Wyoming Lawman (11 page)

M
att 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.

Crawdad answered in the Louisiana drawl that had earned him his nickname. Matt nodded at Gates but spoke to the fire chief. “I hear this is arson.”

“I'd say so,” Crawdad remarked.

Gates coughed against the smoke but said nothing.

Matt watched him carefully. “A girl died tonight. Whoever set the fire will stand trial for murder.”

“Murder?” Gates had a face of stone, but his voice betrayed his nervousness.

Matt decided to push. “You got here fast, Mr. Gates. Did you see anything? Maybe men in black derbies?”

“Not a thing, Deputy.” The banker schooled his features. “I was working late. I heard the fire bells and came to help. You can't have too many men on a bucket brigade.”

Liar.

The banker rubbed his chin. “Any idea who did this?”

“Not a one.” Actually Matt had five. Their names were Chester Gates, Jasper Kling and three other members of the Golden Order.

“Fires are serious in this city.” Gates glanced at Crawdad. “That new steam engine seems to have worked.”

“It's a help,” the chief replied.

The talk turned to the need for more wells and pipes from the river. The shift away from who had started the fire seemed natural, but Matt's instincts said otherwise. Most people quizzed him unmercifully when it came to crime. Gates didn't want to talk to him, but he'd come to see the Silver Slipper burn. Matt felt certain the G.O. had started the fire, but he couldn't take action without hard
evidence. He hoped that would change when he spoke with Tobias. Tomorrow was Sunday. Matt didn't attend church, but Tobias did and so did Dan. If Dan happened to run into the minister, the two of them could talk. It was late, but his friend wouldn't mind being woken up considering the need.

Matt said goodbye to Crawdad and Gates, then rode to Dan's place. He knocked on the door, calling his friend's name so he wouldn't come out shooting.

Bleary-eyed and haphazardly dressed, Dan invited him inside. “You better have a good reason for being here.”

“I do.” Matt tossed his hat on a chair. “The Silver Slipper just burned to the ground.”

Dan came fully alert. “I'd call that a good reason.”

“Five other saloons went with it.”

He winced. “Any deaths?”

Matt told him about Katy. “I'm tired of waiting for a break. You're going to church tomorrow to talk to Tobias Oliver.”

Dan shook his head. “
You're
going.”

“No way.”

“Come on, Wiley.” Dan raked his hand through his hair. “You know the man better than I do. Bite the bullet and sit through a sermon.”

Not a week passed that Dan didn't try to prod Matt into taking Sarah to church. It was good-natured jesting and Matt didn't mind, but he'd drawn a line for himself. No way would he sit through a sermon. “You know my answer to
that.
”

“I do,” Dan replied. “I also see the perfect place to speak with Reverend Oliver.”

Dan had a point. Matt hated the thought of hymns and hallelujahs, but he'd do anything to stop the Golden Order. He also liked the idea of seeing Pearl. He had no right to
such a thought, but holding Toby had stirred him up in powerful ways. The boy made him want to be a father again, to have a son who'd maybe someday wear a badge or be a soldier. Even more important, Matt knew how much a boy needed a man to teach him things. Toby had his grandfather, but the old man wouldn't live forever. No one did.

As the thought settled, Matt flashed to the fire and the need to stop the Golden Order. “I'll go to church,” he said to Dan. “But just to see Tobias.”

Dan grinned. “Don't look so scared. God's not going to fall off his throne at the sight of you in church.”

Matt glared at him.

Dan's expression hardened in return. “Talking to Tobias is smart. We agree on
that.
”

Matt heard the dangling thought and scowled. “What
don't
we agree on?”

“The way you treated Carrie at supper.” Dan's voice lost its sleepy pitch. “You laughed at her, and then you walked out.”

Matt stared in disbelief. “The Golden Order is burning down buildings and you're worried about my
manners?
”

“I'm telling you to wise up about Carrie.”

“Me?” Matt couldn't believe his ears. “You're the one who likes her.”

“But
you're
the one she wants.”

Matt saw an answer to both their problems. “So change her mind. Sweep her off her feet.”

Dan scowled at him.

“I'm serious.” Sweet Carrie and Iowa Dan…. They fit like bread and butter. “Ask her to supper. I bet she'll say yes.”

At the sight of his friend's gaping mouth, Matt almost laughed. He knew the feeling, because he felt that way about Pearl. It was like standing on a bluff looking at rich
land that stretched for miles. It could be his, but only if he took a chance. Could he be a husband again? He didn't know, but the thought wouldn't go away.

Dan eyed him thoughtfully. “Do you think she'd say yes?”

“You won't know unless you ask.”

“I suppose.” Dan wandered to the window. “Just promise me one thing.”

“What is it?”

“That you'll be gentle with her.” He turned and looked at Matt. Dan had a soft side, and it showed. “After you ran off to the kitchen, I tried to help her. She cares for you, Wiley. Why, I don't know. But she does.”

Matt had seen the look, too. “I didn't know—”

“You do now.” Dan's voice came out rough. “If you hurt her, we'll be having words.”

Matt had hurt enough women already. “I'll speak to her as soon as I can, and I'll be gentle about it.” Maybe he'd see her tomorrow at church. Exactly how he'd approach Carrie, Matt didn't know. Did a man tell a woman he wasn't going to say what he hadn't ever said? The thought gave him a headache.

Dan heaved a sigh. When he looked at Matt, his brows hitched together. “This Golden Order mess has me worried.”

“Me, too.”

“Reverend Oliver will be at risk. If Jasper suspects us, so will Pearl.”

“I know.”

“What are you going to tell him?”

“Everything.” Matt shared Dan's fear. “The man deserves to know what he'd be getting into. If he has any doubts, we'll look elsewhere.”

A smile tipped on Dan's lips. “So you're really going to church?”

“I'm going to see Tobias,” Matt corrected.

“You'll see Pearl, too.”

“So?”

“You like her, don't you?”

“It doesn't matter what I like,” Matt countered. “She doesn't belong with a heathen like me.”

Dan laughed out loud. “Who says you're a heathen?”

“I do.”

His expression turned thoughtful. “For a heathen, you spend a lot of time being mad at God.”

“I do not.” Except he felt the old fury now. If God was good, why had Katy burned to death? Why hadn't the Almighty stopped Matt and his men from lynching Amos McGuckin? Matt knew what
he'd
do if he were God. He'd erase that night in Virginia. He'd change Pearl's past, too. He'd give her Toby, but she'd have a husband who loved her. And Sarah would have a mother who'd never leave.

He glared at Dan. “I don't want to talk about this stuff.”

His friend shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“I will.”

If he could stop the Golden Order, maybe he could forgive himself for having once been like them. And if he could forgive himself, maybe he could forgive God. One thought led to another and he imagined sleeping like a baby and waking up with Pearl at his side. A wife…a mother for Sarah…a father for Toby. Tomorrow he'd go to church and he'd see Pearl. He couldn't help but hope she'd be wearing his ribbons.