Adam rode into the front yard of the Ponderosa. It had been a long, busy day in town and he was glad to finally be home. After stabling his horse, Adam walked to the house, entering the kitchen through the side door where Evelyn was at the table slicing carrots for supper.
"Boy it's colder than a witch's..."
"Adam!" Evelyn quickly interrupted in a shocked tone. Her husband gave her a wink as he popped a piece of carrot into his mouth. Evelyn couldn't help but smile. "Would you like a cup of coffee?" she asked.
"I would love one, Hon," replied Adam as he warmed himself by the stove. "What are the children doing?"
"They're all in the living room. The majority of them wanted to start unpacking the ornaments and decorations. They wanted to be ready for tomorrow, when you take them out to search for the Christmas tree."
"What do you mean by 'the majority'; is Maisy still Little Miss Sullen?" he asked, before sitting down at the kitchen table.
Evelyn nodded. "I just don't know what the matter is with that child, Adam. She seemed to be adjusting so well to life with us. Sure, Maisy has had some difficulties at school, but Clara Miller has been very accommodating; nothing that would justify her current behaviour."
"You're right, Evvy, it's not justified," Adam concurred. "Ever since December hit she's been sulking about and frankly my patience is wearing thin. I don't want Maisy ruining festivities for the other children, especially Jake."
"Perhaps her mood might brighten once the tree is set up and the house is decorated," suggested Evelyn.
"Perhaps. If not I think Margaret Jane and I need to have a little talk in order to get to the bottom of this."
Evelyn stopped her food preparation and gave her husband a worried look. Seeing the expression, Adam was quick to put her mind at ease. "Relax, Evvy," he laughed, "I mean an actual discussion, not a 'talking to'."
"I knew that," she said with visible relief.
"Sure you did," he replied with a little wink. "You know my dear you are far too lenient with the children."
"That's the pot calling the kettle black, don't you think?" Evelyn smirked.
"Meaning?"
Evelyn clasped her hands together and began batting her eyelashes. "But Pa, I didn't throw a book at Morgan. I tripped and it just flew out of my hands and hit him in the face, all by itself," she dramatized in a sweet, child-like voice.
Adam burst out laughing. His wife was right; he was more easy-going with his daughters than with his sons, especially Mary. "Touché, Evvy," he conceded, "touché."
After giving a victorious curtsey to the defeated party, Evelyn turned her attention to the pot on the stove. She plunged a spoon into its contents and scooped out a small portion. Walking over to Adam she positioned the spoon in front of his mouth. "Here, have a try."
"What exactly would I be trying," he suspiciously asked.
"Rabbit stew," she answered, but Adam's mouth remained closed. "Oh for heaven's sake Adam, it's not castor oil!"
"I love you, Evvy, I honestly do, but I won't eat that. The last time I had your rabbit stew I was in bed with a pail for two days."
"I am well aware of that, Adam, which is why Charlotte was nice enough to come this afternoon and help me with this particular batch."
"This is Charlotte's stew?" Adam asked, making for certain his taste buds and stomach were out of harm's way. Evelyn nodded her head yes. "Why didn't you say so in the first place?" he grinned then took the offered bite.
"Not too bad for someone who can't cook," she uttered.
"Not bad at all," chuckled Adam. "I'm glad Charlotte was able to save me this time around."
"You better watch yourself, Adam Cartwright, or you'll be sleeping on the settee tonight!" Evelyn warned.
"I'm sorry to make fun, Evvy, but of your numerous and wonderful skills, proficiency in the culinary arts has never been of them," he carefully attested.
"I suppose you have a right to be sceptical, given my past efforts," she giggled, "but I have managed to get better over the years, haven't I?"
"Indeed you have my love, a hundred times better. Why your apple pie alone is worth coming home for."
"Just my apple pie?" she smiled quizzically.
"Well that depends."
"On what?"
"On whether or not I'll be sleeping on the settee tonight," he slyly stated with a cocked eyebrow.
Evelyn erupted with laughter. Before she could walk passed him, Adam playfully pulled her onto his lap. After giving Evelyn a long kiss he whispered "So am I forgiven?"
"Of course you are," she blushed then kissed him back.
Adam sniffed the air. "Is something burning?"
"My biscuits!" shrieked Evelyn, jumping up and running to the oven. Grabbing a portion of her apron, she wadded it in her hand and quickly removed the tray of burnt biscuits from the oven. Evelyn cursed under her breath as she placed the tray atop the stove. Adam could not suppress his amusement with the whole situation and keeled over laughing.
"Oh shut up!" she snapped, chucking one of the charred briquettes at her husband.
"I'm sorry sweetie," he said chortled, ducking the flying biscuit," but you have to admit it is rather humorous."
"I will admit no such thing, Adam Cartwright! I have to start all over and I cannot do it with you here distracting me! Why don't you make yourself useful and go chop some more wood for the stove!" Evelyn curtly suggested.
"Yes Ma'am!" Adam retorted, giving his wife a mock salute before making his way to the side door. She responded with one of her burnt creations to the back of his head. Adam spun around. "Geez, Evvy," he remarked rubbing his head, "you could drive nails with those things!" He was outside just in time to miss another flying biscuit. Still laughing, he picked up an axe and started chopping. Maybe a full wood box and a late night serenade would get him back into his wife's good graces; it seemed to work in the past.