Chapter 16

“What can I do for you?” the small man behind the counter asked. He looked as out of place as Eliza felt. He appeared to be a transplant directly from New York. One that not only didn’t mind the difference in his dress and demeanor than his customers, but also reveled in it. But in one thing he was just like the other men—he couldn’t resist leering at her either.

“I’d like a room.”

“For you and your…wife?” “Wife” sounded like a curse rolling off his tongue. Eliza shifted her weight.

“Yes.”

“That’ll be five dollars,” the clerk said, holding out his hand.

“For the night?” Ford asked, his voice flat.

“Yes.”

“Then we’ll go across the street,” he said, turning to the door. Eliza’s stomach rolled. She didn’t want to pass through the horde of men again.

“You’re welcome to, but they’ll charge you six.”

Ford paused. “I see. Why don’t you show us to our room then?”