Wyoming Lawman

by Victoria Bylin

  When Tobias sat at the head of the table, Pearl cleared her throat. “Father?”

  “Yes, princess?”

  She hid a cringe. “Would you say grace?”

  “Of course.”

  The Lord already knew Pearl appreciated the food on the table. She needed provision of another kind, so she asked God for peace, good will and the discipline to keep her eyes off Matt Wiley. He provided those mercies right up until dessert.

  Chapter Eleven

  Matt should have seen the trouble coming, but he’d missed the signs. If he’d been alert, he’d have realized Carrie liked him…a lot. Enough to bump his foot under the table. Enough to brush against his arm every time she passed the potatoes.

  Dan must have noticed her interest, because he’d shot daggers at Matt all through the meal. Matt had shot back a few of his own. Twice Dan had made Pearl smile at a stupid joke. When she’d tipped her head with pleasure, jealousy had ripped from one side of Matt’s chest to the other. He wanted Pearl to look at him that way, but that was crazy. He had no business courting any woman, especially a preacher’s daughter. To add to his frustration, Carrie had honed in on his conversation with Tobias. Matt had planned to invite him for a cigar after dessert, but he hadn’t gotten the chance. Considering Carrie’s persistence, he doubted he would.

  The entire evening had been filled with frustration. Instead of leaving tonight with Tobias as a new ally, he’d have to figure out another way to speak with the man. He also had to make his position clear to Carrie without hurting her feelings. As for Pearl, he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her. If he slept at all tonight, he’d be dreaming of Cinderella with ribbons in her hair.

  He’d had about all he could take when the maid came through the kitchen door carrying a serving plate in each hand.

  “Dessert’s here!” Carrie said brightly.

  Matt joined the others in admiring the sweets. One plate held a chocolate cake. It looked simple and tasty. The other tray showed off cream puffs dusted with sugar. Tasty or not, they were too complicated for his simple ways. He had his heart set on the cake, but Carrie put a pastry in front of him.

  “I made the cream puffs,” she said proudly. “It’s a family recipe.”

  Matt tried not to scowl at the pastry. After Pearl and Carrie finished serving the desserts, everyone lifted their forks. He tried to slice a bite of the cream puff, but the filling squished out the sides. He sawed with his knife but got nowhere. When he pushed harder, the pastry shot off the plate and landed in his lap.

  Dan laughed out loud.

  Pearl pressed her napkin to her mouth, but her eyes were dancing. Matt figured the joke was on him. If it made Pearl smile, he didn’t mind. As their eyes met, his lips curved into a smile.

  Carrie gasped. “Oh no! They’re overbaked!”

  Muttering apologies, he wrapped the mess in his napkin and stood to take it to the kitchen. As he turned, the tablecloth came with him and he realized he’d caught it in the napkin. Chocolate cake landed in Carrie’s lap, and coffee spilled all over the pink dress. Pearl and Amy jumped up to steady the candles. Everywhere Matt looked, he saw sloshing coffee and crooked plates. He also had custard on his coat.

  “Sorry,” he muttered.

  Dan cackled. “Man, you’re a klutz!”

  “Thanks, buddy.” Matt sounded wry, but he meant it. Someone had to put the levity back into the evening and he couldn’t do it. Carrie was close to tears, and Pearl looked nearly as upset as she darted around the table to help Carrie. He almost said he’d pay for all the laundering, but the words shot him back to the day they’d met. A lot had changed since that moment. Blond hair no longer made him crazy, and he felt a tug in his heart he’d never expected to feel again…a tug he didn’t want to feel. Not only had he been a terrible husband, he also knew the sting of a woman’s betrayal. Except Pearl would never betray anyone. She had a good heart, too good for the likes of him.

  The women were all furiously blotting the dress, so he wadded the napkin and carried it to the kitchen. With the meal done, the cook had left. The hired girl was alone with a basin of steaming water and a mountain of dishes.

  As the door clicked shut, she looked up and saw the blotch on his coat. “I’ll get you a towel, sir.”

  “Thank you.”

  She opened a cupboard, saw the empty shelf and excused herself. “I’ll be right back.”

  Matt dumped the cream puff in a garbage pail without regret. He didn’t care for cream puffs. He liked chocolate cake, blue ribbons and women who took care of others. Sighing, he found a rag, dabbed at his coat and made an even bigger mess.

  The door opened and Pearl entered with the plate of chocolate cake in one hand and the leftover cream puffs in the other. She set the desserts down, then glanced at him with a mix of mirth and worry. The spill didn’t bother her at all, but she cared about Carrie and her cousin had been terribly embarrassed. He shook his head. “Sorry about the mess.”

  “It’s all right,” she answered. “We can clean it up.”

  “Maybe.”

  She tipped her head. “What do you mean?”

  “I have a bigger mess than a cream puff.” He looked Pearl in the eye. “Tonight meant a lot to Carrie, didn’t it?”

  She said nothing.

  “More than I knew, I’m afraid.”

  When her eyes widened into moons. Matt knew a simple truth. Not only couldn’t Pearl Oliver tell a lie, but she also couldn’t keep a secret, either. He hadn’t imagined Carrie’s flirting. She’d set her cap for him, and she’d set it hard. His stomach churned and not from the meal. Not once had he thought of Carrie as more than Sarah’s teacher. It was Pearl who filled his thoughts and made him crazy. The thought of coming between these two good women upset him.

  He shook his head. “I didn’t know she’d gotten ideas. I thought—”

  “Your coat’s a mess,” Pearl said. “I’ll get a damp cloth.”

  She turned her back, a sign she wouldn’t talk about her cousin. Out of respect, he said nothing as she dampened a dish towel at the sink. With her eyes still averted, she handed it to him. “Here.”

  The awkwardness irked him. They hadn’t done anything wrong. He valued Pearl’s friendship and didn’t want to lose it. Being stubborn, he let the towel dangle between them. When she finally looked at him, he indicated the flap of his coat. “I’ll make it worse. Would you mind?”

  She hesitated, then came closer. With her eyes on the coat, she put one hand behind the smear and dabbed at it with the towel. When she bent her neck to get a better view, he smelled her flowery soap. He told himself to look away from her ivory skin. He didn’t have to see the ribbon above her ear. He didn’t have to touch it. He could do the right thing and step back, except stepping back felt all wrong. He cared for Pearl and knew she had scars. He wanted her to feel pretty again, so he touched the silky ribbon above her ear.

  Startled, she looked up. She didn’t pull away, but her eyes had a wild shine and she looked ready to bolt.

  “Sorry.” Matt lowered his hand. “I thought I recognized the ribbon.”

  “You did, but it’s just a ribbon.” Her voice came out high and thin, as if she were trying to convince herself more than him. He thought of Sarah’s reaction when she’d caught him talking to himself. He’d told her to pretend she hadn’t heard, but she had. Matt wanted to pretend he didn’t know Pearl’s thoughts, but he did. She liked him as much as he liked her. She also loved Carrie and felt loyal to her cousin.

  She turned abruptly to the wash basin. “That’s the best I can do.”

  Matt glanced down. The coat looked new.

  Pearl rinsed the towel, then went to work scraping the plates. Matt wanted to talk some more, but he had no business being with Pearl until he squared things with Carrie. He didn’t know exactly how he’d do it, but he’d find a way to protect her dignity.

  He headed for the door. “Thanks for your help,” he said to her back. “I better talk to Carrie.”
>
  The dishes stopped rattling, but Pearl didn’t turn. “She’s upstairs. Everyone went home.”

  Matt stopped at the door. He and Pearl were alone. The serving girl would be back, but they could sit in the dining room. They could share a piece of chocolate cake. He could talk to her in the candlelight and no one would know, which was why he had to leave. He knew from experience that secrets had dangerous consequences. “Tell Carrie I said thanks for supper.”

  “Of course.”

  As he opened the door, she pivoted. “Wait. I have something for Sarah.”

  She dried her hands, then cut two generous slices of cake and put them on a plate. After wrapping the dessert with a towel, she handed it to him. “There’s a piece of you, too.”

  “Thank you.” With the cake in hand, he paused at the door. “Good night, Pearl.”

  “Good night, Matt.”

  He shut the door behind him, but he couldn’t block the echo of her voice in his mind. He’d be hearing it when he ate that chocolate cake, and he’d be touching that blue ribbon in his dreams. As soon as he could, he’d square things with Carrie, but then what? He couldn’t deny his feelings for Pearl, but neither could he court a preacher’s daughter. With the cake in hand, Matt left with his stomach in a knot. He had some thinking to do, and he’d doubtlessly be doing it all night long.

  Pearl helped the serving girl clean the kitchen, then she climbed the stairs and tapped softly on Carrie’s door. The quiet sobbing ceased, but Carrie didn’t call for her to come in. Knowing the need for privacy, Pearl extinguished the wall sconce and went to her room. There she lit a lamp, checked on Toby and sat at the vanity.

  Her eyes went to the ribbon above her ear, the one Matt had touched. She’d ignored him all through supper, but then the cream puff had skittered and she’d seen the shock on his face. She’d wanted to laugh with him, and that’s when she’d admitted a frightening truth. If it weren’t for Carrie, she’d be willing to go down a dangerous path.

  What if…

  She closed her eyes to block the fearful yearning, but she saw Matt’s face. She recalled his Texas drawl and the minty scent of his skin. From the day they’d met, she’d fought her feelings. She’d prayed. She’d stifled her thoughts and denied her dreams. She’d done everything she could to fight her fear of men and to protect Carrie, but she couldn’t stop her heart from leaping when Matt looked into her eyes. She couldn’t stop herself from yearning for the things she deeply feared. A husband…affection…a father for Toby.

  Pearl wept into her palms. Her friends at Swan’s Nest would have understood. Adie had lived with a secret and knew the cost. Mary knew how to fake a smile. Bessie, a nurse, would have made tea and listened to her woes. Caroline, the victim of a forbidden love, would have cried with her.

  Lifting her face, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Tomorrow she’d be a friend to Carrie. But how? What could she say? She’d stopped Matt from talking, but she knew what he’d been about to say. He didn’t have feelings for Carrie and never would.

  Would her cousin accept the truth? Pearl hoped so, but love couldn’t be easily denied. She knew, because she felt the seeds of it growing in her own heart. The seeds had to be plucked out, so she lifted her hand to her hair and loosened the ribbon. She pulled it free, laid it flat on the vanity, then rolled it tight. As the silk warmed with her touch, she placed it in the back of the drawer, far from the ribbons she wore every day.

  She’d never forget this night. When he’d touched her hair, she’d almost swooned and not from panic. The panic had come an instant later. Had it started because of his touch? Or when she thought of Carrie? She didn’t know. The way things stood, she’d never find out. It hurt, but a small thought gave her comfort. Because of Matt’s touch, the ribbons were special again.

  Chapter Twelve

  Matt set the cake on the counter and asked Mrs. Holcombe to stay a few more hours. The revelation about Carrie and the private moment with Pearl had left him tense, and he couldn’t shake a feeling of dread. If the Golden Order planned to strike, tonight seemed likely. Full of Saturday night revelers, Ferguson Street made an appealing target. When Mrs. Holcombe agreed to stay, he changed clothes and climbed back on his horse.

  As he rode across town, the wind sent leaves skittering down the street. The air was rarely still in Cheyenne, and tonight the rush matched his mood. Pearl had him all stirred up. So did the black derby Jasper had removed from the display window. A message had been sent, and Matt was worried. With each attack on the Silver Slipper, the G.O. had become bolder. Broken glass had become broken bones. Neither could he forget Jed Jones. The man’s thievery had led to a broken neck.

  Brokenness…Matt knew all about it. Shuddering, he thought back to the night his own life had been shattered. Good intentions had gone awry and he’d done the unthinkable on a humid night in Virginia. Riding down the street now, he recalled arriving at Amos McGuckin’s farm with his men. He remembered the haze of the smoky torches, the orange glow against an inky sky. He blinked and smelled smoke. He coughed, and his eyes burned. It was too real to be a dream. Fire bells cut through the night and he knew…the Golden Order had gone from breaking bones to burning down buildings.

  Six blocks away the sky took on an orange glow. Matt kneed his gelding into a gallop. If he hadn’t been at Carrie’s party, he’d have been patrolling Ferguson Street when the fire started. He might have seen the riders running off at a gallop.

  Nothing struck fear in the citizens of Cheyenne like fire. The wooden buildings stood side by side and were as dry as tinder. As the crowd in the street thickened, he slowed his horse. A block away he saw the Silver Slipper being swallowed alive by flames. Like an animal breathing its last, the building roared as the roof collapsed into flaming rubble. He hoped no one was inside, because there would be no survivors.

  As he passed through the crowd, he spotted a cluster of women from Scottie’s place. Scottie, still bruised and using a cane, stood apart from them. A black patch covered his damaged eye. Matt rode over to the saloon owner and dismounted. “What happened?”

  Scottie stared at the flames. “They killed her.”

  Matt’s belly knotted. “Who?”

  “Katy.”

  An oath spewed from his lips. Where was God when the Golden Order set the fire? Why hadn’t he saved the sweet, innocent woman who only wanted to go home?

  Scottie pounded the ground with his cane. “She didn’t deserve to die.”

  “I liked her,” Matt said simply. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry?” The female voice came out of the dark.

  He turned and saw Lizzy sweeping in his direction. Ashes were clinging to her skimpy gown, and soot had painted shadows on her face. Matt didn’t blame her for being angry. Being sorry wouldn’t bring Katy back to life anymore than Matt could change what had happened in Virginia. He steeled himself for a lambasting, maybe a slap across the jaw.

  Lizzy shuddered. “I couldn’t find her. I looked everywhere. She-she—” The woman burst into tears.

  The women crowded around her like a flock of nervous birds. A scrawny blonde glared at him from over her shoulder. “We were already out when we saw her in the window. She must have gone back for Scottie, but I’d helped him downstairs.”

  Scottie surveyed the pile of smoldering timbers. “I’d like to kill those—”

  “Me, too!” Lizzy cried.

  Matt felt the same way, but he wouldn’t give in to the anger. “I figure this is arson.”

  Scottie snorted. “Good work, Deputy.”

  Matt ignored the sarcasm. “Did you see anything?”

  “What do you think?” Scottie stared at him with his one good eye.

  Matt turned to the women. “Ladies?”

  A blonde raised her voice. “I saw them.”

  “Who?” Matt asked.

  “The men in black derbies.” She started to weep. “They had torches and were threatening to burn us out. Sparks were flying everywhere. I
ran to get the others…and Katy.” The girl broke into sobs. Lizzy hugged her tight and glared at Matt.

  “What are you going to do to stop them?” she demanded. “Katy was just plain good. She was going home. She—”

  Matt cut her off. “I know.”

  A redhead glared at the remains of the Silver Slipper. “I lost everything. The picture of my baby—” She burst into tears.

  “They should hang for this!” Lizzy cried.

  Matt tended to agree. Anyone playing with fire on a windy night deserved to swing high and fast. The thought gave him pause. If he wasn’t careful, he’d become what he loathed.

  His gaze narrowed to the dying embers. An innocent woman had died a horrible death, and it had happened on his watch. With his blood flowing hot and bitter, he got down to business. Tonight that meant linking the men in black derbies to the members of the Golden Order. The masked riders had disappeared into the night, but someone could be observing on their behalf.

  Matt surveyed the crowd. Most of the men had joined the bucket brigade, but they were losing the battle with the spreading flames. A second saloon had turned into a flaming skeleton, and the dance hall next to it would soon follow. Matt spotted the fire marshal, Bill “Crawdad” Pine, manning the steam engine. The city had invested a fortune in the fancy equipment, but the wagon had arrived too late to save the Silver Slipper. Judging by the wind, the rest of the block would suffer the same fate. All the businesses were of a tawdry nature, but that didn’t ease Matt’s conscience. An innocent woman had died tonight. Considering the extent of the blaze, he feared others had died with her.

  He studied every face in the crowd. Most of the people were strangers or regulars on Ferguson Street, but a particular man—Chester Gates—didn’t belong. The banker lived on the other side of town. Why was he speaking to the fire marshal? Looking at him now, Matt recalled his interest in the prime land purchased by Scottie Fife. If the G.O. forced Scottie to sell the property, Gates would cash in. Sensing trouble, Matt led his horse toward the men and called a greeting.