Chapter 16

Adam slept fitfully. Dreams plagued him-unpleasant dreams. That night he dreamed he was riding his horse in the dark—it was night, an endless night it seemed, and he was looking for Sylvia. His horse stumbled over roots and he had trouble keeping his balance. But he knew Sylvia was somewhere in the pine forest and he called out for her repeatedly. He would stop his horse, barely breathing, and listen but she didn't answer. And he was filled with terror that she was lost forever.

He woke up with a gasp and glanced to his side, his heart thumping. Sylvia slept calmly beside him. His breathing clamed as he watched her sleep, her face pure and clean like a child's, her dark curls on the pillow. But she was no child—she had shown him that as they had consummated their marriage. Sylvia surprised him with her boldness and her desires, surprised him and pleased him, and she had fallen asleep in his arms. As Adam held her, tears snaked down the sides of his face. Damn fool. Sentimental, sappy, damn fool. A woman loves you and that emasculates you at the same time; you turn into a weeping, mawkish idiot. But he was happy. He now knew what pure happiness was and then he became sad because in the morning, life would return to what it had been, with all the problems and conflicts, struggles that were always there. But he hoped that they could keep their marriage bed a type of refuge—a place of both physical and emotional joy.

Just the sight of Sylvia's face and her round arm that was over the blanket made Adam want to wake her, to pull her to him and kiss her yielding white flesh, to run his lips down her neck and to enjoy the lushness of her body but they hadn't fallen asleep until early morning so he didn't—just watched her sleep and listened to the soft sip of her breath.

Adam sighed and stared at the ceiling. It would be another two hours before the sun began to rise, before the sky outside the bedroom window would become lighter and the air warmer. He thought back to the previous night, to just a few hours ago when he had brought Sylvia home. His father had been waiting, pacing from the look of things, and his relief at seeing them was palpable.

"Thank God. It's almost midnight and I was…" Then Ben noticed that Sylvia was with Adam and that he held a large satchel. "What's going on? Has there been a problem with Sylvia's aunt?" Ben had searched Adam's face.

"No. Sylvia's my wife. We were married this evening by Reverend Cleary. Mrs. Cleary insisted on a small celebration afterwards—not much just…"

"Married? You're married?"

"Yes, and it's late. As you said, it's almost midnight. I'll answer any questions in the morning. Is Ezra all right?"

"He's fine—asleep. I need to know some things, Adam and they won't wait until the morning."

"Well, they're going to have to. Goodnight, Pa."

"Adam," Sylvia said, "I can find my way upstairs. Perhaps you should talk to your father."

"I will. In the morning. Let's go upstairs." And Adam, taking Sylvia's hand, took his young bride up the stairs to the darkness of his bedroom.

Adam filled with heat as he remembered their caresses, their ultimate joining and how he had repeated over and over that he loved her. He glanced at Sylvia again and fought with himself not to wake her. Adam sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He knew he wouldn't sleep and felt his stomach gnawing. They hadn't eaten since their picnic. Adam looked back at Sylvia and smiled; he'd have Hop Sing put her breakfast on a tray and he would bring it up to her and she wouldn't have to leave the bed. He slipped his feet into the leather slippers and pulled on his robe that hung on a bedpost. He opened the door and went downstairs to the kitchen.

The room was still warm from the stove. Adam flipped open the iron latch and put in some firewood and balled up the old newspapers they kept in the wood box and lit the stove. Just as he filled the coffeepot with water, Adam heard a noise behind him and turned; it was his father.

"Up early, aren't you, Pa?" Adam opened the coffee canister, spooned coffee beans into the grinder and turned the handle.

"I couldn't sleep. I thought I may as well get up." Ben pulled two cups and saucers out of the cupboard and sat down at the small kitchen table after he had placed a cup on a saucer in front of the chair Adam would use. He rubbed above his eyes; a small ache throbbed behind them and he knew it would probably develop into a headache.

Adam sat down to wait for the coffee and using two fingers, spun the cup on the saucer. "Well, I said I'd fill you in this morning—do you want to hear?"

"You took Sylvia out on a picnic and when you returned after being gone over eight hours, you two were married. Isn't that it?"

"Yes, that's basically it. We talked and walked the countryside until it was evening and then we decided to marry—that day."

"She's a lovely girl. I'm happy for you." Ben looked at Adam and Adam lifted his head, waiting for the question he knew was coming. "Where did you get a ring?"

"I didn't have one but I have the ring you bought my mother—the sapphire ring. You had always said that it was more valuable than the gold wedding band my mother wore. I gave it to Sylvia as a wedding ring."

"I gave it to you to give to the woman you loved. I suppose you held on to it long enough."

Adam smiled. "It fit Sylvia as if it was made for her."

"Well, that's good." Ben sighed. "You've thrown a lot at me in a short time; not only do I have a grandson but I have a daughter-in-law as well. What did Sylvia's aunt say? I'm assuming you told her."

"We told her. She wasn't pleased. She's not too fond of me, thinks I'm just using Sylvia and I can understand why she might think that but I'm not. Sylvia and I talked about Ezra and about his dubious paternity but she didn't care. She said she'd be glad to be his mother."

"You can't keep mulling it over, Adam—about whether or not Ezra is yours. You need to put all that out of your mind because you'll never know for certainty. Just start thinking of him as your son and call him that—your son."

Adam chuckled. "That's what Sylvia said, that I need to accept him as my son and I do. I decided yesterday that Ezra was my son although I would have liked to name him myself—I wouldn't have chosen Thomas as his middle name."

"That is unfortunate but it's a nice name." Ben smiled and Adam fetched the coffee pot from the stove top. He poured two steaming cups of coffee and father and son sat and drank their coffee. "You know what would hit the spot right now?"

"A splash of whiskey? A little early for that isn't it, Pa?"

"No. Some of Hop Sing's almond cookies." Ben rose and opened the top of the cookie jar. The sweet smell of vanilla and almond wafted out. Ben took the cookie jar to the table and sat it on the side. "A full jar. I guess Hop Sing wants to have enough ammunition with a child in the house. Ezra can gum some of these just fine. Have some." Ben tilted the jar and Adam reached in and took a handful of cookies.

He bit one and the sweetness exploded on his tongue. "These always remind me of my childhood and how Hop Sing would feed me these when I was upset or had to sit at the table and help Hoss with his school work. I would bribe Hoss with these."

Ben and Adam laughed and then continued to quietly talk about the ranch and about Sylvia, Ezra and Fiona staying at the Ponderosa until Adam built their house. And it was decided that they would. They would stay, all of them.