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. Jasper belonged to the G.O., too. He’d been a founding member.
The news about Jasper’s secret made Matt wonder about the trouble at the Silver Slipper. What better way for the shopkeeper to hide his visit to the hog ranch than by attacking another place of prostitution? Chester Gates also had a beef related to the dance hall. The owner, Scottie Fife, had outbid him for some prime land. Whoever owned the property would make a fortune if the railroad expanded its headquarters.
Matt had taken “Go! Go! Go!” to be a command, but perhaps it had been a calling card. Everyone in Cheyenne knew G.O. stood for “Golden Order.” If these men had gone bad—a strong possibility, Matt had seen corruption in Texas—they had to be stopped before innocent people suffered.
Matt knew the cost of such violence and not as a victim. As long as he lived, he’d be ashamed of what he’d done in Virginia. Until that night, he’d been a man who prayed. Not anymore. He looked at Dan. “We need to keep an eye on the Golden Order.”
“I agree.” The deputy gave a sad shake of his head. “Jed Jones was a liar and a thief, but he didn’t deserve a necktie party.”
A lynching… Matt’s blood turned to ice. With every nerve in his body, he wished someone had stopped him and his men the night they’d tossed a rope over the branch of a tree. He couldn’t change what had happened to Amos McGuckin, but he could stop it from happening again. “We’ll stop these men. The only question is how.”
“Any ideas?”
“Not yet, but I’ll figure it out.”
Dan went to fetch his hat. “We won’t catch anyone sitting in the office. I’m going to take a walk.”
“Watch your step,” Matt replied.
As Dan passed Matt’s desk, he noticed the letters and put his hand over his heart. “Romeo…Romeo…”
“Shut up,” Matt joked.
Dan put on his hat. “You ought to take one of those ladies to see Romeo and Juliet at the Manhattan.”
The new theater offered fine plays and bad acting. The performance of Romeo and Juliet was said to be particularly awful. “Forget it,” Matt answered.
Chuckling, Dan walked out of the office, leaving Matt alone with the notes. He knew what the one from Carrie would say. Yesterday she’d invited him to bring Sarah to have supper with some cousins of hers, a minister and his daughter arriving from Denver. He figured the daughter was a little girl who liked to play with dolls. The note would be a reminder to come at six o’clock. The thought of an evening with a minister set Matt’s teeth on edge, but he could tolerate
