One more chapter and the story is completed! I was going to post one long last chapter but have been wrangling over the ending so I decided instead to break it into two shorter chapters. Otherwise, I probably couldn't post for another three days or so as I worked out the ending. Anyway, hope you enjoy this one.

XIV

Adam used a crowbar to pry open the wooden crate while Sibella attempted to contain a wriggling Noah who kept trying to get to his father, raising a fuss when his mother wouldn't allow it.

"If you like," Mrs. George offered, watching as well, "I'll take Noah into the kitchen."

"Leave him stay," Adam said. "This is for him." Adam pulled out the excelsior, curled slivers of softwood used as packing material, and revealed a small wooden chair with long legs, a tray flipped over and lying against the seat's back. Grinning, Adam pulled it from the crate and sat it clear of the mess. "A highchair for Noah. Ordered it last month. What do you think?"

"Oh," Mrs. George said, "how very clever! I've seen pictures of these in the mercantile catalogue but they're pricey. It must have cost you quite a pretty penny."

"It'll make life easier," Adam said, picking up the chair and carrying it to the dining room, setting it down at the table. "Sibella, bring Noah."

Sibella carried the child in and Adam took his son who crowed at finally being in his father's arms. Mrs. George watched, her hands clasped in excitement.

"You put the tray down – like this - and then slide him in. See." Noah immediately slapped his hands on the wooden tray, gurgling with joy.

"Seems to me," Sibella said, "that if you can slide him in, he can also slide out the bottom. You know how he is – when he wants down, he wants down."

"You have a point there," Adam said, furrowing his brow. "Sibella, go get a scarf, would you?"

"What?" She didn't know whether to take offense at being ordered about or not.

"Go get a scarf. I'll tie it around his waist and the back bars of the chair. He'll stay safe. Mrs. George, if Noah's dinner is ready, so is he…I'm hungry myself. Haven't eaten since breakfast."

Mrs. George left for the kitchen but Sibella still stood, her arms petulantly crossed.

"What's wrong?"

"You mean other than the mess left on the rug? You couldn't unpack it outside, could you?"

"I suppose I could have but I thought…I'm sorry. You're right - I shouldn't have unpacked it here. Watch him." Adam left and began gathering up the shavings and tossing them onto the fire that burned in the stone fireplace. He went to gather up more and noticed Sibella still stood with her arms crossed, looking angry.

"All right, Sibella. This is more than just excelsior on the rug. Tell me. Don't pout like a child."

"I'm not pouting! It's just that…nothing. It's nothing. I'll go get one of my expensive silk scarves so we can use it to tie our child down so we can feed him. Perhaps we should stick a funnel down his throat and pour food down his gullet. And since I haven't eaten since breakfast either…oh, never mind!" Sibella stomped up the stairs and Adam watched, puzzled. She had been quiet the whole ride home, now that he thought about it. He had been so bound by his own thoughts that he hadn't really noticed.

Despite Sibella being in a bad temper, dinner was pleasant; Mrs. George praised the high chair and even Sibella had to smile at Noah's delight at having food such as peas and small pieces of boiled potatoes put on his tray which he could eat by himself or smash with his palm and then smear into his mouth. When given a spoon, Noah banged it on the wooden tray accompanying it with various exclamations.

Hoss arrived halfway through the meal and was invited to share in what would be his second dinner ("Hop Sing's one mighty fine cook, Mrs. George, but so are you and it's been a whole 20 minutes since I ate!") Hoss also made a great fuss over Noah and his new highchair. "Shoulda had one of those when Joe was a baby. Maybe he woulda eaten more that way and gotten bigger." But the conversation took on a private turn when Hoss confirmed to Adam that everyone was going to be at dinner on the Ponderosa the next night.

"The Fitzhughs, for certain?" Adam asked.

"Yeah, but that was some doin'. The Colonel, he wanted to push on to San Francisco but Pa convinced 'im that Sunday would be better – sleep late and then he'd drive 'em to the Carson City depot. Told 'em there's less of a crowd boardin' on Sundays. Also tempted 'em with a roast pig, said Hop Sing would make one just in their honor Saturday dinner. And Roy's comin' too and he's bringin' Miss Pear; said she was mighty excited to get an invite to the Ponderosa. Oh, and he gave me this for you…" Hoss reached under his vest and from his shirt pocket, pulled out a tin star. Hoss slapped it on the table. "Roy said for you to wear this; might help you get any information and he also said to tell you that he's got some background information on the Fitzhughs like you asked and he found some more supportin' evidence, said you can stop by the office, that your guess was on the money."

"What's all this?" Sibella asked, looking back and forth. "What information on the Fitzhughs? And Miss Pear's invited to dinner? Why? Does this have anything to do with the wires you sent today, Adam?"

"You sent wires?" Hoss asked.

"Two. I wanted to find out some information on…" Adam glanced at Sibella who sat waiting expectantly, but Adam turned back to Hoss. "I asked for the responses to be sent to Virginia City. Hopefully, I'll have the answers tomorrow or I may have to connive a way to make the Fitzhughs stay another day or two and Hancock as well. I was going to take him out to see the mine tomorrow morning but I'm riding to Fort Churchill instead. How about riding out with me? That way Hancock can't ask you to show him the mine and Pa has guests. I'll leave my apologies with Pa for when Hancock arrives and it'll ensure he stays one more day."

"Fort Churchill? They's shuttin' that down."

"I know; hopefully, the records will still be there and I can see them."

Sibella was shut-out and she knew it. All of it, all the investigations had started due to her insistence and now she was excluded. Instead of confiding in her, Adam had taken Hoss into his confidence. She felt ignored. Her mother had often told her that she needed to find her happiness in the women's domain, raising children and, as a wife, being sheltered from a hard life. After all, Mrs. Atherton often said, Sibella was fortunate. Many women were not so lucky and had to scrub floors, work the fields alongside their husbands, milk cows, slop hogs and bear child after child, losing a tooth for each child born. And many women endured seeing a few of their children die of disease. Sibella had an education, was intelligent and beautiful and still she wanted more from life. Sibella looked about her home, at Noah happily chattering with his Uncle Hoss who so obviously adored him and at Adam, who she knew loved their son and her. But she also knew that she would never be on equal footing with her husband. And she wondered if Adam hadn't confided his plans in her because he wanted to protect someone else such as Fanny Fitzhugh or Miss Pear.

~ 0 ~

Sibella sat up in bed, listening to the early morning sounds in the house and outside. The drapes were still drawn, the room in darkness although she could see sunlight about the edges; Adam hadn't wanted to wake her. Sibella surmised he hadn't wanted to face her after last night, didn't want to argue anymore.

"Coward," Sibella mumbled to herself, rolling over and hugging her pillow, reliving their argument after he came home late from Virginia City.

"You leave right after dinner for Virginia City, you and Hoss, and leave me at home. And you won't tell me what the 'evidence' is Sheriff Coffee found. And when I ask to go to Fort Churchill tomorrow with you and Hoss, you to act as if I asked for a trip to the moon! Why are you suddenly leaving me out of everything? You won't even tell me what you asked Sheriff Coffee to look into!"

"Sibella, it's a long, dusty ride to the fort; you're better off here at home and as for Sheriff Coffee, it has to do with more letters they found in Madam Adair's living quarters; you're better off remaining ignorant of their content."

"That's your opinion, Adam. And you never told me what was in the wires you sent either. I had to just sit on that bench like the good, obedient, patient wife while you wrote out those telegrams. When I asked, you said they were about nothing I needed to know. You told Hoss but you didn't tell me! And then you wonder why I'm upset."

"Sibella…look, I just have a hunch, that's all. I don't want you to start creating some imaginary collusion among people who may be guilty of nothing. I think it's best you arrive at the dinner tomorrow without suspicions that might be groundless; you don't have a poker face, you know." Adam stripped off his shirt and balling it, threw it with a vengeance in the corner. "Now I just want to get a good night's sleep so I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't…."

"Wouldn't what? Unhook me, would you?" Sibella turned her back to him; she was too upset to have the patience to work the hooks and Mrs. George was already in bed. She could feel Adam's fingers against her skin as he worked the hooks halfway down her back. "You would be happy if I would just say, 'Yes, husband. Whatever you say, husband." Sibella reached behind her and unhooked her dress the rest of the way, stepping out of it and tossing it with as much fury as Adam had his shirt.

Adam, having pulled off his boots and noisily dropping them, stepped out of his trousers and pulled down the coverlet. "You know, Sibella, you're right. I wish you would just abide by what I say. Your constant refusal to keep out of this is getting to be…well, I'm tempted to... I thought I had made my point but obviously not; remember, it was murder – someone was killed. Think about that. Just stay home tomorrow and be a good wife and mother." Adam slid into bed, pulling the covers up as he rolled onto his side, slipping one arm under his pillow – his back to Sibella's side of the bed, she noted; he infuriated her!

She had lain quietly but was unable to sleep. She could hear Adam's breathing, the shallow, lengthy breaths that indicated he was asleep. He was so smug about the matter, Sibella thought – of course she knew someone had been killed. Hadn't she found the body? And Adam and Sheriff Coffee had decided it was a woman who plunged the hatpin into Madame Adair's bosom. A woman. Was Adam protecting Fanny or Miss Pear? No, Adam wouldn't protect a killer – never! But he might see the woman first, attempt to convince her to confess before he turned her in. But threatening a killer? It was murder, after all, and what if the killer tried to murder him?

Sibella turned over and shook Adam's shoulder. He jerked awake and sat up.

"What? What's wrong?"

The room was so dark with the drapes closed that Sibella could barely see Adam's expression but she knew how he looked.

"I'm still angry with you, but…oh, Adam – I love you so! Tell me you'll be careful tomorrow!" Sibella threw her arms about his neck, kissing his cheeks, ignoring the rough stubble.

"Sibella, don't be worried; I promise you I'll be careful and I'll have Hoss with me. Trust me and know I love you. Shall I show you how much I love you?"

"Yes. Show me. Show me."

Sibella felt the mattress move as Adam shifted his weight. She closed her eyes, a sigh of pleasure escaping her as she surrendered herself to him and his caresses. And although the touch of his hands was familiar as was the heat and taste of his mouth, there was always a newness about their lovemaking – as if it was the first time she had given herself with abandon.

~ 0 ~

The morning dragged; Sibella constantly glanced at the clocks, estimating how long a trip to Virginia City would have taken Adam. Mrs. George told her that when she went down to fire up the kitchen stove and start the morning coffee, "the Mister" was standing at the sink outfitted for a day of riding, his gun belt strapped about his hips, drinking coffee and eating a slice of applesauce cake as he would a hunk of bread. The stove was already hot and the coffee ready. That had been around 6:00 in the morning. Sibella calculated Adam and Hoss had left the Ponderosa about 8:00 for Fort Churchill and should be home at 2:00 in the afternoon. She looked at the clock; it was a few minutes before 10:00 in the morning and although Sibella had tried to stay busy, playing chase outside with Noah while Chauncey watched, smiling, from his chair by the barn, she was still anxious. What had Sheriff Coffee discovered in searching the small apartment above Parisian Style? How could she get around Chauncey to ride into town and talk to the Sheriff or his deputy?

Sheriff Coffee might be a hard nut to crack but Deputy Foster might be more amenable to her request. Deputy Foster, Adam said that you and Sheriff Coffee found more evidence as to the reason Madame Adair was murdered but he left before sunrise for Fort Churchill. Can you tell me? If she looked particularly lovely…perhaps. Sibella considered asking Chauncey to saddle up Delilah when she heard the sound of a buggy in the front yard. She went to the window and through the lace sheers, saw Fanny Fitzhugh in what was a borrowed Ponderosa buggy. Obviously, no one could keep her from going wherever she wanted.

"Well, Mrs. Fitzhugh," Sibella said, stepping out onto the porch, Noah on one hip, "how nice to see you again. Won't you come in?" Sibella noted that Fanny was dressed more modestly and wore a simple flat hat and a short cape as the day was overcast and chilly.

"Good morning, Mrs. Cartwright. So that's Noah? What a handsome boy – looks like his father."

"Yes. Thank you. He's just as hard-headed too."

"Well, isn't that men in general? Anyway, I was hoping you could come with me to town for a bit of shopping. The Colonel and I are leaving for San Francisco tomorrow and I want to buy a little something for my daughter Rosemary and my new grandson. I don't have much time as, well, you know I have to get back to dress for dinner and so do you, but this morning, Adam said to take you along."

"You saw Adam this morning?" Suddenly Sibella had an image of Adam holding Fanny Fitzhugh in his arms, kissing Fanny the way he had kissed her last night, telling the woman he couldn't stay away from her any longer.

"Yes, when he stopped by to get Hoss."

"Oh, of course." Sibella relaxed; Adam hadn't stopped to visit with Fanny Fitzhugh after all; Adam was right – she did jump to conclusions of the worst kind.

"Apparently, they're heading to that old fort they spoke of the other night, something about old records. They invited the Colonel along but he decided to stay at the Ponderosa with a brandy and the warm fire."

"At this time of morning?" Sibella found it odd that anyone would start drinking spirits that early in the day. The Colonel would be very drunk at dinner if he kept it up over the long afternoon.

"The mention of the fort brought back bad memories for him. But I hear that Sheriff Coffee is an invited guest tonight. My husband and he had dealings with each other during the war, taking care of Confederate insurgents and such, and my husband has mentioned him fondly a few times since we've been at the Ponderosa. He even spoke of driving into town and visiting the sheriff there. Anyway, since you're so familiar with what to buy for baby boys, you having Noah and such, would you come with me? I would really like some female company."