Chapter 7: The Comedy of Errors, Part 3

"Be not thy tongue thy own shame's orator."

III, ii, 10

Dusk was settling as Adam finally rode into Virginia City with his companions. He felt Cressie sagging against him tiredly and blew out his breath slowly in sympathy. His headache was reaching gargantuan proportions, throbbing mercilessly behind his eyes, and he reached up with his left hand to rub them. His right was almost useless now, swollen and numb and bleeding from the constant abuse of the manacle. There would be no clever gunplay, that was for sure. Pray heaven he wouldn't need it.

He cleared his anxious, aching eyes and sought out the Telegraph Office. The light was still on. He was longing to check there and see if Hoss or Joe had sent a wire to San Francisco - since he had no idea where Stacy had to go to contact Cressie's father he had no way of knowing whether or not he had had time to make his way to them yet with the ransom note. He glanced at Sheriff Struthers and Deputy Pratt with little hope.

"I - don't suppose you'd consider a quick side trip to the Telegraph Office?"

Sheriff Struthers, who was holding his sidearm on Adam while Deputy Pratt backed him up with his rifle, eyed him warily. "Sounds like you're hoping fer a distraction to me, son. How do we know it's not a trap?"

"Yeah, a trap?" echoed the Deputy suspiciously.

Adam grit his teeth in irritation, wondering if the deputy ever had anything original to say. Spitefully, he wished Cressie's aim had been better.

"Fine," he hissed, steering Sport toward Roy Coffey's office.

He was almost there when he heard his name being called. He turned and looked down as Miss Beardsley, the milliner's assistant, rushed toward him, accompanied by a young man he didn't recognize.

"Adam," she said breathlessly. "Adam - I just have to tell you - I think you're wonderful. Joe told us all about it - it's just the bravest thing I've ever heard."

Adam stared at her, uncomprehending.

The young man with her removed his hat respectfully. "Reckon this is Miss Rowena, huh?" he said, gazing at Cressie with admiration. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am. Now, don't you worry none - we here in Virginia City don't cotton to any of that there slick stuff - we'll look out for you."

Adam couldn't see Cressie's face, but he could feel her shift against him. He glanced uneasily at his arresting lawmen. "What - ?" he began, but was interrupted by the young man, who was also frowning at the lawmen and the guns they had trained on Adam.

"Say - " he began darkly, "You ain't them Rishy-loo and Monty-bank fellers, are you? Cause if you is, I gotta tell you - "

His hand hovered over his gun and, picturing an impending tragedy, Adam interrupted hastily, "They are the Sheriff and Deputy of Clarendon, so please don't shoot. What on earth - ?"

The young man dropped his hand and nodded sagely. "Finally got yerself some help, huh? Gotta say I think that's wise. Best not to tackle these things alone, specially when there's a little girl involved."

"What - "

"What do you know about the little girl, son?" interrupted the Sheriff, beginning to be uneasy.

"Well, just about everything." The young man looked a little smug. "Joe told us."

"Joe." Adam shook his head. "Told you - ?"

Miss Beardlesy touched his stirrup reverently. "Really, it was so noble of you, Adam. So gallant. Pleased to meet you, Miss Rowena."

"Her name is not - how did Joe - "

The Sheriff puffed out his cheeks. "I think you two better come with us to Sheriff Coffey's. I'll wanta hear yer take on things."

Miss Beardsley's eyes opened wide with surprise. "You didn't tell them, Adam?" Her expression melted. "But of course - you're too modest. Too humble."

"I am not - " Adam felt the throbbing in his head rise to a roar. "What in the name of - " He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Tell me exactly - "

"At the Sheriff's." said Struthers firmly. "I only wanta have to do this once."

Adam grit his teeth again, harder this time. "Fine," he repeated, even more irritably. He gestured apologetically to Miss Beardsley and her escort. "I'd be much obliged…"

"But of course, Adam!" Miss Beardsley clasped passionate hands to her bosom. "We'd be honored!"

Adam shook his head, at a loss. "Well, that's - that's - thank you." He helped Cressie dismount and then followed. The sudden change in elevation made the street heave for a moment and he stood still, clinging to the saddle horn, waiting to regain his balance.

"No stallin'," said Deputy Pratt dully, poking Adam in the back with a rifle.

Adam set his jaw and promised himself that as soon as he felt a little better he would flatten that deputy. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Cressie move forward and Pratt back up so hastily he almost tripped over the Sheriff. Adam grinned, despite the pain in his head. Or maybe he'd just let Cressie take care of it for him.

Sheriff Struthers gave his deputy a look of exasperation. "If yer done dancin' there, Earl, maybe we can get on in and settle this thing?"

Earl glared at Cressie.

Cressie glared back.

"Sher thang, Sheriff, " he grumbled, following Adam, at a discreet distance this time.

Adam led the way into the bright interior of the Sheriff's office, blinking a little as the light hit his tired eyes.

Just a few minutes with Roy and at least this part of the nightmare would be over. He could find out about the telegram, go back to the ranch - he was disappointed to see Dooley Jaspers settled comfortably at Roy's desk. A little too comfortably - Dooley hastily dropped his feet from the desk surface to the floor when he recognized Adam.

"Oh, hey, there, Adam!" he called sheepishly. "What kin I do fer you?"

Adam was still looking hopefully around for Roy. "I'd like to see Roy, Dooley. He here?"

"No, no - I'm watching the place fer right now. Roy's - "

Adam waved his hand impatiently. "On rounds maybe? How about Clem?"

"Well, Clem's with Roy, see. They - say, Adam - lookee here. This must be that Miss Rowena."

"Miss - ?" Adam took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. "Why does everyone keep saying that? Her name is not Rowena! I'm not sure anybody's name is Rowena! Where did you get the idea - ?"

Dooley snapped his fingers. "That's right. I firgot. Joe said as how you were travellin' under an assumed name."

"He said - WHAT?"

The Sheriff eyed him somberly. "Uh-huh. That there would explain why the little girl keeps callin' him Adam."

"She calls me that because that's my - Dooley! Please. Tell me exactly - "

But Dooley was gazing at Cressie. "She's a pretty thing all right, Adam, but - um - " he lowered his voice confidentially. "Don't you think she's a little young fer you?"

"A little young for me to what?" Adam roared in exasperation. "I don't know what you're talking about! I don't know what any of you are - "

"It's that he took advantage of her young innocence, is what," put in Struthers darkly.

"I did NOT - "

"Oh, I think it's VERY romantic, myself!" insisted Miss Beardsley. "Age knows no barriers in the path of true love."

Cressie nudged Adam. "I told you." She smiled complacently.

Adam turned his head to glare at her. "You stay out of this," he snapped. "Now, would someone - "

"None o' my business o' course," offered Dooley with a shrug. "Just never seen you with a girl sa young before, Adam."

Adam narrowed his eyes at him. "Listen - if you're insinuating what I think you are - of course she's too young to be my - "

"Oh, I don't agree at all!" interrupted Miss Beardsley emphatically. "I think it's just perfect! After all, Adam's not even thirty, and she must be at least seventeen!"

Cressie slipped her arm into Adam's and beamed happily.

Dooley cocked his head at Cressie. "No mor'n sixteen, I'm thinking."

Cressie looked indignant at that. "I'm eighteen!" she interjected, deeply offended.

"Ah." Dooley nodded wisely. "That's okay then."

"It is NOT - she is NOT - " Adam sputtered, " - of COURSE she's too - "

Cressie leaned her head contentedly against his shoulder.

Adam shrugged her off as if she'd burned him. "And you cut that out!" He drew air deep into his lungs. "Now. Dooley. These men need to see Roy and I need you to tell me exactly where I can find him. He's not out on a posse, is he?"

Dooley raised his brows in surprise. "Course not, Adam - he's jest where you'd expect."

Adam closed his eyes, seeking patience, seeking control. "I'd expect him to be here, Dooley. And he's not. So where - ?"

Sheriff Struthers cleared his throat. "I got some questions fer these folks here first, son," he said briskly. "And how do I know this ain't a trap o' some kind?"

"Yeah." Deputy Pratt glared at him but eyed Cressie and kept his distance. "How?"

Adam sucked a deep breath through his teeth, then another. "I can not imagine how you think I could set up a trap this elaborate from that distance when I never even knew I was going to run into you! In the name of God, has everyone run mad?"

Miss Beardsley smiled indulgently. "He's tired," she explained sympathetically to the group at large.

"Yes, I am," admitted Adam tautly. "It has been…" He kneaded his neck. "I am. And I would give a lot to be peacefully at home in my own bed, but I have a number of things to settle before I can - what is it Cressie?"

"Adam," Cressie ceased her pulling on his sleeve and spoke so softly he had to lower his head to hear. "Adam, do these gentleman count?"

"Count?" Adam stared at her, bewildered. "Count as what?"

"You know…" she gestured with her head. "Toward my half dozen. You said I had to get to know…"

Adam's eyes widened in disbelief. "NO!" he bellowed. "They do NOT - Struthers is old enough to be your father, for God's sake, and the deputy…for heaven's sake, Cressie - "

He saw the assemblage staring at him and stuttered to a sudden stop, pressing his hand over his eyes. That yelling really had not helped his head.

"No offense," he mumbled apologetically.

Cressie's expression grew mulish. "Well, you said - "

Adam pushed the heel of his hand hard against his forehead, willing whatever was knocking so violently against the inside of it, apparently trying to escape, to stop. "Never mind what I said. We'll talk about this later. Right now…" he rubbed the hand over his face and looked about him. "Miss Beardsley. I am most interested to hear - whatever it is you've heard - but right now, more than anything, I need to find Roy. Dooley, if you can tell me, please - where is Roy? And have my brothers been in here inquiring after me? Don't tell me they're all out on a posse?"

Dooley looked surprised. "Why no, Adam - a course not. Like I say, they're all right where you'd expect them ta be. But maybe you've forgotten what day it is?"

Adam looked blank.

"It's Friday," Dooley prompted. "You know. They're all at the party."

"Party." Adam sighed deeply. Now they were getting somewhere. "And where is this party?"

Dooley gave him a peculiar look. "Well, shucks, Adam - at the Ponderosa, a course. Sure looks ta be a big one."

Adam grew very still. "I - beg you pardon?"

Dooley grimaced at something in his voice. "You know. The big - party."

Adam looked hard at Dooley until Dooley shifted uncomfortably.

After a full minute he ground out, very, very softly, "Are you telling me, that while I…" he dropped his hand and swallowed. "My brothers have been…"

Dooley winced. He could never figure out why that quiet tone of Adam's was scarier than when he yelled. He peeked at him nervously.

Adam was massaging the back of his head, his expression blank and unreadable.

"Figgered you be there, too, Adam," Dooley ventured cautiously. "I mean, if not fer Miss Rowena here - "

"Her name is NOT ROWENA!" Adam shouted. His head roiled in protest. "It is Cressida." He continued with quieter vehemence. "And we are going to the Ponderosa to find Roy and my two errant brothers. And I am telling you, when I find them - "

Sheriff Struthers spoke up. "You ain't goin' nowhere without me, son - why, yer under arrest - "

Adam turned his searing gaze on him and for a moment the Sheriff faltered.

"Oh, by all means, you come too," Adam suggested, his voice sibilant. "Come right along and I solemnly promise you, before the night is over, I will provide you with a REAL crime to arrest me for! Come along, Cressie!" He strode towards the door, pulling Cressie after him.

Struthers watched him with some consternation. "And just as you folks had me about convinced he was innocent! What crime's that, son?"

Adam balanced his hat on his splitting head, his eyes ablaze. "FRATRICIDE!" he hissed ferociously, and dragged Cressie out the door, slamming it behind him.

Sheriff Struthers stared after him thoughtfully, Deputy Pratt following his gaze.

"Sheriff," the deputy said after a minute. "What's Frat - frater - "

The Sheriff shook his head dumbly. "Don't rightly know, Earl. But it sure don't sound good! I reckon we'd better not lose sight of 'im. "

End of Chapter 7

TBC

Thank you so much for the kind wishes, drmweaver! But I guess I'm still having a better time than the Cartwright boys, whose separate worlds of trouble are poised to collide!

And you raise an interesting question nevadagal - what about Pa? This can't be what he envisioned happening when he left for San Francisco! Or - ever! And you're right - poor Adam!