Chapter One

Was it some kind of omen or sign, or maybe an inkling of the coming times that it seemed to always rain at funerals?

While Adam stood quietly as rain water dripped from his hat, his face a blank canvas except for the slight crease of his brow, Shiloh lowered the hood of her cape and raised her face to the rain, letting it wash over her, hoping it would wash away the utter despair and guilt she felt. Chinese tradition had been followed for the period of mourning, the service and now the burial where the two Cartwrights stood wearing a white cloth over their shoulders among the Chinese mourners, all with their backs to the grave as tradition would have it.

When all was said and done, the throng walked quietly back to town. In the house of Hop Sing's family, Adam and Shiloh removed their mourning clothes and changed into other clothing before adding their funeral attire to a fire. Shiloh now stood alone in a dark corner, almost overcome by the incense burning in the room as Adam offered their condolences.

"Mista Adam, family thank you for offerings," Hop Sing said, bowing. He turned his attention to Shiloh who had cried with the rest of the family during the funeral...and hadn't quite stopped. "Not Missy Shiloh fault. You make understand."

"She was quite fond of Ming Lin," said Adam, looking worriedly at her. "She'll be all right in time."

The ride back to the Lake House was quiet save the occasional burst of thunder and the spatter of the horse's hoofs through puddles. Once inside the house, Shiloh went straight upstairs.

Adam stayed behind to stoke the fire in the living room. The rain had brought cold weather with it, and the house was chilly. It wouldn't be long, however that the big fire would bring warmth throughout the house.

"I thought I heard a buggy. How was the service?" asked Etta rather somberly as she walked in from the kitchen.

Adam wore a melancholy smile. "Quite different from what you might expect. It followed Chinese tradition. It seems a great many people in Chinatown held great respect for Ming Lin."

Etta frowned. Though it was not her place to go to the funeral, she had mourned on her own. Ming Lin had become a good friend. She took a step forward and lowered her voice. "And how is Shiloh?"

"She wasn't prepared for this. Kam Lee and Dr. Martin both told her the signs were favorable that Ming Lin would pull through." He looked at the top of the stairs. "It caught her by surprise."

"Hop Sing came by before he left for Virginia City and cleaned out Ming Lin's room."

"Yes, I know. Some of his things were at the wake. Some were buried with him," said Adam. "Don't worry about dinner tonight, Etta. I'm sure Shiloh won't be hungry, and I'll just have a sandwich...later. Right now, I'm going to look in on Shiloh." He started toward the stairs and stopped. "Where's Abel?"

"Oh, he's still sleeping. He was fussy without Shiloh to put him down for his nap, so he started his nap late. And Mrs. Slater is up in her room with Master Robbie."

Adam mouthed an 'Oh'. In all the concern over Shiloh and the funeral, he'd forgotten about their guests. "On second thought, perhaps we should have supper. Maybe I can convince Shiloh to come down."

"Well, in that case, tell her we'll have chicken pot pie. I found Ming Lin's...or rather Hop Sing's recipe."

Adam nodded as he turned and headed to the stairs, climbing slowly and straight-backed. He had no idea what to expect when he walked into the bedroom. Taking a tentative step into the door, he immediately saw Shiloh standing at the open French doors, the wind blowing in a light rain as it blew her hair back. He glanced into the nursery, and seeing Abel sound asleep in his bed, he quietly walked up behind Shiloh and moved his hands to her shoulders.

"We should close the doors. The rain's coming in," he said.

She stepped back and pulled the doors to, then stepped against them, laying her head against the glass.

"Sweetheart, you should change into some dry clothes before you catch a cold." He waited for a response and when there was nothing forthcoming, he moved his cheek against hers and moved his arms around her waist, but said nothing.

She squeezed his arm at the same time she rubbed her cheek against his and nodded. As she changed, her mind raced. The end of this year had proven to be trying at best. There was the rift between Adam and Joe because of the struggle between southern sympathizers and those loyal to Lincoln. It culminated in a verbal war surrounding the future of Nevada as a state. With a letter intercepted by Adam, a conspiracy to undermine the vote for Nevada to become a state championed by Judge David Terry was defeated. Even Ben's bid at the governorship had been stymied by a man from his past in New Orleans. In the end, Lincoln was re-elected and Nevada joined the Union, but not after damage was done. Joe's sudden involvement with Judge Terry's daughter had hurt Etta terribly, though she maintained a stiff upper lip. None of them were really speaking to Joe at the moment, though Adam had made inroads into repairing his relationship with his brother. There was some good that came out of it. Where Etta hadn't felt she could share her disappointment with her employers, especially because they were Joe's family, she found that Micah enjoyed Etta's company and was more than willing to listen. Since, Micah had become a frequent visitor.

Shiloh smiled. She'd never considered Micah and Etta, but they fit together so well.

Winter was taking its dear, sweet time to appear, and now, in mid-December with Christmas approaching, it had finally begun to turn cold.

"Why did the weather decide to turn now...for the funeral?" she thought out loud.

Adam turned his head. "What did you say?"

She plopped down on the side of the bed. "I was thinking how cold and gray it is today...of all days. I'm glad it's over."

Adam pushed his bottom lip up as he tucked a dry shirt into clean trousers. "It's really not over, you know."

"But he's buried," she said, looking back at him.

"Did you notice all the ritual today? The white cloth for us, some wore blue, some wore black, others wore bright colors. Then all the clothes were burned. The coffin was placed facing east. There's a lot more than that, and it will all culminate when they dig up Ming Lin's bones and send them home to China."

Shiloh sat straight up. "That would take some time."

"Mm hm." Now standing in front of her, he asked for her hand with his. "The process is sped up a bit by how the body is prepared."

Cutting her eyes up to his, she said, "I don't want to know." She gave him her hand, and he pulled her up into his arms. "Do you think you can come down for supper?" When she looked away, Adam said, "I know you don't have an appetite, but you need to try. Etta said she was going to make chicken pot pie."

Her eyes began to cloud. "Ming Lin always made that for me when I was feeling poorly."

Pulling her into a hug, Adam said quietly, "I'm sure Etta knows that."

It was quiet at the dinner table like it had been for so many evenings. Robert had been in San Francisco now for two months, and Evelyn was seriously missing him...and their home city where there was so much more to keep her occupied. Truthfully, she was bored.

"Evelyn, I almost forgot. A letter came for you today." Pushing himself up from the table, Adam said, "If you'll excuse me for a moment, I'll get it."

When he returned, Evelyn excitedly took the letter and ripped open the envelope. As she read it, her smile slowly disappeared. "He's staying in a hotel? Why isn't he staying in our home?"

Laying his fork on his plate, Adam looked at her. "Evelyn."

She continued to look at the letter.

"Evelyn," he said gently. "He's not suffering. He's at the Lick House. Mark and Keith felt they could protect him better there."

"He doesn't say anything about any trouble," she said, looking over the letter.

"There hasn't been any," said Adam, "and there's still been no sign of Daniel, which means either someone he's crossed has caught up with him...or he's working out how he's going to get to us. I think he feels if he waits long enough we'll let down our guard." Sliding a letter over the tablecloth to his wife, he said, "You got a letter, too...from Seth Asher."

Shiloh picked it up and opened it, but before she read it she looked up at Adam. "You contacted Ben Haggin, didn't you? Can I assume Mr. Haggin vouched for him since you didn't say anything else about him?"

Washing a bite of chicken down with water, Adam wiped his mouth and nodded. "Haggin had never met him, but he had heard the name. It turns out Asher was a marshal in Dakota Territory when he met, of all people, George Hearst. So I sent a telegram to Hearst who also vouched for him. He said he had a good eye when it came to horses. He wanted to introduce him to Haggin, but Asher declined. He said he wanted to make his own fortune, not someone else's."

Letting out the breath she held, she said, "Well..."

"Wait," Adam said with a raised eyebrow. "Roy sent a few telegrams as well. It appears Mr. Asher left his job as marshal under questionable circumstances. He hung a man without a trial and left right after. He'll have to answer some questions."

"Oh. Well, he's going to be here in January with his horses," said Shiloh, letting the letter drop to the table.

Adam picked it up and read it. "January? What does he think you can do in January?"

"Maybe he doesn't have a place for his horses," she said as she moved a spoon around in her chicken pie.

Now Adam cut his eyes over to Shiloh's, but with flared nostrils. "You don't have room to board horses."

"I can do limited training in January."

"We'll see. After Roy has a conversation with him."