Wyoming Lawman. Victoria Bylin
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He gave her a look he’d often used in the pulpit. “It’s about time you showed a little faith—both in God and in people.”
Pearl had no assurance Matt Wiley wouldn’t laugh at her note, but she had walked with the Lord as long as she could remember. “All right. I’ll do it.”
“Good.” Tobias glanced at the wall clock. “I’m going to finish that nap.”
As he left the sitting room, Pearl went to the secretary, opened the drawer and removed stationery, an inkwell and an elegant pen. She positioned the paper on the blotter, filled the well and wrote the note. Both formal and friendly, the wording struck her as just right and she blew the ink dry. On a whim, she added a P.S., then sealed the note and checked on Toby. Satisfied he’d stay asleep, she took the note to the front desk before she could change her mind about asking a “what if” of her own.
The instant Matt set foot in the sheriff’s office, his friend and partner, Dan Cobb, held up two envelopes and grinned. “Here you go, Romeo.”
Scowling, Matt snagged the letters. They were both written on ivory stationery and sealed with white wax. One displayed his name in a script he recognized as belonging to Sarah’s teacher. Miss Carrie Hart taught the youngest girls at Miss Marlowe’s School, and she frequently sent home glowing notes about his daughter. They often chatted when he met Sarah after school, and they’d become casual friends.
The other letter displayed pretty writing that said, “To Deputy Matt and Sarah.” Pearl must have gotten the hair ribbons.
Fighting a smile, he dropped down on his chair and started to open the letter from Pearl. As the seal popped, Dan’s chair squeaked. Matt looked up, caught his friend staring and scowled. “What are you looking at?”
Dan grinned. “Looks to me like a couple of pretty ladies have their eyes on you.”
Matt had no interest in ladies, pretty or otherwise. He held up the first envelope. “This one’s from Carrie Hart. She’s Sarah’s teacher.”
“I know Carrie.” Dan sounded wistful. “I see her at church.”
Matt saw a chance to take a friendly jab. “Judging by that hangdog look, you’re sweet on her.”
“What if I am?”
Matt huffed. “Beware, my friend. Marriage isn’t what it’s cracked up to be.”
“That’s your opinion.”
“It’s the voice of experience.” He’d never forget quarreling with Bettina, how she’d cried when he’d left to go with the Rangers. He’d felt guilty for leaving and even worse the times he’d stayed.
Dan wagged his finger at the second envelope. “Who sent that one?”
“None of your business.”
“Sure it is,” Dan replied. “We’re partners.”
Matt considered the deputy his best friend, but he didn’t want an audience when he read the notes. He gave Dan a pointed stare. “Don’t you have some outlaws to catch?”
“No, but I hear you had a run-in with Jasper.”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
The quarrel especially rankled because he hadn’t been on duty when Jasper summoned him. Matt wore his badge and gun all the time, but he’d taken the morning off to be with Sarah. Last night she’d fussed about his long hours, so he’d promised to spend the morning with her. To his chagrin, she’d wanted to play dolls. Matt wasn’t much on dolls, so he’d suggested a tea party with real cake at Madame Fontaine’s bakery. Halfway to the shop, Jasper had waylaid him and Sarah had run off.
Matt told Dan everything except the part about Sarah’s braids. Neither did he mention his trip to the dress shop. After choosing the ribbons—all the blue ones he could see—he’d arranged for a delivery to Pearl, then left Sarah eating cookies with Madame Fontaine while he patched up things with Jasper. It hadn’t gone well.
“Jasper’s a nuisance,” Dan complained. “What did he want this time?”
“Same thing as before.”
“The Peters kid?”
“You guessed it.” Matt propped his boots on the desk. He didn’t usually sit that way, but something about Jasper inspired bad manners. “Teddy Peters swiped some candy off the counter. My gut tells me Jasper put it out to tempt him. The kid bolted, and now Jasper wants him tossed in jail.”
Dan shook his head. “Seems like a talk with his folks would be enough.”
“That’s what I did. Teddy’s mother made him pay, and he’s doing extra chores.”
“Sounds reasonable.”
“Jasper didn’t think so.” Matt could hardly believe what he was about to say. “He threatened to have my badge.”
“He what?”
“He thinks I’m too soft for the job.”
“That fool!”
“Don’t waste your breath.” Matt swung his boots off the desk. “Jasper’s a thorn, but I’ve dealt with worse.”
Dan stayed silent a moment too long. “Don’t underestimate him, Wiley. The man’s got a dark side.”
Matt’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“Secrets,” Dan answered. “Jasper’s got one, and I’m willing to bet he’d do anything to keep it.”
Matt knew about secrets. He had one of his own. “Tell me.”
“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.