TWO
Hoss had been right; Adam had been bothered for months by a sense of passivity, of wasting his life. He wanted to do something more than just own land and cattle and taking care of them as if they were children. He yearned to have more experiences, to see other cultures or to change the world in some way. Adam had been making noise about joining the Union Army; he didn't like the idea of remaining unbiased and seemingly condoning the custom of slavery. But he also knew that the war was about more than slavery; there were economic factors and states' rights that instigated the war due to the secession of the states but still, Adam felt that he shouldn't, that he couldn't just ignore the rest of the world. But Adam knew that if he felt strongly enough about it, he would have joined the army by now and that made him question himself and the type of man he was.
And Adam yearned to travel. He had considered signing on as a merchant seaman or even joining some country's navy just to have the experience that his father and grandfather Stoddard had known. He could see himself at the stern of a ship, watching the black waters as the ship was moved along and he could actually close his eyes and feel the subtle motion of a sea vessel on the water.
Adam sighed and shifted his arms, making himself more comfortable on the feather mattress. But Adam always had to be honest with himself; all this had started almost a year ago when he had begun to feel that he should marry, should have a life of his own beyond the Ponderosa. He yearned for a family of his own and if not all that, at least for a wife, someone to share his bed and his heart. Adam quickly became bored with the women he met and he couldn't understand why they held no long-term interest for him. After the initial excitement of sexual interest, he found them to be bland and uninteresting; they all wanted to be married and there was no faulting them for that-every woman wanted security and children, it seemed, but the choice of a husband seemed to be of little matter to them. Therefore, the women Adam sparked and took to church and dances all seemed to try to finagle a marriage proposal from him, plying him with food and the promise of a placid wife who would give herself willingly to him since that was her duty.
But Adam felt no burning passion for any of these women. There were attractive women, some bordering on beautiful. Some were intelligent, others not so much so. But to Adam, none of them lit any burning desire in his heart, that feeling he had known as a young man in Boston. That was the feeling he wanted so desperately to rekindle, that was what drove him to want to move to search for something that he wouldn't quite acknowledge was in him-a need to be loved. Adam found that a pathetic need and couldn't admit to himself that he harbored it. He would have looked with disdain at Hoss or Joe if they had whined about not being loved. And yet, he felt the pain deeply. He wanted a woman's love, to crawl into the marriage bed at night and take his wife and have her return his desire.
"You're an ass," he told himself as he sat up on the bed against the headboard, crossing his arms in front of him, staring at the far wall. "A goddamn ass. Be glad for what you have and don't go looking for trouble." He closed his eyes and the thought of Hoss with a wide-hipped whore came to him and he felt the familiar desire grow within him. So Adam sat up, pulled on his boots, shrugged on his trail jacket, stuck on his hat and buckled on his gun belt although Adam was sure that he would have to check his gun at the door of the brothel just as they had earlier in the saloon. In Abilene, the tough-talking Marshal Smith, would abide no gun play and made no bones about violators being shot. The sign in the saloon had stated that entry to the establishment would be denied to anyone who didn't check in their guns per Marshal Tom "Bear River" Smith.
Adam walked out of the hotel room and locking it behind him, headed down to the lobby and then out into the streets of Abilene to look for a well-stocked whorehouse to take the edge off before he and Hoss caught the stage out tomorrow. He'd think about love another day; tonight he wouldn't look for that-just comfort.
When Adam returned to the room a little after midnight, Hoss wasn't yet back. Adam tried to fall asleep amid the far-off hoots from drunken drovers and the loud, cacophonous music emanating from every saloon, dance hall and brothel in the cow town. Eventually, he fell asleep until Hoss' heavy snoring woke him. Adam reached for his pocket watch on the nightstand and focusing his eyes in the dim light from the partial moon and stars, he saw that it was three in the morning.
"Damn," Adam whispered, rolling onto his back and throwing his arm over his eyes. He knew that Hoss would continue with his drunken snoring, the unusually deep, and loud sound he made when he had too much to drink. But as long as Hoss didn't roll out of bed to the floor during the night, a possibility since he was so drunk that he had fallen asleep in his clothes, his hat and gun belt, there would be no harm done except that Adam would have a fretful remainder of the night. At least, Adam thought, Hoss hadn't fallen asleep in his boots as well.
Adam woke Hoss by shaking his meaty shoulder. Hoss sputtered, and even swung out one arm that Adam deftly avoided. Hoss asked what time it was. Adam just said that it was time for Hoss to haul himself out of bed. The sun slanting into the window had woken Adam early and given him time to shave and clean his teeth before he went to wake Hoss who rose to sit on the side of the bed, not making any effort to strand up; he just complained about his head and the bright sun.
"Get your drunken ass out of bed," Adam said, pulling on his boots. "We just have time to eat breakfast before the stage leaves. Now let's go." Adam bent down and picking up Hoss' boots, threw them at him. "If you don't get along, you can catch the next stage. I've had it with Abilene."
Hoss yawned and stretched. "Dang, I drank too much. My head done feel like someone put it on an anvil and pounded it with a sledgehammer."
Adam chuckled. "Maybe they slipped you something in your drink. I sure am glad that you weren't carrying much money. Have you checked your pockets?"
"No," Hoss shook his head and then grabbed it with both hands and groaned. Adam laughed at his brother's misery. "I just bought too many bottles of champagne." Hoss stood up, a little unsteady on his feet and managed to stagger over to the chamber pot.
Adam shook his head and he heard the sound of urine hit the china pot and smelled the deep, pungent odor of piss that was mainly the cheap champagne that Hoss had consumed. Adam was sure that Hoss had been scammed. After all, he was, to all purposes, just another wild drover who had been on the trail for a few months and found women much more desirable than the heifers they had become to look at with new interest the last few weeks-the cause of much lewd teasing among the drovers.
"Hey, Boyd," Hoss had called out to another hand as they were just a few miles out from Abilene. "What you gonna do when you lose your girlfriend here?" Hoss indicated a pretty spotted heifer.
"Yeah," another hand called out. "I'm s'prised you ain't asked her none to marry you, you been so moonfaced over her. But I can see why. That heifer sure is prettier that that girl you been seeing out of Carson City-better breath too!"
The men had all laughed and Boyd had flushed. "Yeah, well none of you got no one waitin' back home for you."
"I got a sheep at my ma's. I tie a bow in her fleece afore I do her," another drover piped up and the men laughed heartily again. They needed to laugh; it relieved the tension and misery of the cattle drive that had met with storms, Indians, rationed grub and a longer trip than anticipated so they joked and teased each other, mainly about sexual matters.
Hoss splashed water on his face and spit and rinsed his mouth. "Adam, you got any of that tooth powder? My mouth tastes awful." Hoss reached back and Adam tossed the tin of tooth powder to him. Hoss wet his finger and sprinkled some powder on it.
"I'm not surprised," Adam said, buckling on his gun belt. "I can only guess where your mouth's been but I don't think I want to know-might put me off my breakfast."
"You are funny, Adam. Just 'cause you missed a nice night in Abilene. And they had some pretty women," Hoss said. "And some big gals too and I got me one that was so big that, well, I had to hold onto the headboard-afraid I would fall in."
Adam laughed. "No, I went out last night for a bit. Found a nice, quiet, clean house and a quiet girl who didn't run her mouth the whole time asking questions about what you do and where you're from as if any of that matters."
"You still got our money, ain't ya?" Hoss looked up suspiciously. "You ain't been rolled by some sweet-talking soiled dove, have you?"
"Course I do." Adam patted his trail jacket and felt the length of his leather wallet. "I never even took off my jacket."
Hoss grinned. "Did you take off your hat or boots?" Hoss waited.
"Yeah. The brim got in the way when I lay down and my spurs would've sliced the sheets and mattress. But she worked around the rest of it."
The brothers both laughed, a relaxed, deep laugh and then Adam slapped Hoss on the back. "I'll get us a table and order breakfast. Hurry up and don't forget to bring your saddlebags with you. We're not coming back to the room."
