"I booked a room at the Helton Inn. Maybe you all can rest there for a bit—take a bath or something."
"Of course, I'll put it on my tab."
Mary-Beth, Karen, Molly, Arthur, Uncle, and Mac all carried the same unpleasant smell. It had been far too long since any of them had taken a proper bath. In the West, bathing itself was a kind of luxury.
Aside from Dutch and Micah, Davey actually liked most of the others and didn't mind lending a small hand.
Hearing Davey's offer, Mary-Beth's eyes lit up. "Thank you, Davey."
Uncle let out a low whistle. "Oh, Davey, the Helton Inn? I hear it's three dollars a night!"
Davey chuckled. "Ran into a generous fellow on the road who was kind enough to share a bit of his good fortune."
For an outlaw gang, robbery was nothing unusual, so Davey simply attributed his newfound generosity to his "luck" on the road.
"You really are one lucky man, Davey—running into someone with money to spare," Uncle laughed. "They say the service at the Helton Inn is top-notch."
Davey caught Uncle's tone and smiled. "Maybe you should see for yourself. Arthur and Mac are welcome too."
Uncle's face lit up instantly. "Davey, thank you! You're a true brother."
Just then, Arthur burst in with Karen and Molly. Karen's face was bruised.
"Davey, Uncle—we need to get out of here, now," Arthur said urgently.
He'd gotten into a fight while defending Karen, and trouble was already on their heels.
Uncle groaned in frustration. He'd just been looking forward to the Helton Inn—he'd heard they had some real high-class company there. Mary-Beth looked disappointed too; she'd been hoping for that long-overdue bath.
"What happened, Arthur? Maybe we don't have to rush. Davey's got a room at the Helton Inn—we should clean up first," Uncle said.
Arthur quickly explained, "I got into some trouble. The local sheriff might be after me."
Uncle scowled. "Damn it, Arthur! Can't you keep yourself out of trouble for once?"
At the mention of the sheriff, Uncle immediately realized how serious things were. They were all wanted men. Even if bounties didn't carry over between states, their faces were still worth plenty. Once recognized, getting out of town would be nearly impossible.
Just then, a voice rang out from outside. "That's him! He's the one who hit me!"
Outside the saloon, Valentine's sheriff had already surrounded the place with several deputies.
"Listen up inside!" a voice called out. "I'm Sheriff Curtis Malloy of Valentine. You've been accused of assault, and I need you to come with me for questioning."
Sheriff Malloy was cautious—criminals out West almost always carried guns, and it didn't take much for a gunfight to break out.
Arthur's hand was already resting on his holster.
"Easy, Arthur," Davey said, standing up. "There's no need for this. Maybe we can talk it out with Sheriff Malloy."
He didn't want a shootout. In this world, being wanted wasn't something you could just sleep off like in a game—it would stick with you.
"Alright, Davey. I'll follow your lead," Arthur said. "When I was helping Karen, I roughed that guy up a bit."
Davey walked over, raised his hands alongside Arthur, and the two stepped out of the saloon.
Seeing them comply, Sheriff Malloy let out a small sigh of relief—at least there wouldn't be bloodshed today.
Arthur, Davey, Karen, and the man Arthur had beaten were all taken to the sheriff's office.
Unlike the one in the game, this station was much larger, with at least twenty or thirty officers. Valentine might have been a ranching town of only a few thousand, but it was prosperous enough to support a sizable law force.
"This gentleman says you assaulted him. Is that true? I'd like to hear your explanation," Sheriff Malloy asked from behind his desk.
Arthur was about to speak, but Davey stepped forward first.
"Sheriff Malloy, maybe you should take a look at this young lady here. Notice the bruises on her face? Clearly, our friend stepped in because she was being harassed."
"That's self-defense, wouldn't you agree?"
As he spoke, Davey discreetly slipped a twenty-dollar bill between the pages of a book on the sheriff's desk, his body blocking the view of everyone else. Sheriff Malloy's eyes flickered.
Twenty dollars was no small amount.
"Ahem… this gentleman—"
"Sheriff, my name's Davey," he interrupted smoothly.
"Oh, Mr. Davey, I see your point. It seems you and your friend were treated unfairly."
Sheriff Malloy's tone softened. He turned to the complainant. "Sir, perhaps you'd like to explain why you struck this lovely lady in the first place?"
The man stammered, unsure what to say. He couldn't admit it had been over solicitation—prostitution was illegal across most of the states, and that would be a far worse charge than assault.
Davey stepped forward, wrapping an arm around the man's shoulder with a friendly grin. "Sheriff Malloy, maybe this was all just a misunderstanding. Isn't that right, sir?"
Seeing the situation turn against him, the man quickly nodded. "Yes… yes, it's just a misunderstanding."
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser