This section has quite a bit of dialogue and may contain some typos. I've edited twice but will come back in a day or so and edit it here. Thanks for reading and all guest reviews will be removed.
V
Sibella sat next to Adam, the hood of her cape up; it was a chilly night for early spring. Jess was so distraught that Adam took the reins and glancing over her shoulder, Sibella saw Jess hunched over in the back, close to tears. She had never seen a man cry before and hoped Jess wouldn't; how does one comfort a crying man, she wondered? In a low voice, Jess repeated over and over to no one but himself, that it was all his fault; he should have gone to Sheriff Coffee. Meg was dead—he knew it—and had no one to blame but himself. Sibella realized that she hadn't brought her reticule and had no hanky to offer him should he start sobbing, but then Adam didn't pull out his handkerchief to offer Jess. And Sibella wondered, didn't Jess always slip a handkerchief in his pocket as every gentleman did? What if he sneezed or had to wipe his nose? Sibella suddenly felt silly considering such things. Meg was probably dead and here she was thinking about hankies. And what if, upon finding Meg's body, she wondered, Adam cried? How would she comfort him?
Adam was silent, letting Jess berate himself in the back of the buckboard, and Sibella imagined he was in agreement with Jess' conclusion that it was truly his fault. She peeked at Adam from under the wool hood and in the dark with his hat shadowing the top half of his face, all she could see was his jaw and its working muscle, the only "tell" he was restraining his emotions. So, Sibella remained quiet on the trip, letting her husband wrestle with his feelings.
Virginia City was relatively quiet. There was still jangling piano music from the saloons to attract customers but since it wasn't a Friday or Saturday night, the miners, lumbermen and cowboys weren't in town spending the money they had just labored the past few days earning. Adam pulled the buckboard alongside the sidewalk in front of the sheriff's office and after setting the brake, jumped down to assist Sibella. Jess crawled out of the back and straightening his jacket, he entered the office first, Sibella and Adam behind. Deputy Foster was napping, the chair tipped back against the wall, his hat pushed low over his eyes and his feet on the desk; the room, heated by a stove in the corner, was overly warm and forced Sibella to lower her cape's hood and unhook the frog at the throat; the cape hung open and she was suddenly aware she was wearing a day dress, not something in which to go about in public. Adam often teased her, accused her of vanity and she had to admit she was, but the cotton print dress was highly inappropriate; she may as well be wearing a nightgown! She reached up to smooth her hair and adjust the collar.
"Clem!" Adam said. "Clem!"
Clem pushed his hat back and quickly took his feet off the desk, dropping the chair's front legs with a thud. He looked at the three visitors. Seeing Mrs. Cartwright, Clem quickly stood and tipped his hat her way. "Well, what brings you three out this late?" Clem Foster considered himself a good judge of situations and it seemed that Mrs. Cartwright was more of an observer, Adam Cartwright had taken control and Jess Starling, well, Jess was puzzling. He seemed to be eager to speak and yet…he said nothing. It was Adam who spoke.
"We'd like to speak with Roy. No offense, Clem."
"No offense taken, Adam." Clem knew Roy and the Cartwrights went way back. "But Roy's home, might even be asleep. I should be able to handle a complaint or problem but if you insist on speaking to Roy in his capacity as sheriff, well, I can go get him." Clem waited, noticing Mrs. Cartwright looked to her husband. Jess had dropped into a chair, resting his face in his hands. He wasn't even wearing a hat. Clem considered it odd.
"Wish you would," Adam said.
"All right. Be back shortly." Clem started to leave but turned. "And help yourselves to coffee. Mrs. Cartwright," he added, tipping his hat as he walked out the door.
~ 0 ~
Sibella held the mug of hot coffee; the coffee tasted burnt, bitter. Adam had poured three cups but Jess had declined, just sat looking utterly distraught while Adam paced and sipped his coffee. He reminded Sibella of a panther she had seen in a train-cage of a traveling circus; it had paced back and forth in its small enclosure, eyeing the people who stared. And Sibella's heart had broken at what had become of the noble animal. Was that what marriage had done to Adam? Kept him from his natural state of freedom? Perhaps, Sibella considered, marriage was too constraining and that knowledge had kept him from marrying Meg, no matter how much he had loved her. How could Sibella know what she herself had done to him?
Roy quickly arrived with Clem following. After perfunctory greetings, Roy sat at his desk and Clem pulled a chair from the corner but sat outside the group to observe; Roy had suggested it.
"Now, what seems to be the problem?" Roy asked, his hands clasped on the desk's blotter. Adam turned to Jess.
"Jess? You're the only one who knows all the details."
Jess sighed, raising his head. He sat straighter and then, after quickly looking at Adam, faced Roy. "My wife was kidnapped three days ago—seems like longer."
Roy was taken aback by the news and opened a drawer, pulling out a pad of lined paper. For a few seconds, the only sound was the pencil as it scratched out a few words. "All right, Jess. Three days ago. That was Monday. How do you know she was kidnapped and not just gone visiting someone? A relative maybe? Two of you have an argument?"
Jess practically came out of his chair but Clem rose from his, ready to intervene and Jess sat back down.
"Sorry, Sheriff…it's just that…no, we did not have an argument. There was a note. On the kitchen table. I thought it was a note from Meg, you know, telling me where she had gone and what time to expect her. We always did that, let each other know where we were so as not to worry."
"Do you have the note, Mr. Starling?"
"No, no. Not with me. But I showed it to Adam, took it over for him to…" Jess was close to breaking down and they all sat quietly while he composed himself. "Actually, the note was written by Meg, I mean it was in her handwriting but it wasn't from her, not her words." He motioned to Adam. "Even Adam agreed with that. He's read letters from Meg before and he said it didn't sound like her, like someone was dictating what was written. I think they had her write it so their handwriting couldn't be matched to something else."
So, Sibella thought, I was right! It was someone in town, someone whose writing could be tracked to him. Adam would see, once she pointed it out, what a clever sleuth she was. Then he would let her help and not relegate her to housekeeping!
Roy shifted in his chair. "Well now, Jess, why'd you take it to Adam and not me?"
Jess dropped his head as if ashamed. "Because, for one thing, I needed to borrow the ransom money." He swallowed deeply before he continued. "The note asked for five thousand dollars in exchange for Meg's life. I don't have that much, at least not liquid, but I wired my father for it; said I wanted to make an investment. I couldn't tell him about Meg being kidnapped. He probably wouldn't have believed me anyway, thought it was a poor ruse for more money, but even if he had, he would've told me to go to the law, not to him, and besides that, the telegrapher would have known and he…he might have talked all over town about what he'd transcribed and…it doesn't matter now."
Adam looked startled, as if he'd just woken up. He opened his mouth to say something but didn't. He only ran his hand over his mouth and chin, yet he seemed to listen more closely.
"I waited in the Silver Dollar for a return wire. It came and my father said he wouldn't send any money. I almost went crazy after that. I tried to think of how I could raise the money, what I could sell. And then I thought of Adam and how he and Meg had once been…close and maybe, just maybe, I could borrow the money from hm."
Roy avoided looking at Sibella. He too remembered how the ladies in church often wondered when the eldest Cartwright would marry lovely Meg Brewster. He had wondered as well all those years ago. But then, out of the blue, Ben invited his old friend, Roy, to a reception for Adam and his wife and Roy was secretly charmed by the auburn-haired, blue-eyed beauty. He did like looking at her.
"All right," Roy said. "Do you remember the exact wording? I'll ride over for it tomorrow but if you could give me details now, it might help."
Jess looked up as if stricken. "No. I don't…" He quickly looked at Adam. "I can't remember the exact wording…everything is such a blurred…"
Adam answered for Jess, "It was brief. 'We have your wife and want $5,000 for her return.' Then, 'Wait for information on when to deliver money and where. If we see a lawman, she won't be returned or won't be worth having back.' That was basically it."
"Anything special about the paper?" Roy asked, holding his pencil. "Maybe the color of ink or anything like that?"
"It was on Meg's personal stationery, a birthday gift two years ago. I had her initials embossed at the top, and she kept it in the writing desk in the parlor. But it was written with a pencil, not the fountain pen that I'd bought the same time as the stationery. I figured they were in a hurry and didn't want to take the time with ink and blotting and…" Jess's voice just died and he rested his elbows on his knees, dropping his head.
"So, you delivered the money?" Roy asked, encouraging Jess' to move on. "Where'd you find that note? You have it?"
"Oh…I must have left it in the buggy shed when I hitched up the buckboard. I found it under a geranium pot on the front windowsill. I don't know when it was put there. I was home the whole time, just went out on the porch because I couldn't…I saw it when I was going back inside. The bottom half was hanging out."
"What did that note say?" Roy gave nothing away, not what he thought or how he felt, just asked questions, nodded at the answers, and wrote notations.
"Um…" Jess sat back up and ran a hand through his wavy hair. Looking at his profile, Sibella realized just how handsome Jess was. It was understandable how Meg could have fallen in love with Jess with Adam gone and the uncertainty of his return. And maybe it hadn't been love between her and Adam—not real love. Just desire. Sibella understood that, the primal hunger for a certain man.
"It said to come alone, that was underlined, the 'alone,' to the old Leprechaun Mine to drop off the money and I'd find out where Meg was. And no lawman."
"What kind of paper was it written on," Roy asked, "and was it in Meg's handwriting?"
"Yes, I recognized Meg's handwriting and..."
Sibella had a sudden thought and burst out with, "Maybe the kidnapper couldn't write." She noticed Adam looked at her and then his brow furrowed; he was considering her comment.
"Now," Roy Coffee said, "I shoulda thought of that. Let me make a note of that."
"Me too," Adam said. "I don't know why I didn't." Sibella saw a glint of admiration in Adam's eyes and she felt satisfaction.
"Was the note on her stationery?"
"No, no. The box of stationery had been left on the desk, open. This note was written on a piece of paper torn from a book, that page with the title on it."
"A book?" Roy was puzzled.
"Yes. Meg must have taken it with her; it was one of her favorites. She read it all the time. The Ruby…"
"The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam," Adam said, his face stiff, emotionless.
"Yeah, that's it. Come to think of it," Jess said, looking at Adam, "you gave it to her, didn't you?"
Adam nodded. "Yes, a few years ago. I thought she'd like it."
Sibella's hand went to her throat. Adam had given Meg a book, one she had never heard of before. And he had recommended that book about that ship's doctor, Gulliver, to her and she had said it was stupid, tossed it aside. Meg never would have done such a thing, Sibella was certain. No, Meg would have read it and together, she and Adam would have sat and discussed it and probably gazed lovingly into each other's eyes. Sibella made up her mind that no matter how silly that book was, she would read it and then think about it and discuss it with Adam. She would work hard to be the type of woman he wanted.
"So, you took the money to the mine. Did you find another note there?" Sheriff Coffee asked.
"Yes. It said to leave the money. It was only a blank sheet of paper, same paper as the previous but it was blank on both sides and written with a pencil but not by Meg. It was just plain block lettering, you know, like kids do when they're first learning their letters. I had wrapped the bills in my handkerchief and put a stone on it to keep it there in case the wind came up. It also said Meg was at the old Murphy homestead. I felt like someone was watching me the whole time I was at the mine, like a rifle was aimed at my back so I tried to be obvious about what I was doing. I got on the buckboard and drove to the homestead but Meg wasn't there. I waited until dark, about two hours or so. I searched the place, checked the attic, the root cellar, the barn even though it long ago collapsed on itself, called out for her, checked the area all about but…" Jess had to stop and recover his emotions before he could continue. "Then I thought maybe they wanted me out of the way, sent me to Murphy's so they could return Meg to the house, so I drove there but she wasn't home either. I looked all over the place, the whole house, the barn, everywhere and then I drove to Adam's. I needed a clear head because I was so…Meg's dead. I know it. I just know it." Jess dropped his head in his hands and a sob escaped him.
Roy, uncomfortable with Jess' breakdown, cleared his throat, looked over his notes and then sat back, waiting until Jess recovered. Sibella reached over and placed a hand on Jess' shoulder. "Jess, sometimes we jump to the worst conclusions." She wished she could remember what that French philosopher had said, the one Adam had quoted; it would fit right now. "Hold out hope." Jess raised his head and gave her a weak smile. Then he situated himself in his chair and ran the fingers of one hand through his hair.
"Clem, ride over to that Leprechaun Mine and see if the money's been picked up." Clem stood up and put on his hat. "And take that lantern over there and look around for anything that might help, remains of food or such, and Clem, look in the mine as far as you can safely go…for anything."
"Sure, Sheriff," Clem said and headed out.
"I didn't look in the mine," Jess said. "Oh, my God…I should have looked." He stood up. "I need to go to the mine."
Roy stood up and making a frame with his hands, asked, "You don't need to go anywhere but home. And you didn't tell Meg's mother, did you?"
Mrs. Brewster, Meg's mother, had periods of lucidity mixed with longer stretches when she thought she was a young girl in the prime of her beauty and recognized no one. Meg's father had died during the war and after that, Mrs. Brewster had begun her decline, taking up much of Meg's time and Jess' money as they paid for a caregiver; Jess had argued that if Mrs. Brewster lived with them, Meg wouldn't have a moment's rest or a full night's sleep.
"No," Jess said. "I saw no reason for it. She might not be able to bear the news, just die right then and there, or she might not even know who I am or who Meg is. You never know with her."
"I think that's for the best. Now, Jess, please go home. Maybe Meg's there waiting for you, wonderin' where you are. And even if she's not there now, she may be in a bit. She might have headed out on foot from Murphy's, not wantin' to wait there in case the kidnappers came back. Even if she isn't home, you wait there and I'll ride out in the morning and let you know what we've found out. I'm gonna drop by Mrs. Brewster's just to make sure all's well. Now, will you do that, Jess?"
"Yes, yes," Jess said. "I'll wait at home." He looked up and forced a smile. "Meg might be there. I hadn't thought of her walking. She might have."
"That's right. Now, I need to look over my notes and make some sense of them. Mrs. Cartwright, Adam. Hope you can get some rest now."
~0~
Jess took the reins. Sibella sat between the two men but made certain her thigh wasn't up against Jess'. But once they were almost out of town, Jess snapped the reins and the horses began to run, almost throwing Sibella onto Jess' lap as a wheel hit a rise in the rutted road. Adam reached across Sibella and jerked the reins from Jess.
"What the hell are you trying to do?" Adam said, pulling the horses up short. Sibella had clutched Adam's arm to keep her seating.
"I want to get home!" Jess said. He sounded panicked to Sibella.
"Driving like that won't get us there if you break an axle or lose a wheel or dump us onto the road! I'll drive." And Sibella watched as Jess meekly allowed Adam to take control. She felt sympathy for Jess who now sat slumped over like a defeated man; everything he had done might have been to Meg's detriment; she might be lying dead in the deserted mine and Jess hadn't discovered her body. How awful he must feel!
No one spoke the rest of the trip and Adam finally pulled the buckboard up to the house. A few seconds later, Moss came out of the barn in his long underwear, shouldering a rifle.
"Oh…Mr. Cartwright. Sorry." He lowered his rifle. "It's late and…"
"It's all right, Moss. Go back to bed." Moss did, going back to his room in the rear of the barn. Adam helped Sibella down. Jess slid to the middle of the seat and took the reins, turning to look at Adam who held Sibella by the arm.
"Thank you, Adam, for your help. I'm not a man for religion but if you have it in you…or you, Sibella, pray Meg is home waiting for me." Then he snapped the reins, saying "Gee-up."
Adam silently found the key in the right pocket of his jacket; it was habitual for him. He was a man of habit, and Sibella never did anything the same way twice which caused her and him distress. "Keep your house key here, in this bowl," he had often told her, dropping his own key into the lidded, cloisonné Chinese bowl, a wedding gift from Tan Hai, a Tong leader and friend of Hop Sing. Adam had even looped a strip of leather through the bow of her key so it would be harder to lose, easier to find, but she always managed to misplace it.
Once in the house, Adam shot home the door bolt and helped Sibella with her heavy cape. While he hung everything, her cape, his jacket, hat and gun holster on the hat stand, Sibella picked up the book she had discarded, placing it on the table. Adam added more wood to the fire that had almost burned itself out. The he sat on the settee with a deep sigh and put out his hand. "Come sit down here a minute, would you?"
She did and noticed how weary Adam looked. "I'm going to read the book, this one." She touched the cover, "And then, we can discuss it. I didn't give myself a chance to like it but I'm sure, if you liked it, I will too."
Adam laughed weakly. "Sibella. If you don't like it, don't read it. Now that I think about it, it is a little silly: tiny people, giant people, talking horses…"
"Talking horses?" Sibella looked confused.
"Yes, the last section is all about a land of talking horses. Sibella, is it that I gave a book to Meg that you think you have to read this one?" He waited, watching her face as she considered what to say.
"Well…she did take it with her. It must have been important to her."
"And doesn't that strike you as strange?" Adam waited.
"Well, maybe…maybe she took it as comfort."
"No. If she wanted comfort, she'd take a Bible. The book is a series of translated quatrains, supposedly written by Khayyam."
"What's a quatrain?" Sibella asked, puzzled and sorry she had never paid attention during school.
"A four-line poem. I've been thinking about that book the whole ride from town. Meg took that book for a reason. I just can't figure out what it is. I mean, think about it; did she ask the kidnappers if she could bring something along to read? She would be frightened, too afraid to think about how bored she might be waiting to be rescued"
"Maybe it's a message of some sort," Sibella offered. "Was there a special quote she liked or such?"
"Yes, but if it's a message, it would be between her and Jess. Meg wouldn't send me a message; that makes no sense."
"Well, then…"
"Wait. There is something, a quote we talked about long and hard when I was going to join up, enlist, about a search. It went…'the search has taught me that the search is vain.' It's about searching for the meaning of life which is contradictory as it's the search itself that is life, what makes a life, but it could be applied to this situation, to searching for her. We'd discussed it one evening and she had an interesting perspective…" Adam noticed Sibella was staring at him. "I owe you an apology, sweetheart."
"Me? You owe me an apology? Why?"
"Because, Sibella, I always underestimate you. I have throughout this whole kidnapping incident. You saw things I didn't because I let my feelings about Meg interfere. I know better than that but there are so many things…"
Sibella wanted to say, "I told you so, Adam," but he looked so contrite, she couldn't. Adam took her hand and held it to his mouth, giving it a kiss. And he continued to hold it while he spoke to her.
"I misjudged Jess' father for one. I should have known Jess couldn't say why he really wanted the money—the telegrapher would know and would be compelled to report the kidnapping; it's a serious crime, serious enough to call in a federal marshal. I wouldn't be surprised if Roy headed for the telegraph office to summon one after we left.
"And then, about the handwriting. I didn't tell my father about that because I didn't see the importance, was too angry with Jess' father not caring what happened to Meg. But now, I see how it makes sense that the kidnapper or kidnappers, either can't spell well enough, as you suggested, or don't want their handwriting recognized, someone whose handwriting could be easily recognized or compared. Someone at the bank or a public office. Usually, I don't take things on face value, but about this, I let all my old feelings about Meg take control; I didn't question anything and I vilified Jess' father."
"Oh, well…" Sibella, reached out with her free hand and placed it over Adam's. "I can understand how you could let your love for Meg…" She stopped and looked down at her wedding band.
"Sibella," Adam said, his voice dropping, 'there is no one dearer to me than you. And there never will be." She looked at him, tears brimming. "You don't have to read books or go to boring operas or listen to lectures. All that means nothing to me. Just love me back. That's all I ask."
"Oh, Adam!" Sibella slipped out her hand and threw her arms about Adam's neck. "You don't have to ask me to love you! I already do!" She gave a small cry of surprise as Adam toppled her on her back. He grinned down and Sibella saw him as he must have looked as a joyous young man before war took its toll. As she felt his hands sliding under her dress, moving her skirts up; she quickly worked to unbutton his shirt. Sibella reminded herself to say something in the morning about Mrs. George moving in; it might be better for them all if the housekeeper didn't.
