The woman stared at her reflection in the mirror and smiled, pleased with what she saw. The new cream made from sheep's placenta was working wonders for her skin - not that she really needed it - she was still very young. She smiled at herself again and turned to her lover. He stared at her with contempt. "You're really very vain, you know."
"I know - and I have reason to be." She walked towards him, and he couldn't take his eyes off her. He had such contempt for her - and for himself. He had given up everything for her - his home and family, his friends and business, his self-respect - everything. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled his lips down to hers. He kissed her passionately, but he could feel a lack of warmth in her response. He pushed her away, and she laughed.
"What's the matter, Mark? Are you regretting the choice you made?" She was taunting him, and he knew it, but still he took the bait.
"Damn you, you're no good!"
"Oh, I know that - I've known that for a long time, my dear. I let you love me, and, in return, you bought me some beautiful things. We've made a good bargain, you and I. I've been the beautiful trophy on your arm, decorated with clothes and jewelry purchased by you. Your friends are all jealous of you. They wish they had your nerve to walk away from some horse-faced wife and a bunch of whining brats."
Mark stood still with his fists clinched, wishing he could leave and go home to his wife and children. But all that was gone. Just over a year ago, he'd been content with his family and business, but then he'd seen Regan Miller across a ballroom and it had been as if lightning had struck. He'd become obsessed with her - unable to work, to eat or sleep, to do anything except think about her. Now she was his - had been his for several months - and he couldn't stand the sound of her voice. He opened his eyes and looked at her. She was laughing at him. It struck him that she sounded like an animal, and he moved towards her. She looked up at him as he came closer and laughed. She kept laughing at him as he struck her with his fist. She fell and lay still for a minute. Mark stared down at her in fascination. Blood was coming out of her nose - it was broken. Soon she'd have a black eye, and she wouldn't be beautiful. Regan started to get up, but Mark hit her again and again and again.
At last it was over. Regan was quiet - no more laughter. Mark stood over her, and lifted her up. Her face was a bloody pulp. All those delicate features were gone - he'd smashed them with his fists. He shook her, but she didn't respond. He realized that she wasn't breathing - hadn't been for awhile. He'd killed her. He'd given up his whole life for her, and now he'd killed her. He carried her to their bed and laid her down. Then he went to his desk, and took out his Colt. He put the barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger.
...
Sheriff Roy Coffee took the telegram from the clerk. "What is it, Davey?"
The young man swallowed. "It's a telegram from the sheriff in San Francisco. It's for Miss Amelia Miller, but I thought I'd better show it to you first."
Roy handed it back to the young man. "No, sir. This isn't the way you do your job, Davey. You know better than this."
Davey quailed and refused to take it from the Sheriff's hand. "Sir, I can't deliver news like this to Miss Miller. Not with her all by herself. Read it - you'll see what I mean."
Reluctantly, Sheriff Coffee scanned the telegram. It was bad news for Amelia Miller, and he couldn't blame Davey for not wanting to deliver it. He hated to do it himself. He folded the paper up and put it in his pocket. "All right, Davey. You go on back to work. I'll take care of it."
Davey left, and Roy walked down the street to the church. It was empty so he went next door to the parsonage. Andy Reid was pushing his sister, Joy, in a swing, but he stopped when he saw Roy and ran to greet him. "Hey, Mr. Roy!"
Roy tousled the ten-year-old's hair. "Hey there, Andy. Is your Pa home?"
Four-year-old Joy clasped the Sheriff's leg, and he swung her up on his hip. "Hey there, Pretty! How are you today?"
Reverend Dave Clayton heard the noise and came out to greet Roy. The Sheriff was a regular visitor, and the children's unofficial grandfather. "Roy, it's good to see you." He clasped Roy's hand and led him into the house. Lucy, the Reverend's pretty wife, came out of the kitchen. She was several months pregnant, and glowing with happiness. "Can you stay for dinner? I'll set an extra place."
"No, thank you, Lucy, I just need to see Dave a minute." Dave led Roy into his office and closed the door.
"What's wrong, Roy?" Roy took the folded telegram from his pocket and handed it to Dave. He read it through and signed. "Poor Miss Amelia. Was Regan her only family?"
"As far as I know. Their mother died when Regan was born, and Judge Miller died when they were - oh, I guess about thirteen and fourteen. They went to live with their Aunt Susan, the Judge's sister, and she died a few years ago. She left everything to Amelia and Regan, including her house, but Amelia's the only one who lived there. Regan lived in San Francisco - well, she made one visit home last year, but I guess Virginia City was too quiet for her. She was here for a few months, and I thought she and Hoss Cartwright might make a match, but things didn't work out, and she went back to the big city."
Dave sighed. "Does Miss Amelia know?"
Roy shook his head. "Not yet - that's why I came by for you. I was hoping you'd go out there with me when I tell her."
"Of course, but let me get Mrs. Greer to go out there with us. It might help to have another woman present."
Roy walked back to his office and got his horse. He rode back down the street, and gave Joy and Andy rides on Whiskey's back while he waited for Dave and Mrs. Greer. Lucy brought him a cup of coffee while they were waiting. "Is it bad news, Roy?"
Roy nodded, and Lucy said, "Poor thing. If there's anything she needs...anything I can do...we'd be happy to have her come stay with us for awhile if you think it would help."
Andy heard the last part of the conversation and didn't know what it was about, but he wanted to be helpful. "If somebody needs a place to stay, they can have my room, and I'll sleep on the settee."
Roy smiled as he ruffled Andy's hair. "You're a kind little fellow, Andy." He looked up as Dave drove up in the buggy with Betsey Greer.
Andy and Joy ran to greet her. "Hey, Miss Betsey! Are you here for dinner?" If Roy Coffee was the children's unofficial grandfather, Betsey Greer was their adopted grandmother. The widow of Virginia City's former minister, she had worked as Dave's housekeeper when he came to pastor the church. They were as close as mother and son, and she had played matchmaker for him and Lucy after the death of Lucy's first husband. Both of them blessed her for it.
...
The ride out to the Miller place was quiet as Roy, Dave, and Betsey thought about how best they could help Amelia through this difficult time. Roy had decided not to show Amelia the telegram unless she asked to see it. There was no good reason for her to know how Regan died. The man responsible for it was dead, and there was nothing to be done except to bury them.
Dave pulled the buggy to a stop in front of the Miller house, and helped Betsey down. Roy tied Whiskey off and they mounted the steps together. Amelia heard them coming, and she opened the door before they knocked. She smiled when she saw her friends. "My goodness, all three of you. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"
Betsey stepped forward and took her hands. "Amelia, Roy has something to tell you. May we come in and sit down?"
Amelia looked at her a little uncertainly, and then led the way to the parlor. When everyone was seated, Roy began. "Miss Amelia, I've got some bad news for you. I got a telegram from San Francisco this morning from the sheriff there. Regan - well, Miss Regan is gone."
Amelia didn't understand him at first. "Gone? Where?"
Roy looked at Dave helplessly, and the minister took over. He knelt in front of Amelia and took her hands in his. They were ice cold. "What Roy is trying to tell you, Miss Amelia, is that your sister is dead."
Amelia's face turned white as she stared into Dave's eyes. She looked at Betsey who nodded in confirmation of the news. "Regan - dead? How? She was young and healthy and strong."
Roy sighed. "She was murdered, Amelia, and the man who did it shot himself after he killed her."
Amelia hid her face in her hands. "Dear God." Betsey put her arm around Amelia's shoulders and pulled her close as the younger woman began to sob. Roy wished for the millionth time that his late wife, Mary, were here, and then he thought what Mary would do in this situation. He went to the kitchen, and made tea. It was strong and bitter, and he slopped some of it into the saucer when he carried it to Amelia. She took a sip and coughed. Roy looked so helpless she felt sorry for him, and so she drank it down.
"Why don't you come back to town with us, Amelia?" Betsey suggested. "Spend a few days with me, and you can decide what you want to do."
"I know what I have to do - I have to bring her home," said Amelia. She pleated the folds of her skirt nervously. "I have to make arrangements - no, I have to go to San Francisco to get her - she can't travel all that way alone.
"Betsey, why don't you go put a few things in a bag for Miss Amelia," Roy suggested. "She can stay with you while she makes arrangements." Betsey left the room and went to Amelia's bedroom. They could hear her moving around, taking clothes from Amelia's chest and putting them in a carpetbag.
Roy sat down next to Amelia. "Now, you listen to me, young lady, you can't go to San Francisco to get your sister. You're upset and in no shape to travel. You'll come back to town, and Dave and Betsey and Lucy and me will put our heads together to see about getting Regan home."
It had been a long time since anyone had been so direct with Amelia Miller, but she recognized that Roy spoke as a concerned friend, and she was grateful. When Betsey came out with her bag, she let Dave boost her up to the buggy's back seat. Betsey sat next to her, and the sad little party made its way back to town.
...
That evening Roy and Dave rode out to the Ponderosa. They helloed the house, and Ben swung the door open wide. He smiled when he saw them - he considered them dear friends - and he welcomed them inside. Adam and Little Joe were playing a game of checkers, and they looked up and smiled.
"Ben, is Hoss around?" Roy asked.
"Why, yes, he's out in the barn. One of our mares is about to foal, and Hoss wants to be there to help her."
"Well, I reckon I'll just step out there and speak to him then," said Roy. He went out to the barn while Dave stayed in the house with the rest of the Cartwrights.
The barn was dark, but Roy could just make out a dim light in one of the stalls. "Hoss? Hoss?"
"Right here, Pa," Hoss stood up and stepped out of the stall. "You got here in time to see the prettiest little lady." He recognized Roy. "Oh, sorry, Roy - I didn't realize it was you. Come here and see our new little mare."
Roy looked at the wet, spindly-legged little creature, and thought he'd never have described a newborn as pretty, but then that was Hoss Cartwright. He loved all living creatures.
"Hoss, I've got something to tell you and something to ask you."
"Well, go ahead, Roy," Hoss had picked up a handful of straw, and was wiping the newborn down with it.
"It's bad news, Hoss," he warned.
Hoss stopped wiping the foal and stepped out of the stall.
"What's wrong?"
"It's Regan Miller, Hoss - she's dead."
Hoss stared at Roy in shock, and then turned away. He was silent and then he asked, "How?"
"She was beaten to death. The man who did it shot himself - he's dead," the sheriff added quickly as Hoss turned to look at him. "The sheriff in San Francisco wired me this morning - they figure it was a lovers' quarrel."
Hoss sighed, and stood with his back to Roy, his head down.
"Dave, Betsey Greer, and I rode out and told Miss Amelia this morning. She came back to town with us, and she's staying with Betsey for a few days. The thing is, Hoss, she's got it into her head that she wants to bring Regan home."
"She can't make a trip like that by herself," Hoss muttered.
"She can't make a trip like that at all, Hoss," Roy told him. "Anyway, I was wondering if you - I'd do it if I could leave town right now, but there's a trial coming up, and I have to testify..."
"It's all right, Roy, I'll go." Hoss said.
Roy let out a deep sigh of relief. "Thank you, Hoss, I'll tell Miss Amelia." Roy went back to the house to find Dave, Ben, and Adam discussing local politics. He and the pastor left shortly after. On the ride back into Virginia City, Roy asked Dave, "Did you tell them?"
"No, not with Little Joe there - he's young and curious, and I didn't want him bothering his brother with questions. Hoss can tell them when he's ready."
...
It was late when Hoss came in from the barn. Adam was sitting in his blue chair reading, and he looked up as Hoss went up the stairs. He was quiet, and didn't acknowledge Adam's greeting. He read awhile longer, and then got up and went upstairs. He went to his room, built up the fire in the stove, and lit his lamp. Then he went down the hall, and tapped on Hoss's door. There was no answer. Adam knocked gently again, and, when there was no answer this time, eased the door open. "Hoss?" he whispered.
The room was dark and cold. Adam slipped inside, and could just barely make out his brother's large shape in the dim moonlight. He was standing in front of the window. "Go away, Adam."
"No, I won't leave you alone," he said. "You don't have to talk to me, but I won't leave you alone." He built up the fire in the stove, and sat down on the edge of Hoss's bed. After awhile the room began to warm up, and Hoss said, "Regan's dead, Adam."
Adam caught his breath. Of all the things he'd imagined that the sheriff would want to tell Hoss, he hadn't considered the death of Regan Miller. "What happened?"
Hoss turned around, and Adam could just make out the streaks of tears on the big man's face. Hoss made no attempt to hide them. "She was beaten to death. The man who did it shot himself. I'm glad he's dead, otherwise I might kill him. Roy said the sheriff in San Francisco figured it was a lovers' quarrel."
"I'm sorry, Hoss."
"Yeah, me, too." Hoss turned back around to the window. He stood looking out. "I'm going to get her and bring her home. It's what Miss Amelia wants, but she can't make the trip herself."
What about you, Adam thought, that's a long, sad journey for you. Aloud he said, "When do you leave?"
"First light tomorrow."
"Well, I guess you'd better get some sleep then." Adam stood up. "Good night, Hoss." He waited for a minute, but Hoss didn't respond, and Adam left him, still staring out into the darkness.
...
Hoss made his way quietly down the stairs. He hadn't been to bed at all, but he wasn't tired - just numb. He saw that the lamps were lit in the great room, and he looked over to see Adam sitting at the table.
"I've got the horses hitched to the wagon, Hoss. As soon as you eat breakfast, we'll be ready to go."
"What?" Hoss didn't understand.
"I thought we'd drive the wagon to Carson City, and then take the train to San Francisco." Adam explained.
"You're going with me?"
"Yeah - well, I talked to Pa about it last night, and he agreed with me that you didn't need to make this kind of trip by yourself."
"It's real nice of you, Adam, but you don't have to come with me," said Hoss.
"I know I don't have to - I want to." Adam didn't say anything else, but he didn't need to. The Cartwrights took care of each other.