Читать книгу Wyoming Lawman - Victoria Bylin - Страница 10

Pearl unlocked the door to the suite, shut it behind her and leaned against the wood. She’d never forget the way Matt Wiley had looked at her when he’d thanked her for saving Sarah. She’d felt honorable, whole. If she were honest, she’d felt something even more powerful. She refused to give voice to secret hopes, but she blushed with an undeniable truth. Matt Wiley made her feel pretty again.

“Pearl?”

“I’m here, Papa.”

Tobias came out of the back bedroom with Toby in his arms. At the sound of her voice, the hungry baby let out a wail, kicked and tried to get to his mama. Pearl reached for him. “He needs to nurse.”

Tobias handed her the squirming infant. “I gave him water, but he’s not happy. Is everything all right with the little girl?”

“Just fine.” She jiggled Toby to calm him. “Her father’s a deputy. He found us.”

“Good.”

“She misses her mother,” Pearl added. “Apparently I look like her.”

With Toby in her arms, she thought of Sarah’s hopeful eyes. Under different circumstances, she’d have given Matt Wiley her full name. She’d have offered to braid Sarah’s hair again. If he’d asked her to supper, she’d have said yes and worn her prettiest dress. Toby kicked again, reminding her such dreams were foolish. What man would want her now? She was damaged goods and had a baby to prove it.

“I better feed him,” she said to her father.

Tobias motioned to the second bedroom. “Your trunk’s in there.”

“Thank you, Papa.”

“We have plenty of time,” he added. “Carrie left a message at the desk. She’s expecting us at six o’clock for supper.”

Pearl had mixed feelings about meeting her cousin. Four months ago, when the trouble in Denver had reached a peak, Tobias had written to Carrie and asked for information about Cheyenne. She’d written back and invited them to visit her. They’d accepted, and Carrie had generously made arrangements for Pearl to interview at Miss Marlowe’s School for Girls.

Tonight Pearl would tell Carrie about Toby and the circumstances of his conception. She’d either keep her cousin’s respect or she’d lose it. If she lost it, she wouldn’t have a chance of being hired as a teacher and would have to find another way to earn a living. Tobias had a small pension from his years as a minister at Colfax Avenue Church, but it wasn’t enough to support all three of them. Neither did Pearl want him looking for work. Twice in the last month he’d had bouts of chest pain.

Sighing, she glanced at the clock on the mantel. If she moved quickly, she’d have time to feed Toby, wash the train grit from her face and take a nap. Determined to be at her best, she closed the bedroom door and did all three.

An hour later, a rap on the door to the suite pulled her out of a troubled slumber. In her dreams she’d seen the wagon bearing down on Sarah. The picture had shifted and she’d been braiding the child’s hair. It had turned to shining gold, and Matt Wiley had been watching her hands.

The knock sounded again.

Had Carrie come to meet them? Pearl bolted upright and inspected herself in the mirror. She’d put on her oldest day dress and her hair looked a fright. The knocking turned hammer-like. Not Carrie, she decided as she turned from the mirror.

In the sitting room she saw her father, pale and stiff, coming out of the other bedroom. He motioned her aside, but she couldn’t bear the sight of him trying to hurry. Ignoring his gesture, she opened the door and saw a delivery boy holding a small package wrapped in brown paper.

“Are you Miss Pearl?”

“Yes, I am.”

“This is for you.” He held out the package and Pearl took it. Perhaps Carrie had sent a welcome gift, though the gesture seemed too formal for cousins.

As the boy waited expectantly for a coin for his trouble, Pearl looked at her father. Tobias reached in his pocket, extracted a few pennies and handed them to the boy. As he shut the door, Pearl fingered the package in an attempt to guess its contents. It felt soft, like fabric of some kind. Perhaps a pretty handkerchief. That seemed like the kind of gift Carrie might send. Pearl lifted the card bearing her name and turned it over. Instead of her cousin’s prim cursive, she saw bold strokes in a man’s hand. As she read the message, her cheeks flushed pink.

“Who’s it from?” Tobias asked.

“Deputy Wiley.”

Her father hummed a question. “What does it say?”

“‘To Miss Pearl with our deepest gratitude. You are a woman of uncommon courage.’” She looked up at her father. “It’s signed ‘From Deputy Matt and Sarah.’”

His gray eyes misted. “I like this man.”

“Papa, don’t—”

“Don’t what?” He scowled at her. “Don’t hope for happiness for my little girl? Don’t believe God for a second chance?”

Pearl wanted the same things, but she couldn’t go down the same road, not one lined with mysterious gifts and the curious shine in Matt Wiley’s green eyes. She set the card on the table, then looked at the package. The brown paper spoke of ordinary things, but someone had tied it shut with a lace ribbon instead of twine. Pearl didn’t know how to cope with a man’s interest, not anymore.

Her father nudged the package with his index finger. “Open it.”

She felt as if it held snakes, but she tugged on the ribbon. The bow came loose and the paper unfolded in her hand. Instead of snakes, she found hair ribbons in a dozen shades of blue. The colors matched the sky in all seasons, all times of day. Some of them matched the dress she’d ruined saving Sarah. Others were the pale blue of her eyes.

Pearl would have known what to do with a snake. She’d have cut off its head with a shovel and flung it away. The hair ribbons struck her as both treacherous and lovely…but mostly lovely. Startled by the thought, she caught her breath.

Her father touched her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“I think you know.”

Tobias indicated the divan. “Sit with me, Pearl.”

“I should check Toby.”

He gave her a look she knew well. For ten years he’d pastored the biggest church in Denver. He’d learned when to bend and when to fight. Right now, he looked ready for a fight. Pearl gave up and sat next to him. “There’s nothing to say.”

“Yes, there is.”

Looking older than his fifty-eight years, he lifted a cobalt ribbon from the pile of silk and lace. “Look at it, Pearl. What do you see?”

She saw a pretty snake. It declared a man’s interest and tempted her with hope. To hide her feelings, she shrugged. “I see a ribbon.”

Her father held the silk within her grasp. “Touch it.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Because hope would sink its fangs into her flesh. Her mind would spin tales of princes and husbands, and she’d see Matt Wiley in her dreams. What woman wouldn’t be charmed by the deputy? He loved his daughter and did honorable work. His brown hair framed a lean face and his eyes were the color of new grass. They had a subtle sharpness, a sign of a fine mind, but they also looked steady and true.

Her father turned his wrist, causing the ribbon to shimmer and twist. Her fingers itched to touch it. Knowing Tobias wouldn’t budge until she surrendered, she lifted the ribbon from his hand. As the silk slid across her palm, she thought of braiding Sarah’s hair and telling the deputy to buy his daughter something pretty. Had he bought ribbons for Sarah, too? She hoped so.

Tobias gripped her hand. “We came to Cheyenne for a fresh start. If a man’s interested in you—”

“Papa!”

“I’m serious, Pearl.” He pushed to his feet, crossed to a mirror etched with leaves and faced her. “If your mother were alive, she’d know what to say. I’m not much good at woman talk, but I know one thing for certain.” He paused, daring her to ask and forcing her to listen.

“What’s that?” she finally said.

“A man sends a gift to a woman for just one reason.”

“He had one.” She nudged the card with her finger. “He’s saying thank-you.”

Her father harrumphed.

Pearl wanted to fire back a retort, but she couldn’t look her father in the eye. Deep down, she wanted to believe him. How would it feel to be properly courted? Blinking, she flashed back to Denver. Two days ago she’d caught the bouquet at her best friend’s wedding. She’d imagined—just for an instant—wearing a fancy dress and saying “I do” to a faceless man. That man wasn’t faceless now. He had green eyes.

Pearl placed the cobalt ribbon on top of the others. “I’m a daydreaming fool.”

“No, you’re not,” her father insisted.

Could he be right? Did she have a chance at love? Looking at the ribbons, she thought of all the things the gift could mean. Hair ribbons could be casual or personal, practical or romantic. She thought of the card and how he’d signed it. “Deputy Matt” echoed “Miss Pearl,” a sign that he’d understood her need for discretion and accepted it. She thought of the purpose in his eyes as he’d said goodbye. Were the ribbons more than a thank-you? Was he asking the first sweet question between a man and woman?

What if…

She didn’t know, but she wanted to find out. Never mind the fear chilling her feet. Never mind the threat of humiliation. Matt Wiley had called her a woman of uncommon courage. Like her father said, she’d come to Cheyenne to start a new life for her son. Most important of all, she had faith in the God of second chances. She touched the card with her fingertip, then looked up at her father. “I suppose I should send a thank-you note.”

“That would be very fitting.”

“It’s just…” She shrugged.

“Just what?” her father said gently.

“It’s hard to start over.”

He lowered his chin as if she were Sarah’s age. “That’s true, but we worship a God who loves his children. I can’t explain what happened to you, Pearl. It was hurtful and ugly and I’ll never forgive myself—”

“Don’t say that.” She didn’t blame her father for the violence she’d suffered. She blamed Franklin Dean for being evil.

He held up one hand. “Let me finish.”

She obeyed but only out of habit.

“God has a plan for your life,” he said. “It’s good, but you need the courage to walk that path. You can do it, Pearl. You’re brave and smart and as beautiful as your mother. Any man in Cheyenne would be blessed to have you for a wife.”

She wanted to believe him, but her father saw her through rose-colored lenses. When he kissed her good-night, he still called her “princess.” Even so, she smiled at him. “Thank you, Papa.”

“Now go write that note.”

Her stomach twisted. “I don’t know—”

“I do.” Tobias aimed his thumb at the secretary in the corner. “Get busy. We’ll ask the clerk to deliver it when we leave to see Carrie.”

“If you’re sure…”

“I’m positive.” He gave her a look he’d often used in the pulpit. “It’s about time you showed a little faith—both in God and in people.”

Pearl had no assurance Matt Wiley wouldn’t laugh at her note, but she had walked with the Lord as long as she could remember. “All right. I’ll do it.”

“Good.” Tobias glanced at the wall clock. “I’m going to finish that nap.”

As he left the sitting room, Pearl went to the secretary, opened the drawer and removed stationery, an inkwell and an elegant pen. She positioned the paper on the blotter, filled the well and wrote the note. Both formal and friendly, the wording struck her as just right and she blew the ink dry. On a whim, she added a P.S., then sealed the note and checked on Toby. Satisfied he’d stay asleep, she took the note to the front desk before she could change her mind about asking a “what if” of her own.

The instant Matt set foot in the sheriff’s office, his friend and partner, Dan Cobb, held up two envelopes and grinned. “Here you go, Romeo.”

Scowling, Matt snagged the letters. They were both written on ivory stationery and sealed with white wax. One displayed his name in a script he recognized as belonging to Sarah’s teacher. Miss Carrie Hart taught the youngest girls at Miss Marlowe’s School, and she frequently sent home glowing notes about his daughter. They often chatted when he met Sarah after school, and they’d become casual friends.

The other letter displayed pretty writing that said, “To Deputy Matt and Sarah.” Pearl must have gotten the hair ribbons.

Fighting a smile, he dropped down on his chair and started to open the letter from Pearl. As the seal popped, Dan’s chair squeaked. Matt looked up, caught his friend staring and scowled. “What are you looking at?”

Dan grinned. “Looks to me like a couple of pretty ladies have their eyes on you.”

Matt had no interest in ladies, pretty or otherwise. He held up the first envelope. “This one’s from Carrie Hart. She’s Sarah’s teacher.”

“I know Carrie.” Dan sounded wistful. “I see her at church.”

Matt saw a chance to take a friendly jab. “Judging by that hangdog look, you’re sweet on her.”

“What if I am?”

Matt huffed. “Beware, my friend. Marriage isn’t what it’s cracked up to be.”

“That’s your opinion.”

“It’s the voice of experience.” He’d never forget quarreling with Bettina, how she’d cried when he’d left to go with the Rangers. He’d felt guilty for leaving and even worse the times he’d stayed.

Dan wagged his finger at the second envelope. “Who sent that one?”

“None of your business.”

“Sure it is,” Dan replied. “We’re partners.”

Matt considered the deputy his best friend, but he didn’t want an audience when he read the notes. He gave Dan a pointed stare. “Don’t you have some outlaws to catch?”

“No, but I hear you had a run-in with Jasper.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

The quarrel especially rankled because he hadn’t been on duty when Jasper summoned him. Matt wore his badge and gun all the time, but he’d taken the morning off to be with Sarah. Last night she’d fussed about his long hours, so he’d promised to spend the morning with her. To his chagrin, she’d wanted to play dolls. Matt wasn’t much on dolls, so he’d suggested a tea party with real cake at Madame Fontaine’s bakery. Halfway to the shop, Jasper had waylaid him and Sarah had run off.

Matt told Dan everything except the part about Sarah’s braids. Neither did he mention his trip to the dress shop. After choosing the ribbons—all the blue ones he could see—he’d arranged for a delivery to Pearl, then left Sarah eating cookies with Madame Fontaine while he patched up things with Jasper. It hadn’t gone well.

“Jasper’s a nuisance,” Dan complained. “What did he want this time?”

“Same thing as before.”

“The Peters kid?”

“You guessed it.” Matt propped his boots on the desk. He didn’t usually sit that way, but something about Jasper inspired bad manners. “Teddy Peters swiped some candy off the counter. My gut tells me Jasper put it out to tempt him. The kid bolted, and now Jasper wants him tossed in jail.”

Dan shook his head. “Seems like a talk with his folks would be enough.”

“That’s what I did. Teddy’s mother made him pay, and he’s doing extra chores.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

“Jasper didn’t think so.” Matt could hardly believe what he was about to say. “He threatened to have my badge.”

“He what?”

“He thinks I’m too soft for the job.”

“That fool!”

“Don’t waste your breath.” Matt swung his boots off the desk. “Jasper’s a thorn, but I’ve dealt with worse.”

Dan stayed silent a moment too long. “Don’t underestimate him, Wiley. The man’s got a dark side.”

Matt’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“Secrets,” Dan answered. “Jasper’s got one, and I’m willing to bet he’d do anything to keep it.”

Matt knew about secrets. He had one of his own. “Tell me.”

“You know the hog ranch north of town?”

Dan wasn’t talking about farm animals. Hog ranch was slang for the lowest form of prostitution. Women in that regrettable line of work had often taken a downhill slide from fancy brothels to run-down saloons. As they lost their looks and their health, they slid further and ended up at wretched establishments located on the outskirts of town. Such places were called hog ranches, and they attracted men and women who couldn’t sink much lower. As a Ranger, Matt had walked into such places in search of wanted men. “Are you saying Jasper—”

“Yep.”

Not a week passed that Jasper didn’t send a high-and-mighty letter to the newspaper about prostitution. Being caught at a hog ranch would shame him more than anything. Matt had to hold back a snort. “The man’s a flaming hypocrite. How’d you hear about it?”

“Ben Hawks told me before he left.”

A fellow deputy, Ben had left town shortly after Matt arrived. An aunt in St. Louis had died and left him a small fortune. Matt hadn’t questioned the timing, but he did now. Had Jasper bought the man’s silence?

Dan steepled his fingers. “After Ben left, Jasper started up with those letters. Just before that, the other trouble started.”

Matt’s brow furrowed. “You mean Jed Jones.”

“And the fire at the livery.”

A month ago Matt had found Jones, a suspected horse thief, hanging from a tree in Grass Valley. A few days later the livery had been torched. Some folks thought the owner had bought stolen horses. Last week the Silver Slipper Dance Hall had been the target. Riders wearing masks and black derbies had shot out the windows while chanting “Go! Go! Go!”

Matt recognized the work of vigilantes, but who were they? And why were they striking now? Both questions had possible answers. Horse thieves had raided Troy Martin’s place three times since August. Another rancher, Howard Moreland, had lost a prize stallion. The men were friends and active in the Golden Order. Matt didn’t care for the civic organization at all. The group tended to make unreasonable demands like the one Jasper had made about Teddy. Chester Gates, a banker, served as president. Jasper belonged to the G.O., too. He’d been a founding member.

The news about Jasper’s secret made Matt wonder about the trouble at the Silver Slipper. What better way for the shopkeeper to hide his visit to the hog ranch than by attacking another place of prostitution? Chester Gates also had a beef related to the dance hall. The owner, Scottie Fife, had outbid him for some prime land. Whoever owned the property would make a fortune if the railroad expanded its headquarters.

Matt had taken “Go! Go! Go!” to be a command, but perhaps it had been a calling card. Everyone in Cheyenne knew G.O. stood for “Golden Order.” If these men had gone bad—a strong possibility, Matt had seen corruption in Texas—they had to be stopped before innocent people suffered.

Matt knew the cost of such violence and not as a victim. As long as he lived, he’d be ashamed of what he’d done in Virginia. Until that night, he’d been a man who prayed. Not anymore. He looked at Dan. “We need to keep an eye on the Golden Order.”

“I agree.” The deputy gave a sad shake of his head. “Jed Jones was a liar and a thief, but he didn’t deserve a necktie party.”

A lynching… Matt’s blood turned to ice. With every nerve in his body, he wished someone had stopped him and his men the night they’d tossed a rope over the branch of a tree. He couldn’t change what had happened to Amos McGuckin, but he could stop it from happening again. “We’ll stop these men. The only question is how.”

“Any ideas?”

“Not yet, but I’ll figure it out.”

Dan went to fetch his hat. “We won’t catch anyone sitting in the office. I’m going to take a walk.”

“Watch your step,” Matt replied.

As Dan passed Matt’s desk, he noticed the letters and put his hand over his heart. “Romeo…Romeo…”

“Shut up,” Matt joked.

Dan put on his hat. “You ought to take one of those ladies to see Romeo and Juliet at the Manhattan.”

The new theater offered fine plays and bad acting. The performance of Romeo and Juliet was said to be particularly awful. “Forget it,” Matt answered.

Chuckling, Dan walked out of the office, leaving Matt alone with the notes. He knew what the one from Carrie would say. Yesterday she’d invited him to bring Sarah to have supper with some cousins of hers, a minister and his daughter arriving from Denver. He figured the daughter was a little girl who liked to play with dolls. The note would be a reminder to come at six o’clock. The thought of an evening with a minister set Matt’s teeth on edge, but he could tolerate anything for a couple of hours. Except church, he reminded himself. He hadn’t set foot in a house of God for ten years, and he didn’t plan to change his habits.

He ignored Carrie’s letter and lifted the one from Pearl. He liked how she’d called him Deputy Matt, echoing the way he’d signed the card with the ribbons. Pleased, he peeled off the wax and read.

Dear Deputy Matt and Sarah,

Thank you for the beautiful ribbons. I’ve never seen lovelier shades of blue and will enjoy them very much. You’ve made a newcomer to Cheyenne feel welcome indeed.

Regards, Miss Pearl

Below the curly writing, she’d added a P.S. in block printing. It read, “Sarah, if you’d like me to braid your hair again, I’d be happy to do it.”

His daughter couldn’t read the words, but she’d know the letters.

Matt read the letter again, grinning like a fool because he’d charmed Miss Pearl out of her shell. Why he cared, he didn’t know. Not only did she have blond hair, he’d been straight with Dan when he said marriage wasn’t for him.

He opened the note from Carrie and saw exactly what he expected. Her cousins had arrived and were coming for supper. Good, he thought. Sarah needed a friend.

Matt glanced at the clock. He had a couple of hours before he had to be at Carrie’s house, so he opened the office ledger and recorded his conversation with Jasper. If vigilantes were at work in Cheyenne, they had to be stopped. And if Jasper and Gates were behind it, they had to be brought to justice. Matt wished someone had stopped him that night. He wished for a lot of things he couldn’t have…a mother for Sarah, a good night’s sleep. Maybe someday he’d be able to forget. Until then, he had a job to do.