Wyoming Lawman (9 page)

If she'd had any doubts about his intentions, the mention of a chaperone would have laid them to rest. She had no interest in being courted by this man. Her reaction had little to do with his small eyes and pointed chin. His demeanor put her off. So did the way he treated people. She had to nip his interest in the bud. “Thank you, but I can't accept.”

“You're shy,” he said kindly.

She said nothing, but her cheeks flushed. Not from embarrassment but anger, though Jasper wouldn't know the cause. She hoped he'd take the hint and leave. Instead he shifted nervously on his feet. “I want you to know, Pearl. I admire how you conduct yourself.”

She said nothing.

“Your father, too.” He pushed up his spectacles. “He spoke eloquently at the Golden Order meeting. We're glad to have him.”

Pearl had to blank her surprise. Her father had come home from the meeting shaking his head. He agreed with the group in principle, but he'd been put off by the vitriol. He didn't plan to go back, and he'd been particularly critical of Jasper's ranting about Ferguson Street. Tobias hated sin as much as the next man, but he knew the folly of a superior tone and refused to throw stones at anyone.

Jasper had no such humility. Pearl had to discourage him, or else she'd be fending off his advances every day. Still holding the duster, she searched her mind for something true that would send him on his way. She settled on the obvious. “I very much appreciate having employment, sir. But you need to know, I'm not interested in…personal attention. I've made a decision to serve the Lord as a single woman.”

Jasper gripped her free hand. “God bless you, Pearl. You're as faithful as Paul, the greatest of the Apostles.”

She pulled back instantly. Jasper let go, but his eyes stayed on her face. Clutching the feather duster, a poor weapon at best, she stood like a deer sensing danger. Had she overreacted? She didn't think so, but she couldn't be sure. Jasper had an odd manner, but he'd simply complimented her dedication to God.

She had to respond or else she'd rouse his curiosity. “Thank you for understanding,” she finally said.

With an awkward bow, he went to the display window. Pearl resumed her dusting, but she couldn't stop trembling. She didn't trust her first reaction, but her second one to Jasper echoed the same uneasiness. She glanced at his back. He'd put out the men's accessories just yesterday. Now he
appeared to be removing them. The effort struck her as odd, but she had no desire to question him.

To her relief he finished arranging the new display—fine china and silver goblets—then went back to his office and closed the door. Pearl continued her dusting, but she couldn't shake off her nervousness. She read the
Cheyenne Leader
every day, so she knew about Scottie Fife's beating. The riders had worn black derbies like the one in the window.

She considered mentioning the coincidence to Matt, but she didn't want to visit him at the sheriff's office. She didn't want to think about him at all. He belonged to Carrie. Even if he'd been free, Pearl had no real hope for a courtship.

She tried to pray for Matt and Carrie, but her temper flared. Today she'd felt the sweet awareness of Matt protecting her from harm. She'd touched Sarah's braids and thought of the ribbons stashed in her drawer. How much more disappointment could she stand? And now she had Jasper to worry about.

Where are you, Lord?

She didn't know. The Lord had made Heaven and earth, but it seemed He'd forgotten a frightened woman in Cheyenne.

A
n hour before the supper party, Matt dragged the straight razor over his jaw, cut himself and grimaced. Fatigue made him clumsy, and the week had been brutal. Since he'd seen the derby in Jasper's window, he'd split working nights with Dan and the other deputies. When he slept during the day or in the wee hours of the morning, his dreams were vivid and intense. He could cope with the smoky images from the war. The shame fit like a pair of old boots. What he couldn't abide were the dreams that followed. Last night he'd seen Sarah and Pearl with matching hair ribbons and he'd jolted awake.

Dabbing at the cut, he thought about his visits to Jasper's shop. He stopped by twice a day now. Jasper assumed Matt was after “besmirchers.” In truth he was watching over Pearl. Sometimes he'd bring Sarah, and he'd listen as the two of them jabbered about everything from braids to books to dolls. He could get used to having a woman around. So could Sarah, and that presented a problem. No matter how he felt about her, he was the same man who'd failed Bettina.

He looked at his reflection in the shaving mirror. “Be smart, pal. Don't go hurting anyone.”

Someone tapped on the bedroom door. “Daddy?”

“What is it, Sarah?”

“Who are you talking to?”

“No one.”

“But I heard you!”

“Hold on, darlin'.” He put on his shirt. “Come in.”

She opened the door, then looked around the room. “I heard you talking to someone. I
know
I did.”

“I know. Pretend you didn't.”

“If I had a mommy, you could talk to
her.
”

“Sarah—”

She huffed with an air of a full-grown woman. Did all five-year-olds do that or only his daughter? Since getting to know Pearl, Sarah talked constantly about mothers and babies. Yesterday she'd told him she wanted a baby brother as cute as Toby. Matt understood Sarah's needs, but there was only so much a single father could do.

He finished with his tie, put on his coat and lifted her to his hip. “Want to play horsey?”

“Yes!”

He galloped her into the kitchen where Mrs. Holcombe was dishing up supper. She liked being an adopted grandma, and he couldn't have managed without her. He kissed Sarah goodbye, put on his hat and left through the front door. He'd left his horse tied to a hitching post, so he climbed into the saddle. He usually boarded the gelding at the livery, but tonight he wanted to be ready to ride. If the Golden Order struck, he'd be there quick.

He rode two blocks to Dan's house and dismounted. Before he knocked, Dan opened the door. Bay rum wafted in a cloud. Matt fanned it from his nose. “You smell like a girl.”

Dan grinned. “So do you.”

It was true, almost. Matt had splashed something minty on his jaw, but he hadn't bathed in it. “You ready?”

Dan put on his hat and closed the door. “Dinner with Miss Carrie Hart? You bet I'm ready.”

Matt felt the same way about Pearl but wished he didn't. Tonight he'd be wise to focus on the other business at hand, which meant carving out a private talk with Tobias. From his conversations with Pearl, he'd learned the minister had attended a G.O. meeting and found the gathering troublesome. When Matt had mentioned the vigilante attacks at the Silver Slipper to Pearl, she'd reacted with outrage and said her father felt the same way. Matt was fairly certain he could trust Tobias. Whether the man would volunteer for a risky mission remained to be seen.

Dan mounted his roan and they rode to Carrie's house. Instead of thinking about how to approach Tobias, Matt found himself wondering if Pearl would wear his ribbons. Soon he'd see for himself. The thought shouldn't have pleased him, but it did.

 

As she considered what to wear to the party, Pearl was tempted to use Toby as an excuse to stay upstairs. He had the sniffles and had fussed when she'd put him down, but he'd fallen asleep and was breathing evenly in his bed. She'd made arrangements with Mrs. Dinwiddie and Hattie, the serving girl they'd hired for the night, to keep a close eye on him, but she planned to sneak upstairs herself for a few peeks.

Considering Matt would be at the dinner party, she'd need those respites. She couldn't bear the thought of an evening in his presence. Every time he visited her at Jasper's store, she liked him more. Her feelings for the man were in a jumble.

She liked him.

She feared what she felt.

Most of all, she felt guilty for coveting her cousin's beau…except he didn't belong to Carrie. The more Pearl spoke with Matt, the more clearly she saw his feelings. He liked Carrie, but she'd never be more than Sarah's teacher. Pearl didn't dare think about what he felt for
her.
She only knew she had to put Carrie's feelings before her own. That meant putting on a brave smile for tonight's party and hoping her cousin wouldn't be hurt. What it
didn't
mean was flirting with Dan or the Hudson brothers. Instead she'd get to know Meg and Amy, and she'd be friendly to Mrs. Griffin, the widow Carrie had asked to serve as chaperone with Tobias. If her plan failed, she'd retreat to the kitchen with Mrs. Dinwiddie and the serving girl. With that duty in mind, she lifted a navy blue gown with narrow sleeves from the wardrobe. As she checked the dress for wrinkles, Carrie pushed through the bedroom door.

“You can't wear that!” she declared.

“Why not?”

“It's depressing!”

Carrie usually spoke more gently. Pearl attributed her shrill tone to nerves. “It's fine.” Although she had to admit, the color
was
a bit gloomy. The last time she'd worn the gown had been to a funeral.

Carrie shoved the dress back in the wardrobe. As Pearl reached to take it back, Carrie pushed through her dresses, a mix of grays, blues and drab browns and pulled out the gown Pearl had worn to Josh and Adie's wedding. As she held it out, her face lit up. “This is perfect!”

“Carrie, I can't.”

“Why not?”

Because Matt will notice me instead of you. Because
I'll feel pretty and alive and I'll want things I can't have.
“I just can't.”

“But it's beautiful!” Carrie held the dress to her chin. Powder blue with an overskirt and white ribbon trim, the gown reminded Pearl of her friends at Swan's Nest, especially Mary who had ordered her to hold her head high. What would it be like to slip into the shimmering folds? To slip her arms into the sleeves that puffed and narrowed at her wrists? She ached to feel pretty, but not with Matt at the supper table. She'd want to smile at him, maybe flirt. She couldn't. Not when he belonged to Carrie. Not when she feared men and marriage.

Carrie shoved the dress into her arms. “You've
got
to wear this one.”

She didn't understand. “But why?”

Her cousin looked close to tears. “If you wear that dreary navy blue, I'll look like a strumpet.”

She had a point. A week ago they'd gone shopping. Carrie had selected a pink taffeta gown with oodles of ruffles. Pearl thought the dress was overdone and she'd said so. Carrie had loved it. Pearl hadn't pressed the point because she'd doubted herself. What did she know about fashion these days? She hadn't cared about looking nice for a long time. But she cared tonight…. She cared because of Matt.

The admission left her deeply disturbed. If she said yes to her cousin's request and wore the dress, she'd be risking Matt's attention. If she said no, Carrie would look silly in the rose-colored ruffles. As Pearl weighed the choice, she touched the sleeve of the silky dress. It warmed with her touch and she knew. She wanted to look pretty tonight. Not for Matt or Carrie, but for herself. “You're right,” she said. “The silk is prettier.”

With Carrie's help, Pearl put on three petticoats and
slipped into the shimmering gown. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she saw the woman who'd caught Adie's bridal bouquet and boldly come to Cheyenne for a second chance.

“You look perfect,” Carrie said. “Now let's fix your hair.”

Her crowning glory…the white mane that had attracted Franklin Dean. Her breath hitched at the memory, and her stomach knotted. Blinking, she flashed back to the buggy ride and the terrible memory of being trapped. She yearned for the safety of the navy blue, but she couldn't explain the reason to Carrie without more upset. Trembling, she sat at the vanity. “Put it in a coronet.”

Carrie huffed. “And hide your pretty hair?”

“I like it that way.”

She put her hands on Pearl's shoulders and pressed to keep her in place. “I have an idea.”

“Don't—”

Carrie had already loosened Pearl's braid. As the white-gold strands brushed her nape, she recalled her mother putting up her hair for the first time. She'd been fourteen and confident. She wanted to be confident again. “All right,” she said. “Make it pretty.”

“You won't be sorry.”

Carrie went to work with a brush and a comb. Ten minutes later Pearl had the loveliest chignon she'd ever worn. The style struck her as the perfect mix of beauty and restraint. She liked it.

“Thank you, cousin.” She meant it.

“One more thing.”

When Carrie opened the drawer holding Pearl's hair ornaments, Pearl went pale. She didn't want her cousin to notice Matt's ribbons.

Pearl lifted a comb from the drawer. It was made of
mother of pearl and had been a gift from her parents on her fourteenth birthday. She treasured it. “How about this?”

“It's too fancy.”

She selected a comb made of bone.

“It's too plain.”

Just as Pearl had feared, Carrie dug past her everyday ribbons to the blue ones. She set all of them on the vanity, then selected the palest blue.

“This one's perfect,” she said. “It matches your eyes.”

Pearl didn't want to wear one of Matt's ribbons not only because of what he'd think, but because of what they meant to her. The ribbons were a memory, an impossible dream. If she wore one tonight, they'd become as ordinary as her others. She wanted to tell Carrie to put them back, but her cousin would fuss and Pearl would have to explain. Resigned, she let Carrie fashion a blue bow above her ear.

Carrie stepped back. “You look beautiful, cousin.”

She
felt
beautiful. For the first time in a year, she felt the lift that comes with a pretty dress, the pleasure of silk on her skin. She owed Carrie for this moment, so she stood and smiled. “Now it's your turn.”

They went to Carrie's room where they repeated the ritual of petticoats and looking pretty. The pink dress made Carrie look like a blooming rose, a bit overblown but still lovely. Carrie bit her lips to make them pinker. “I hope Matt likes my dress.”

“So do I.” She meant it, but her wayward mind went to her own blue gown. As she put the finishing touch on her cousin's hair, someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Carrie called.

The serving girl they'd hired for the night stepped into the room. “Your guests are arriving, Miss Hart. I've seated Mr. Cobb and Mr. Wiley in the parlor like you said.”

“Thank you, Hattie.”

With a nod, the girl left. Carrie looked at herself in the mirror, pinched her cheeks until they glowed, then bit her lips for the third time. They were beginning to look like overripe plums. Pearl touched her shoulder. “Carrie, stop.”

“Stop what?” Carrie's voice quavered.

“Stop biting your lips.” Pearl took her hand. “You look beautiful. Matt will see you for the woman you are, or he won't. If he doesn't, he's a fool.”

“If he doesn't, I'll die.”

“No, you won't,” Pearl said gently. “We don't always get what we want, but the Lord gives us what we need.”

Carrie's eyes misted. “You sound like my mother.”

“Mine, too.”

The women hugged, then Carrie took a breath. “I'm ready.”

Together they walked down the stairs. As they entered the parlor, Matt and another man stood to greet them. They both looked polished in dark coats and string ties, but the resemblance ended with their clothing. Matt looked weary and had dark crescents under his eyes. The fellow she guessed to be Dan had a cheerful air. Brown eyes twinkled below his straight brows, and he had an easy smile. He looked rested and ready for a good time.

“Good evening,” Carrie said to the men. “Matt, you know Pearl, but I don't think Dan does.” She hooked her arm around Pearl's waist and nudged her forward. “Dan, this is my cousin, Pearl Oliver. Pearl, this is Deputy Dan Cobb. He's Matt's partner.”

Dan held out his hand. “The pleasure's mine, Miss Oliver. Welcome to Cheyenne.”

“Thank you, Deputy.”

As the four of them sat, someone knocked on the door.
The maid answered and the Hudson brothers walked in. As the servant took their coats, Tobias came down the stairs and issued a jolly hello. Amidst the chatter, Mrs. Griffin arrived with Amy Hinn and Meg Gates.

Pearl tensed every time Carrie introduced her, but the knots in her stomach loosened as she settled into small talk with Meg and Mrs. Griffin. On the other side of the room, Carrie angled into a conversation with Matt, Dan and her father. Dan looked charmed, but Matt's brow furrowed. When he shot Pearl a look from across the room, she realized she'd been staring at him. She looked away, but not before his eyes found the ribbon and he smiled.

Just like that, they'd shared a secret. Pearl hated herself for enjoying the moment, but she couldn't help it. For the first time in a year, she hadn't turned into jelly because a man had noticed her. She'd been pleased. But now she felt guilty. If she couldn't keep her eyes to herself, the night would be long and tense.

“Pearl?”

She turned and saw Amy Hinn, another teacher at Miss Marlowe's School. Glad to be distracted, Pearl made room for Amy on the sofa. As they chatted, Garth Hudson brought them each a cup of punch. Judging by the look in his eyes, Amy wouldn't be single for long.