Chapter Three
When Adam woke the following Wednesday when the Cartwright ladies were due to arrive, he quite literally bounced out of bed.
Molly groaned. "Please don't do that, me love, or I'll be sick all over the bed."
Adam frowned. "Still?"
"Aye. Still. Josie said the sickness lasts quite a while sometimes."
Adam leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I'll make you some of that ginger tea Hop Sing sent over. You just stay here in bed." He threw on his clothes and bounded down the stairs to the kitchen. He added an extra burst of speed when he heard the grandfather clock in the living room chime seven. Molly had been bone weary the past several days – she'd fallen asleep at her sewing machine yesterday afternoon – and Adam guessed he'd been so comfortable snuggled up with her that morning that he'd slept right through his usual five-thirty wakeup. He hummed as he brewed Molly's tea and scrambled some eggs for himself. Molly probably wouldn't feel like eating, but he toasted a couple slices of bread for her anyway. When everything was ready, he covered his eggs so they'd stay warm and put the tea and toast on a tray, which he carried back upstairs to the bedroom.
"Breakfast in bed, my darling?" He flashed his most debonair smile. Molly gave him a weak smile in return.
"I'm not hungry, but I'll drink that tea," she said.
"Eat the toast, sweetheart. At least one slice. You'll feel better with a little something in your stomach."
Molly promised she would, so Adam kissed her forehead and headed back downstairs to eat his eggs. He hated not eating with Molly, but the smell of the cooked eggs would have tipped her over the edge, and Adam would have spent the next twenty minutes scrubbing vomit out of the bedroom rug.
Once he polished off his eggs, he returned to the bedroom to collect Molly's tray. She felt a little better after the tea and toast and climbed out of bed to get dressed while Adam washed up the breakfast dishes. Just as he finished up, he heard a deep bark followed by a team of horses trotting into the front yard, and he dashed outside to greet his family. Josie grinned from atop Scout, and Hannah and Patience waved from the wagon that Hoss was driving.
"I rode her gently, just like you said," Josie said as she slid from her horse. She patted the Appaloosa's nose. "She wanted to run, though."
Adam laughed. "She's a Cartwright woman, all right. Trying to do too much even when she's expecting." He reached up a hand and helped Hannah down from the wagon while Hoss lifted Patience from her seat and deposited her gently on the ground. Josie grabbed her own carpetbag from the back of the wagon while Adam and Hoss grabbed the other two, and together they all made their way into the house, Pip trotting through the front door like he owned the place.
Molly had just come down the stairs, and the ladies greeted one another.
"How are you doing, Molly?" Josie asked, peering into her face. "Still sick?"
"Aye, but that ginger tea is helping."
"Good. Just make sure you keep eating, even if you don't feel like it."
Molly rolled her eyes. "I suppose I'll be hearin' that from two of you for the next few weeks!"
Josie caught Adam's eye and grinned. "If you're as stubborn as your brother, you'll need it." She kissed Molly's cheek and skipped upstairs with Pip to deposit her bag in the guestroom Adam had designed with her in mind. Adam followed with Hannah and Patience in tow, leaving Hoss behind to deal with their luggage.
"You know, Molly," Hannah called over her shoulder, "they say that prolonged morning sickness means the baby is a girl."
Adam chuckled as he shouldered open a guestroom door. "I don't know, Aunt Hannah. Molly hasn't been feeling real perky, but she's nowhere near as sick as Marie was when she was carrying Little Joe."
"My sickness didn't last more than about ten days," Patience said, sinking into an armchair next to the window. "Do you think I'll have a boy?"
"I hope not," Hoss said, coming into the room behind them with ladies' carpetbags. He set Patience's on the bed and wiped his brow. "We can't agree on a boy's name."
"I thought it went without saying you'd name a son after me," Adam said, drawing himself up to his full height and straightening his collar.
Hoss punched him gently in his good shoulder – Adam's left arm was still stiff. "I would, Older Brother, but it's just that I know you won't be able to help naming a son after yourself. Thought it might get kinda confusin' if we had three Adams in the family."
Adam reddened. He and Molly had just talked about names the previous night, and "Adam Jr." was, in fact, their top choice for a son. He cleared his throat and patted Hoss's shoulder. "Eric Junior it is, then."
"That's what I said!" Patience declared, throwing her hands in the air.
"Oh no," Hoss replied. "I ain't namin' a poor little baby after a big ugly ox like me."
Patience rolled her eyes. "So ugly you were the first of the brothers to land a wife…" she muttered.
"So name him after Pa instead," Adam offered. "He'd be pleased as punch."
"That's what I said!" Hoss huffed, furrowing his brow.
"What about my father?" Patience shot back, glaring at Adam. "Just because he only has daughters doesn't mean his name shouldn't be passed along."
"Darlin', your father's name is 'Apollonios,'" Hoss said.
Adam cringed. He'd forgotten Reverend Lovejoy's full first name. The townspeople always called him "Reverend," and Mrs. Lovejoy called him "Al."
"It's a good name!" Patience insisted, her eyes welling.
"It does have a lot of history, Hoss," Adam said. Patience beamed at him, but Hoss glowered.
Hannah grabbed his arm. "Sweetheart, I think you've contributed enough to this conversation," she whispered in his ear. "Why don't you show me my room?" she asked loudly enough for all to hear. She tugged Adam's arm and led him out of the room.
Once Adam had gotten Hannah settled, everyone reconvened in the living room to say goodbye to Hoss. He and Patience apparently had gotten over their squabble because they came downstairs hand-in-hand. After a round of hugs, the big man told Adam to take good care of the ladies and then swung back into the driver's seat of his wagon to head to Ben's, where he would spend the night so they could get an early start the next morning.
That evening, Adam presided over the dinner table and smiled at the assemblage. Nearly everyone he loved was seated around his table ready to dive into the meal that Hannah and Josie had prepared to give Molly a break. Molly and Patience didn't know it yet, but Hop Sing would be bringing two of his cousins home from San Francisco to serve as housekeepers and cooks in the two new Cartwright houses. Adam had commanded Hoss to try out their cooking before bringing them all the way back to the Ponderosa – an order Hoss was only too happy to obey. Hoss was also supposed to start sniffing around for a good racehorse for the Virginia City Sweepstakes the following summer, but the brothers had agreed not to mention that to anyone until they had a horse in hand. Ben was certain to bellyache about them spending money on a horse that was no good for ranch work.
"Josie," Molly said as she cut into her roast chicken, "Fionn stopped by yesterday. Asked me to tell you that he's buried in corn right now but he'd be by next week."
Josie smiled. "He sure has been obsessed with his corn this year. I know he got a good price for it last year, but I shouldn't think it's as exciting as all that."
"You know me brother. Always excited about somethin', he is."
"I would think he'd be excited about getting married," Patience said with a sly smile. "Are you still planning for the end of November?"
"Yes, we're planning to hold the wedding on the twenty-fifth, the day after Thanksgiving."
"If you're willing to wait another week, I'm sure I could talk my father into decorating the church for Christmas early this year. Think how lovely it would look with all the pine boughs up like Hoss and I had!"
Josie stirred her peas around her plate. "Actually, we weren't planning to get married in the church."
"No?" Adam asked, raising an eyebrow. Like everyone else, he'd assumed the church would soon be hosting its third Cartwright wedding.
"Don't get me wrong, the church is lovely," Josie shot a pleading look at Patience, "but Fionn and I have decided to get married on the Ponderosa. The ranch has always meant so much to me, I couldn't think of any better place to be married. Uncle Ben already said we could use the house for the ceremony and the reception."
"You won't be able to hold very many people in the house," Adam observed. "Especially since it'll be too cold to have the reception in the yard that time of year."
"We know," Josie said, "but we wanted to keep it small. Just family and a few friends. The Lovejoys, the Casses, Dr. Martin, and Widow Hawkins, of course."
Adam let out a snort of laughter and pointed his fork at her. "That's mean, Josie. I approve."
Josie giggled, but Adam turned somber. "We may need some joy after the presidential election," he grumbled.
"What do you mean?" Patience asked.
"President Lincoln's chances of winning reelection don't look so good," Adam replied. "People are sick of the war, and he and the Republican Party won't end the war until the South surrenders unconditionally. Some Democrats are calling for negotiation with the South, and a lot of people are listening to them."
"I can't believe they'd just let the southern states go and become their own country," Molly said.
"If it ends the war, they might."
"Could we please change the subject?" Hannah asked.
"Yes, of course, Aunt Hannah. I'm sorry." Adam plastered a smile on his face. "What would you ladies like to do tomorrow?
As it turned out, the weather decided their plans for them. Rain poured down the whole of the following day, so the Cartwrights stayed inside. Adam had hoped they'd play some games together, but the ladies collected in Molly's sewing room and spent the day going over dress patterns, searching for the perfect one for Josie's wedding gown. Adam sat in there with them for a while, but when the conversation turned to petticoats and corsets, he excused himself and spent the rest of the afternoon reading a book by himself in the living room. An hour later, Pip lumbered down the stairs and collapsed next to Adam's chair with a heavy sigh.
They spent the next four days together in the living room.
Adam had expected Josie to tire of dresses and fabrics after a few hours, but at the end of the week, she was still sequestered in the sewing room with Molly, Hannah, and Patience. From what he could gather from the snippets of conversation that floated down the stairs, they had moved on from gowns and were now onto veils. The ladies only emerged to eat. Even when they went to bed, Adam hardly saw Molly. Her stomach seemed to be bothering her less, but she was so exhausted at the end of the day that she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Adam had never known it was possible to be so lonely in a crowded house.
He was downright relieved when Fionn showed up late one afternoon at the beginning of the second week of the ladies' visit.
"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes!" he exclaimed when he answered a knock at the door and opened it to see his brother-in-law standing on the porch. Pip shoved past him and took off into the yard with Conall.
Fionn broke into a broad grin. "Why, Adam, I never knew you cared so much!" He grabbed Adam up in a tight embrace.
"All right, all right!" Adam broke free of Fionn's grasp and stepped back. "I wasn't missing you. I'm just relieved to have someone around who's even less interested in dress patterns and fabrics than I am. You'll stay for supper?"
"Why d'ya think I stopped by?"
Adam chuckled as he took Fionn by the elbow and pulled him inside. As he reached forward to shut the door, he caught sight of Fionn's wagon parked in the yard.
"Whatcha got in your wagon, Fionn? A bit late in the season for a new plow, isn't it?" He gestured toward the blanket-draped figure in the wagon bed.
Fionn rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh, that. Just a little somethin' I picked up in Carson City this mornin'."
"Looks like a pretty big 'little something.' And why'd you go out to Carson City again? You're spending more time up there than you are on your own farm."
"Well aren't you the nosy one?"
"That's what they tell me."
One corner of Fionn's mouth twisted up in a half smile. "Can you keep a secret?"
"Seems to be all we do in this family anymore."
"Aye. All right." He took a deep breath and blew it out. "It's a still."
Adam let out a bark of surprised laughter before slapping his hand over his own mouth. "You're joking," he said when he'd recomposed himself.
Fionn straightened up and stuck out his chin. "I am not. I'm gettin' into the whiskey-makin' business."
Adam just raised an eyebrow, and Fionn continued.
"That cider that Hoss and Joe and I accidentally made last year got me thinkin'. I'm Irish. I know me whiskey. So when I went up to Carson City to buy Josie's ring, I looked into what I'd need to distill me corn. I got a good price on a used still, and the man let me pay him in cucumbers."
Adam snickered. "I'm sorry," he said in response to Fionn's scowl. "You're just the only person I know who could use cucumbers as a form of currency. Please, continue."
Fionn kept a suspicious eye on Adam as he continued. "Now Hank down at the Bucket of Blood, he pays sixty cents for a bottle of whiskey that he sells for a dollar, so he makes forty cents profit. I did some figures, and I can make a bottle of whiskey for fifteen cents. If I sell to Hank for fifty cents, he can still sell it for a dollar and make twenty-five percent more than he's makin' now."
Adam's tilted his head. "That's interesting," he said slowly. "And you're sure you can produce the whiskey for fifteen cents a bottle?"
Fionn nodded. "I did me figures three times. And next year I'll grow barley to make it properly and sell for more. Of course I won't be sellin' all of it every year. Best whiskey is aged for years before it's bottled. I'll hold some back each year until I reach a point that all I'm sellin' is the older stuff."
Adam nodded. "You've really thought this through."
"Aye." Fionn shifted his weight. "You don't think your family will be scandalized over me gettin' into the liquor business, do you?"
Adam smiled and laid a hand on his brother-in-law's shoulder. "Pa appreciates a good liquor as much as he does a good business plan. And Aunt Hannah's the daughter of a Scottish sea captain. If anything, she'll be disappointed you're not making Scotch." Fionn's shoulders relaxed. "Now you sit down and rest while I see if I can drag the ladies out of the sewing room."
Adam successfully extricated the women from their fortress, and as evening fell, the family gathered around the table for supper. Josie, especially, was delighted by Fionn's announcement of his whiskey-making venture.
"Next time we're in town together, I'll introduce you to James Reynolds," she said. "He's the best cooper in town. And he owes me a favor for treating his- Well, just for treating him."
Adam chuckled. James Reynolds must have had quite the delicate situation to make Josie blush so brightly.
"Were people in Carson City still talking about the statehood convention?" Hannah asked as she spooned a second helping of green beans onto Fionn's plate.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied. "Seem pretty sure the constitution will pass this time."
"We were disappointed it got defeated back in January," Adam said, "but even Pa wasn't crazy about the way it proposed to tax the mine owners. It sounds like they've got a more equitable document this time."
"President Lincoln is certainly eager," Patience chimed in. "He signed that enabling act back in the spring so he can approve our constitution himself without having to wait for Congress to do it."
"We're a heavily Republican territory," Josie added. "He wants Nevada's votes toward his re-election this fall."
"He's certainly got ours!" Adam said with a satisfied grin as he leaned back in his chair. Five faces stared blankly at him.
"Yours, you mean," Josie grumbled.
Adam's grin vanished as he stared back at the four women and one non-citizen seated around his table. His heart sank as Fionn gnawed on his bottom lip and wouldn't meet his eyes. He knew how disgruntled Josie was over not being allowed to vote, so he couldn't imagine how impotent Fionn must be feeling. Molly came to his rescue.
"Who wants dessert?" she asked, leaping to her feet. "Fionn, I made that bread-and-butter pudding you love."
The corners of Fionn's mouth twitched, and his eyes regained a bit of their sparkle.
"With the whiskey sauce?"
Molly kissed the top of his head. "Of course."