The Bridge

42

I walked back to my room. I thought about returning to Virgil’s place and talking with him about Bolger and my summation about Ballard’s involvement about the buckboard and the men at the bridge, but I figured it could wait until morning.

When I got back to my room I found a note lying on the pillow of my bed. Hot bath? Windsor Hotel. Room 12. Séraphine.

I was tired but only thought about the invitation for the amount of time that it took for me to hear the door of my room above the survey office close behind me.

Next to the Boston House, the Windsor Hotel was supposedly the nicest hotel in Appaloosa. An English couple that had made a successful go of it in the textile business back east operated the hotel. It was a classy establishment next to the depot that catered to stopover train travelers.

When I got to the hotel, a bell dinged above the door. The lobby was dark and empty. There was some light coming from a room behind the counter and a young man stepped out as I neared the front desk.

“Deputy Marshal Hitch, I presume,” he said with a distinct British accent.

“I am.”

He retrieved a key and held it out for me.

“Been expecting you,” he said. “Top of the stairs. To your right, down the hall.”

I walked up the steps, and when I got to the top and turned right, I saw her standing at the far end of the hall.

“I heard you,” she said.

I removed my hat as I walked down the hall to meet her.

She was wearing a nightgown that hung to the floor, covering her feet. The light coming from the open door of her room lit one side of her body like an old-world painting. Venus, I thought, as I walked toward her.

Her long, dark hair was pulled up on top of her head with errant strands falling free, as if the whole of it were about to give way.

I moved close to her without saying anything. I could smell her intoxicating perfume. Her eyes were looking up at me. It was like before, like she was seeing into me, into my soul.

For a long moment we just stood looking at each other, then she said softly, “Bonsoir.”

I leaned in and kissed her. She put her hand on the back of my neck and pulled me tight to her as she kissed me back. I leaned on her slightly and she moved back to the open door of her room. She slid her free hand up under the back of my coat and pulled my body to her. We kissed, hungry, like long-lost lovers. Then I pulled back and looked at her. Her eyes glistened with a haunting, otherworldly fire.

This felt like a dream to me. Everything felt as though I was on the outside looking in. The journey Virgil and I been through, the hour of the evening, the coldness of the weather, the deep snow outside, and her, here in my arms. Goddamn.

“What’s this about a hot bath?” I said.

“This is a fine establishment,” she said. “Look.”

I looked into the room. There was a fancy claw-foot tub in the corner.

“How about that?” I said. “And water?”

“It’s all here,” she said. “Let me show you.”

She led me into the room and shut the door.

The room was small but elegant. There was an ornate cast-iron-and-brass stove in the corner opposite the tub. Two brass five-gallon buckets sat next to the stove full of water.

“I’ll be damned,” I said.

“No,” she said, “never. This much I know.”

She put one of the buckets on top of the stove, then looked back to me and nodded for me to...

“Undress,” she said.

I just looked at her a moment.

She looked at me back; she smiled and nodded again, looking to my clothes.

“You won’t get any argument from me,” I said.

I took off my coat and vest and hung them on a coatrack next to the door, then I sat in a chair in the corner and took off my boots.

“I’d ask you how you knew I was back, but I guess I don’t have to,” I said.

“No,” she said, “you don’t, but I will tell you.”

“Friends, no doubt?”

She shook her head and smiled.

“I saw you and your partner come in, with the wounded man,” she said. “I was walking the boardwalk and I saw you.”

I stood up and undid my trousers and let them drop to the floor.

“Where were you walking to?” I said, as I unbuttoned my shirt. “Or from?”

“No place,” she said.