Wyoming Lawman (13 page)

O
n Monday afternoon, Matt picked up Sarah from school and took her to Mrs. Holcombe's house. He'd been hoping for a word with Carrie, but she'd left before he could signal her. He intended to tell her, as gently as possible, that he appreciated her friendship but had no romantic inclinations.

Pearl presented a different challenge. The yellow ribbon had irked him. He wanted her to wear
his
ribbons. The yellow bow looked pretty, but the blue ones stood for something between them. Just what, Matt didn't know. He only knew he had to make things right with Carrie before he thought too much about Pearl. Not only did he owe it to Carrie, but he also wanted to spare Pearl the awkwardness of knowing the truth when Carrie didn't.

Eager to get the job done, he decided to visit Carrie at her house. First, though, he wanted to speak with Dan about his conversation with Tobias. Not only had the minister agreed to help, but he also had a fire in his belly for the cause of justice. It matched the one that burned in Matt, causing him to wonder why Tobias felt so strongly. He'd wanted to ask, but questions would lead to more questions. If Matt
quizzed Tobias, the man would quiz him back. Matt had no desire to tell anyone in Cheyenne about his mistakes.

When he reached the sheriff's office, he opened the door and instantly smelled trouble. Instead of stale coffee, he smelled sugar and spice. His gaze landed on a plate of baked goods on his desk. Expecting to see Dan, he turned to his friend's desk. He saw Dan all right. And Carrie. They were seated across from each other. Matt had to make himself clear to her, and he had to do it today.

“Good afternoon,” he said as he hung up his hat. “I hope Sarah's not in trouble.”

Carrie stood and smiled. “Not at all.”

She gave Dan a look. The two of them must have done some talking, because Dan headed for the door. “I'll give you two some privacy.”

Matt appreciated the gesture, but being alone with Carrie bothered him. What if she started to cry? He hated it when women cried. What if she screeched like Bettina? Thoughts of his former wife reminded him that he'd been a rotten husband. He was doing Carrie a favor by keeping his distance. He'd be wise to do the same favor for Pearl.

As the door closed, Carrie stood. “I need to explain myself, Matt. I hope you don't mind.”

“Not at all.”

“About last night…” She bit her lip. “I'm afraid I made a fool of myself.”

He hadn't expected her candor. Relieved to face the awkwardness, he saw a chance to do right by her. If he struck the right tone, he could save Carrie's pride. He indicated the chair by Dan's desk. “Have a seat. I need to say a few words.”

“No, you don't.” She stayed on her feet. “I understand.”

“You're a good woman, Carrie. It's just—”

“I know.” She managed a smile. “I didn't realize until last night, but Pearl's a very lucky woman.”

Had he been that transparent? Apparently, although he didn't consider Pearl lucky. He'd ruined Bettina's life. He liked Pearl a lot, but she'd have been wise to run from him.

Carrie raised her chin. “I'm admittedly interfering here, but I want you to know something about her.”

Matt refused to talk behind her back. “I don't—”

“She's a wonderful woman,” Carrie insisted. “I know she was standoffish at the party, but she has a good reason. If you talk to her, you'll see how sweet she is. She loves children, and…” She bit her lip. “I'm babbling again.”

As long as he lived, Matt wouldn't understand women. He'd expected Carrie to throw a tantrum, to blame him for breaking her heart. Instead she'd come to fight for Pearl. The gesture touched him more than anything she could have said or done. It had taken courage and generosity, a generosity of spirit he didn't often see in females. Bettina hadn't possessed it. Carrie had it in abundance and so did Pearl.

A thought came to mind and it wouldn't let go. Maybe he hadn't been such a bad husband after all. Maybe he'd married the wrong woman. He'd have stuck it out forever if Bettina hadn't left, but he'd realized shortly after the wedding they were mismatched. She hadn't been strong enough for marriage to a lawman, and he'd been unable to compromise more than he had. Their marriage had failed, but not because of him.

Carrie managed a dignified smile. “I brought cookies to make up for the cream puff. They're from Pearl and me. You can share with Dan.”

Her kindness touched him. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” she said.

“I mean for more than the cookies.” With things settled between them, Matt could be generous, too. “You've been a friend to Pearl and a wonderful teacher for Sarah. Today you've been a friend to me, too. I appreciate it.”

“It's the right thing to do.” She looked close to tears, so he said nothing. Today she'd given everyone their dignity. She deserved to keep hers.

He lifted a cookie off the plate and took a bite. “It's good,” he said with a full mouth. “Oatmeal raisin is Dan's favorite.”

“He just told me.”

Good for Dan. Matt decided to give his friend some help. “He likes cream puffs, too. His mama makes them at Christmas.”

“So do I.”

Matt took the interest in her eyes as a good sign. As Carrie headed for the door, he went ahead of her and held it wide. As she passed, she gave him a last lingering look. “Goodbye, Matt.”

“Goodbye, Carrie.”

As she passed through the door, he saw Dan watching them from down the street. Matt had a good mind to shout at him to walk Carrie home. If Dan didn't ask her, he didn't deserve to call himself a man.

Carrie saw Dan, too.

And Dan saw Carrie.

They met in the middle of the boardwalk, exchanged a few words and then walked together in the same direction. Good, Matt thought. They were fine people who deserved happiness. Pleased, he stepped back into the office and wrapped some cookies in a napkin for Sarah. Not only had Carrie given her blessing to Matt's interest in Pearl, but she'd also opened his eyes to the truth about his first marriage. It had failed, but not because of him.

His mind went down a road that ended with a mother for Sarah, a woman with blond hair and blue eyes that sent beams of light into a dark world. That, he realized, was the problem. Pearl's heart brimmed with love for God and goodwill toward people. Matt simmered with bitterness and loathing. Pearl needed a man who shared her faith, not a heathen like himself.

Even so, the longing in his heart couldn't be denied. Could he become the man she deserved? He didn't know, but he saw a ray of hope. If he could stop the Golden Order, maybe he could forgive himself for what he'd done. Maybe he could stop hating the Almighty for allowing good men to go bad. If Matt could sit in church without knotting his fists, he could court Pearl without guilt. Everything depended on his ability to stop the Golden Order, and that mission depended on Tobias Oliver.

Matt saw a certain irony. For a man who didn't care for God or ministers, he was in a peculiar state of need. Whether he liked it or not, he had to depend on Tobias. He could only hope the man was more reliable than his God.

 

Pearl was arranging women's shoes when her father walked into Jasper's shop. It was Wednesday. He'd visited yesterday, too. Instead of chatting with her, he'd struck up a conversation with Jasper about the fire on Ferguson Street. Today they planned to have lunch together. Pearl found the friendship troubling. Her father needed friends, but he had nothing in common with the shopkeeper. When she'd mentioned his visit to the shop over supper, he'd brushed off her concern and changed the subject.

Tonight she'd speak to him again. In the few weeks she'd worked for Jasper, she'd lost what little respect she had for the man. Only the paycheck kept her working for him.

Her father offered a smile. “Hello, princess.”

“Hello, Papa.”

“Is Jasper here?” He patted his belly. “I'm ready for lunch.”

Jasper stepped out of his office. “It's good to see you, Reverend.” The men shook hands as if they were old friends. “You're right on time. I appreciate punctuality.”

“I do, too.”

So did Pearl, but she didn't watch the clock like Jasper. The one on the wall read 11:55 a.m. He'd be back at exactly one o'clock.

Jasper indicated the door. “I hope you don't mind. I've invited Chester Gates to join us.”

“Not at all,” Tobias replied.

Pearl respected Mr. Gates even less than she respected Jasper. He'd visited the store twice. Both times he'd acted as if they'd never met. She could understand that he'd voted his conscience, but ignoring her was rude.

As the men left, she went back to arranging the shoes. She placed the first pair on the shelf and aligned the toes an inch from the edge. Jasper insisted on perfection. Once he'd measured her work with a ruler. As she arranged the next pair, the bell over the door jangled. She turned and saw Matt. As he took off his hat, his eyes darted around the store. “Is Jasper around?”

“He just left with my father.”

The tension left his face. “Good. I'd like a word with you.”

Her heart sped up. “About what?”

“The cookies.”

Pearl felt the warmth of a blush. Last night she'd had a heart-to-heart with Carrie. Not only had Carrie given Pearl her blessing when it came to courting Matt, but she'd also decided to play Cupid. Without telling Pearl in advance, she'd visited Matt and delivered cookies as a gift from both
of them. Pearl had protested that he'd get the wrong idea. Carrie had looked at her as if she'd lost her mind, then she'd told Pearl to be brave. Considering Carrie's graciousness, how could Pearl do otherwise?

Looking at Matt now, she felt a quickening of her pulse. “Carrie baked them.”

“I know,” he said. “She came to see me.”

“She told me.”

“Just so you know, things are square between us.” His eyes took on a twinkle. “Maybe she'll take a shine to Dan.”

“I hope so!” Pearl could easily hope for love for Carrie, but what about herself? Looking at Matt, she felt a quickening in her pulse. Should she encourage him? What did a woman do when a man interested her? Blinking, she thought of her offer to braid Sarah's hair. Matt had mastered the art, but there were other things a little girl needed to know.

With her cheeks warm, she smiled. “How's Sarah?”

“Just fine.”

“She's growing up fast.” Butterflies swirled in Pearl's belly. “I seem to recall I offered to braid her hair. You've gotten good at it, but maybe I could show her a different way to fix it.”

Matt's expression didn't change, but the air in the shop turned thick. Pearl felt foolish. “Never mind. I was just thinking—”

“No.” He waved off her objection. “She'd like that. She likes Toby, too. Maybe we could all go for pie after church.”

He looked as surprised at the invitation as she was. Were they talking about their children or the possibility of more than friendship? She searched for the answer in Matt's eyes and found confusion and hope, a mix that matched her
troubled thoughts. She had feelings for him, but she also had doubts about her ability to be a wife. She felt safe with Matt, but until now he'd belonged to Carrie. The thought of being courted by a man still terrified her, and those feelings came in a rush.

Her throat closed with apprehension. Abruptly she turned back to the shoes. “I can't. Not this Sunday.”
Not ever.

“Maybe during the week,” he suggested.

Pearl shook her head.

Silence hung like a sheet, but it did nothing to hide her nervousness. Her pulse started to race, and she landed back in Denver in Franklin Dean's buggy. If she'd never been attacked, she could say yes to Matt. She wouldn't have this fear. She wouldn't be trembling as she arranged shoes in a store owned by a hateful man.

Matt touched her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“I-I'm fine.”

How had she gotten into this mess? She didn't want to discuss her fears with Matt. “If you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work.”

As she nudged a shoe into place, Matt touched her shoulder. His touch couldn't have been gentler, but she startled like a deer and bumped into the shelf behind her. She would
not
let Matt see the painful memories, the fearful reaction she had to fight. She turned quickly back to the shoes. She moved one, then another. When Matt didn't budge, she finally looked at him. “Do you need something else?”

She saw knowledge in his eyes and felt transparent, as if her fears were marbles on display in a fragile glass bowl. Slowly, giving her time to retreat, he raised one hand and touched the braid wrapped tightly around her head, mimicking the touch they'd shared in the kitchen. She told herself to stay still, but her legs stepped back on their own.
She forced herself to look at him, but she couldn't find her voice.

Matt stared into her eyes. “I think I understand. You're not over being attacked, right?”

“Yes,” she murmured.

“You live with bad memories.” The lines around his mouth tightened into crevasses and his drawl thickened. “It's like walking through a field of gopher holes. If you step the wrong way, you fall and you break all over again.”

Looking into his eyes, she saw scars as vivid as her own. “You know what it's like.”

“I do.”

Aching for them both, she raised her chin. “I hope we can still be friends.”

“Sure,” he said gently. “I'd like that.”

She'd told the truth, but it tasted like a lie. She wanted more than friendship from Matt. She wanted to give him everything he needed. She just didn't believe she could. When she took a breath, so did he. He mentioned the Indian summer, and she agreed the weather had been too warm. She asked about Sarah, and he told a funny story. When they'd both relaxed, he said, “I better get going.”