Chapter 17

When night fell over the Ponderosa and Sylvia lay cradled within his arms, Adam was happiest. Their own house was almost finished, Sylvia's parents had already visited and left, he and Sylvia's Aunt Polly had managed to peacefully coexist for the brief time, and Fiona and Sylvia were getting along well despite a rocky beginning.

But Sylvia, once she was ensconced as the mistress of the house, wasn't certain how she should treat Fiona. Sylvia had never really assumed any authority over anyone before as the only hired help her family had ever had was their cook, Mrs. Dancey, who was a friendly, happy woman who sang as she hacked a chicken into many pieces. Mrs. Dancey reigned supreme in her kitchen kingdom, taking orders from no one. The only other person was Sam Beal, the man who took care of their two horses and who also maintained the buggy and any small repairs about the place. Since Sylvia felt inept in caring for a child, having never had any younger brothers or sisters or even really been around infants, Sylvia was relieved Fiona was there. Nevertheless, Sylvia felt a bit humiliated when she struggled even with changing the child.

"That's not how you do it," Fiona had said, taking over the changing of Ezra. Fiona accomplished it with ease. Sylvia also watched while Fiona had bathed him. "He doesn't like the water on his face and you must be careful not to get the soap in his eyes or mouth. But I sing to him and usually he's so taken by that, he's easier to bathe." Sylvia had stood by while Fiona sang a little ditty and Ezra grinned, splashing up water and laughing. Sylvia felt even worse—Fiona's voice was light and lilting and Sylvia knew she had no voice—she often just mouthed the words to a hymn if the range was too difficult for her.

A few nights after becoming Mrs. Cartwright, Sylvia had complained to Adam about how Fiona behaved in a superior manner toward her. Adam tried to brush off her complaints, pulling her down to him but she shrugged of his hands. He released her and she sat up beside him.

"I'm serious, Adam. Fiona doesn't seem to like me very much. It's a problem."

Adam chuckled. "I don't happen to think it is a problem. For one thing, as long as she likes Ezra—and she seems to love him—what does it matter? She isn't here to be your friend or anything else but to take care of him. That leaves you free to enjoy Ezra without having the trials. And just what does she do that makes you think she doesn't like you?" He reached up and pushed some loose hair off her face.

"I don't know…it's just her attitude."

"Her attitude." Adam made a dismissive sound. "Now you sound like my Pa when I was about thirteen; he disliked my attitude around here; especially toward Joe's mother. Fiona is young and all young people have "attitude' issues. Are you sure that it's not you who just doesn't like her?"

"Why wouldn't I like her?" Sylvia hadn't expected to be put on the defensive.

"For the reasons you just gave me. Well? Do you dislike her?"

"Well…what if I don't like her? She makes me feel stupid. She can do just about everything better than I can except needlework," Sylvia said sarcastically, "and heaven knows what a valuable talent being able to stitch a sampler that says 'God Bless Our Home' and such is but it doesn't help in raising a child. I don't even know how to darn but Fiona does; she even has a 'darning egg'—I had never even heard of one! After Ezra's in bed Fiona mends Hoss' socks. She fixed a tear in one of your father's shirts so well you'd never known it had been damaged and she sewed two buttons back on Joe's shirt just tonight. She even knows how to cook better than I do."

Adam hated to acknowledge it but Sylvia was correct; there weren't many domestic chores she could accomplish. A few weeks earlier, Hop Sing had to stay in Chinatown with his sick uncle for a few days and Fiona had taken over the cooking. The fare had been simple but filling and delicious. Sylvia attempted breakfast one morning but the toast was not only cold but burned to charcoal in spots, the scrambled eggs were like rubber and also cold and the coffee had been so strong and bitter that even Ben couldn't find anything kind to say about it. Adam smiled gently at his wife, reached up and pulled her down to him. "I know one thing you can do better than her, better than anyone I've ever known. Now, put all your troubles away for the night and show me you love me and I'll show you how much I adore you." He pulled her closer and then pulling Sylvia under him, he kissed her mouth. Sylvia found she no longer wanted to talk and tried desperately to think only of her husband—trying to shove thoughts about babies and food and all her shortcomings out of her mind and finally, as Adam's hand began to slide up under her gown, Sylvia thought of nothing but him.

But now, at almost a year old, Ezra was walking, albeit none too steadily and had to be constantly watched. Nevertheless, life had taken on a sense of calm as far as Adam was concerned. And Adam loved Sylvia more every day.

But it would have been impossible for Adam not to love her; Sylvia was kind to Fiona despite the girl's headstrong ways, supportive of Adam in his undertaking of building the house, a wonderful, loving mother to Ezra and although Ben intimidated her, she unknowingly won him over the first time she kissed him on the cheek goodnight. Hoss called Sylvia "Little Sis," and Joe and she often shared talks where she gave him advice from the female's point of view on matters of the heart. Joe was surprised that women were as controlling and plotting as she told him but he also told her that she only confirmed what he had always suspected. "And don't you dare tell Adam what I told you about women and their machinations," Sylvia had said to Joe. "I prefer he remain ignorant." Joe had giggled and Adam had glanced over at the two of them. He wasn't sure he liked their friendship as they were more like partners in crime than anything else. And looking at the two of them together, Adam realized that Joe and Sylvia were closer in age than she was to him and when he saw them talking and laughing, the realization of how tenderly young Sylvia was hit home and made him doubt his choice of wife; Adam loved her-almost desperately at moments-but Adam considered that their marriage may not have been in her best interest. At times she even looked unhappy although despite his asking her, she never confessed to being so.

When Sylvia's parents had arrived in Virginia City, Adam and Sylvia were there to meet them along with Aunt Polly who had walked to the depot from her house. Sylvia had written her parents about her marriage and told them of her new infant son and how happy she was. But before the letter had reached them, they had wired that they were coming to Nevada and would be staying with Polly.

"I'm certain Aunt Polly wired them," Sylvia had said one morning at breakfast as she read the telegram from her parents that Hoss had brought in from town.

"We can put them up here," Ben said. "Adam's room is empty now that you two've taken the larger one next to it."

"Well, Aunt Polly is my father's sister and they were always close; she often stayed with us in McKeesport and she and my mother were friends. Once, I don't know exactly what it was, but Aunt Polly showed up—she was so beautiful when she was younger—I still remember how she looked-and she stayed with us for almost a year. Something had happened, I don't know what, but I knew it was bad. I liked to imagine it was a broken love affair but I was just a girl. I really don't know. Anyway, I'm sure Aunt Polly wants them to stay with her to repay their hospitality although she actually already did by taking me in for so long."

There had been a sudden clattering in the kitchen and the sound of broken china. Hop Sing's voice and Fiona's rose in argumentation. Hop Sing, as he always did when he was upset, chastised in his native Cantonese. "And don't talk' to me in no foreign tongue," Fiona said sharply and Ezra began to wail.

Sylvia pushed her chair back. "I'll go see what the problem is."

Ben rose from his chair. "Now, Sylvia, a word to the wise. Fiona and Hop Sing are going to have to work things out between them. I have a feeling that this power struggle may take a while to be resolved."

"That may be…" Sylvia was never sure what to call her father-in-law so she avoided calling him anything despite the fact that Adam encouraged her to call him father, and then grinning, he suggested she call him Pa. Nevertheless, she wasn't comfortable enough yet. "But I don't want Ezra caught in the middle. They both seem to argue over what to do for him—what's the right thing to do-all the time. Now if you'll excuse me."

Sylvia walked in the kitchen and Hop Sing was gesticulating with a knife in his hand and Fiona's finger with which she was threatening him seemed just as deadly. Ezra who had been confined to his high chair that was pushed up to the table, was crying, cereal smeared on his face, on the napkin that served as a bib and on the table top. A shattered bowl lay in pieces on the floor. Sylvia pulled the chair away slightly from the table and then, speaking calmly to Ezra, Sylvia picked him up, pulling away the napkin and using the clean side to wipe the cereal grains off his face. Ezra stopped crying, sniffling slightly and then smiling, patted her cheeks leaving cereal residue.

"Oh, Miss," Fiona said, turning from Hop Sing and putting out her arms. "I'll take him."

"That's all right," Sylvia said. "You and Hop Sing continue your war. I'll wash him and change him—he's wet." She swept out of the kitchen, through the dining area and up the stairs, kissing Ezra's head covered with the downy black curls. She had grown to love him and now she ached for another child—a child of hers and Adam's.

Once she had taken Ezra to the nursery, she had to wrestle him to lie still while she changed his diaper; he always twisted and tried to turn to his belly so that he could crawl off the bed.

"Ezra," she said as she turned him over again. He grunted in frustration and she couldn't help but laugh but the sound caused Ezra to stop and look up at her and he smiled. "Oh, you are a handsome one and you'll be a heart-breaker like your father. He is one, you know. My fear is that he'll break my heart by falling in love with another woman sometime, someone who's more experienced—not only with men but with darling babies like yourself."

Ezra laughed again as he reached up for her nose and tried to grasp it while Sylvia finally pushed the pin through the fabric to secure the diaper. Then she pulled up the pair of water-proof pants that kept any wetness from soaking through. Sylvia had ordered a few pairs from a mail-order catalogue, convincing Adam that it would make life easier for all despite his protestations that they seemed as if they would be uncomfortable. No longer would someone who happened to be holding the child, suddenly find their lap warm and wet and she had added, perhaps he would be more inclined to hold Ezra if he knew his lap or shirt would remain dry. Adam had looked at her sharply but she had said no more and she knew that her criticism had hit home.

In her opinion, Adam needed to spend more time with Ezra by himself, not with either her or Fiona along. He always protested that he was too busy and at the end of a long day, the last thing he wanted to do was take care of a baby. That was why he had hired Fiona, he stated. Sylvia never argued, just said what she thought and Adam was left unsatisfied; he wanted an argument and to know he had won it but Sylvia would never give him one. But one night after Sylvia had heard Ezra crying, she had brought him back to their bed. Fiona was walking the boy who was refusing to sleep and seemed to be crying more in an effort to keep himself awake more than anything else.

"Let me take him from you, Fiona. You get some well-deserved sleep. He has been fussy lately-teething, I'm sure." And for once, Fiona willingly handed Ezra over to Sylvia who took him into the bed with her and Adam.

Adam woke when he heard Sylvia talking to Ezra who wanted to crawl around the bed like a puppy. "What's this?" Adam sat up and Ezra crawled to him and tried to stand by holding onto his father's shoulders. "So you're damned bound and determined that no one will sleep tonight, is that it, son?" Adam grabbed Ezra and lifted him and then sat the child on top of the covers.

"He's kept Fiona up the past few nights so I thought we should let her sleep and handle him ourselves."

"So we're going to be up all night as well? I have to head out early for Genoa tomorrow. I need my sleep."

Sylvia stretched and covering her mouth, she yawned. "Then put him to sleep."

Adam glanced over at his wife then back to his child. "Boy," he said talking to Ezra, "how'd you like a shot of rum in warm milk?"

Sylvia sat up, alarmed. "Adam—you wouldn't!"

Adam laughed deeply. "It would be my first choice for myself. Besides, he may develop a taste-demand a rum toddy every night when he learns to talk. Say 'rum toddy'." Sylvia glowered at him and Adam chuckled at her discomfort. He placed Ezra on the bed and pulled on his robe, took up the child again and sat in an upholstered rocking chair that was in the corner of the large bedroom. It had been the Ponderosa's best guest room, used only by the Senator of Nevada or other visiting dignitaries or prestigious friends but now Adam and Sylvia took it as their room.

Sylvia watched as Adam held Ezra who tried his best to escape with small grunts and other noises of protestation such as his uttering of his first word learned, "No." Then finally, he calmed down in his fathers' arms as they began to rock. Adam hummed. Ezra looked up at the large man who held him and who began to sing a soft song—a lullaby of sorts:

"My Lulu hugged and kissed me,

She wrung my hand and cried,

She said I was the sweetest thing

That ever lived or died.

My Lulu's tall and slender,

My Lulu gal's tall and slim;

But the only thing that satisfies her

Is a good big drink of gin.

My Lulu gal's a daisy,

She wears a big white hat;

I bet your life when I'm in town

The dudes all hit the flat.

I ain't goin' to work on the railroad,

I ain't goin' to lie in jail'

But I'm going down to Cheyenne town

To live with my Lulu gal…

I seen my Lulu in the springtime,

I seen her in the fall;

She wrote me a letter in the winter time,

Says, 'Good-bye, honey,' that's all."

"Well, that's a lovely song to sing a child," Sylvia said with disapproval. She had turned on her side to watch them.

"He's asleep isn't he? Besides it's never too early for him to learn about women." Adam stood up and carried Ezra over to the bed.

"Put him here—beside me," Sylvia said, moving over and Adam came around to her side of the bed and placed the sleeping child next to her. She put her arms around him and his small, dark head rested on her shoulder as he lay within her arm. "He's getting so big." Sylvia looked up at Adam. "Wouldn't it be funny if he grew up as big as Hoss? He does have your family's looks and he may very well…" Sylvia noticed, even in the darkness of the room, that Adam was staring at her with an odd look. "You said that he may be yours—your flesh and blood and the more I see of him, the more I watch how he behaves, how he's as hardheaded and determined as you are, the more certain I am that he's yours."

Adam said nothing, just went around to the other side of the bed and pulled off his robe and slid under the covers. He then leaned over both Sylvia and Ezra, kissing the boy on his forehead and then he bent down and kissed Sylvia. "I hope you're right. But it doesn't matter anymore but…I still hope you're right." He rolled over and adjusted the covers again.

"If I had a son—if when you married me I had a son—a son with, say, Patrick, would you have accepted him as yours?" Adam said nothing but Sylvia knew she had gotten to him with the question. "I think you would have accepted him even though he would have been no blood of yours." There was only silence. Adam had once told her he would never lie to her so to be careful what she asked him. Since he hadn't answered her, Sylvia knew that he hadn't yet an answer for her and a few moments later, she heard Adam's steady breathing which indicated he was asleep. But it was a long while before she slept.