8th May 1848
I finally arrived in Virginia City this afternoon and what a place. I was afraid for my life. Two saloons and I am certain I heard gun shots. The sheriff ran to the first saloon as I stood there. He took out his gun. What happened next I have no way of knowing as Mr Cartwright came up at that moment. I was so very relieved to see him. He shook my hand and introduced himself gallantly enough. I suppose if I were a younger woman I might have thought him handsome but I must say there is a coldness to the man. I don't know if I could ever warm to him. I should be more charitable, he lost his dear wife just over a year ago but I couldn't help but wonder what kind of a life she had with him. I can't imagine him capable of a warm embrace or a gentle kiss, just my impressions.
We headed out of the city in his fine horse and trap, such luxury after the cramped stuffy stagecoach. But heading out of town was for me both a blessing and a
curse. I had serious misgivings about being isolated on a ranch as much as Virginia city scared me.
Mr Cartwright told me all about his ranch. Apparently he had travelled half way across the country to find just the right spot. Although he seemed to love his land I could tell there was great sadness on that trail. All was explained when he told me Hoss's mother had died on the trail. Hoss is his oldest son. He has two boys. Little Joe the youngest is the child of his recently deceased wife.
Bless them, two of the loveliest boys you ever did meet. Joe came right up and stared into my eyes. He has a head of curls and the greenest eyes you ever did see. His face was sticky bless him and he clung to my skirts. If ever a child craved a mothers love. Mr Cartwright shewed him away and told Hoss to help with my luggage. Hoss seems nervous. He jumps to action on his fathers orders. He doesn't make eye contact either. I wonder is he just shy. He must be nearly a teenager. He is a big boy, hard to put an age on him. Mr Cartwright and Hoss brought my bags up to my room, a quaint little room on the second floor with ornate furnishings and a beautiful dressing table. I'm looking at it now. Hand painted roses decorate the side panels and the glass is the finest I've ever seen. I can see myself a little too well in it, every line and wrinkle. He must have bought it for his wife. It does look like it might have been a present.
Dinner was a solemn affair. Do they never laugh. The only respite I had from this strangely oppressive atmosphere was their Chinese cook. He has no fear to tell Mr Cartwright that he is late to dinner and hurry to serve the boys mash potatoes before they get cold. I like Hop Sing. I cut up little Joes meat, I could feel Mr Cartwrights eyes on me, he probably didn't approve but he'll soon find that I do things my way. Those two children need a good dose of love and as oppressive as I find this house this first night, I am determined that they are going to get it.