Monday

Adam hitched his horse to the rail in front of the Silver Dollar saloon and took the folded ‘evidence’ from his saddle bag. He glanced over at the Territorial Enterprise bureau. In front of the big window three boys were playing a game of tiddly-winks, and behind it Adam could make out the shape of Joe Goodman. Well, there was no reason to postpone what had to be done.

The ride into town had taken a heavy toll on Adam; his side was aching like nobody’s business and he fervently wished he could lie down somewhere and die in peace. But—a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do, so lying down would have to wait for a while. Suddenly Adam was happy to have been surprised by Hoss when he had sneaked his way out of the house in the wee hours of morning. Hoss, knowing he couldn’t keep Adam from what he was determined to do, had made him promise to stay in town if the way back to the ranch should seem too strenuous. By now Adam realised that he was in no shape to get on his horse again, let alone make it back home. He’d take a room in the International House, rest a night and the next morning go back to the Ponderosa and his father, who undoubtedly was already raging and would have a few choice words for him.

Adam had to clutch his side when he limped over to the newspaper’s office. His only relief was that he couldn’t feel any moisture through his shirt which indicated that this time Paul’s stitches had held up.

By the time he reached the bureau, his anger had fed itself on his pain, and whatever reason he had reached while he had slept over the whole issue had given way to seething, untamable rage. He pushed the front door open with more force than strictly necessary, crossed the room to Goodman in two long strides, chucked the newspaper on the editor’s desk and, pulling together all the strength he had left, roared at the top of his lungs, “Goodman, I demand a retraction!”

Goodman, looking utterly unconcerned, leaned comfortably back in his chair, his hands folded on the table before him. He smiled maliciously, turned his head and called over his shoulder, “Miss Heatherstone, please. Mr. Cartwright has some issues to discuss with you!”

Adam couldn’t believe they were playing that game again; and when Juliet came over from her desk, smiling at him with well-remembered innocence, white hot rage exploded inside of him. His last sensible thought was, don’t look into her eyes.

***

Juliet stretched out under her bedcovers. After an exceptionally long day she finally had come to rest. That argument with Adam, first thing in the morning, had been not a reprise of their last big battle, but a true expansion. Adam had been…loud. Very loud.

In fact, she had been rather impressed at how loud he could be if he wanted to, and when she had told him that, he had gotten more furious, impossible as it had seemed, and, amazingly, even louder. But the really scary part had been when Adam had become very silent. When his eyes began burning again and had pulled Juliet into their blaze until she had gingerly backed away from him.

By that time, half of Virginia City had assembled before the big window to watch their exchange and the eventual arrival of Sheriff Coffee, who had ended the argument.

Juliet had felt a bit guilty that she had sparked the flames in Adam so much, and tried to prevent the worst, but to no avail. Well, at least she had been able to tend to Adam when he had lain down, completely spent and yet again feverish. And she had kept him company until he finally had fallen asleep.

Juliet pulled the blanket over her shoulders, snuggled deep into her cushion and drifted into a sleep where she and Adam were living in a dungeon quarreling about windmills, while he called her ‘Miss Cervantes’.

Unfortunately in the morning she wouldn’t remember how Adam had ended their quarrel with a long, passionate kiss.

____________

Anybody can become angry, that is easy; but to be angry with the right person, and to the right degree, and at the right time, and for the right purpose, and in the right way, that is not within everybody’s power, that is not easy. ~Aristotle

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Beta-read by the wonderful Sklamb – thank you so much!

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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

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