5
Amanda, flushed with the importance of her task, went out into the backyard of the house to find Mrs. Cartwright. The space before the trees started again, the lake a few hundred yards beyond, contained the closest reproduction of a flower garden that Adam could create for his wife. It had a winding paved path through banks of flowers and climbing roses—any flower that would grow in Nevada's climate and Adam had left some trees standing in critical places with benches underneath them. The Chinese gardener, Mao Ho, the cook's husband, tended the flowers and had to fetch water from a nearby well to keep the blooms from wilting or dying. Mao Ho worked from morning until dusk, pulling up seedlings from the encroaching trees, removing dead blossoms and keeping weeds from between the pavers. He also clipped the grass with a pair of sheers. Adam sardonically referred to Ultima's garden as "The Garden of Earthly Delights," in reference to the 16th century triptych by Hieronymus Bosch, the center panel depicting nude figures engaged in sensual and amorous activities. But Ultima, by now used to her husband's remarks on her elaborate tastes, refused to display irritation at his teasing and enjoyed sitting among the flowers which Adam had said faded next to her beauty; she was never sure if that remark was sincere. Ultima would take a book of poetry or the newest novel and sit on one of the backed benches and read while the birds sang in the tress and the bees and butterflies moved among the greenery. The activity gave her peace.
"What is it?' Ultima asked as Amanda hurried to reach her. She handed Ultima a business card. It was Mr. Forsyth's calling card. She looked up at the eager young girl. "Have him wait for me in the drawing room. Provide coffee or tea—whatever he likes and also some of that sponge cake. Tell him that I will be there shortly."
"He's very handsome, ma'am." Amanda suddenly realized that what she had said might be construed as disloyalty to her employer so she quickly added, "Not as handsome as the Mister—this man's different—fair-haired and taller."
Ultima smiled to herself. She knew that Adam terrified Amanda even though he barely acknowledged her presence in the house, but the girl's fear stemmed from the fact that one sunny, weekday afternoon Amanda, humming, her arms full of Mrs. Cartwright's freshly laundered lingerie, opened the bedroom door; she was going to put the items in the bureau as she had been told but she was not prepared for what she saw. Amanda dropped the pieces of lace and silk, gasped and clasped her hands over her mouth—frozen in fear; the Mister was heartily enjoying his wife. Amanda knew what men and women did but she had never imagined that it could look like an act of violence, a twisting and thrusting of bodies with arms and legs wrapped about one another and all to the sound of grunts and moans. And then the Mister looked over his shoulder at her and emphatically told her to stop gaping, to get the hell out and shut the door. And the next time, knock. After that, Amanda avoided the Mister at all costs, he had looked so fearsome in the all and all and also because she secretly wished that it was she underneath him on the bed and that he was delving between her thighs instead of those of the beautiful Mistress.
"Thank you, Mandy. Now go and tell Mr. Forsyth, please."
Amanda rushed to do her mistress' bidding, only too happy to speak to the handsome man in the drawing room while Ultima closed her book and considered the situation. She wished Adam was there. It was happening more and more, the desire to have him near.
The first time that Ultima found herself wanting Adam's presence, she was surprised by it. The house was almost completely finished at the time, just the porch railing and some paneling needed to be completed, some areas painted, the dining room papering, and some of the furniture had yet to arrive from the house in San Francisco. Together, they had decided to close down the house in San Francisco and keep a partial staff so that it could quickly be opened and aired out when they visited the city. But this time Adam had traveled to Philadelphia to meet with some railroad men. Adam had asked Ultima to go with him but Ultima had elected to remain behind and wait for the furniture to arrive.
She had been asleep and woke in the middle of the night, sitting up in her bed. Her room's wallpaper had a floral print and the bed was soft with a down-filled mattress and feathery pillows. Adam had complained that he was afraid one day they would both become lost in the damnable, soft thing as they tussled together. But Ultima knew that nothing would keep him from coming to her at night. She slept in fine linen sheets and the furniture was highly polished, one piece being a delicate, carved vanity. Except for the winter months, Ultima demanded that her housekeeper always keep fresh flowers in her room. Adam scoffed at her tastes, keeping his own bedroom almost stark by comparison. Ultima had stated that it was like a monk's room—a minimum of furniture and an uncomfortable bed. Adam just laughed and said that he found comforts enough when he visited her nights—and she could attest that he was no monk.
That night Ultima could have sworn that she heard a specific sound that woke her—Adam calling out her name and her heart rose; Adam was home. She put on her robe and went out to the silent hall and listened but heard nothing. Lighting the lamp she cautiously went downstairs but there was no one; Mrs. Fontaine and Amanda slept in a set of rooms off the kitchen but they weren't up—all was silent. Adam wasn't home and Ultima suddenly felt a loss. She hadn't been aware until that moment that she had been longing to see him return. She had turned and gone back upstairs but stopped first at Adam's door, opened it and holding the lamp up higher to see, she looked about the room. Everything was as neat and as fastidious as he was in his person. But then he only slept and dressed in the room; his den was where he did most of his work—that and his office at the mine site. Ultima placed the lamp on top of the bureau and sat down on his bed. Then, on a whim, she pulled off her gown over her head and stood naked in his room, feeling a bit wanton. With one hand she pulled down the sheets and crawled between them. They were newly-washed and carried none of his scent, the warm odor of his skin, they musky smell of his loins but she smiled to herself as she nestled down in his sheets. Perhaps when he returned, he would sense that she had lain in his bed; he might smell her skin and his desire for her would again be roused. And she fell asleep as if lying in his arms.
But now she wished Adam were home to deal with Mr. Forsyth but she knew she would have to do so alone since Adam was out with his brothers helping castrate male calves. Ultima had told Adam just that morning that he shouldn't work as if he was a common cowboy—he was better than that. But Adam had just chuckled and asked her how she felt being married to a man who sliced off testicles; he did with a sharp knife what she had been trying to do to him with her tongue since they had married—the comment was not only a teasing insult but a reference to what she would do for him with her mouth and tongue when he asked. Ultima had remarked that perhaps she should use a knife and have it done and over; it was far more efficient. And Adam had deeply laughed and pulled her to him and kissed her goodbye for the day. But before he released her, he reached down and cupped the mound between her legs. "Would you really want me to have nothing to drive me to desire you? How lonely you would get." And Ultima put up her face to have him kiss her again but he released her and putting on his Stetson, left for the day.
Sitting on the bench, Ultima composed herself and then, having considered that she had left Mr. Forsyth waiting just long enough to emphasize how unimportant he was to her and Adam, she went into her house to greet the visitor.
TBC