III

"But, Adam, think of my reputation. I can't go waltzing off to San Francisco with you and be gone for two weeks. What would people think?"

"They would think that Adam Cartwright is one lucky man," Adam said as he turned Alicia to look at him. He admired her. Alicia Whitman was a lovely woman, gentle and kind-hearted. She had been a widow for three years, her youngest, Timmy, only being a few months old when Bruce Whitman bled to death at the sawmill. Ben Cartwright felt guilty. Just that morning he had told Whitman that maintenance, the oiling and sharpening, needed to be done on the blades and it was in doing so that Whitman had an inexplicable accident and basically cut himself in half at the waist; Dr. Martin said that he may have lived only a few seconds but that was the most. The blood-soaked sawdust on the mill floor was burned and Alicia was kept from seeing her husband's body until the undertaker had managed to place him in the coffin, dressed and looking whole.

After the funeral, Adam or Ben would visit Mrs. Whitman and her two sons every week and drop off groceries and deliver Bruce's pay; she would receive the money for her lifetime as compensation for the loss of her husband while he was in the employ of the Ponderosa. After the year of formal mourning, Adam began to see Alicia Whitman socially; he had come to like her. She wasn't beautiful but Adam wasn't interested in that anymore; he wanted a peaceful life now and to be happy and with Alicia and her boys, he found that he was content. And he had decided that passion wasn't necessary for a happy marriage. Actually, it occurred to him that pleasant companionship was probably more important than deep love in choosing a wife. He found that kissing Alicia was pleasant and she was amiable and respected by the community. The natural course seemed to be to marry her but Adam found that he couldn't take that next step. Maybe this trip to San Francisco would be what he needed to seal their relationship.

"What about Sully and Timmy? I can't just leave them. They would miss me too much. Why Timmy's only three."

"Pa said that they could stay at the Ponderosa. You know how much they like being there, how they talk about it being their home, their house someday. Why they've even picked out their bedrooms." Adam smiled.

"I don't know, Adam." Alicia gently disentangled herself from Adam's grasp. "I've never been to San Francisco before and I've heard that it's quite the wicked city. It's just too much—going away with you and visiting a strange city and our not being married."

"All the more reason for you to go with me, Alicia. You'll have a wonderful time and Mr. Wilson assures me that he has more than enough room and you wouldn't want for a chaperone—his unmarried sister lives with him and so you would have another woman present. And this is the best of all, you'll be able to take in an opera by Mozart. You can get all dressed up in your fanciest clothes and I'll take you and Wilson and whomever he chooses to bring along, to dinner at one of the best restaurants in the city. The food will be marvelous, I promise. You'll have a wonderful time. Please come with me, Alicia."

"I don't think so, Adam," Alicia said. "I'm sorry to disappoint you but I'm not a big opera fan and as for Mozart, well, he means nothing to me. If you want to take me to dinner, take me to the Imperial House in town. Don't go to San Francisco. Everything you could want is here—not there. Besides, I don't even know Mr. Wilson."

"Come for dinner tonight at the house," Adam said, "you and the boys. You can meet Wilson then. I'm sure that you'll like him and he'll make you feel welcome to visit. The only thing is that he may steal you away from me since he's unmarried." Adam wanted to reassure Alicia that he cared for her.

Alicia looked at Adam and sighed. She had always thought that Adam Cartwright was a handsome man albeit aloof. Not only that, he was wealthy and educated and had fought in the war and survived whole; her two sons saw him as a hero. But she knew that Adam had been engaged before but never married and people gossiped that he never would because no woman could keep his attention long enough to get him to propose. Adam had been sparking her almost two years and Alicia understood why the gossips said what they did; he had only vaguely responded to her hints of marriage as if he didn't understand the full import behind her comments.

Alicia would often tell Adam how difficult it was to raise two fatherless boys, but instead of talking about marriage, Adam would take the boys fishing or he would heft Sully on his saddle and take the boy around the Ponderosa property for a few hours while he checked line. But Alicia had to ask Adam not to do that anymore—Timmy always cried and screamed that he wanted to go too. "Ride horsie wid Adam!" he would scream while he clenched his fists and stomped his feet in the yard when they rode away. And then Mrs. Benbow, the woman in the small house next door would look out her windows, pushing aside the lace curtains, as Alicia calmed the child by promising him anything if only he would hush.

"I don't think so, Adam. I really can't go to San Francisco, but," and although being coy and flirtatious didn't come naturally to Alicia, she thought she would try. She turned to look at Adam under lowered lids, "I hear that it's a wonderful honeymoon destination. That and New Orleans. Maybe one day I'll see one or both cities."

"You could see San Francisco now," Adam said, "if you'll come with me."

Alicia gave up. She didn't know if Adam was intentionally being dense to avoid the subject or if he really didn't understand the subtext of her words.

"No, Adam. I can't go. Please don't ask me again but will you stay for dinner with us? I haven't seen you for two days and the boys and I have missed your being around."

Adam sighed with disappointment. "I can't—it would be rude since Wilson is a guest. Why don't you and the boys come tonight for dinner instead. Since I'm leaving tomorrow, we can have a last night before I go."

"You know how raucous the boys can be. They adore Hoss and always want to wrestle with him. They wouldn't be content to just sit politely at table. I try to teach them manners but they really need a father to be an example of what a gentleman should be."

"Bring them tonight and they'll have four substitutes to teach them manners, although as far as being gentlemen, well, Hoss and Joe…" Adam smiled to show Alicia that he wasn't upset with her refusal to accompany him. "C'mon." Adam pulled her to him again. She smelled of lemon verbena, and her reddish-gold hair glistened in the sunlight slanting in the kitchen window. He smiled down at her, tilted her chin up, and kissed her on the tip of her nose. "Come to dinner tonight."

Alicia wanted Adam to ask her to marry him but he frustrated her to no end. So often she had wanted to ask him if he ever intended to marry her. Although she chastised herself for thinking such things, she wondered where Adam found his sexual satisfaction—it certainly wasn't with her. Belinda Francis a member of the church quilting bee said that she swore that she saw Adam Cartwright entering a house of ill repute, the one near the Silver Dollar Saloon—and it was in the middle of the day. "Watch that man," Mrs. Haverty said as her needle stabbed the squares of fabric, "a man like that has no shame. The sooner you get him married and in your bed, the better off you'll be!" And then all the women offered Alicia advice on how to rope Adam Cartwright and have him ask her to marry him—but none of their suggestions had worked so far.

To her, Adam was inscrutable. There were some times when they were sitting on her front porch that faced one of the least busy streets in Virginia City, that Adam seemed to go away to some unreachable place in his mind and soul. Alicia always wondered what caused him to become so distant but it happened often and then, when she would touch his arm or speak to him, he would snap back to the present and usually leave shortly afterwards. She never knew why he would become inexplicably quiet and didn't know why he wouldn't share his thoughts or worries with her. Alicia never felt that Adam truly loved her—not the way she wanted to be loved but then life never was the way one wanted. Once she and Adam were married, his quiet spells wouldn't matter so much.

"I have a large roast in the oven—I thought you'd come for dinner here but well, I'll just have leftovers instead. I suppose that since you're leaving tomorrow, you can say goodbye to me now. The boys are playing out back and you can tell them that you'll be gone for two weeks. They'll miss you. They think of you as a father, you know." One of the women had told Alicia to constantly remind Adam that he was a father figure to her sons and that it should bring out the paternal instincts in him—even if they were another man's children. He would start to think about marriage then. It would remind him that she was capable of having sons and every man wanted a son.

Adam sighed and stepped away from Alicia. "I'm sorry you and the boys won't be there tonight. I also wish you'd come with me to San Francisco but it's your choice. I'll go see the boys." Adam put on his hat and walked out the kitchen door that led to the back yard with the chicken house and the clothes line. There was a swing hanging from a tree branch that Adam had rigged a few months ago.

Alicia threw a dishtowel across the room but it was unsatisfying—no noise, not even a thud and the towel didn't cover much distance. She dropped into one of the kitchen chairs. Alicia didn't know what else to do to coerce Adam to propose. And then she picked up her coffee cup and smiled to herself. She remembered that Henrietta Fowler had told Alicia to take a short trip somewhere, anywhere, and then Adam would realize that he missed her and ask her to marry him upon her return. "After all, my dear, absence makes the heart grow fonder."

Yes, she decided as she poured herself another cup of coffee—Adam would realize how much he missed her while he was in San Francisco. She could hear Adam's and her sons' voices through the open window. It sounded like Adam was giving piggy-back rides for she could hear Sully say, "Me next, Adam. Me next to ride!" while Timmy chortled with excitement. Yes, Alicia considered, absence makes the heart grow fonder. But then, she remembered, her smile dropping away, there was also the saying—out of sight, out of mind. And Alicia's confidence faltered.

TBC