Chapter Thirty-Six
Tom and Johnny had arrived with Shiloh's horses. Even so, she paid little attention to them other than walking around the paddocks while one of her men was exercising them. She always had Abel in her arms, seemingly holding him closer to her if that was possible. The bright smiles everyone had become accustomed to rarely appeared. A foreboding occupied her, and Etta was becoming more and more certain it would overcome her.
Adam had thought he would do no more than sit next to Hiram during the contract dispute for which he'd agreed to represent the Ponderosa. It was a good thing he was aware of the agreement in question because Hiram unexpectedly called him to the stand to testify.
"Would you state your name?" asked Hiram.
"Adam Cartwright."
"And are you related to Benjamin Cartwright?"
"Yes, I'm his son."
"And, Mr. Cartwright, do you assist your father in the running of the ranch called the Ponderosa?"
Nodding, Adam answered, "Yes."
"In what capacity?"
"Well, I take care of things when my father can't."
"What kind of things, Mr. Cartwright?"
Taking a deep breath, Adam furrowed his brow as if the answer was obvious. "When he's away, I run the ranch. I do the ledgers and payroll. I also bid most of the timber contracts, a good many of our beef contracts, and I usually represent the ranch in legal matters here in San Francisco. Until recently, I've been the trail boss on many of our cattle drives, and I've run the timber camps. I rode herd and fence. And I still determine what's needed for most of the repairs around the place."
"You're familiar with the contract in question?"
"Yes. I priced that contract and negotiated the terms myself."
"So you signed the contract. Not Ben Cartwright."
"Yes, that's right."
"Your Honor, I'd like to draw the court's attention to Defense Exhibit 1 which we've already seen. As you can see, the contract was signed by one Adam Cartwright which we have established is the identity of the witness."
After papers were shuffled, the judge nodded for Hiram to continue.
Hiram turned and looked at the opposing counsel's table with a finger in the small pocket of his vest watching the plaintiff fidget uncomfortably. "And what were the terms of that contract?"
"It called for the delivery of debarked timber on specific dates after which payment was due within one week of delivery."
"Were there any stipulations for requests for late deliveries, say for instance, if they were behind, and they had no room to store the timber?"
"Yes, there were."
"And were there the same type of stipulations to request earlier deliveries if they were ahead of schedule."
"Yes, with sufficient written notice."
"Did you ever receive such a notice, Mr. Cartwright?"
"No, I did not."
"Could you have delivered timber if that notice had come toward the end of the contract?"
Shifting and crossing one leg over the other, Adam smiled. "If it had come before September, yes. We had finished cutting the timber for this contract early, so it was sitting there waiting for delivery in the first week of August."
"So there would have been no reason for you to...conveniently miss...a request for early delivery?"
"Absolutely not. In fact, we would have preferred to deliver early since we had to have several men up at the camp to make sure no one made off with the finished timber."
Hiram then presented into evidence the timber camp log book, the work rosters which redistributed the men to other areas of the ranch, and the payroll records indicating two men were still being paid for that specific camp. He also presented a wire and an affidavit obtained from the clerk at the Virginia City telegraph office sent from Ben Cartwright to the plaintiff that informed him the timber was ready when he needed it. The date of the telegram was one week before the plaintiff claims he sent the notice, a notice of which he had no record.
When Adam and Hiram walked out of the courthouse, Hiram said, "Adam, he was counting on Ben being unable to attend. Word of the trouble on the Ponderosa has made it out here among those who regularly do business with your family. I knew he was trying to take advantage of the situation. I'm glad you were able to come in your father's stead and bring the log book and rosters with you."
"Trouble?" said Adam, half smiling. "If you call having too much to do trouble, so be it. But it's a good position to be in, especially if you can manage to do it all. Which we are."
"Good to hear," said Hiram, smiling and patting Adam's shoulder. "I'll send word to your father that this suit is put to bed."
"Ah, if you don't mind, I'd like to tell him. I need to catch him up on some other things anyway," said Adam.
"All right then. Would you tell him I'll send him a bill for my usual fees?"
Laughing, Adam said, "Of course."
The two men parted company, but before Adam would head home, he had been requested to discuss one of the houses with the man who would be living there with his family. Of all the designs he created, he felt most rewarded by homes that would be filled with families who would change and grow and perhaps pass something he built down through their generations, the same way he felt about his home and his family...and the Ponderosa.
On the way home, Adam thought about his last appointment. The man had been genial and had an idea of what he wanted for his family and with the suggestions Adam made, he began to appreciate what Adam could do for him.
When riding outside the confines of a carriage, say, on a horse, one could see for miles across the gently rolling landscape north and south of the Cartwright home. From the moment Adam turned onto the track to his home, he was searching the pastures, slowly working his way to the smaller corrals and finally to the paddocks surrounding the big barn. Their own riding horses were kept at the carriage house where one side was occupied by a row of stalls. Shiloh's other horses were stabled at the big barn. But he only saw Tom and Johnny working the horses. Shiloh was nowhere to be seen.
He opened the front door and called, "Shiloh! I'm home!"
Walking past the parlor and stairs into his office at the back of the house, he dropped his saddlebags on his desk, then went in search of his wife.
Etta had come out of the kitchen when he called, and greeted him. "Mr. Cartwright, may I get you something to drink?"
"No thank you, Etta," replied Adam, smiling. "Do you know where I can find Mrs. Cartwright?"
Bowing her head, Etta clasped her hands in front of her. "She's spent most of the day in the bedroom. And she had no lunch."
Adam puckered his lips. "I see. Excuse me," he said, turning and trotting up the stairs. When he got to the bedroom door, it was cracked enough for him to see inside. Shiloh was sitting on the side of the bed playing with Abel who was...sitting up. And he wasn't falling over. He smiled at the sweet scene before he pushed the door open and walked briskly to the bed, taking Shiloh's hand and bringing her up to her feet.
"What's this?" she asked.
Next, he gently lifted Abel into his arms, then grabbed Shiloh's hand and headed back out the door without a word.
"Adam? What..."
"Etta!" he called once down the stairs.
The urgency in his voice brought her running from the kitchen. "Yes, Mr. Cartwright. Is everything all right?"
He smiled and quickly passed Abel to her. "Would you watch Abel until supper?"
"Of course."
Shiloh's eyes were wide and her mouth open. "I...what..."
Still holding her hand, Adam pulled her through the entryway and out the front door, down the front steps, and then headed for the carriage house, all the while pulling Shiloh behind him.
When she looked back at the house, she stumbled, but he caught her and pulled her to his side without missing a step. "You and I are going for a ride," he said.
She tried to turn her body toward the house, but he held her up on her tiptoes against him, even as she turned. "Adam, Abel. How can you just leave him like that without even saying goodbye?"
"Sweetheart, he won't know the difference. He's comfortable with Etta. You hired her to take care of him."
"But..." she was almost in tears. "Dinner isn't for several hours. That's too long to be away. What if he gets hungry?"
"He'll be fine." Reaching forward, he opened the door to the carriage house, and with Shiloh still pressed to his side, he entered and closed the door. In the dim light, he moved her in front of him and enveloped her. "Now, what's bothering you?"
Her eyes were moist, her lips turned in a frown, and her brows curved in what looked to Adam like mild panic. "I've never left him without telling him I love him. He'll think we don't care."
With a furrowed brow, Adam moved his head back so he could really see her. "Shiloh, he's too young to know the difference," he said calmly. "And you need to get used to leaving him in Etta's care. That's why she's here. And she's more than capable." He kissed her nose. "Hm?"
Her eyes moved away, but her expression didn't change. "Sweetheart, we've been invited to a party at the Ralstons, and I need you to be that woman who charms people with her bright smile...the one who sets everyone at ease, the one who glides across a room."
"Why?"
"Because Slater and Cartwright will be doing part of the design for his new home, so we'll be spending a lot of time working with him. And he and his wife were quite taken with your last performance here."
The panic subsided, but her frown never left.
"Come on," he said, taking her elbow and guiding her further into the carriage house. "Let's go for that ride."
After hitching a horse and retrieving a lap blanket from a storage room, Adam made sure Shiloh was comfortable before he drove the buggy down the track away from the house. He couldn't help but notice that she turned to watch the house get further and further away.
When she turned back, he took her hand, moving it over his arm. "Etta said you've been in the bedroom all day."
Looking away, she shrugged.
He didn't push her. He was taking her to a place where she could scream, yell, cry...whatever she needed to do to get it out, no matter what it was, though he knew, at least, part of it.
The half hour ride was mostly silent other than the squeak of the buggy and the occasional snort of the horse. Adam turned down a road that followed a gentle slope, the buggy going slowly downward until Adam pulled the reins back, stopping the horse where a sandy trail led out to an open beach and the ocean.
He jumped out and walked around the buggy. "Would you walk with me?"
Looking into his eyes, she wanted to tell him to take her home, but his eyes were that dark color, not quite black, that they became when he was completely sure of himself and wasn't going to take no for an answer. She knew he was just being polite giving her the choice before he removed her from the buggy, so she gave him her hand, though she did so apathetically.
After helping Shiloh down, Adam took the blanket from the buggy, tucked it under one arm and guided Shiloh down the trail by the hand. He stopped on a rise of dry sand, the front of which was gently washed by the salt water. Laying the blanket on the sand, he sat down and tugged on her hand until she sat down in front of him where he could move her between his legs and wrap his arms around her with his cheek against hers.
For a time, they said nothing...just listened to the waves lap at the shore.
Adam waited until she relaxed, leaning her back into his chest. "Talk to me."
"I haven't been away from him since he was born...at least not out of sight. I'm worried."
"Then why did you hire Etta?"
"So she could watch him while I worked with the horses or practiced piano."
"But not so you could perform or take someone interested in a horse riding," he suggested. He felt her tense up again. "Shiloh, that's an excuse. You know Etta is perfectly capable of taking care of Abel. Now out with it."
"Why did you bring me here?" she asked softly, changing the subject.
The corner of his mouth turned up. "To remind you of Santa Cruz. Where you finally opened up to me. Where you said something about taking our children to the beach there. Well, we can take them here. This is part of our property." When she didn't respond verbally, but rather sighed heavily, he bit the inside of his cheek and slightly nodded. "This is about our conversation this morning, isn't it? About having another baby?"
She leaned up and away from him. "I suppose I'm mourning those children I will never have."
Closing his eyes, he let out a slow breath. "I did not say you couldn't have another child."
"You said after we talk to Paul and Annie, we would decide. Paul and Annie have already said I probably won't have the same problem, that it's not unusual for a first child to be large. But they're not going to get rid of that one word...probably. And so their opinion will never be enough for you because probably won't is the same thing as possibly will." She stood and turned to face him. "Did it ever occur to you that even now probably won't is the same as possibly will?"
His lower jaw crooked as he thought about that. Annie had said Shiloh probably wouldn't conceive as long as she was nursing Abel. Not wouldn't. Probably wouldn't. In his fervor to have his wife, he'd conveniently forgotten that little detail. Quickly grabbing her hand, he pulled her back down into him and swiftly laid her on her back, moving over her. When she pushed on his shoulders, he held her hands above her head.
Fear colored her face. "Please don't do that."
"Shiloh, I am not Will Stewart, and I have no intention of forcing myself on you. I just want you to stop that whirring mind of yours long enough to listen to reason." When her breathing slowed, he continued. "We don't have to dwell on this now. We have time."
"What time, Adam? I might have already conceived for all we know."
"I don't think so, Sweetheart," he answered, smiling.
Tears began to well in her eyes, spilling over and trickling down the side of her face. "I don't understand. You talk about children, yet you don't want me to have them. Where do you think these children of ours are going to come from?"
Loosening his grip on her hands, he entwined his fingers with hers. "We could adopt." He didn't understand why that simple statement upset her more...to the point that she had to sit up or she'd choke on her tears.
"You don't understand," she sobbed. Turning into him, she clenched his shirt collar in her hands. "I'll do anything you want. I'll be anything you need me to be. Please don't take this away from me. It's as if I'm not a...a whole woman."
His hands settled on her back even though her reasoning took him by surprise. "What? Shiloh, if I recall correctly, you were reticent about having children."
"Yes, well, that was before I had one. And it's...wonderful."
He had no idea how her face could seem so tortured and her voice sound so...fulfilled...at the same time. But there it was in front of him. He also had no idea that having Abel had transformed her so. The one thing he was sure of...he would have to tread lightly for a while until they could see a doctor.