Читать книгу Wyoming Lawman - Victoria Bylin - Страница 11

As the hired carriage neared her cousin’s house, Pearl considered the neighborhood. Cheyenne still had the ragged feel of a frontier town, but railroad executives and entrepreneurs had brought their families with the hope of bringing a touch of civility. Carrie’s father had been among the Union Pacific leaders. An engineer by trade, Carlton Hart had built a fine house for his wife and daughter. Tragically, he’d died two years ago in a blasting accident. A few months later, his wife had succumbed to influenza.

Rather than go back east, Carrie had taken a position at Miss Marlowe’s School for Girls. Pearl hoped to carve out a similar place for herself, but she had no illusions about her chances. Toby, swaddled in blue and snug in her arms, called her character into question. Some people would gossip about her out-of-wedlock child. Others would shun her. She knew from her experience in Denver that only a few would be kind. Without Carrie’s support, Pearl didn’t have a chance of being hired as a teacher.

As the carriage rolled to a halt, her father touched her arm. “You can still change your mind about explaining to Carrie. I’ll talk to her first.”

“No, Papa.”

She hadn’t come to Cheyenne to be a coward. If she couldn’t face her cousin, how could she manage an interview with the trustees of Mrs. Marlowe’s School? Meeting Carrie would be good practice. That’s why she’d worn her second-best dress, a blue-gray silk with a lace jabot. For added courage, she’d tied three of Deputy Matt’s ribbons into a fancy bow and pinned them to her hat. Not only did they complement her dress, they also matched Toby’s baby blanket.

Tobias climbed out of the carriage, paid the driver and offered his hand. “Are you ready, princess?”

She wished he’d stop using the nickname. It made her feel small when she needed to be adult. She’d have spoken up, but her father looked as nervous as she felt. Being careful not to jostle Toby, she took her father’s hand and climbed out of the carriage. The door to the house opened and she saw a young woman with a heart-shaped face and brown hair arranged in a neat chignon.

“Pearl! Uncle Tobias!” Beaming with pleasure, Carrie hurried down the path. “I’m so glad you’re—” She stopped in midstep, staring at the bundle in Pearl’s arms. “You have a baby.”

“I do.”

Her brows knit in confusion. “I didn’t know you were married.”

“I’m not.” Pearl took a breath. “I wanted to tell you in person. A letter just didn’t…I couldn’t…” She bit her lip to keep from rambling.

As Carrie stared in shock, Pearl fought to stay calm. First reactions, even bad ones, meant nothing. She had them all the time, especially to men who reminded her of Franklin Dean. A person’s second response was what mattered.

Carrie’s gaze dipped to the baby, lingered, then went back to Pearl. She didn’t speak, but her eyes held questions.

Pearl didn’t want to explain herself in the street. She wanted the privacy of four walls, the dignity she’d been denied by the man who’d taken her virtue. Thinking of the ribbons on her hat, a declaration of her courage, she squared her shoulders. “I’ll explain everything, but could we go inside?”

Carrie touched her arm. “It’ll be all right, cousin.”

Pearl’s throat tightened.

“Whatever happened, we’re family.”

“You don’t even know—”

“I know you,” Carrie insisted. “We’ve been writing for months now. Besides, our mothers were sisters.”

Tears pushed into Pearl’s eyes. No matter what happened, she had a friend.

“Don’t cry,” Carrie said. “You’ll get all puffy.”

As if being puffy were the worst of her problems… Pearl laughed out loud. She tried to speak but hiccupped instead. As she covered her mouth, Carrie pulled her into a hug. The gesture shot Pearl back to Swan’s Nest where Adie Clarke, now Adie Blue, had opened her home and her heart. Mary, another boarder, had taught Pearl to be bold. Bessie and Caroline had delivered her baby and proved that a faithful woman could survive any heartache.

Courage, from her friends and from the ribbons, gave her the strength to spell out the facts for Carrie. “I was attacked by a man I trusted. I refuse to call him Toby’s father.”

Carrie hugged her as hard as she could. “You poor dear!”

Eager to get past the ugliness, Pearl blurted the facts. She’d gone for a buggy ride with Franklin Dean, the man she’d expected to marry. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, he forced himself on her and left her with child. He’d demanded marriage, but Pearl had refused. Instead she’d taken refuge at Swan’s Nest, a boarding house for women in trouble.

By the time she finished the story, Carrie had guided her up the steps and into the foyer. Her father had followed at a distance, giving them time to talk. As he approached, Pearl gave him a watery smile. “We’re going to be all right.”

“More than all right,” Carrie insisted.

Relief brightened Tobias’s silvery eyes, but the creases edging his mouth had deepened. “We’re grateful to you, Carrie.”

The brunette waved off the praise. “We’ll talk about the school over supper. I’ve invited a friend. I hope that’s all right.”

“Of course.” Pearl loved the women at Swan’s Nest. She hoped to make good friends in Cheyenne.

Her cousin’s eyes sparkled. “His name is Matt Wiley.”

Pearl gasped.

“Don’t worry.” Carrie reached for her hand. “I know you’re in a delicate situation, but Matt’s not one to judge. He might even help us. His little girl goes to Miss Marlowe’s.”

Tobias touched Pearl’s back. “We’ve met Deputy Wiley.”

“You have?” Carrie’s brows arched.

As Tobias told the story about the freight wagon, Pearl’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, not with humility at his praise, but because of the note she’d sent. The ribbons had been a thank-you, nothing more. Even worse, she’d flirted with a man her cousin seemed to like. Deputy Matt—Deputy Wiley, she reminded herself—would be here any minute. The ribbons had to come off her hat now.

She turned to Carrie. “I need to check Toby. Is there a place—”

Three knocks rattled the door.

“That’s Matt.” Forgetting Pearl, Carrie flung the door wide. Light fanned across her full cheeks, revealing faint freckles and the smitten glow of a woman in love. Pearl wondered if she’d ever feel a similar pleasure in a man’s presence. Envy at Carrie’s innocence ripped through her, but she shoved it away.

With a blush on her cheeks, Carrie stepped back to make room for the deputy and his daughter. “Come in,” she said. “I want you to meet my cousins.”

In a feeble attempt to hide her hat, Pearl moved closer to the coat rack. Maybe Matt Wiley wouldn’t notice the ribbons. Maybe the clerk had been slow to deliver the note and she could get it back.

Sarah came through the door first. Carrie crouched to hug her, but the little girl stopped short. Unruffled, Carrie touched the doll in Sarah’s arms. “You brought Annie. She looks pretty today.”

Sarah scowled. “She’s mine.”

“Of course, she is,” Carrie said gently.

Pearl ached for them both. Her cousin plainly cared for the man and his daughter. Sarah, though, probably saw her as a rival. Pearl knew how she felt. When a child lost a mother, life became fragile. When Carrie straightened, Sarah spotted Pearl, cried out with delight and ran to hug her knees. Pearl shot Carrie a look of apology. When her cousin forced a smile, Pearl knew they’d be as close as sisters. They thought alike. They loved alike.

Pearl smoothed Sarah’s hair. Smiling, she made her voice bright. “Did you know Miss Carrie’s my cousin?”

“What’s that?” Sarah asked.

“It means we’re family, and I like her very much. She likes you, too.”

Pearl glanced at Carrie for approval. Her cousin mouthed “Thank you,” then crouched next to Sarah. “I like Annie, but I know she’s yours.”

Sarah stayed by Pearl, but she held up the doll for Carrie to see. “Her dress got dirty, but I changed it.”

“You did a good job, darlin’.”

That Texas drawl could only belong to one man. Knowing she’d be looking into Matt Wiley’s green eyes, Pearl dragged her gaze upward. Just as she feared, he was staring at the bow she’d made from the ribbons. She forced a nonchalant smile. “Good evening, Deputy.”

He took off his hat with a gallant sweep of his arm. His hair, a bit shaggy, touched the collar of a green shirt topped with a dark vest. “Good evening. It’s a pleasure…again.”

The scent of bay rum tickled her nose. So did the lingering smell of lye soap. Did he have a housekeeper, or did he send his clothes to the laundry? The thought twisted in her mind until it formed a hard knot of truth. She had no business wondering about Matt Wiley’s laundry.

He stepped deeper into the entry hall and reached back to close the door. As he turned, the vest pulled across his broad chest. With six people in the small space, including Toby in her arms, she had nowhere to hide. Deputy Wiley’s gaze landed on her son, lingering while he grappled with his thoughts on her marital status. Gurgling, Toby scooted up her chest like an inchworm. She loved it when he moved against her, and she smiled in spite of the awkward moment. As she shifted the baby’s weight, the deputy watched her son with a father’s knowing smile. She wondered if he’d held Sarah the same way.

Carrie straightened. “You’ve met, but I should finish introductions. Matt, this is my cousin Pearl and her father, Reverend Tobias Oliver.”

Tobias held out his hand. “Good evening, Deputy.”

As the men shook hands, Pearl tried to signal Carrie for a place to remove her hat. Her cousin didn’t notice. She had eyes only for Sarah and was already leading the little girl into the parlor.

When Matt broke his grip, Tobias offered his arm to Pearl. “Shall we join Carrie?”

Before she could reply, Deputy Wiley spoke in a low tone to her father. “If you don’t mind, sir. I’d like a word with your daughter.”

Tobias wrinkled his brow. “I don’t think—”

Pearl interrupted. “It’s all right, Papa.” She wanted a word with him, too. If he’d received her note, she needed to make her position clear. She’d been completely unaware of his interest in Carrie and her cousin’s claim on him. She’d still braid Sarah’s hair, but she’d invite Carrie to join them.

As Tobias stepped into the parlor, Deputy Wiley glanced again at her hat. “I see you got the ribbons.”

“Yes. They’re lovely.”

Using a quiet tone, one meant for Pearl alone, he said, “I got your note.”

He’d spoken as if they had a secret, a thought that shamed her because of Carrie. She had to make her loyalty clear. “My thank-you note,” she said.

“Exactly.” He looked relieved. “Since I sent the ribbons to thank you, and you sent the note to thank me, I’d say we understand each other.”

Pearl sagged with relief. “Yes. Of course. We certainly do. Thank you…again.”

Why was she babbling? And why were his eyes twinkling with pleasure? She didn’t know, but she sensed goodness in this man. If it weren’t for Carrie, she wouldn’t have regretted the note at all. She’d have mustered her courage and gone after Deputy Matt Wiley with her best smile. But that could never be. Not only did Carrie have a claim on him, Pearl was damaged goods and she knew it.

Pearl’s discomfort hit Matt with surprising force. He didn’t know why he felt compelled to protect her dignity, but he knew the impulse went beyond gratitude. He liked her. Unless he’d lost his instincts concerning women, she’d needed courage to add the P.S. to the thank-you note. Like a lot of the folks in Cheyenne, she’d probably come to Wyoming for a fresh start. Looking at the baby, he thought he knew why but wanted to be sure.

The blue blanket clued him to the child’s gender. “Is that your son?”

“Yes.”

“He’s a cute little fellow. What’s his name?”

“Toby.” She raised her chin, daring him to ask the obvious question.

He spoke gently. “And your husband?”

“I don’t have one.”

So the preacher’s daughter had skipped “I do” and gone straight to “I will.” Matt didn’t hold it against her. His own slate had enough marks to cover a barn.

With a baby in her arms and no husband, she had a good reason to be reserved. People would judge her to be lacking in moral character. The ribbons on her hat told him she had even more courage than he’d guessed. He felt bad about discouraging a friendship, but it had to be done. That’s why he’d asked for a private word. She deserved to know he’d been flattered by her interest, but she wouldn’t be braiding Sarah’s hair.

The baby in her arms made a funny squeak. The sound reminded him of Sarah as an infant and he grinned. “He’s lively, isn’t he?”

“Very.”

With her blue eyes and tilted chin, she reminded him of the picture of Cinderella in Sarah’s book of fairy tales. He blinked and imagined a white coach and glass slippers, a prince chasing after her and mice turning into dashing white horses. His mind went down a long, strange road before he pulled himself back to the entry hall.

Pearl jiggled the baby. “We should join the others.”

As he motioned for her to lead the way, Carrie came back from the parlor. She smiled at Matt, then focused on Pearl. “There’s a guest room behind the stairwell. You can tend the baby there.”

As Pearl went down the hall, Matt watched the ripple of her silver-blue dress, thought again of Cinderella and scowled. He had no business thinking about glass slippers and Pearl in the same breath. He’d been a lousy husband to Bettina, and he’d doubtlessly make the same mistakes if he ever lost his mind and remarried. As much as Sarah wanted a mother, she’d have to make do with Mrs. Holcombe, the widow who lived across the street from them. Mrs. Holcombe loved Sarah and treated her like a granddaughter.

“Matt?”

He turned back to Carrie and saw a sweet smile. He truly appreciated the interest she’d taken in Sarah. The preacher’s daughter hadn’t been a little girl like he’d expected, but Sarah would enjoy a fancy dinner with feminine touches. He could see why Dan liked Carrie. She had a good heart and generous nature. And his friend had no reservations about marriage.

Pleased for Dan, he felt good as Carrie led him into the parlor. She sat on the divan, so he took the armchair next to Reverend Oliver. Sarah sat at his feet with her doll in her lap, talking to Annie as if she were a real girl. Her loneliness punched Matt in the gut. So did Pearl’s arrival in the parlor. Instead of the hat and ribbons, he saw a braid wrapped so tight he wondered if her scalp hurt.

Holding Toby, she scanned the room for a place to sit. Carrie patted the divan. “Sit with me. I want to hold the baby.”

Pearl sat and handed over her son. Cuddling him, Carrie looked at Matt and smiled. He liked babies, so he smiled back. He wanted Pearl to know he didn’t hold her indiscretion against her, so he studied Toby a long time, then said, “He looks like you.”

When she beamed a mother’s smile, Matt recalled the joy of being a family. For a short time, life with Bettina had been good. Pearl made him long for things he couldn’t have, things he didn’t want because he’d be a bad husband. At the same time, he enjoyed pulling her out of her shell. Wise or not, he wanted to know more about her. As the four of them chatted about the train ride from Denver, Matt gauged her expression. When she looked relaxed, he ventured a question.

“What brings you to Cheyenne?” He’d addressed the question to both Pearl and her father, but his gaze stayed on Pearl.

When she stiffened, Carrie answered for her. “Pearl’s going to teach at Miss Marlowe’s School.”

“That sounds rewarding.”

“I hope so.” She knotted her hands in her lap. “I don’t have the job yet. I’ll be interviewed first.”

“You’ll do fine.” Carrie patted Toby’s back. “The interview with the school board is next Tuesday. That’ll give us time to meet with Miss Marlowe. She’s going to love you.”

“You’ll do great,” Matt added.

He tugged on Sarah’s braid, a reminder to Pearl that she’d risked her life for a child. At the same moment, Toby fussed. The cry brought another truth to light. A single woman with an out-of-wedlock baby would have some explaining to do. He didn’t know if the people of Cheyenne would look past her indiscretion. Matt wanted to help her and he had the means. If he wrote a letter describing how she’d saved Sarah, surely the board would see her true character and forgive her past mistakes.

When Pearl cooed to soothe him, the baby wiggled and reached for her. Carrie scooted toward Pearl and handed him back. “I think he wants his mama.”

Pearl propped Toby against her shoulder. In spite of the difficulty the baby posed, her smile turned radiant. Matt’s belly clenched again. Pearl loved her son far more than Bettina had loved Sarah.

Carrie stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll check with the cook about supper.”

“Can I help?” Pearl asked

“No, but Sarah can.” Carrie smiled at his daughter, still glued to his leg. “Would you and Annie like to see what’s for dessert?”

Sarah needed all the female attention she could get, so he patted her back. “Go on, sweetheart.”

“Don’t tell your daddy.” Carrie feigned a whisper. “But I baked cookies. I don’t think tasting just one will spoil your supper.”

Ah, temptation! The war waged on Sarah’s face until the cookie won. She pushed to her feet. “I like cookies.”

With Annie in tow, she crossed the parlor. Carrie guided her out the door, leaving Matt to consider how different this day could have been. If Sarah had been hit by the freight wagon, he’d have been burying her instead of waiting for a good meal. He’d thanked Pearl with the ribbons, but he still owed her a favor. The interview at Miss Marlowe’s School gave him an opportunity and he decided to take it.

“I don’t know how much it will help,” he said. “But I’d be glad to write a letter to the trustees about what happened today. We haven’t been acquainted long, but what you did proves you’ll be a good teacher.”

She bristled. “Thank you, Deputy. But no.”

“Why not?”

“My situation is…complicated.”

He’d figured that out already. “So?”

Tobias cleared his throat. “Why would you offer? You barely know my daughter.”

“I know her better than you think.” Matt spoke to the reverend but kept his eyes on Pearl. “Not many people would do what she did today. I owe her.” He’d told the truth, but there was more to his reasoning. Guilt for what he’d done in the war never left him. Every time he helped someone, his conscience eased a bit. By helping Pearl, he’d sleep tonight instead of tossing like he usually did.

She looked at him with hope and hesitation. “I appreciate the offer. It’s just that…” She shook her head.

“You want your privacy,” he finished for her.

“Yes.”

“I understand about private matters.” He flashed a grin he hoped would be roguish. “If you don’t ask questions, neither will I.”

If Pearl knew he didn’t hold her son against her, maybe she’d accept his help. If she accepted his help, he could feel good about paying her back. He didn’t know who had fathered her baby, or why the man hadn’t married her, but he knew how it felt to live with a bad decision. Hoping to persuade her, he gentled his voice. “I’m not the most influential man in Cheyenne. The letter might not change any minds, but it won’t hurt, either.”

Pearl looked at her father.

He gave a crisp nod. “Say yes, princess.”

Matt smiled at the nickname. He didn’t like ministers, but he was impressed by Reverend Oliver. The man clearly loved his daughter in spite of her mistake. Pearl, though, looked mildly irked at the childish moniker.

She turned to Matt. “Thank you, Deputy. I accept.”

“My pleasure.”

She smiled, then blushed and looked away as if she’d committed a crime. Matt had no idea what she was thinking, but he liked knowing he could make her grin…and blush. The thought gave him pause. He had no business flirting with Pearl Oliver, except he liked her and she’d worn his ribbons. Not only did she make him want to whistle “Dixie,” he admired her integrity. Matt didn’t know what to make of his wayward thoughts, but he couldn’t deny a simple truth. He liked Pearl Oliver far more than was wise.