Sibella and Alan Meet Strangers

Smiling at the men who tipped their hats as they passed her on the sidewalk, Sibella hurried to the office of Cartwright & Sons Ltd. Alan had left the buggy near The Palace Hotel and the two parted but not before cementing plans "I'll take my horse to the livery, check into the hotel and let Thorne know we're here. I'm sure he'll have tons of questions about you, Sibella; is she just as lovely as always? Is she in love with the man? On our trip, he asked me all about Adam and entre nous, I believe Thorne's a bit jealous. I think the green-eyed monster has overtaken his sensibilities. And then we'll meet you in the restaurant." He knew Sibella well enough to ask, "Why, Sibella, are you anxious about seeing Thorne again?"

"Well, perhaps a little. I mean I did care about him and, well, I worry I'll still find him irresistible."

"Well, he was never irresistible enough for you to give him your cherry," Alan teased, smiling mischievously.

"Oh, Alan, Now, promise me you two won't be late. I'm going to post my letter home and I'll be at the office for probably ten minutes—maybe fifteen. Then I'm stopping by the dressmaker's—she should have the order of French lace in by now. Then I'll head to the restaurant. And if you're not there by 12:30, I'll wait another five minutes and then I'm ordering."

"And you promise the fare is good because I really have no appetite, what with my hangover. How could you let me drink thst much?"

"As good as anywhere else in town." Sibella answered, adjusting her hat. "And I didn't force you to finish that bottle by yourself." The buggy ride to town had been bumpy and even with two hatpins, her blue velvet hat adorned with scarlet ostrich feathers, sat awry. Alan wasn't good at managing the mare, Summer, even though she was calm and tractable; he kept looking back at his horse tied to the buggy, mentioning that he was being charged each day until it was returned to the Carson City livery. And each time Alan glanced back, he inadvertently guided the mare off the road. Once, he had to stop, jump out of the buggy and suffered dry heaves; the combination of his hangover and the nauseating jarring of the buggy.

Alan had also been nervous about the silk-covered box that held the sapphire set. "Oh, Alan, you behave as if highway men were going to leap on us from the trees or step out of the shadows and demand we hand over the jewels." But Sibella began to be anxious as well. Halfway to Virginia City, Sibella wished she had taken Alan's advice and let Adam take them into town Monday.

And now she held the box against her bosom as someone might hold a valuable book and headed to the family's business office, her small reticule swinging from her wrist.

~ 0 ~

"Alan Pemberton. Mr. Culhane was to secure a room for me." Alan stood at the hotel desk, unaware his fingers were tapping a tattoo on the counter. He was sweating, he was so anxious; even his stomach, especially after the wine he drank last night, roiled and he feared he would vomit all over the highly polished oak counter. But most of all, he wondered about his decision. What if that son-of-a-bitch had lied, taken off with the money and left him high and dry? It would be just like Thorne that self-absorbed bastard!

The lobby was surprisingly busy and looking about, Alan realized that diners had to enter and exit the hotel restaurant through the lobby and it was close to noon. Behind him, the diverse voices raised in conversation along with sounds of cutlery on plates were ambient noise. "Well?" Alan asked.

The clerk smiled after checking the reservation book. "Yes, Mr. Pemberton. Room 212." The clerk turned and pulled a tagged key off a hook. "Please sign here." The clerk turned the register around and Alan signed his name with a flourish. "Thank you, Mr. Pemberton. Here you go."

Alan took the key. "And Mr. Culhane?"

"Mr. Culhane is in 211, across the hall." The clerk kept a polite smile on his face hoping Mr. Pemberton wasn't of the same mold as Mr. Culhane. "Enjoy your stay, Mr. Pemberton, and let us know if there's anything you need."

Entering his room, Alan dropped his bags on the floor and looked about the room. It was far nicer than he expected but his only complaint was that his room's view was of a rear alley and the back wall of the building behind it. But a "Do Not Disturb" sign hung on the door; he hoped to put it to good use. Much to Alan's delight, a sink with two spigots was against the inside wall; the place was more civilized than he expected. He examined himself in the mirror above it and decided he was still green about the gills from finishing the wine on his own but he did regret what he had done to his beloved friend; he hoped eventually, he could forgive himself. Alan splashed water on his face and then washed his hands. He smoothed his hair back, straightened his tie and lapels and headed across the hall to 211.

~ 0 ~

Sibella quickly went up the stairs in the office building to the 2nd floor. The frosted pane in the door had Cartwright and Sons. Ltd. stenciled in black letters and every time Sibella saw it, she suffered the sin of pride at having the Cartwright name, at least that's what her early religious training told her. Adam had once said she lacked humility, was prideful as well, but unfortunately, he explained, there was no way to rid oneself of that deadly sin because as soon as one thought they were now humble, they were embracing pride. Sibella had glared at him and said that he certainly would know, but he merely laughed and pulled her on his lap.

"Mrs. Cartwright!" Miss Pear stood up as Sibella came in. She was the amanuensis and filing clerk and everything else; Adam claimed Miss Pear ran the office, was his right hand-and his left-and he would be lost without her. "Is Mr. Cartwright expecting you?"

"No, but I'm sure it's fine. You don't need to announce me." Sibella headed to the door of Adam's office but Miss Pear quickly rounded her desk and blocked her.

"He has someone with him, Mrs. Cartwright. I'm sure they'll be finished soon. Please wait out here until they've concluded their business." Miss Pear put out an arm to guide Sibella away from the door. Miss Pear was certain the man wasn't anyone particularly important, a common cowboy by his dress, but she'd be damned if Sibella broke through the protective barrier she had put around Mr. Cartwright. One would think that after the months she had been married to Mr. Cartwright, Miss Pear considered, Sibella Cartwright would understand that she couldn't barge in on her husband any time she pleased; the man had little time to spare and often had a working lunch.

"Oh, well…I suppose I can wait." Sibella hugged the box closer, hoping the pieces had stayed put in the box, restrained by the puffed fabric. She touched her hat and smoothed her hair, not liking having to beg her husband's secretary to allow her to see her own husband

"May I get you some coffee?" Miss Pear asked, eyeing Mrs. Cartwright. She could see why her boss would be attracted to the woman-Sibella was quite lovely-but she was such a silly, vain woman. Each time she visited the office, which she did far too much, it was to show Mr. Cartwright a new hat or an expensive pair of lambskin gloves or heeled dancing shoes, wasting her husband's money which he worked so hard to earn.

"No, no, thank you. Go back to what you were doing, Miss Pear. I'll just wait." Sibella sighed and walked over to the window while Miss Pear went back to typing from a pad on which she had made notations. But, although the window let in light and air, the view was of an alleyway. She paced about and noticed a picture on Miss Pear's desk. Sibella walked over but couldn't see the subject and reached out to turn it.

"Please don't touch things on my desk." Miss Pear said and turned the picture by its frame further from Sibella's view.

Sibella flushed. She had been rude to move the picture but she only wanted to see if it was of a young man or anyone interesting such a mysterious child. But Miss Pear never noticed her discomfiture, having gone back to typing. Sibella was about to apologize when Adam's office door opened and he and another man stepped out, a slender, rough looking man about ten years older than Adam.

"I'll let Chauncey know who I am and that the sleeping quarters serve me fine," the man said. "And thank you, again." He put on his sweat-stained hat that was soiled about the brim and he and Adam were about to shake hands when Adam saw Sibella.

"Here's my wife now," Adam said and moved toward her. Miss Pear had risen and was about to announce Sibella's presence but quickly sat back down; that woman always preempted her, trying to make her look useless. The man pulled off his hat again and gave a modified bow.

"Glad to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Cartwright. I'm Moss Owens, your new driver, or so that's what your husband tells me. You can just call me Moss."

"Oh," Sibella replied, judging how charming she should be and noticing his slight southern accent. "Welcome then. I suppose you start tomorrow—I mean driving me about if I care to go anywhere."

"Yes, ma'am. Suppose that's true."

"Who's driving you home today?" Adam asked, watching Sibella as she considered how to answer him.

"Well, Alan drove us to town and since he's staying at the hotel and Summer is such a calm horse, I can manage her on my own."

"The only good thing about that answer is that Alan's not staying with us another night." Adam turned to Moss. "He drank a whole bottle of my expensive wine. But, Moss, you may as well start earning your pay." Adam took out his wallet and handed Moss a dollar. bill "This should buy you a few beers but not enough you get so drunk you'll run the buggy off the road and dump my wife into the dirt; would hate to see that expensive feathered hat ruined. Sibella? Two hours enough?"

Sibell raised her chin, deciding to ignore Adam's remark about her hat; she knew she looked fetching in it and it had been expensive but the red feathers matched the trim of her blue suit perfectly. "I'm meeting Alan at 12:30 for lunch. So make it 2:30, Mr. Owens. That'll give me enough time to buy another hat, one with lots and lots of feathers to wear on the ride home."

"Might not want to do that, ma'am," Moss said. "This is still Paiute country, I do believe, and with all those feathers, someone may mistake you for an Indian chief and pop off a shot." Adam suppressed a smile, Miss Pear giggled and Sibella fumed.

~ 0 ~

Adam sat at his desk, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle while Sibella stood at the window looking down at Moss heading to one of the saloons. Adam's tie was loosened, his jacket hanging from the coat rack and covering his shoulder holster.

"I'd appreciate you getting along with Moss, Sibella. Chauncey has his hands full driving Mrs. George back and forth and besides, I want someone there during the day.

"Moss Owens hardly looks like someone you would hire," Sibella said, still holding the jewel box against her. "He's a bit rough, insolent, and sounds like he's from the south. You sure you can trust him?" She glanced at Adam who was watching her closely.

"I trust him or I wouldn't have hired him. And as for his accent, he's from Tennessee. He fought for the Confederacy."

Sibella turned toward him. "Why hasn't he gone home then?"

"Could be his home isn't standing anymore." Adam stood up and went over to her. "Sibella, the war is over and as for Moss being rough, I wanted someone who wouldn't hesitate to shoot. Seemed an army man, no matter which army, was the best choice."

"Well, maybe he won't hesitate to shoot you," Sibella retorted.

"Then you better keep your ankles covered and your suits buttoned up to your neck because the only reason he might shoot me would be to have you. I can understand that motivation." He grinned at her.

"Oh, you…" No matter how much she tried to get back at Adam, he always turned it around. "I don't plan on even speaking to him, teasing me about a feathered hat. Really, Adam! You should have fired him then and there!"

"I think he'll do the job just fine. And what's that you're holding so dear?" Adam asking, motioning to the box.

"Oh, this is the sapphire set." Sibella handed the case to him. "I decided you're right and the jewelry, the sapphire set should be in the bank. Would you handle it this afternoon?"

Adam stood up, pulled out his keys, unlocked a bottom desk drawer and placed the box inside, relocking it. "I'll take it by before I head home. What else is bothering you, sweetheart."

Sibella moved away from the window and toward Adam's desk. "Oh, just…Mrs. George said you left early, even made the coffee and had peach pie for breakfast. Did you check on your father? How is he?" Sibella moved some envelopes off a stack of catalogues and magazines, two she recognized as hers. "Oh, my magazines have finally reached me! Good." She picked them up: The Revolution and Godey's Lady's Book.

"Your past has caught up with you." Adam remarked, thinking of Alan as well as the magazines. "Quite the dichotomy, Sibella; one magazine pushing the latest in women's fashion and the other telling women to work on a wharf equally with men and to march against the outdated institution of marriage. And yes, thank you for asking, my father seems much better. He's not coughing as much and his appetite returned."

"Good. I'm glad to hear that." She placed the magazines back on the desk. "Adam, would you bring them home with you? And there's nothing wrong with looking fashionable while upending societal confines of women's rights." Sibella glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 12:10. "I'm meeting Alan and another friend for lunch at the hotel. They're both staying there for a bit so I decided we'd eat in the hotel restaurant."

"Who's this other friend? Anyone I know?" Adam was suddenly suspicious. Sibella hadn't mentioned this other friend last night so it must be a man.

"No, no one you know and I doubt my father would have mentioned him to you. He's just an old friend I haven't seen in a few years." Adam raised one brow and Sibella was unsure just how was she going to handle this. "His name is Thorne Culhane. Thorne with an 'e' at the end." Adam sat silent. "Well, I was thinking it wouldn't look right for me, a married woman, to have lunch with two single men, especially with one I was once engaged to."

"I assume you don't mean Alan."

"No, not Alan. You know that. But I don't yet have an established reputation except as your wife and I do want to be accepted by what society there is in Virginia City." Adam said nothing, just watched Sibella carefully. "Stop looking at me like that, as if you're ready to pounce. I only wanted to tell you in case someone said something nasty or unkind about me. It would reflect on you." Sibella was suddenly inspired. "Adam, why don't you join us?"

~ 0 ~

In response to his knock, a man's voice said, "Come in." Alan was hesitant as the "Do not Disturb" sign was hanging on the knob, but he turned it and stepped inside. A half-naked woman was in the early stage of dressing, just having pulled on her pantaloons. Alan stared, surprised, but at least now he understood the desk clerk's odd expression when he asked about Thorne. After all, this was a respectable establishment and the woman was obviously a whore; she didn't even bother to cover her bare breasts.

Thorne, wearing a robe, placed some money on top of the bureau by the door. "I'm not paying to see you dress so make it fast and get the hell out."

"I was right about you all along," she said, quickly pulling her dress sleeves over her arms and reaching back to hook the dress, eschewing a chemise or corset. "You are a mean son-of-a-bitch." She turned to Alan, "What the hell are you staring at. A body would think you'd never seen a woman dress before and unless you want to pay for the show, stop staring."

Alam flushed and went to look out the window. He should have known Thorne was only using him as he did everyone else, but how could he have possibly resisted? He was so weak when it came to a well-built man, and it was fortunate Adam Cartwright had never given him any signal he was interested in a quick fuck, Alan considered, or he would have betrayed even Sibella to be with her husband.

The woman quickly finished, grabbing her shawl and snatched the money on her way out, turning to look at Thorne. "Find someone else next time." She slammed the door behind her.

Alan cleared his throat. "I didn't expect you to have someone here."

Thorne walked closer to Alan and he could smell the woman's rank odor on him. "You didn't arrive last night so I was bored. Now come here. We have a good 20 minutes." Thorne tossed Alan's hat on the bed and then reached for him, pulling Alan into his arms and placed a hot kiss on his mouth. Alan practically swooned.