Part 5

Adam swung Asia down from the carriage and when she was standing in front of him, he kissed her again. "Feeling any better?" He examined her face, trying to comprehend her odd expression.

"Yes," she lied but she couldn't look at him. Asia didn't feel better. Her stomach was still in knots; she knew that Adam's family and friends tolerated her because he loved her. She was younger than his friends' wives and although she had learned when she had worked at The Alhambra how to keep a conversation light and pleasant, she had difficulty with women. Men were easy to keep entertained but she had to make an effort not to use her wiles on them—it was a trait that she found herself falling into when she let herself relax. It was so easy to arouse a man, to make them hard and to want her. Just a downcast of her eyes and then a glance up at them and they were sweating like a horse, wanting to mount her. It took vigilance; she didn't want to embarrass Adam by unconsciously falling back into her early training.

And the oddest part, Asia always thought, was that she hadn't used any womanly tricks on Adam. It was the other way around; he was the one who had always smiled at her and melted her heart, would kiss her hand and then glance at her as if he wanted to ravish every inch of her but had to settle for her mere hand and when he would say her name and ask after her, Asia found that she would become uncomfortable with a fullness in her belly. And Adam's half-smile let her know that he was aware that he disturbed her.

Nevertheless, Asia knew that Ben, Adam's father, didn't care for her or for the effect she had on him or on Adam. So Asia was particularly cautious around him but no matter what, she recognized that he was attracted to her but that he felt it was wrong since she was—for all purposes—Adam's.

The whole evening was difficult for Asia but she was pleased that Adam seemed happy and it was touching to see how well-loved he was. This was the first year that Adam had been able to talk Asia into coming and joining in the celebration of his day of birth and only the fourth time she had conceded to visit the Ponderosa. That was the only point of contention between them; Adam wanted Asia to be a greater part of his life but she refused. Over and over she refused and Adam would become frustrated and then angry and she knew no other way to respond except with tears or coldness—and the coldness was the worst as far as Adam was concerned. Passionate feelings he could deal with but when she punished him with coldness, he would leave and be in misery until he went to see her and she would take him into her bed again. And as they would lie together, he would apologize and they would comfort each other in the knowledge that they shared a bond that couldn't be so easily shattered. But Asia knew that there probably were some things that Adam wouldn't, that he couldn't abide.

The grandfather clock had just chimed at half past ten in the evening when there was a knock at the door. Adam looked at his father; everyone who had been invited had shown and almost all had left except for one couple who was gathering their things to leave. It was possible that someone had met with a bad situation—a broken wheel or a lame horse, and returned to the house. The look between father and son shared an expectation of bad news.

"Hey, Adam," Hoss called, "you 'spectin' anyone else? Maybe some old girlfriend's shown up to wish you many unhappy returns!' Hoss laughed while the others enjoyed his joke as well.

Adam just shook his head and went to the door—but he was cautious; it was late and guests were leaving, not arriving. He opened the door and a tall, well-dressed man was outside.

"Yes? Did you need something?" Adam looked at him with suspicion.

"I'm sorry. I know it's late—oh, I'm Harvey Dyer, an old friend of Mr. and Mrs. Clavell's, and I was told that she was here and I've come so far to see her that…" He stopped because Adam stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

"I don't know who told you and I don't care enough to ask, but I'm sorry. Mrs. Clavell is a guest tonight and we're enjoying her company. You'll have to see her tomorrow." Adam turned at the sound of the door opening behind him and Asia stepped out.

"It's all right, Adam. Good evening, Mr. Dyer. I didn't expect you."

"Asia…" Adam wanted her inside the house, especially since he noticed a certain indecipherable look between her and Dyer, but to Adam, Asia seemed to look at the man with loathing. So Adam decided he didn't like this man or trust the way he was looking at Asia, almost smirking.

"It's all right, Adam. Really—it is. Go back to your guests. I won't be long." Adam stood, not leaving. "Please. I have business with Mr. Dyer. Private business." Adam reluctantly left her and went back inside.

"What do you want?" Asia began to shake with impotent anger.

"To upset him—that's what I want and I see I did. You see, my dear, Asia, he's going to want to kill me sooner or later and I'm going to have to kill him first—in self-defense, of course. All the witnesses will say that he called me out and drew first and this, my darling, Asia, is the first step in the process."

"Leave him alone," she hissed at Dyer. "Leave Adam Cartwright alone."

"And what will you do if I don't?"

"I'll kill you myself."

The door opened and Dyer grabbed Asia and she was too surprised to resist; he kissed her long and hard, finally releasing her and looking at the faces of Adam Cartwright and his guests who were leaving.

Asia wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and ducking her head, went back into the house. Adam walked the couple to their carriage, helping the wife up and told his embarrassed guests goodbye and Dyer, grinning, waited on the porch for Adam to return. Adam walked up to Dyer and without giving any indication, swung at the man and knocked him down on the wooden planks. Dyer, partially prone, rubbed his jaw, not getting up while Adam braced himself, his fists by his side.

"Get up, you bastard. Get up so I can knock you down again."

"Oh, no, I'm not a fool but you obviously are. I don't suppose that Asia ever told you how she met her husband. It's the same way she met me."

"What are you talking about?" Adam asked.

"You let me stand up and I'll tell you."

Adam stepped back, straightened his jacket, and then rubbed his sore knuckles. "Tell me."

After straightening his own clothing and dusting himself off, Dyer began to tell Adam about Asia, who before she married, was Asia DePierre. She was a beautiful child who had begun dancing in the chorus line of a man's club when she was only fifteen; Sam had noticed her then, the lithe, young beauty with swelling breasts, a supple waist and undulant hips. But by the time Asia was twenty, she commanded the stage where she performed the Dance of the Seven Veils and ended the dance naked on the stage, her body glowing in the stage lights. The men would stand and applaud and then try to buy time with her afterwards. A more seductive Salome had never existed before—or since, Dyer added.

Dyer asked Adam if he had ever been in Baltimore and if he had, had he visited The Alhambra Club? Adam said yes to both questions—it had been after the war. He asked if Adam remembered Asia…or Muna, which was her stage name. Adam said that, no, he didn't.

"Then Asia must have been married and gone by then."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because had you seen her, you would have remembered—you would have fallen in love with her too—as every man did. As I did, as Sam did, and as every man waiting in the long line at her dressing room door had. Oh, we all longed for the seductive Salome. But she chose Sam, the lucky bastard. Maybe it was his money, maybe the fact that he adored her or maybe because Sam was a fool and his heart was good. I had the business acumen; I was the one who managed the business end. Sam, with his bonhomie, drummed up the customers; everyone liked him, trusted him and he was trustworthy. We never cheated anyone and still managed to rake in the profits." Dyer sighed. "I suppose that's why Sam failed here—really no head for business, and Sam as a farmer is laughable. That must be why he drank so much—he hadn't before he met the bitch. Or maybe it was learning his wife had a lover."

"If you mean me, you're wrong. We weren't lovers."

"Not yet? That's what you mean, isn't it? Well, that's your story but remember that Sam was my friend. He loved Asia, that I do know, and 'if"—I'm using if although I don't think it's a conditional conclusion-she had taken a lover, he would be broken-hearted."

Adam hated this man standing in front of him. But he knew that what Dyer had said about Asia, her past and Sam Clavell was true. He wanted the satisfaction of beating Harvey Dyer into a whimpering, bloody figure on the porch, a man begging Adam not to hit him again but Adam couldn't beat a man for telling the truth—no matter how much he wanted to.

Both Adam and Dyer looked to the sound of the front door. Ben Cartwright stood in the lighted doorway, Asia before him.

Ben spoke, looking back and forth at the two men. Ben felt confirmed in his belief that Asia was nothing but trouble and had wanted to tell Adam so many times; she was too young, too beautiful, too desirable for an ordinary man. But Ben also knew that she had trapped Adam between her legs, whether it was intentional on her part or not. And Adam was lost, stabbed through the heart with love for a woman who didn't seem worthy of his devotion.

"Everything all right, out here?" Ben asked.

"Yes, fine," Adam said. He looked at Asia who wouldn't meet his eye; she just pulled her shawl tighter about her.

Dyer put out his hand and Ben shook it. "I'm Harvey Dyer, an old friend and business partner of Sam Clavell's. I came to see Mrs. Clavell since I'm sure she has his power of attorney to dissolve our shipping business or remain in as an equal partner. Besides, she had some profits from her husband's and my last venture; I spent quite a bit of time in Greece and Italy and purchased some fine pieces of art that I'm sure will fetch quite a bit of money in New York. I wanted her to accompany me but I can see that her heart is here."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Dyer. Will you be in Virginia City long?" Ben asked politely.

Dyer looked pointedly at Asia. "That all depends on the lovely Mrs. Clavell. I'm afraid that my presence may only remind her of the loss of her beloved husband—and I'm sure the memory causes her pain, especially since…" Dyer looked at Adam, paused, and then continued. "Well, I must be going." Dyer stepped off the porch and then turned back. "I'll come by your place tomorrow, Mrs. Clavell. Perhaps around noon unless you prefer another time?"

"No," she said. "There is no time I prefer."

Dyer mounted his horse and tipping his hat again toward the three people on the porch, he rode off.

"Will you take me home now, Adam?" Asia asked.

"Yes. Let me get the carriage." Adam went to pull the carriage around and up to the porch but while he was doing it, Ben touched Asia's arm. She looked up at him.

"Mrs. Clavell, I have a feeling that there's more to this matter with Mr. Dyer than I'll ever know but I only hope that you haven't dragged Adam into some mess. If there is anything illegal or such about Mr. Dyer's and your husband's business dealings, my suggestion is to extricate yourself as soon as possible—sign everything over to Dyer. And I ask you as a father thinking of his son, of the young boy he is inside, don't destroy Adam. He loves you—I can see why but yet I don't understand it. He, with all his years and experience should know better than to lose his heart so completely."

The carriage rolled in front of the porch and Ben walked Asia over and helped her up to the seat. Asia turned to Ben, her face tense and drawn.

"Good night, Mr. Cartwright. Thank you for having me over. I enjoyed our talk—thank you." And she sighed deeply and Adam, hatless but too upset to let it bother him, began the drive to her farm.

"Dyer told you about me, about Baltimore and The Alhambra Club."

"Yes. I don't know if what he said is true or not but he told me."

"I'm sure it's true. I was going to tell you myself, Adam, so many times. I didn't at first because I was certain you would quickly tire of me and then it wouldn't matter and then, as things went on, there really wasn't any need. I wasn't a whore, Adam, just a dancer." Asia watched his face but Adam just stared ahead and said nothing but she saw his jaw muscles working and knew that he was controlling his temper. "I was going to tell you on the ride over tonight—Dyer came by this morning…"

"What? He came by? Why didn't you tell me?" Adam pulled up the horse. "What the hell is going on, Asia?"

Asia wanted to tell him everything, to clear her conscience but it might make the situation worse. And then it dawned on her. Dyer wanted her to tell Adam, wanted her to cry in Adam's arms and tell him all that Dyer had done to her—how he had kissed her, implied violence if she didn't slide out of her robe and sit naked before him, threatened both her and Adam and somehow, managed to get a damning letter from a now-dead woman. Adam would then be violently angry, would want to defend her and take things into his own hands. After all, the law could do nothing. Dyer had broken no laws, never actually threatened her and he could easily deny any threats toward Adam. Apparently there was no problem with the law in Baltimore after Frieda's suicide. Asia knew that if she told Adam that Dyer wanted to kill him, Adam would ride into town to give Dyer the chance. Adam would then be playing into Dyer's hands.

"He…he said that he wants to dissolve the business agreement. Dyer never thought that I was worthy of being Sam's wife, that I had somehow duped Sam into marrying me. He wants the partnership to be over and done with. Tomorrow, I'll sign away my interest in his business and I'm sure that then he'll leave Virginia City. When you saw him kiss me on the porch, he…well, he thought I was…I don't know what he thought, Adam. I'm tired and I want to go home. Please don't ask me about anything else tonight. Please. Just take me home."

Adam slapped the reins on the horse's back and they continued. It was a dark night, cloudy and with a slight breeze. Adam had to be careful of the road, that they hit no deep ruts. It had been raining, his father had told him and stopped only a day before their return from the trail drive, and some of the roads had washed away or developed deep ruts.

Adam stared ahead into the dark. "I want to be there when Dyer comes back tomorrow. I'll be there at noon as well."

"Adam, it's not necessary…"

"I happen to think it is. I also think that you're not telling me the truth—at least not all of it."

And Asia felt sick to her stomach. She knew she was a pawn and that Dyer was going to use her to get at Adam and she didn't know how to stop it. But stop it, she had to.

Asia thought she wanted Adam to leave immediately after he took her home but then, when he held her next to him and kissed her, she felt herself melt into his embrace and she desperately didn't want him to go.

"Can you stay tonight?" She asked.

"Listen to me," Adam said, "I want to stay, I love you but I'm also so angry with you that…I want to be gentle with you, hold you and kiss you but I also want to—be less that gentle. Can you understand that? And I don't think both feelings are mutually exclusive, so I think I should just leave."

"Adam, I know that you're upset about Dyer—but after tomorrow, I'll sign off on the business and Dyer will leave and we'll never have to see him again. I promise that, Adam." And Asia meant it; on the ride home, she had devised plans of her own.