Chapter 1
The dark-haired, swarthy man, Adam Cartwright, was 38 years old and so far, his life hadn't turned out the way he had once imagined—but then nothing, he acknowledged to himself, ever did. Adam Cartwright decided that imagination served no purpose in struggling through life, especially when dealing with harsh realities. He stood at the open bedroom window of the small, neat house outside of Placerville and gazed at the eastern horizon watching the sun begin to rise. The cool breeze surrounded his bare torso and moved the light curtains. Light as a lover's caress.
The sleeping woman in the bed behind him snored harshly and he smiled to himself. He never slept well when he visited Placerville and part of it was Cassie's snoring but then she was a big woman with broad hips, a thick waist and now-pendulous breasts. "A big ol' raw-boned woman," his brother Hoss would say in describing her. She would be more to Hoss' taste Adam conceded but he did like her and she was nursing his child along with hers, a girl named Mamie, a year older than Ezra, who had been fathered by a "no-count cowboy," as she put it but the man still came to see her whenever he could.
But that didn't bother Adam. After all, he considered, neither one of them were foolish enough to mistake their rare couplings as love-making. The fact that Cassie invited him to share her bed when he visited and to receive the benefit of her talents hearkened back to her previous profession as a barmaid who couldn't make a decent living unless she also spread her legs for some of the patrons. But now he paid her to be wet nurse to his son, Ezra.
Adam also maintained the house for her, repairing loose boards on the porch, oiling the hinges on the gate and maintaining the fence around the yard; after all, he had purchased the home for her and her daughter so that she could now live quietly and no longer have to put up with being fondled by drunken men and the demands of a boss to work more tables by using her ample cleavage to convince the men to buy more drinks. Cassie had told him though, that she missed the silver coins the cowboys would drop between her breasts and that she would fish out later. Sometimes when she undressed, a half dollar would clink on the floor, one she had missed. Adam had chuckled at that. But Cassie had a tendency to fat and since she was now retired, so to speak, it allowed her to eat more and move less so each time Adam visited his son, she was bigger. But she was good-natured, albeit bland, and having been a good friend of Ann's, she was the right person to take care of the boy.
The sun was higher in the horizon but it had yet to take the chill off. The infant, Ezra, I wouldn't have named him Ezra—it's not a child's name but then he will eventually be a man, was an innocent pawn in the game Ann had played; she had gambled on Adam's sense of responsibility. But Adam couldn't get close to the infant. The baby was still a stranger to him, but then this was only the third time he had seen the child and the few times he held the infant, there was no recognition as he felt there should be. A man should feel something toward his natural child.
Adam took his trousers off the chair on which he had thrown them and pulled them on. While he was buttoning up his shirt, Cassie woke and rolled over.
"You leavin' so early?"
"I need to head back home." Adam sat on the now-empty chair and pulled on his boots. Every time he came to visit, he was always eager to leave—no fault of Cassie's; he just felt uncomfortable with the situation…and with the child.
A wail from the cradle beside the bed broke the relative silence. Adam inwardly groaned. Ezra had slept fitfully all night and because he had, Cassie had and because she had, Adam found himself waking up many times and tossing while he tried to get back to sleep. But in a manner, Adam was glad for it as his dreams hadn't been pleasant. Usually he wasn't particularly bothered by his dreams—rarely remembered them, but that night, in the dream that woke him in the early morning and caused him to leave the warmth of Cassie's bed, he had dreamed about finally taking his son home. He had handed his son to his father and when his father pulled back the blanket to see the child, he gasped. Ezra had changed into a snake and tried to slither out of his father's arms, writhing and hissing. Adam jumped back, not wanting to touch the snake, its tongue flicking in and out of its mouth, its eyes, shiny, malevolent beads. "It's not mine, Pa," Adam protested. "That's not my child! That's not what I brought home!"
"But you did bring it home! You, Adam. You brought home a serpent to poison us!" Ben Cartwright dropped the bundle and the serpent slithered out of the blankets, its glossy skin multi-colored, and slid into a hole in the floorboards, its tail flicking with finality as it disappeared. And in the dream Adam's fear of the serpent reappearing terrified him; he knew the snake wasn't gone but was always below, waiting for the right moment to strike him.
Cassie rolled out of bed and put on a robe. She made small, affectionate noises to the infant and changed the child's diaper. Ezra twisted and moved his legs, fussing and making her task more difficult.
"Adam," Cassie said, "hand me a clean gown, would you, He's soaked this one. Adam opened the drawer in the dresser and pulled out what looked like one of the long gowns the child wore and handed it to Cassie. She dropped the wet one on the floor along with the wet diaper and Adam grimaced at the sudden smell of urine. The infant either smelled fresh and pure or like urine and had wet Adam's pants' legs many times as he held the baby.
A small child, a girl with golden curls, appeared at the bedroom door. She glanced at Adam and then ran to her mother, putting up her arms.
"Pick up," the child whined. She was a pretty little girl with plump cheeks and large blue eyes but Adam couldn't help but wonder if she would one day become ponderous like her mother, huffing whenever she had to exert herself.
"Now, Mamie, I have to get Ezra." Cassie went to the cradle and Mamie began to fuss even louder. "Up! Up! Want up! No Ezra! Mamie up!"
"I'll get Ezra," Adam said, "and bring him down." Cassie nodded and picked up her daughter and carried her downstairs and into the kitchen where she put Cassie down on the wooden table to watch as she prepared a pot of coffee.
Adam held the child. At nine months old, Ezra was a sturdy, strong child with a headful of dark, wavy hair that gently curled and his eyes were turning hazel with sooty, thick lashes. In the parlor, Adam sat in one of the easy chairs and held Ezra, attempting to calm the boy by bouncing him slightly but the child continued to wail and squirm, pushing out with his legs and arching his back to get free of Adam's hands until finally Cassie, placing a mug of steaming coffee on the table by Adam's chair, took Ezra.
"He don't know you well," Cassie said as way of apology, "and he's at that age where he's wary of strangers and then they've both got colds and that makes him cranky." Mamie clung to her mother's skirts, staring up at Adam, her thumb stuck in her round baby's mouth. She had crust on her nostrils where the mucus had dried.
"I guess I should come see him more often," Adam said after he had handed the child over. He sat down to drink the coffee Cassie had poured him while she sat on the sofa and unbuttoned her blouse to nurse the boy. Mamie climbed up beside her mother and also wanted to nurse, crying "Me, me...me want tittie."
"One at a time," Cassie said as she gently pushed her daughter to the side. "After Ezra; he's younger and besides, you can eat that piece of bread." Mamie cuddled up next to her mother, sticking one thumb back in her mouth and holding a crust of bread in her other fist, staring at Adam. Ezra still wailed. He could only suck for a few seconds and then he had to lose the teat in order to breathe due to his congestion. Ezra's frustration was evident as he rubbed his eyes and fussed in Cassie's arms and Adam was relieved that he didn't have to deal with the child.
"What age can he start a bottle? I can't leave him here forever." Adam asked. He knew he needed to face the fact that he was going to have to take Ezra home to the Ponderosa and that he would have to break the news to his family; he had had only been putting off the inevitable.
"Well, he could take a bottle now but you got a woman to take care of him? I mean no offense nor nothin' but lessen you're gonna be takin' care of him, you need a woman around. A wet nurse would be best but I'd feed him goat's milk before I'd do cow's. Sometime a cow's milk is too rough on their bellies—gives 'em colic. For some reason, goat's milk is better. Do you have any goats on the Ponderosa?"
"No," Adam said. "But he's old enough, isn't he?" Adam actually hoped the infant wasn't old enough to take a bottle and that Cassie would say that Ezra needed to stay with her at least another year but she didn't.
"Yeah, he's old enough. Takes what, three, four days travel? Maybe even five. You might as well bring a woman back with you to get him. He's not around many men except for Luke and Luke don't pay no never mind to him. Hell, Luke don't even pay much attention to Mamie and she's his blood."
Adam sighed. Doesn't she ever shut-up? Cassie talked constantly and usually Adam just pretended to listen, nodded and made a sound of acknowledgement but this time he couldn't as he needed the information.
Steps sounded on the porch. Adam stood up to look and Luke, a cowboy from a nearby ranch opened the front door and stepped in.
Cassie grinned. "Why speak of the devil and you'll see his tail," Cassie said. "I was just talkin' 'bout you."
"Yeah, I bet you was." Luke glanced at Adam who nodded and sat back down to finish his coffee.
"Coffee on the stove," Cassie said to him.
"Get me some, would you?"
"Can't you see I'm feeding Ezra? And after him, there's Mamie."
"I see that you have your teat hanging out for Mr. High-and-Mighty here to see. Ain't you got no modesty anymore?"
"When you have a squallin' baby, modesty don't mean much." Cassie stood up and Ezra started wailing again as the teat was pulled from his mouth. Breast milk began to spurt out in multiple thin streams. "I'll finish feeding him in the kitchen." Cassie stomped off making her annoyance known and Mamie followed, her thumb still in her mouth, staring at the man who had fathered her.
Luke sat down on the vacated, lumpy sofa and placed his weather-worn Stetson beside him. His hair was slick against his head from days-old sweat more than anything else. "When you takin' your bastard home and makin' him family? I 'magine he'll be thrilled to be one of you wealthy Cartwrights."
Adam stopped himself from telling Luke that he would take Ezra to the Ponderosa as soon as he married his own bastard's mother and began to support them himself other than their having to rely on the $60.00 a month he gave Cassie.
"Well," Adam said, "as soon as I take Ezra, the money ends—just so you know."
"I know it but let me tell you something, Cartwright, I'm not stupid. You only been here three times since that kid's been born and each time you are, you fix up around here and bring Cassie and Mamie presents and all, showing off your money. You rich boys are all alike—you buy whatever you want. And the reason I don't marry Cassie is 'cause she ain't learned to keep her legs together yet and I wouldn't be surprised iffen you don't find a warm greeting every time you show up."
"Well, well," Adam said, snidely. "What's the world coming to when a woman behaves like a woman?"
Cassie came back out, Ezra clamped on her breasts again and Mamie still whining and fussing and tugging on her skirts.
"Can't you shut her up?" Luke said. "I can't bear a whining, snotty-nosed kid and now you got two of them. Hell, Cassie. I got a good mind never to come back."
"You do what you want, Luke. See if I give a no never-mind. Mamie's got your temperament—short-fused and demandin'."
Luke stood up and it looked to Adam as if Luke was going to slap Cassie. Cassie must have thought so too because she flinched.
Adam stood up then; he wasn't going to allow it to happen and Luke looked to him and then recovered himself. He slapped on his hat. "Guess I'll be goin'," he told Cassie. "When you leavin', Cartwright?"
"In a bit but I'll be back in a week to fetch the baby." Adam surprised himself. He hadn't meant to say that, hadn't intended to take the child home yet but now that it was spoken, he had to follow through.
"'Bout time," Luke mumbled as he walked out the front door.
Adam waited until he heard the sound of a horse riding away. He was glad the man was gone as he didn't like Luke and they had clashed the only other time they had met which had been the first time Adam had visited two month old Ezra, the first time Adam knew about the child. Adam looked back at the sofa and Cassie was staring at him suspiciously. "What brought that about—that it's so soon you're takin' 'im?"
"It's just time I did. What do I need for him?" Adam sat back down, resting his elbows on his knees. His mind swirled and his stomach was in knots—he had declared too soon. He didn't want to take the child back with him—wanted desperately to forget his very existence.
"Well, I can have all his diapers clean and ready so you should have enough. Just hang them out the wagon to dry as you travel. Only the messy ones need to be washed. I have enough gowns—you paid for 'em—and blankets and such. But you'll need a woman to hold him and put him to sleep and such and to feed 'im. Unless you think you can do it all yourself. So if you got no wet nurse then you'll need bottles and rubber teats and I'd suggest a goat. Goat's milk seems to be easier…"
Cassie went on talking, going over the same information as earlier and Adam wanted to say, "You've already told me! Just answer my goddamn question!" but he didn't, just listened while Cassie went on and on about cow's milk being difficult for a baby sometimes and about colic and other boring facts about infants and feeding and shitting, Adam thought. To him, that's all babies did—eat and shit. He failed to see any of Ezra's infantile charms that had endeared him to Cassie. Ezra, to Adam, was just another infant but one whose conception had been unfortunately attributed to him. Ann had been the clever one—but then he knew that she was smart, smart enough to know that he couldn't outright deny paternity. She had trapped him irrevocably and he now had an albatross around his neck named Ezra.