Chapter 13

Adam stood outside the front door of the house and rapped with his knuckles. There was a fancy brass knocker on the door but Adam didn't care to use it for some reason. He saw the sheer curtains at the front window pushed aside and saw Sylvia's face looking out. Her mouth opened in surprise and then the curtain fell and the door was quickly opened. Adam had to smile when he saw her joy and then he laughed when she threw herself into his arms.

"Oh, Adam, I'm so glad you're back," Sylvia looked up into his face, examining it to see if his feelings for her had changed. "Did you miss me?"

"More than you could possibly know," he said and held her closer. A sudden passion overtook him and he suddenly wanted to marry her immediately. He wanted no one else in his life but Sylvia—that to him would be perfect. Just him and Sylvia in a small house set off from all society. There they could enjoy each other's bodies and revel in the physical aspects of a relationship and during pauses in their passionate embraces, they would talk and explore the way each other thought. He knew there was more to her than that as she often surprised him and he realized he actually knew so little about her but at the moment he wanted to abandon all other responsibilities and just live in her glory, her beauty and her love.

"Did you bring…your son home?"

"Yes." Adam felt relief when Sylvia smiled; she even seemed to relax a bit.

"Good. I'm glad that you did. Come in, Adam. Please." Sylvia took his hand and pulled him into the parlor. "Aunt Polly, Adam is here." Sylvia stood in front of Adam, holding his hand behind her, and he felt that she was protecting him.

Polly was setting the table for lunch. She pulled herself up as tall as she could to appear more dignified and formidable. "I told you what I think, Sylvia, and if you go ahead with this relationship, well, your parents had better not blame me as I wash my hands of the whole thing." Polly left the room. The silver ware hadn't yet been laid..

Sylvia turned to Adam. "Don't mind Aunt Polly; change is difficult for her to accept. Won't you have lunch with us? Please, Adam."

"I don't think I should. I'll be back in an hour. Do you mind? " He caressed her face; she was beautiful and he realized how lucky he was that she loved him.

"Oh, Adam—please stay. I want Aunt Polly to know you better and to like you." Sylvia, still holding Adam's hand, turned and with an awkward smile, led him into the dining room and asked him to sit and Join them.

"Before I do, what have you told your aunt?"

She sighed before she spoke. "I told her about your son and that you had asked me to marry you. She said that you were only marrying me to give your son a mother."

"Sylvia, that's not…"

She put her fingers to his mouth to stop him from talking. "It doesn't matter, Adam. I don't care what the reason is. I want to be your wife and that's all that matters—at least to me."

"Sylvia, I've told you that I love you and I mean it—I do. I've missed you so much—so very much these past few days. I wondered if you had changed your mind about me, if the idea of my already having a child had soured you."

"No, it hasn't and I want to meet him, Adam. Will you take me to meet him?" Sylvia held onto Adam's hand.

"Now?"

"After lunch. Join us and then I'll tell Rollie to hitch up the buggy; we can go out to the Ponderosa together."

"Are you sure about this, Sylvia?"

"Yes, I'm sure." Sylvia raised herself on her toes and kissed Adam lightly on the cheek and then smiled at him; he had to smile back—she was so lovely. "Now stay for lunch. I'll fetch you a setting." Sylvia left him and he could hear hushed voices exchanged in the kitchen but they weren't loud enough for him to understand; all Adam knew was that one voice was Aunt Polly's and one was Sylvia's.

Aunt Polly was dour through the meal which consisted of a pasty pie filled with chunks of tender beef, potatoes, carrots, peas and a thick brown, savory sauce all enveloped in a rich crust. Although Sylvia only sipped water, both Adam and Aunt Polly sipped a sweet sherry "to balance the savory," Aunt Polly had said. Adam didn't care much for the sherry or its cloying sweetness—he much preferred a dry sherry if he was forced to accept one for politeness' sake but he said nothing. He was determined to be compliant and excruciatingly civil.

Sylvia carried the burden of the conversation, trying desperately to engage her aunt and Adam in a mutual subject and Adam tried his best to assist her but Aunt Polly answered in polite monosyllables and methodically ate.

"Aunt Polly, I'm going with Adam out to the Ponderosa to meet…" She looked to Adam.

"I've brought my son home. Sylvia wants to meet him."

Polly pushed her half-eaten food away from her and placed her hands in her lap. "I have tried to point out to Sylvia that you need a mother for your child and a wife to hopefully deter any scandal. Who better than a young, foolish girl who has been won over by your dashing looks and wealth. People may not be as vicious and cruel since she is…vulnerable."

"Aunt Polly!"

Adam put his hand over Sylvia's as she started to rise. She sat back down and looked to him, not knowing what he was going to say but fearing it.

"I know you love Sylvia—I do as well—and you're correct in that I do need a wife and a mother for Ezra. But I can't think of anyone I would rather marry than Sylvia—I had decided upon it even before I knew of my son. And she has a pure heart…" Adam stopped; he was saying more than he intended, revealing more of his heart than he was comfortable with but he wanted Polly to know that he loved her niece. "I don't deserve Sylvia. I know that—but Ezra, my son, does."

Aunt Polly stood, quaking and Adam stood as well. "You've taken advantage of her…of her…social conscience, so to speak. You knew that the idea of a motherless child would appeal to her heart and you've taken advantage of my niece. May you be damned if you ever hurt her." Polly walked out of the room with all the dignity she could manage.

"Sylvia," Adam said, sitting back down. "Perhaps we should…wait. What your Aunt Polly was brave enough to tell me, what she thinks, others probably do as well. I just hope you don't."

Sylvia gave him her bravest smile. It wouldn't do to tell Adam her fears and reservations—not now. She knew Adam had his own fears with which to deal and she was determined to stay strong for his sake.

"Take me to meet Ezra, Adam. Will you?"

At that moment when Sylvia stood before him, her face glowing with love, Adam was sure that he had made the correct choice of wife.

Fiona sat at the table with Ezra in her lap while a disapproving Hoss stuck his head out of the kitchen to gauge her progress. She was trying to feed Ezra hominy grits that had been thinned with milk. He kept trying to wrest the spoon from her hand and whenever she managed to get a spoonful in his mouth, he pushed half out with his tongue. His gown was soaked with the grits—he had fussed so much about the napkin tied around his neck to protect his clothes, pulling at it, that Fiona finally took it off.

"Take off gown," Hop Sing had advised her. "Easier wash child than clothes." But Fiona had said that she wouldn't have Ezra look like some pagan child who ran around in diapers only. Modesty needed to be instilled at an early age. Ben had needed to step in and resolve the issue before Hop Sing gave his walking papers again.

Adam and Sylvia walked in the house and Ben rose from his chair where he had been reading the iTerritorial Enterprise./i

"Why, Sylvia, how lovely to see you." Ben took Sylvia's hand and looked to Adam.

"I told my father we were to be married."

"I hope you approve," Sylvia said.

"Overwhelmingly!" Ben smiled at Sylvia. He saw the attraction she held for Adam; she was a beautiful woman and he even felt the draw. Ben had to remind himself that she would be his daughter-in-law, his daughter and he needed to ignore her beauty.

Adam slipped his arm around Sylvia's waist and turned her to the table where Ezra babbled, beating with the spoon that he had finally managed to take from Fiona, on the table top. Hop Sing came out of the kitchen and took the silver spoon from him and gave him a large wooden spoon instead that Ezra immediately put in his mouth.

"Fiona, this is Miss Sylvia Matthews." Adam looked proudly over at Sylvia. "She's going to be my wife and Ezra's mother."

"Oh, well, I suppose then that you'd best be getting' to know him right away. He's a fine boy and a true boy not mindin' if he's a mess." Fiona stood up, holding Ezra out like a sack of flour and handed him over to Sylvia who was surprised but took the child.

"Fiona!" Adam said. "Sylvia—your dress. Here hand him to me."

"No, no, Adam. I want to hold him. He's a sturdy one, isn't he?" Sylvia looked down at the child she placed on her hip, her arm around him. He had grits in his hair and on his gown and smeared over his chin and round cheeks but he looked at her with his large hazel eyes and smiled as babies do, still gnawing on the wooden spoon.

"Oh, so you think you're a clever boy," Sylvia said, adjusting Ezra in her arms as Fiona glared. Things hadn't gone as she had hoped. Instead of being fussy about her clothing as most fine ladies were, this woman seemed less inclined to put on airs. Fiona knew about fine ladies who only saw their children twice a day—in the morning before the day's social activities, and at night when the children were washed and put to bed. They relied on the nurses to take care of their children and if only Miss Matthews were like that, well, her employment would be assured but Miss Matthews seemed to like the child. Or maybe, Fiona hoped, maybe she was only seeming to like the boy to please Mr. Cartwright.

"Sylvia, why don't you give him back to Fiona to wash and dress? You can…well, I'm sure you can wipe off the cereal…" Adam stood looking helpless. But Sylvia just laughed and sat down on the settee with Ezra on her lap.

"Oh, Adam, he's beautiful—he has your mouth and your chin. And his eyes are your color—not brown, not green and a bit of gold." Sylvia talked nonsense to Ezra and he tried to share his spoon with her by putting it to her mouth. She laughed. "No thank you, Ezra. I believe that's your spoon alone."

Waves of relief washed over Adam. Sylvia seemed to like Ezra—sincerely—and he appeared to take to her; he kept his eyes on her and smiled continually.

Fiona walked over and to Sylvia and put out her arms. "Let me take him, ma'am. I'm sure he's going to wet any moment and you don't want a wet lap." Fiona picked up Ezra and pulled him off Sylvia's lap.

"Oh, I suppose—all right, Fiona." Sylvia stood up as Fiona, holding Ezra who still chewed on the spoon, took the child upstairs.

"Sylvia," Ben said, "I'm sorry about your dress."

"Yes," Adam said. "I'll pay to have it cleaned."

"I take to number four cousin," Hop Sing said. He was wiping off the table top and the floor where the grits had spilled. "He have laundry and do all Cartwright fancy clothes."

"Really, it's not worth any fuss," Sylvia said. "It's just a bit of cereal," she said as she attempted to brush the morsels of cereal off the bodice, "and this is an everyday dress. It's nothing—really. Just a wet cloth, a little wipe and it'll be good as new. Babies are babies and they're messy. I know that, Adam. I do. I'm not walking blindly into this." Her chin quivered slightly. Seeing Ezra had affected her more than she thought it would—she found herself wishing she were truly his mother, had given birth to him. But the reaction that shocked Sylvia the most was that even though Ezra's mother was dead, Sylvia envied her. The child's mother had lain in Adam's arm, pleasured him and the child was the proof of their joining. Sylvia felt her heart would break. Hop Sing broke the silence and she swallowed the tears that threatened to fall.

"You come with Hop Sing. Come into kitchen. I make nice cup of tea for you as well." Hop Sing motioned with the hand holding the dish rag and Sylvia looked to Adam and offered a small smile. Adam noticed her eyes glistening. He realized that she was overcome with emotion but he couldn't resist her. Adam held her chin up and leaned down and kissed her. Ben and Hop Sing both politely averted their eyes.

"Thank you, Sylvia," he whispered, his mouth next to her ear. He could smell the sweetness of her hair, the soft scent of her skin. "Thank you for not leaving me alone in all this."

"A wife is to be her husband's help-meet. I believe that's the Biblical term," Sylvia said trying to make light of her decision to marry him—child and all. "Now let me go make myself presentable. I can't let my Aunt see me like this. She'll think I had a bout of clumsiness."

Adam smiled and Sylvia left with Hop Sing. Then he turned to his father who stood with his hands in his pockets. "Sylvia's a fine young woman, Adam. You had best treat her well."

"Now why wouldn't I?"

"Why indeed? Just don't treat her like a servant in your house. Ezra is your son—not hers. You need to love the boy no matter what doubts you have. None of it is Ezra's fault or Sylvia's. Be good to them both."

"It never occurred to me not to be," Adam said. Ben sat back down and took up his newspaper again. Adam stood still for a few seconds more. He was no longer sure that he wanted to share Sylvia with Ezra; he wanted all of her attention, all of her love. Adam knew it was selfish and childish but he wanted her all to himself and in a way, he knew that it was because he felt that no one had loved him alone—just him and no one else. And the small, lonely boy inside him wanted to be loved the most by Sylvia.