By Woodmanone copyright May, 2013
Please take the time to read the preceding chapters before going on with this one.
As usual any constructive comments, critiques, and/or emails are welcome and appreciated.
********************
Chapter Four
Shoulder feels pretty good, Zach thought as he kept his promise to visit Sir Gerald and Lady Kathleen at the Grand Hotel; it was three days after his first meeting with Sir Gerald Astor. Still a mite tender but it's healing up. Should be able to ride out in another three or four days; course if the Doc has his way I'd still be sitting on my backside.
The Grand Hotel was just that, Grand; at least for Tucson. The building was two stories, painted a brilliant white, with four tall columns across the front. For those from the South, it reminded them of the anti-bellum plantation mansions in Georgia or Alabama. The Grand had been built by a railroad tycoon for visiting people of importance; both investors and wealthier companions who wanted to escape the harsh winter weather farther East and farther to the north. However, summer in the southwest wasn't a good time for visiting so the hotel was mostly empty.
Zach had waited until the heat of the day passed before his visit. He felt out of place as he entered the foyer of the hotel. Doc had my pants cleaned while I was laid up, he thought, but there still a mite threadbare and worn from the trail. Hell, even brand new they're not fancy enough for this place. Good thing Doc loaned me a shirt.
Zach approached the man behind the desk. The clerk looked at Zach with a raised eyebrow. He took in the faded whipcord pants, worn shirt, scruffy moccasins and raised an eyebrow. His expression seemed to say, who is this cow person and what is he doing in my hotel? "May I help you?" The clerk asked in a voice that indicated Zach had to be in the wrong place; he couldn't possibly have business at the Grand.
"Like to see Sir Gerald Astor and Lady Kathleen please," Zach replied.
"And what is your business with Sir Gerald?"
Zach was usually an easy going man; he didn't push people but he didn't accept being pushed. He leaned on the counter and looked at the desk clerk with piercing gray eyes that had gone from soft to hard in an instant. "Ain't rightly none of your business Mister. Just let Sir Gerald know that Zach Carson is here to see him."
Feeling the heat from those gray eyes, the clerk began to think he'd overstep his bounds. He was sure of it when Zach stood back from the counter. Zach's hands had naturally dropped to his sides and the clerk's eyes were drawn to the big Colt, holstered on his hips.
"Yes sir, right away." Pointing to several sofas and settees scattered on the far side of the lobby. "If you'll just wait there please, I'll send the bellman up to Sir Gerald's room."
Zach nodded and found a seat. Long time since I set on anything but a saddle or the ground he thought as he settled back on the comfortable sofa. It was only a few minutes before Kathleen came down the grand staircase and walked over to him.
"Why are you sitting out here?" She asked.
Zach pointed to the desk clerk. "That fellar there said for me to wait here. He's the range boss of the hotel so I thought I'd better listen to him."
"Mr. Dickery was told to sit you at our table in the dining room." Kathleen turned and gave the clerk a look that might have killed other men. As it was, Dickery seemed to melt in on himself when he saw her stare. "Come with me Zach," she ordered.
Zach stood, tipped his hat at Dickery, gave him a self satisfied grin and followed Kathleen. Sure beats staring at the rear ends of cows, he thought as he walked behind her. The manners Zach had been taught by his mother, which he hadn't had much use for on the trail, came out. He took off his hat and when they got to a large corner table in the dining room, he pulled out Kathleen's chair. When she was sitting, he chose a chair across the table from her.
"Why don't you sit here next to me Zach," she suggested with a smile. "It will be oh so much easier to talk that way." You obviously are feeling better. How's your shoulder?"
Zach stood and moved two chairs over next to Kathleen. "Still a mite sore but another week of this easy living and I'll be back on the trail."
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about young man," Sir Gerald said as he walked to the table. Zach had been paying so much attention to Kathleen, that he hadn't noticed her father come into the dining room. He stood to greet Sir Gerald and after shaking hands they both sat down.
Sir Gerald, Kathleen, and Zach stepped out onto a patio for an after dinner drink and the men lit cigars. "I believe I owe you money Mr. Carson," Sir Gerald said as they sat at one of the tables on the patio. "Kathleen tells me she promised you a fee for rescuing her." Sir Gerald was wearing a fancy frock coat and pulled his wallet out of an inside pocket.
He counted out some bills, laid them on the table between him and Zach. "Is $1000 sufficient?" Zach looked at the money, then at Sir Gerald and shook his head.
"Put your money away Sir Gerald," Zach replied. "I won't take it for helping Kathleen."
"You put yourself at risk to help my daughter, great risk I might add. Those outlaws could have killed you both and you were seriously wounded. You deserve a reward."
"Sir, the way I was raised you don't expect money for helping people," Zach answered. "Besides, I figure Kathleen and I are sorta even. I rescued her then she rescued me."
"That's admirable Mr. Carson," Sir Gerald responded. "Let me suggest this. I will pay for a hotel room and board for you until you're fit to travel. I also will pay for the stagecoach fare for you to come to my ranch in Prescott Valley. If you won't accept a reward, possibly you will let me replace the horse you lost."
Zach started to protest but Kathleen spoke up. "Please Zach, let Father help. He, and I, would feel so much better about it."
Studying Kathleen for several seconds, Zach nodded. "Reckon I could use a horse," he said.
********************
Zach decided he needed some new clothes. His shirt had been torn to get at his wound and was useless. The pants he'd been wearing weren't torn but were bloodstained and no amount of washing could get those stains out. Luckily his hat and moccasins were fine, if a little trail worn.
He had left most of his money with the saddlebags at the water hole but he did have five gold Double Eagles left in his pocket. Zach bought a pair of pants, two shirts, a new hat, a new pair of boots and some other things like shaving gear, a bedroll and ground cloth; spending thirty dollars. After using the advance from Sir Gerald to pay for his stage ticket, he had fifty some dollars left which he split with Dr. Simpson.
"Go ahead and take it," Zach said when the Doc tried to turn down the money. "I've been living off you long enough. Sides, weren't for you I wouldn't have need for it anyway."