Some graphic, descriptive language. Be warned in case you have delicate sensibilities. And keep in mind that this is an older Adam who has been through the Civil War and all its horrors and has experienced a great deal of personal, emotional loss in his lifetime.

NINE

If I believed in reincarnation, I'm sure my father would have been a knight whose armor shone brightly in the sun and who went about the countryside rescuing fair maids from dastardly villains and a dragon or two. I suppose, at that time, he viewed me as a dragon.

I took the reins of the buggy, one of Sibella's trunks beside me on the seat, and my father sat in the back with Sibella, talking about her father and their old friendship, asking her about her birthday party and her schooling in France. I learned quite a bit about Sibella on that ride to the Ponderosa. Her schooling had been conservative on the whole, and had a religious bent of sorts, but her "mentor" was the art teacher Mademoiselle Henri who, according to Sibella, was a "Bohȇme," a Bohemian with radical views on women in the arts and sciences and life in general. According to Sibella, a few chosen students were invited by Mademoiselle Henri for tea and madeleines. In the teacher's sitting room, they were told of the horrors of marriage for a woman, the required subservience to the vices and perverted desires of their husbands, and how women were treated as property – men treated their cows and pigs better than they treated their wives! At least them they didn't beat!

I almost laughed as my father quickly agreed that some men did mistreat their wives but no Cartwright would; his sons had been brought up to respect women and to treat all people well. I'm sure he eben patted her hand reassuringly.

Sibella, realizing her misandry may have shocked or alienated her new father-in-law, said she was sure that was true. Then after an awkward pause, my father asked if she had a nice trip and Sibella, in relief, I'm sure, eagerly told him all about it.

I had to smile thinking of a wide-eyed, young Sibella in pigtails and a school uniform, listening to such propaganda from a woman she admired. No wonder she held the views she did. But she had been back home for at least 4 years and should have seen that Miss Henri's views may have been biased somewhat. But then what do I know about a young girl's heart and mind. Even today, Sibella still surprises me.

After we had been married for a few months, once while talking in bed, Sibella revealed with a naughty look in her lovely blue eyes, that she once posed nude for the art class. It had been cool in the studio with the dormer window open and she told me how embarrassed she was when her nipples hardened. And thn she said she blushed even more when her teacher suggested she loosen her thighs and show the hair that curled over her privates – after all, they were all female. She obliged, and suddenly felt free from any confining boundaries. And the finished paintings of her altered her views as she hadn't realized until then just how beautiful the naked body can be.

Her little story and the image of her spreading her legs ever so temptingly to a room full of eager young female artists had excited me. I turned her over on the sheets, propped her on her knees, pushed her gown up and took from behind, enjoying the view of myself and her "privates". But I'm ahead of myself – this was after Sibella decided she was going to enjoy her 'subservient" position underneath me. And that allowing me to have my way with her wasn't necessarily unpleasant.

We pulled up in the yard and Hop Sing, Hoss and Joe came out to meet the "guest." I left the introductions to my father while I unloaded the luggage. But I kept my eye on Sibella.

"Why, Adam," Hoss said, coming to help me with the bigger trunk, "whyn't you tell us you done went and got hitched? And to such a pretty one."

"You know now? What difference would a day have made? She'd still be pretty and you'd still be…" For some reason I stopped from insulting Hoss by telling him he'd still be "ugly." Suddenly I didn't want to be cruel although Hoss usually took such jibes in stride. "Take this trunk and put it in the back guest room, would you?. That room gets the afternoon sun and Sibella can sleep late. And tell Joe to take in the smaller one. My valise is full of dirty clothes – would you see Hop Sing gets it."

"Why can't you take care of things? I mean I don't mind helpin', but…"

"Just do it for me, would you? I'm bone-tired."

"Sure, Adam. But anythin' else I can do to make your life easier? After all, Joe and me, we live to serve you. How 'bout us spendin' the weddin' night with your bride? Maybe you ain't got the energy for that neither and she'd probably like us better."

I grinned and patted his cheek. "I have the energy, I just don't have the time right now. But it would take both of you to equal one of me."

Hoss chuckled at the retort but then turned sober. "I don't know much 'bout women but leavin' her alone on your first night…well, she's your wife." He called Joe over to help him with the trunks.

Hop Sing was telling "Missy" to come in and "fresh-up" because dinner would be on the table in ten minutes.

"Very fine meal – just for you. Hop Sing make roast turkey – very crisp skin! Cook fresh beans from garden – make tasty with salt pork. Mashed potatoes, gravy, fresh biscuits, butter – all good food just for you. And Mistah Cartwright, him get good bottle of wine from cellar!" He grinned broadly and Sibella thanked him but turned to look for me from the porch.

Already I sensed her moods and knew she was anxious, unsure of herself. My father stood with her, telling Hop Sing they'd be in in a minute. And then I behaved like the cold-hearted sonovabitch I am.

"Sibella, I told Hoss to put your…"

Hoss and Joe passed us then, and Joe shot me a nasty look. I don't know if it was because he had to carry the trunk across his shoulders and up the stairs like a pack mule, or because I was putting Sibella in a guest room, but he glared at me. I waited until they passed. Sibella looked up at me with desperation and my father furrowed his brow. He had dressed in his best black suit to meet the "guest" and with the disapproving look he gave me, he looked like a stern pastor confronting a sinner.

"Sibella, I told Hoss and Joe to put your things in the back…room. You'll be more comfortable there."

My father chimed in. "Adam, I think that's a good idea. It's bigger and you two should…"

"Look, I have to leave - I have some immediate business in Carson City."

"What?" Sibella turned pale. "Now?"

"I didn't expect to get married and bring you home, remember? It's important business and if it's concluded too late, I'll spend the night in Carson City. Pa, tell Hop Sing not to save me a plate. I have to go." I kissed Sibella's smooth cheek, avoiding her eyes – I couldn't bear the hurt look.

I headed to the barn to saddle my horse, the buggy still standing in the yard with the horse still hitched; I wanted to leave and get the picture of Sibella's face, her eyes beginning to fill with tears, out of my head. But what did she expect of me? Her proposal came with the idea that we would live our own lives and go our separate ways. There were things to consider such as, what if I fell in love with her – desperately, passionately – and she left me to work for women's suffrage in New York or anywhere else. What then? Right now I was inured to her but if I took her, buried myself in her soft body, clutched that firm ass as I moved inside her, tasted the sweet juices of her cunt, what would happen then if she left me? I didn't even want to consider the consequences. But as I expected, my father hurried after me to the barn.

"Adam, can't you wait until tomorrow?"

"No, Pa," I answered, leading my horse out of its stall. "And it's really none of your business." I continued saddling my horse and he stood silently, watching. "All right, Pa - out with it."

"Okay. You're a grown man and you can conduct yourself anyway you like, carry on howsoever you choose. But you now have a wife and while I admit she seems a bit…unsophisticated, she's still your wife. You're leaving her and going off to see that woman and I think, to put it in the mildest terms, selfish and cruel of you. I'm ashamed of you. And that's all I have to say." He turned and walked back t the house. And I finished saddling my horse.

Donna was pleased to see me, kissing me and taking my arm and pulling me into her well-furnished suite I paid for. She helped me off with my boots, socks, and suit which I Informed her I had slept in.

"You poor, darling. Let me get your robe while you take off your shirt. Then I'll get you some wine." She turned and smiled at me and added, "You'll sleep far more comfortably tonight – I guarantee."

Not to go into details, but the sex was familiar and comfortable and all I had to do was lay back and enjoy her ministrations; Donna did earn her keep. But in the back of my mind, the woman I imagined riding me, was Sibella. I didn't know why I kept thinking of her, but I did and she was there with me the whole time. It was…disconcerting and I felt as if I was only playing a part with Donna; nothing was spontaneous.

Although I slept a bit with Donna asleep beside me, I woke after a few hours and considered my situation. I had a beautiful, virginal wife at the Ponderosa and maybe she would grow to love me and I could win her heart. I knew that Sibella could easily win mine as I was halfway there already. And what a bastard I had been to leave her alone on what should have been our wedding night. And then I confronted it - I was afraid.

The realization was like being slapped in the face. I said that I try to be honest with myself and through those dark hours, I admitted to myself that I was afraid of taking the risk, afraid of the pain that often comes with any intimate relationship. I was afraid Sibella might reject me, make a comment about wanting a younger lover. What if she refused me when I approached her? And then my breath caught in my throat; Sibella might even be gone by the time I returned even though her father's draft was still in my suit pocket. What if she had left me already? My father wouldn't be able to deny her assistance in leaving such a cad of a husband. What would I do then?

I knew what I would do if she was gone; I would make a joke of it, say something along the line that she only wanted to get away from her family and that I just played a part. I couldn't admit to a broken heart – or at this early point, would it be like so long ago with Janie Watson – just injured pride id she left me.

And what the hell was I thinking when I married Sibella anyway, when I put myself in that position to feel anything? I thought I was through with all that, that I was numb to feelings like that. Hadn't I suffered enough loss in my life? I couldn't bear another punch in the gut, so to speak. And was I willing to place myself at the mercy of another person, put my joy or misery in the hands of a 21 year old girl?

I knew what I had to do. I had to take a chance on Sibella and our marriage. I had seen that she could be compassionate and I knew from her conversation with Alan that she was fearful of intimacy. I would be kind and gentle with her. When I went home, we would start fresh. I would apologize for leaving her and going to Carson City but my business there was now concluded. And she would smile, perhaps shed a few tears. And I would tell her to pack a small bag. We would spend the next few nights in the Palace Hotel in Virginia City and if we chose, go to the jewelers and design a special ring for her. She was wearing a ring given by her mother as something old and it needed replacing with something new Sibella would be overjoyed and kiss me, throw those sweet arms about my neck and kiss me more and maybe tell me she loved me. And even if she didn't, love would come eventually. I was sure of it.

But Donna was a problem. I couldn't just abandon her. I would give her a large bank draft and some stock in the Cartwright mining business as consolation. We had found a new vein of silver in the main mine and in another, copper. The copper was actually bringing in more profits than the silver now that copper gas lines were being installed in all new construction and many older buildings were being retrofitted. All in all, that seemed the best solution in dealing with a mistress who needed to be gently discarded.

Once a thin line of morning light knifed in between the pulled drapes, I sat up, throwing my legs over the side of the bed. Donna moved and then I felt a hand on my shoulder as she moved behind me.

"What are you doing awake this early? Didn't you sleep well?" She rested her head against my back and slipped her arms about me. "Come back to bed. It must be only a little after six."

I disentangled her arms and stood up. "No, I have to get back. I need to set up some legal provisions." I walked over to the window and opened the heavy drapes. I could see the street below and a few people were out, taking care of their own business.

Donna lay back down and stretched with her eyes closed. She sighed and I was tempted. "Oh, Adam. Why waste that piss-proud hardness? Put it to good use – on me." She opened her eyes and looked at me, a smile on her face.

I had to chuckle. I think any man who had a pulse and a prick would have jumped on her but Sibella's sad, sweet face rose up before me like a specter. Damn, Sibella was ruining everything. So, I just used the chamber pot and Donna murmured about it being such a waste. And while pulling on my trousers, I told Donna that I had married two days ago in Sacramento City.

"And you're here with me. Obviously, it can't be a love match." She pulled on a dressing gown and came about to help me with my trouser buttons. "Is she wealthy?"

"Actually, she is, but that's not why I married her. But it doesn't matter why, just that I am. And that makes my relationship with you problematic."

"If you think I'll say anything…"

"No, I don't think you would. It's really about…" I considered what I could say that didn't make me sound like a sentimental, provincial fool. "Look, Donna." I sat down on the bed to pull on my boots and something in the plush carpet glinted in the sunlight. Puzzled, I walked over and bent down to pick up a man's silver cufflink – and it wasn't mine.

I started to laugh as I looked at it in my hand. It had an unknown man's initials engraved into the flat surface - MJK.

"What's so funny? What did you find, Adam? What is it?"

I was still chuckling and flattened my palm. Donna stared at the cufflink, blanching with horror. "Oh, Adam, I can explain…you see…"

Grinning, I handed the cufflink to her. "You don't have to explain anything. See that he gets back his cufflink. Having only one is like having a single ballock; works better in pairs. Actually, this makes everything so much easier." I pulled on my white shirt, quickly buttoning it and rolling up the sleeves. I slipped my own gold cufflinks in my pants' pocket.

"But, Adam – it's not what you think. An old friend of mine stopped by for a visit and he just wanted to relax so he…"

I held Donna by her upper arms, shushing her. "Donna, it doesn't matter and just to show there are no bad feelings, I'll send you a nice-sized draft for your old age. I hope you make many new friends, Donna, many, many of them." I folded my jacket over my arm and picked up my hat. "And now I'll say goodbye. Take care of yourself." I gave a slight bow and left, still grinning.

The livery owner grumbled when I woke him to saddle my horse, since I usually didn't leave that early. But he smiled widely enough when I paid him the dollar for keeping and feeding my horse overnight, and an extra silver dollar for his trouble. He thanked me profusely and waved me off.

I probably grinned the whole ride home. I no longer had to worry about turning stock shares over to Donna and the probable argument with my father, nor did I have to worry about Donna. I'd like to say Providence showed me the way but it was just an unknown man's fumbling fingers with a small piece of jewelry. I only briefly wondered who he was, but not for long. The sun was rising and soon I'd be home with Sibella. Sweet-tasting Sibella. I hoped I could refrain from spiriting her upstairs and taking her right then and there.

I kicked my horse and my heart soared; I was in love, actually in love and I found I wasn't afraid to be; it did take some courage to open your heart to another but I was ready. I hoped Sibella was too as I saw a glorious adventure ahead for both of us.

TBC