Thank you to all of you who are reading and letting me know you like it. I do apologize about the slow-going. Should pick up a bit after this chapter - I man it is part-love story. One other thing, the term "playpen" was first used in print in 1902 - at least that was the earliest I could find it although similar items were used before then. I, therefore, used the term "pen" instead of "playpen".

XI

"I told you, Adam, I wasn't going to see Archie. I just wanted to find out what Fanny Fitzhugh was doing at the hotel."

"You had no business following Mrs. Fitzhugh – what she does is between her and her husband."

"And apparently, Archie Hancock. Don't you find it interesting though? I mean she's rather brazen, going to a man's room – and in the middle of the day, no less."

Sibella had duly defended herself but Adam had gone on and on about her becoming involved in a murder case that could possibly put her own life at risk? She wasn't some child and this wasn't some game – she should be more responsible. But what about Miss Pear? Sibella had pointed out – literally pointing one small finger at Adam. It was due to her noticing the new hairstyle that they had discovered Miss Pear had seen he body a few hours before she had. So, Sibella had said with great satisfaction, she was useful, after all.

Adam acknowledged that neither he nor Roy would have known about what Miss Pear had seen or when if Sibella hadn't raised a red flag. Nevertheless, he emphasized, had told her to stay home and not only had she lied in order to go to town, but she had done exactly what he had told her not to.

"I didn't lie! I just let Chauncey think what he wanted."

"You led him to that conclusion, Sibella. You intentionally deceived him. It's as bad as a lie of omission."

"Oh, you and your honesty!" Sibella said. "And you can't tell me you've never lied."

Adam drove along in silence. Then he spoke. "No, I have lied but it's never been for a reason such as getting my own way." He turned his face to her and Sibella thought she saw actual pain in his eyes. "I want you to stay at the house because I truly am afraid for you."

"Oh, Adam. I know that. You've said that, but, my darling, I can take care of myself! Honestly." When Adam turned his eyes back to the road, Sibella subtly opened her reticule and slid her hand inside, grasping the derringer, her finger on the trigger. "Adam."

At his name, Adam turned to look at Sibella as she pulled out the derringer, pointing it at him.

"You see, I can take care of myself." Sibella smiled, feeling she had one-upped Adam. But before she even knew what happened, Adam had grabbed the gun from her, causing her wrist to slightly twist, and hurled the gun into the surrounding trees. The he pulled up Delilah, and the buggy stopped as did his horse tied onto the back. Adam turned to her, his chest heaving.

"You little fool! Do you really think you could stop a man set on harming you? No, Sibella. If I wanted to do you harm, molest you and slit your throat, you wouldn't be able to stop me. Can't you see that?"

Adam snapped the reins and Sibella sat back, shaking. She had never seen Adam in such a state. His breath was shaky and Sibella watched as he tried to calm himself. She looked down at her hand, the one that had so recently held the small derringer and up until that point, Sibella realized she hadn't proper respect for the true power of a determined man, whether it be to ravish her against her will - or throttle her. And although she knew she only came up to Adam's shoulder, only now did she comprehend how large and powerful he really was, how all those nights when she lay under him, she had in actuality, been at his mercy. Instead of running his lips over her neck and thrilling her with his hands, he could have, were he a different type of man, forced her to her marital obligation, causing her to cry out in pain and fear instead of ecstatic delight.

~ 0 ~

The Territorial Enterprise was on the sofa. Mrs. George said the Ben Cartwright had brought it over in case Adam hadn't yet read it. Sibella remembered seeing a copy, still folded on Adam's desk as if he hadn't yet read it. But he obviously had because he snatched up the paper and turned to her, snapping it open so she could see the headline: Lady-Killer on the Loose.

"Did you see this?" Adam asked, his mouth tight.

"No," Sibella quietly replied.

"Well, perhaps you should read it." He dropped the paper on the sofa and went into the room that served as a den and office.

"Oh, Missus, I read it," Mrs. George said. She had been hovering at the edge of the portieres separating the dining room from the parlor. "I'm truly afraid and how horrible for you! Oh, Missus, what if the killer comes after you?"

"Now, Mrs. George," Sibella said, trying to sound nonchalant, "don't be silly. I'll be fine and so will you." Sibella pulled off her gloves and then reached up to take off her hat and holding it, thought back to Mme. Adair and how she had looked, pale and cold on the floor of her shop. Dead. Murdered. "Would you be a dear and make me some tea? And where is Noah?"

"I'll get him ma'am. He's playing in the kitchen in his pen. That way he's out from underfoot while I cook. I'll bring the tea shortly."

Sibella, still off-kilter about what had happened on the ride home, tried to appear normal in front of Mrs. George who laid the tea service, but as Sibella sat and read the article about the Virginia City Lady-Killer, her heart thudded.

Yesterday morning dawned with new hope for the denizens of our fair hamlet except for the owner of the Parisian Style, Madame Monique Adair; she was dead, cold dead, stabbed cruelly through her heart with a brass, pearl-topped hat pin from her own shop.

The small shop, popular with the women of style for its fashionable hats in the latest styles and its choice of hair pieces with which our women manage to make themselves even more lovely, was ransacked. According to Sheriff Coffee who was reluctant to be interviewed, the killer was obviously looking for something with which to enrich himself after cruelly dispatching the female proprietor.

This reporter was informed that the body was discovered by Mrs. Adam Cartwright who may herself be in danger, more so than the ordinary citizen. Sheriff Coffee has eliminated Mrs. Cartwright as a suspect which is to be expected as the Cartwrights are a long-respected family known for their beneficence and contributions toward Virginia City's eminence.

Since the killer is still on the loose, it is suggested that all women stay locked in their homes at night and under the protection of their husbands and fathers until this horrendous murder is solved and the perpetrator tried and hanged.

Sibella put the newspaper down and one hand flew to her mouth. Her name was in the newspaper and if the murderer hadn't known who had reported discovering the body, he did now. Sibella sat, thinking over her situation. Then, she went out to apologize to Chauncey for going to town instead of the Ponderosa. Sibella asked for his forgiveness, hoped he wasn't angry with her, and Chauncey, flustered by Mrs. Cartwright's sincere apology, stammered and said he wasn't mad at her at all. No, ma'am, not one bit.

Sibella decided she need perspective, needed to be out of the house, so she took Noah outside; Adam had yet to emerge from the room she teasingly called, his "sanctum". So, while Noah played in the grass in the front yard, chasing the chickens about and squealing with delight when he managed to grasp a few tail feathers, Sibella worked on her needlepoint, the embroidery hoop held with one small hand while she worked the needle back and forth. But Sibella was in turmoil. How could she placate Adam when he was so angry with her? And she tried to turn things about so that she could be righteously angry with him. But she could think of nothing except that she wanted him to kiss her, to put his arms about her and say he loved her.

Sibella jabbed the needle in and through the fabric and laid the hoop in her lap. When Adam had first shown her their house two years earlier, Sibella said she wanted a garden and Adam set about to give her one. Of course, out here in the wilderness, she couldn't hope for the well-manicured, elegant gardens of her parents' home and the other homes in Sacramento City but Adam did what he could. Pine rail fencing indicated the perimeter and kept any grazing animals out but the double gate had no lock; Adam had said a lock would be useless as any interloper could just climb over so they were left open during the day. But Adam had planted vining roses which clung to the fencing, covering it during the summer with fragrant blooms. Morning glories wound themselves about the porch railing and large cedar buckets on the porch held geraniums which, when blooming, were a burst of red. And during the days of late spring and the evenings of the long days of summer, she and Adam played with Noah on the cool grass. And once, one clear summer evening when Mrs. George was visiting her sister for a week and they had returned from taking Noah to his grandfather's for the weekend, she had pulled Adam down onto the grass and they had made love, "like pagans" she had said. He had laughed in the low, throaty manner he himself owned and with eagerness, taken her. As she had looked over his shoulder, the moon watched and she had the fleeting idea that the whole world had been created just for the two of them.

Sibella watched Noah, running about and her heart swelled with love. Did Adam feel that way when he looked at his son? Did he feel that way when he looked at her, as if his heart only beat because of her? Love was such a confusing emotion. And Sibella realized she had just accepted Adam's love as if it was her due; she had never had to do one single thing to earn it. Fear gripped her like an icy hand – could she lose Adam's love as easily as she had won it?

~ 0 ~

Dinner was a quiet affair as far as Sibella was concerned. Adam sat with Noah on his lap and fed the child off his own plate - mashed potatoes, biscuits and gravy, green beans which the child pulled out of his mouth, grimacing, making his father laugh. Noah stuck his fingers in the mashed potatoes and held them up toward Adam who ate the potatoes off the small fingers of his son who chortled, delighted, and pulled his hand away when Adam made sounds of gobbling. When Mrs. George came to take Noah for his bath, Adam insisted he wanted to do it and scooped his son up in his arms while Noah called, "Up, Papa, up high!" Adam lifted his son over his head and then swung him down again safely into his arms.

"Can I get you any coffee?" Mrs. George asked as she started to clear the table.

"No. None for me. Here," Sibella said, rising from the table, "let me help you clear the table."

"That's all right." Mrs. George didn't need the help as she had already scrubbed the pots and pans and with fresh water in the sink, only the everyday dishes needed washing.

"Really, I want to." Sibella carried dishes into the kitchen and scrapped off the waste into a pan. "I'll dry," Sibella said and took up a dishtowel. The two women worked in silence initially. Then Sibella spoke. "When you were married, were you happy?"

Mrs. George glanced at the Missus who seemed to be worried, her brow furrowed.

"Most of the time. I never really thought much about being happy. I think too much importance is put on being happy. I was content."

"Did you ever do anything foolish, anything you were sorry for and didn't know how to make it right?"

Mrs. George chuckled. "That's just being human, doin' things you regret. Now, Missus, the Mister loves you. I think you'd have to go great lengths to do something he'd never forgive. Is this about going into Virginia City today?"

"Yes. I shouldn't have gone. And I was deceitful and prompted by irrational jealousy and…" Sibella swallowed her tears.

Mrs. George put a sudsy hand on Sibella's arm. "Well, for heaven's sake then! Stop drying the dishes, dry your eyes, and go tell the man you're sorry and that you love him. I guarantee he'll forgive you – and gladly."

Sibella smiled and put the towel on the counter. "Yes. Thank you, Mrs. George." And she set off up the stairs. Sibella found Adam in the hall, leaving Noah's room.

"Adam," she said, her voice quavering.

"Don't. Oh, Sibella, can you ever forgive me for the way I behaved, for what I did?"