And they could be deceptive. Franklin Dean had been a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Jasper didn’t strike Pearl as a wolf, but neither was he a pillar of honesty. In the meeting he’d said one thing and done another. The man couldn’t be trusted. Her gut told her to walk out of the store, but her next thought was more practical. He’d offered her good hours and a reasonable salary. She needed the job.
“I’d like to accept the position,” she said to both men.
Her father hesitated, then nodded his agreement. Jasper acknowledged her with an awkward bow from the waist. “I’ll see you tomorrow at nine o’clock.”
“I’ll be here.”
Her father extended his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Kling.”
As the men shook, the shopkeeper bobbed his head. “Please, call me Jasper.”
“Then I’m Tobias.”
Pearl sagged with relief. A job…. She had a job!
As she silently celebrated, the men made small talk. Her father and Mr. Kling discovered they both enjoyed chess, and they shared a deep concern for the moral climate of Cheyenne. Before they left the store, Mr. Kling invited her father to a meeting of something called the Golden Order and he accepted. Pearl welcomed her father’s involvement. His heart condition limited his ability to work, but he needed a purpose. Joining the Golden Order would give him a chance to make friends in Cheyenne.
When they left the shop, she put Toby back in his carriage and hugged her father hard. “We’re going to be fine, Papa. I know it.”
“So do I, princess.”
Today the nickname didn’t bother her at all.
Matt didn’t usually work Saturday nights. He claimed the privilege as a family man and left Saturdays to men without children. Tonight he’d enjoyed a quiet evening with Sarah. They’d played checkers—he let her win—then he’d read her a story and put her to bed. Knowing he wouldn’t sleep, he sat staring into the fire, pondering his suspicions about the Golden Order.
If they’d crossed the line as he suspected, they had to be stopped. How was the problem. If he asked too many questions, the vigilantes would lay low. The problem would go away for a while, but they’d strike again without warning. Matt needed to set a trap. A trap needed bait, but he hadn’t been in Cheyenne long enough to have the connections for an effective ruse. He needed a break but didn’t see one coming.
Yawning, he banked the coals of the dying fire. As he headed down the hall, someone pounded on his door. He opened it and saw Dan. “What happened?”
“Someone beat Scottie Fife to a pulp.”
Matt strapped on his gun belt. “Where did it happen?”
“Behind the Silver Slipper.” Dan described how Scottie had been tricked into the alley. Instead of the customer he’d expected, he’d encountered five masked men in black derbies. “Doc says he’ll live, but he’s lost an eye.”
“I want to talk to him.” Matt punched into his coat. “Any witnesses?”
“Maybe. The girls are waiting for us.”
Matt went to Sarah’s room where he scooped her into his arms. Blanket and all, he carried her across the street to Mrs. Holcombe’s house. The widow would understand. He’d woken her up before. Tomorrow she’d remind him that Sarah needed a mother, as if he didn’t already know it. As Dan knocked on her door, Matt called her name so she wouldn’t be alarmed. She opened the door and he carried Sarah to the sofa, kissed her forehead and tucked the blanket around her shoulders. Bless her heart, she didn’t wake up. He thanked Mrs. Holcombe profusely, then left with Dan.
As they neared Ferguson Street, the night turned rowdy with noise from a dozen saloons. A tinny piano played a rambunctious tune, and Matt heard female laughter from an upstairs window. Forced and empty, the sound depressed him. So did the plink of bottles as he and Dan passed one saloon after another, each with a name more tempting than the last.
When they reached the Silver Slipper, the noise died to silence. With Dan behind him, Matt pushed through the batwing doors into a room blazing with light. The customers had moved down the street, leaving behind the smell of whiskey and an abandoned Faro game. The six women who worked as dancing girls were huddled around a table.
Matt tipped his hat. “Good evening, ladies.”
“Good evening,” they murmured.
He’d have wagered a month’s salary that not a single woman in the room had chosen this life. They’d fallen into it because of hunger and shame and only God knew what else. The rouge on their cheeks did nothing to hide the pallor of fear. Katy the cleaning girl sat on the fringe of the group. With her clean-scrubbed face, she looked more ashen than the others and twice as scared.
Matt surveyed the women. “Did anyone see anything?”
After a pause, a brunette named Lizzy raised her hand.
“Speak freely,” he said.
“I saw their horses as they galloped off.”
“I did, too,” said another girl.
The dam broke and the women all started talking at once. Matt raised his hands. “One at a time, ladies.”
After a couple minutes, he discerned there had been five attackers. In addition to wearing masks, the riders had chosen horses with no discernable markings. Sometime during the beating, one of the men had scrawled “God is not mocked” on the back door with white chalk.
“I’d like to speak to Scottie,” he said to the group.
Katy pushed to her feet. “I’ll take you.”
Leaving Dan to continue with Scottie’s girls, Matt followed Katy up two flights of stairs to a third story as ornate as a New Orleans hotel. Katy tapped on the door. When someone called for her to come in, she led Matt into a bedroom furnished from top to bottom with fancy things.
Matt made eye contact with the doctor. “May I speak to Scottie?”
“Only if you’re quick,” he answered. “I just dosed him with laudanum.”
As Matt approached the bed, he saw the damage to the man’s face. As Dan had said, he’d lost an eye. The remaining one was swollen shut, and bruises covered every inch of his face.
“Hello, Scottie,” Matt said quietly. “What can you tell me?”
“Not much.”
“Did you recognize anyone?”
“They got me down too fast.”
“How about voices?”
Scottie swallowed painfully. “They’re sly, Wiley. They didn’t say a word.
Matt had to admire the group’s discipline. They had a secret and intended to keep it.
When Scottie motioned for a glass of water, Katy stepped forward and lifted it to his lips. The gesture held tenderness, but Matt didn’t think there was anything improper between the two of them. Katy had cared for her ailing husband before his death and had the demeanor of a nurse. When Scottie groaned, the doctor motioned for Matt to leave. As he headed for the stairs, he heard footsteps, turned and saw Katy following him.
“It’s the men who shot out the windows, isn’t it?” she asked.
“I think so.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “I know Scottie’s business is wrong. So do the other girls. We don’t want to be here. It’s just…” She shook her head.
“Sometimes there’s not much of a choice,” he said for her. He’d seen it too many times. A woman lost her way and couldn’t make ends meet. Prostitution was a downhill slide that ended at places like the one Jasper Kling had been visiting. Matt had to wonder what would happen if the businessmen leading the Golden Order offered decent jobs to these woman? What if someone gave them a second chance?
Katy bit her lip. “I have enough money saved for train fare home. I’m leaving next week.”
“That’s good.”
“I wish I could take Lizzy and everyone with me.”
So did Matt. He couldn’t make that happen, but he could stop the vigilantes. “Did you see anything else tonight?”
“I only remember the hats.”
The black derbies claimed authority and made the group known. Eventually they’d make a mistake, but how many peo
ple would suffer before they stumbled? Matt had to take action now. As he and Katy arrived in the main dance hall, he made eye contact with Dan. The deputy shook his head, a signal he hadn’t gleaned any useful information. The two men bid good-night to the women and paced out the door.
As the bright light of the dance hall faded to black, Matt saw the answer to the problem with startling clarity. He and Dan had been inside the saloon. Now they were outside in the dark. They were also outside of the G.O. If they could somehow get inside, they’d have the information they needed to make arrests during the next attack.
“We need a spy,” he said to Dan.
“A what?”
“Someone who can get inside the G.O.” Matt picked up his pace. “They’re not going to stop, and they’re smart. We need to find a man they’ll trust but who sees them for what they are. It’s the only way.”
Dan’s brows lifted. “Who do you have in mind?”
Matt scanned faces in his mind, disregarding one after the other. If he approached someone favorable to the vigilante activity, he’d tip his hand to the Golden Order. On the other hand, the G.O. knew where everyone in Cheyenne stood on the issues of crime and Ferguson Street. “We need a newcomer to town. Someone they don’t know.”
“A wild card,” Dan added.
“Exactly.” Only one man fit that bill. Matt didn’t care for ministers, but he liked Pearl’s father. “What do you know about Tobias Oliver?”
“Carrie’s uncle?”
“That’s right.”
“I haven’t met him, but I expect I’ll see him at church tomorrow.”
“Good.” Matt saw the pieces coming together. “See if you can get a feel for what he thinks of what’s happening.”
With their boots tapping on the wood, Dan chuckled. “I have a better idea. Come with me. You can talk to him yourself.”
Matt answered with a laugh of his own. “Not a chance.” He hadn’t prayed since Virginia and he wasn’t going to start now.
The men parted at the corner. Dan left whistling a nameless tune. Matt walked alone in the dark with only his thoughts for company. As he neared the edge of town, coyotes joined in a song that would haunt his dreams. Would he ever sleep well again? Maybe, if he could stop the Golden Order. With the wind pushing him, he hoped he’d found the answer in Tobias Oliver. A minister…. The irony nearly choked him. Matt had no faith in God and even less in men who claimed to know Him, but what else could he do? The G.O. had to be stopped, and Tobias Oliver offered his only hope. With a little luck, the man would be on their side, and soon Matt would sleep without dreams.
Pearl woke up in the middle of the night to the call of howling coyotes. As the endless wind stirred the cottonwood outside her window, she felt the restlessness in her gut. She’d been working for Jasper—that’s how she thought of him now—for two days and she’d grown weary of his persnickety ways. Neither did she care for how he treated people. Wealthy patrons received the utmost respect. Customers of lesser means were made to feel uncomfortable until they left. Pearl would have quit, but she needed the money.
Unable to get back to sleep, she padded downstairs for a glass of water. To her surprise, she found Carrie sitting at a desk in the parlor with a pen in hand.
“You’re up late,” Pearl remarked.
Carrie smiled. “I’m writing the invitations to the dinner party.”
Pearl’s belly lurched, but she’d made up her mind to go through with the party for her cousin’s sake. “Do you need any help?”
“I’m almost finished.” She signed a note and set it aside. “That’s the last one. I’ll deliver them at church, or early in the week for anyone who’s not there.”
In spite of her good intentions, Pearl sighed.
Carrie looked up from the pot of sealing wax, saw Pearl’s expression and spoke in a tone as gentle as cotton. “What’s wrong, cousin?”
“Everything,” Pearl admitted. “I don’t like Jasper, and I hate being away from Toby so much. Teaching would have taken me away from him, too. But it’s a noble occupation. In Jasper’s shop, I’m dusting trinkets and kowtowing to people like Lady Eugenia. It feels all wrong.”
“You could quit,” Carrie said. “We don’t need the money.”
“I need it,” Pearl insisted.
“That’s pride talking.” Carrie came to sit on the divan. “I’ve got more than enough for our needs. We’re family, Pearl. Please don’t feel beholden.”
“But I do.”
“You shouldn’t.” Carrie sounded brusque but in a good way. “Do you know how lonely I’d be without you and Toby? Do you have any idea how wonderful it is to have Uncle Tobias telling stories at supper?”
Pearl said nothing, but she knew what Carrie meant. Meals were a joy. The three of them traded stories and they all loved Toby. Pearl missed her friends at Swan’s Nest, but she’d found a connection just as true with Carrie. “We do get along, don’t we?”
Carrie gripped her hand. “We’re sisters now. Don’t ever forget it.”
“I won’t.”
With a gleam in her eye, Carrie tightened her grip. “Since we’re sisters, I’m going to say something you probably don’t want to hear.”
Pearl hesitated. “What is it?”
“There’s more than one way for you to solve your money problem. I know you’ve been hurt, but a husband—”
“Carrie, no.”
“Why not?” she said gently.
Pearl didn’t know what to say. How could she explain the helplessness of being attacked, the fear that shook her bones? It was like describing a toothache to someone who’d never had one. Knowing Carrie couldn’t understand—and being glad for that innocence—Pearl skipped over the most primal reason for her doubts and focused on a lesser one. “I have an illegitimate son. What man would want us?”
“A good one,” Carrie insisted.
“I don’t know.”
“I do.” Her cousin’s face lit up. “I can’t wait for you to meet Dan Cobb. He’s funny and sweet, and he loves children. He’ll—”
“Carrie, no.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not ready.” Except her mind had conjured up a picture of Matt. She’d tasted cherry pie and remembered his hands on her arms, steadying her as he gazed into her eyes. If it hadn’t been for Carrie, she’d have worn the blue ribbons every day. Matt made her feel brave, but thoughts of other men sent tremors down her spine. She had to stop Carrie from getting ideas. “I want you to promise me something.”
“What is it?”
“No matchmaking.”
Carrie laughed. “I won’t push, I promise. But that’s not going to stop Dan and the Hudson brothers from noticing you.”
Pearl went pale. “I hope they don’t.”
“Look at yourself!” Carrie chided. “You’re much prettier than I am.”
“That’s not true.”
“I’m being honest.” She lifted her chin. “I’m pretty enough, but you’re like sunshine. Any man would be glad to marry you.”
Pearl didn’t want any man. She wanted—Stop it. She had to stop thinking about Matt. For Carrie’s sake, she’d be friendly at the dinner party, but she wouldn’t wear her best dress. She’d braid her hair tight and she’d get to know Amy and Meg. As for Dan and the Hudson brothers, she hoped they’d sense her reluctance and leave her alone.
She managed a small smile for Carrie. “I’m not interested in a husband, but you are. If Matt has a lick of sense, he’ll see that you’re pretty and smart and just plain good.”
Carrie blushed. “Thank you.”
Eager to change the focus, Pearl grinned. “Now we have a party to plan.”
Together they planned the menu, including the desserts they’d make themselves. Carrie decided to buy a new gown. Pearl would wear navy blue and no ribbons in her hair. With a little luck, Matt would notice Carrie at last and Pearl could be happy for them both. Never mind her own rebellious thoughts. They belonged with the ribbons in the
back of a drawer, destined to be forgotten with all of her impossible dreams.
Chapter Nine
“Daddy, this is for you,” Sarah said as she came down the steps from Miss Marlowe’s School. “It’s from my teacher.”
“Thank you, darlin’.” Matt tucked the small envelope in his shirt pocket, then swung Sarah into his arms. He figured the note was about his daughter’s schoolwork, or maybe she’d been talking too much. He’d read it tonight in private, then remind her not to chatter like a magpie.
Sarah had other ideas about the note. She tugged the envelope out of his pocket and shoved it under his nose. “The paper’s pretty. Open it now.”
“Nope,” he said.
“Yes!” She wiggled against him. “Miss Carrie asked me to give it to you special.”
“She did?”
Sarah nodded. “It’s an invitation.” She stretched the unfamiliar word into a serious matter indeed.
Perhaps Carrie had planned a class event. The sooner he knew if he had to rustle up cookies, the better off he’d be. He set Sarah down and reached for the letter. “In that case, we better see what it says.”
Matt popped the wax seal, read the invitation to a supper party on Saturday evening and grinned. Dan had received the same invitation yesterday at church, and he’d nearly busted his buttons at the prospect of socializing with Carrie. Matt’s buttons were busting, too. He hadn’t seen Pearl since the day of the interview. The party would give him a chance to see how she was doing. It would also give him a chance to chat with Tobias Oliver. On Sunday Dan had been impressed with the man. Not only did he have a level head, he’d already attended a meeting of the Golden Order. They’d agreed Matt would chat with the minister at the next opportunity, drop a hint about their suspicions and possibly ask for his help.
Pleased with the turn of events, especially the prospect of an evening with Pearl, Matt swung Sarah back into his arms. Giggling, she hugged him hard. He was about to set her down when he noticed Carrie watching them from the top of the steps.
“Hi, there,” he called with a stupid grin on his face. “I got the invitation.”
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