have to go somewhere special?"
"No, you can get a girl here... there is no other place."
"OK," Roy answered, "who do you have to choose from?" He looked around the saloon, wondering which girl was available.
"Right now, there's Susan and Mary. One's a blond and the other is a red head and with everything that goes with that."
"I like the idea of a red head ball of fire. Let's go that way."
The bartender left the front of the saloon and walked up the stairs, leading Roy past several doors until he knocked on one and asked "Mary?" The door opened and a red-headed girl put her face out into the hallway. "I've got someone for you."
The girl stepped back into the room and waited for Roy to enter, closing the door after he was inside. He liked her look and felt the evening would be fun. She had a summer dress on and bedroom slippers.
"How old are you?" he asked.
She patted the bed's cover and sat down. "Twenty-two. My name's Mary," she said, "what's yours?"
*****
Roy settled up with the woman, satisfied with the turn of events. "Let's have dinner," he offered. "Can you get a good steak around here?"
"The hotel has a good dining room. I've only been there once, when I first came here. I'm not allowed there anymore. They don't like whores in the hotel."
"I can fix that," Roy said, knowing that money spoke louder than words. He finished dressing and waited for her to make herself decent, wondering what she had to wear. "Let's go to a dress shop, first."
"Mister, are you sure?"
"Yes, I am. C'mon."
They went downstairs, Mary unsure of what the barkeep was going to say but if he noticed her leaving he said nothing.
Two streets over the whore pointed out the general store that sold dresses and other womanly needs. "Well, let's see what they have," Roy wondered, following the woman into the store. A short while later she had found something that pleased him and had her keep the new clothes on, her old dress wrapped up in brown paper. He took her by the hand, as if afraid she was going to bolt down the street with her newfound clothes.
Ten minutes later, they entered the hotel and if the clerk recognized her he gave no indication of it. Finding an empty table, he held the chair for her and then sat himself down. He ordered two steaks, mashed potatoes and green beans and apple pie for desert. He ordered her two bottles of root beer while he had a beer for himself.
They quietly ate, she rather quickly as if afraid the food would disappear before she could finish it.
"Tell me about yourself," he said in a commanding tone, wondering if she was really worth his time.
It became a long tale of loss. Loss of her homeland, loss of her husband, loss of her money saved from the old country...
"I'm sorry," he said, not really sure what else to say. "How much to spend the week?"
Silence... then "Twenty dollars?" she said more as a question.
"I'll give you fifty but I want all your time." He reached into his pouch and pulled out ten five-dollar gold pieces and placed them in her palm. It seemed more like a gift than a payment and had gone unnoticed by the other diners, none of which recognized the woman from the saloon.
Mary stared at the coins resting in her hand as if unsure what to do. She had never been in this situation before and was unsure what to do... accept the gift for what it was or get up and flee the generous stranger that she had just met.
Roy coughed. He would have thought it was a simple cut-and-dried proposition.
Her hand closed on the coins just as the pie was set down on the table. "I haven't had pie in such a long time," she said, "thank you."
*****
They went for a walk after dinner, ending up back at the saloon where she picked up her underthings to take back to the hotel. She wasn't sure what would happen when they returned but decided that wasn't her problem. She had been embarrassed before.
They walked up the stairs to the second floor where his room was and left her clothing there, deciding to visit the vaudeville theater down the street near the bank. He reminded himself that the next morning he would have to visit the bank and deposit the rest of his coins.
