I am not receiving notifications on reviews or posting of chapters. I have responded to reviewers and hope they are arriving. Thaks to all readers for your interest.

II

A noise pulled Sibella from a disturbing dream about Adam kissing an unknown woman; it didn't matter who the woman was, just that it wasn't her and she was in agony. Opening her eyes to the low light of a lamp, she saw Adam, shirtless, checking his pistol.

"What is it, Adam?" she asked, sitting up in bed.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Sibella. I didn't mean to wake you. Just checking the gun." He opened the nightstand drawer and placed the gun inside, closing it with some finality.

"Why?" she asked.

He slipped off his trousers and tossed them over a chair, doused the lamp and slid under the sheets. "I haven't checked it in a while; it was just time." He leaned toward her and slipping an arm around her waist, pulled her into his arms. She lay with her head on his chest. He sighed and then said, "Goodnight, sweetheart," and kissed the top of her head.

Now was the time to ask. "Adam, what did Jess want?"

"Nothing to concern you. It's business."

"Yes, but what kind of business?"

"Not yours. Now, I'm really tired. Let me sleep."

"Adam. I have a right to know…."

"Sibella, let me sleep. You can interrogate me tomorrow."

She knew he was annoyed but she couldn't help herself; she had to know. And why shouldn't she know? It seemed that with the revelation that Adam and Meg had once been lovers, her security in Adam's love was questioned. The more she ruminated over the matters of the evening, the more she wanted to know about him and Meg. If she had to confess to eavesdropping to find out, she would; after all, Adam wouldn't be able to deny it if she could parrot back Jess' words. But would he deny it? Would he out and out lie to her face? But did she really want to know? Maybe once she knew the truth, she would be devastated. Perhaps it was better she not know. Her pulse raced and she sat up, Adam's arm falling away from about her. He moved slightly and she looked at him asleep. How gentle and peaceful he looked with his lips slightly parted, his brow relaxed. He rolled onto his side and she decided against waking him; he certainly wouldn't be amenable to questions. Tomorrow was soon enough, she told herself and curled up against her husband's back, listening to his steady breathing. Tomorrow, she would ask him and brook no excuse.

~ 0 ~

When Sibella woke, the house was quiet and Adan's side of the bed was empty. She slipped her hand over the spot where he had slept and it was cold; he had been up awhile. Sibella slipped on her wrap and her slippers, then headed downstairs where the smell of coffee wafted from the kitchen. Mrs. George was humming while she arranged items for dinner. The small vegetable garden was beginning to grow with the start of spring but except for onions and potatoes that were stored in the root cellar, Mrs. George relied on the canned vegetables lining the cellar shelves. Turning, she saw Sibella looking cross.

"Morning, Mrs. Cartwright. Coffee?"

"Yes, thank you." She pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and sat down. "Where's Mr. Cartwright?"

"Oddest thing," Mrs. George said, pouring the coffee. "He was up, made his own coffee, so if it's not to your liking, don't blame me. You know how strong he likes it."

Sibella frowned. "Nothing odd about that." She reached for the cup and took a sip. Far too strong for her. "Make a new pot, would you, Mrs. George?"

"Of course, ma'am. But the Mister fusses so about wastin' provisions." She went to the sink and poured out the coffee. It was a sin to be so prodigal but Mrs. Cartwright, well, she didn't care much about such things. That's what happens, she thought, when a child grew up lacking nothing; they never knew the value of things. Let a person go through a childhood lacking a full belly every day, and they soon learned not to even waste a single bean left on a plate.

"Is that what's so odd," Sibella asked, "that my husband makes bad coffee? Doesn't seem odd to me." Sibella was in a snit and she itched for an argument; Meg was still on her mind.

"No, ma'am." Mrs. George put the coffee pot on the burner and then pulled out a chair and sat. "What was so odd was that when Moss and I rode up, the light was on in the kitchen and smoke was coming from the stovepipe. I came in and the Mister was standing at the counter eating last night's cold biscuits and drinking his own coffee. Said he had early business at the office and that you were still sleeping and not to wake you. Then he quickly drank another cup of coffee and out he went.

"Now, doesn't that seem odd to you? Here it is, a Thursday and he's gone into the office. And he wasn't even wearing a suit—just his work clothes, you know, that chamois jacket and his work boots. I just find it odd." With that and a sigh, Mrs. George pushed herself up from the table and went to the counter and its display of food. "Though I'd make a roast from some of that fresh beef your father sent up yesterday. Such a kind, thoughtful and handsome man. But before I start my day's baking, what would you like for breakfast? How about some buckwheat pancakes? Or some coddled eggs?"

"I'm not very hungry. Just let me know when the coffee's ready. I have business in town as well." Sibella left the table and with her silk wrapper swishing about, took the stairs quickly. If she hurried, she'd make it there before Adam became too involved in whatever his business was that was none of hers.

~ 0 ~

Sibella fumed in silence as she sat in the buggy beside Moss who drove along the rutted road to Virginia City. She was dressed in her riding habit as she had intended to ride Delilah, her little roan mare, into town but when she asked Moss, the man Adam hired to do small chores about the place, to saddle her horse, he said he was under strict orders to keep Sibella at home. "You let her leave, and you better leave as well—and keep on going or I'll skin you alive and tack your wrinkled, sunburnt hide next to that wolf skin on the side of the barn," Adam had threatened.

When Moss had tried to explain to Mrs. Cartwright why he couldn't saddle up her little horse, she was adamant she was going into town. "You cannot stop me from leaving, Moss. I don't care what my husband said. Now, if you won't saddle her, I will!" Sibella went to Delilah's stall to bring out the horse but Moss blocked her way. "Get out of my way, Moss, or I'll fire you myself!" She felt helpless but set her jaw, hoping to intimidate him. She liked Moss, a harmless old man as thin as a blade of grass but he was in her way.

"Mrs. Cartwright, please listen to reason! He told me…why he said he'd skin me alive and nail my hide to the barn wall. How about we do this? Might keep us both from trouble. What if I drive you into town, you know, watch over you? I think the Mister might say that's okay, that is, as long as I go along. I can have the buggy hitched in no time." Moss waited and he looked so truly fearful that Sibella conceded.

"Oh…all right. Just hurry. Please." Adam had once softly chastised her for haughtiness and emphasized that politeness went a long way with people so she always made it a point to say "please," albeit usually insincerely, even if the other person had no choice but to do her bidding. She watched in silence while Moss scurried about, not sure whose anger he feared the most—Mr. or Mrs. Cartwright's.

The familiar structures of Virginia City rose in the near distance and once on the main street that ran through the center of the town, Sibella told Moss to let her off in front of the building which housed Cartwright and Sons. Moss looked at her and was going to protest, surmising Mr. Cartwright wouldn't care for that; better Mrs. Cartwright run her errands without her husband knowing she was in town, but he did as told—especially when she added, "Please." And after he helped her down from the buggy and watched her enter the building, Moss wondered what he would do after Mr. Cartwright fired him.

"Good Morning, Miss Pear," Sibella said as she breezed into the office.

Miss Pear stopped her typing, quickly rose and rushed about her desk, blocking Sibella from the door of Adam's office. "Mrs. Cartwright, this isn't a good time. Mr. Cartwright is in discussion with…"

"His father," Sibella finished for her. She could hear the raised voices and quickly recognized Ben's stentorian tones but the thick door with the smoked glass window prevented her from making out the words. Damn those doors, all doors! It seemed as if all of heaven and earth was conspiring to block her way! "I can hear that, Miss Pear, but he's my father-in-law, my family as well as my husband's and I don't think he would mind my disturbing them." She tried to move around Miss Pear but the amanuensis quickly side-stepped, blocking her again.

"Mr. Cartwright told me they weren't to be disturbed."

"Well, I'm sure he didn't mean me!"

"He made no exceptions, Mrs. Cartwright. Now, you can wait out here, if you like but I'm sure you must have shopping to do. Perhaps a new hat or gloves or such." Miss Pear highly disapproved of Mrs. Cartwright. She was too young, too foolish, cost too much to keep and far too vain and superficial to be the wife of Adam Cartwright. He was such an admirable man, so honest and brave and handsome. And he was educated, something so few men were. Why he had risen in ranks to become a captain in the Union Army and Miss Pear had nothing but respect and adoration for him, was honored to have been hired as his private secretary; if she had to stand spread-eagle against the door to keep Mrs. Cartwright from entering her boss' office, she would.

Sibella studied Miss Pear and decided she would wait so turning on her heels, she sat in one of the striped wing chairs next to a potted palm. The voices behind the door continued and Sibella knew Adam and his father were arguing. She wondered if it was about her and the furniture she had ordered from North Carolina. It was a booming, post-war business but many still eschewed doing business with southern companies. But no, that wouldn't be it. Her father-in-law seemed truly fond of her and would have indulged her no matter where she chose to purchase the dining set. After all, she was the daughter of one of his oldest friends, Francis Atherton! As for the loud discussion, perhaps even an argument between the two Cartwrights, Sibella decided it was probably about Jess and Meg Starling. Her heart stepped up and she knew she had to find out what was going on. That was probably the reason for Adam's order that she be kept at home; something about Meg. Yes, and that was probably the reason he wanted Mrs. George's room in the house quickly completed. But how could she get inside to discover the exact reason?

"Miss Pear, could I impose on you for a cup of coffee? Please?" A coffee pot stood on a small stove on the far side of the room, a small table holding cups next to it. In the summer, the only drink was from the water crock as it was then too warm to have the stove going. Miss Pear looked up from her work and then at the stove, undecided. "Never mind. I'll get it myself." Sibella rose and headed for the stove but once in front of the door, reached for the doorknob. By the time Miss Pear reached her, the door knob had been turned and the door was slightly opened. "Mrs. Cartwright, I told you…" but it was too late. Sibella opened the door even more and saw her husband and his father looking at her, both surprised.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Cartwright. I tried to tell her that you didn't want to be disturbed but she slipped by me."

"It's all right, Miss Pear."

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Cartwright!" Miss Pear was obviously distraught.

"She is a slippery one—like a weasel. Thank you, but you can leave us." Miss Pear, giving Sibella one last look of disdain, went back to her work.

Ben Cartwright stepped toward Sibella and took her gloved hand in his, kissing her cheek. "How nice to see you, Sibella. Are you in town for the day?"

But before she could answer, Adam said, "Sibella, you weren't to leave the ranch."

"Adam, I'm not a child and if I can get by Cerberus, your secretary, don't you think I can get by Moss?"

"I suppose it was foolish of me to think anyone could stop you from doing anything. What is it you want, Sibella?" Adam asked, not yet approaching. "That is, other than to see Moss get sacked."

"It's not his fault, Adam. I just wanted…." Suddenly, Sibella realized she had been so bothered all morning that she hadn't created an appropriate explanation, a small lie but one Adam would believe; he always managed to ferret out the truth but maybe, just this one time, she could get away with it. "I thought I'd buy a new pair of dress gloves. The milliner has some new white gloves with little pearls as the closures and I thought they'd go well with that blue dress, you know, the one with the sweetheart neckline." Silently she blessed Miss Pear for the idea.

"And that's why you came to see me? To get permission to buy gloves? Really, Sibella. You can come up with something better than that." He snorted and turned to his father. "Would you take Sibella home, Pa? And see she stays there? Hog-tie her if you have to."

"But, Adam," she protested, "I haven't yet bought the gloves and I was considering a new hat as well. Look at this riding hat?" She pulled out the hat pins and held the hat for Adam to see. "It's become worn around the brim. I would think you'd be ashamed to have your wife wear such a shabby hat."

"Go home, Sibella. Don't make me tell you twice." She started to open her mouth to respond but decided to remain silent; Adam, in a mood like this was not to be trifled with. "Pa, we can discuss the matter later. I'll swing by before I head home."

"All right, Adam." Ben gathered himself, suppressing his anger. He turned to Sibella, smiling. "This day is turning out far more pleasant than I thought. Lunch with the loveliest Cartwright."

Both Ben and Sibella knew they were being dismissed but instead of taking offense, Ben Cartwright gave Sibella his arm and said his goodbye to Miss Pear. He heard Adam's office door firmly closed behind them.

"Would you like lunch first?" Ben asked her as they stepped out into the sunlight.

"First?" Sibella was confused.

"Before the gloves and hat? Or after? Unless those were just a ruse." His brows rose questioningly.

Sibella felt her face grow hot. "Am I that obvious? Yes, they were a ruse. I know I should be ashamed but honestly, Adam can be so confounding! He doesn't tell me anything!"

"That's just the way he is; I'm sure he has your well-being in mind."

"Oh? What makes you so sure? Something he said?" Sibella waited but Ben said nothing. "Let's have lunch. But Moss is waiting the buggy to take me home. Shall I dismiss him?" Sibella so admired her handsome father-in-law, noticing how the men made certain to trade greetings with him and the women often smiled coyly when he tipped his hat to them. But most important to her, Ben Cartwright always took her side in any dispute with Adam even though they were both a bit intimidated by him. Adam had proved himself many times over to be correct in almost all matters. That, and the fact he "played his cards close to his chest" always kept not only Sibella, but Ben off balance.

"Well, I have orders to take you home myself so let Moss go. We'll get a buggy from the livery and take the scenic route home." Ben smiled down at her."

"Yes, why not!"

"Sibella, be honest. Do you enjoy these little games with Adam, trying to outsmart him?" Ben, a small smile playing about his lips, looked at his lovely daughter-in-law.

"No, not really. I don't know why I keep trying, Father. But honestly, if I told him the truth about everything, about what I think and such, why he'd probably leave me!"

Ben laughed heartily and patted Sibella's hand on his arm. "My dear, you could do the worst imaginable thing ever and I doubt he'd leave you—he might make your life miserable for a bit so you'd wish he would, but he wouldn't. Why that would just be punishing himself now, wouldn't it? There's Moss," he said, pointing. "We'll send him on his way and have some lunch. How do you feel about chicken-fried steak?"

"That would be lovely! Just no dessert!"