скачать книгу бесплатно
“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.
Chapter Three
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.”
