Chapter 18

When Sylvia's parents came to visit, Sylvia was pleased to see that despite her mother's best efforts, she fell in love with Ezra. He was a beautiful, endearing child and although her father was more stand-offish when it came to any of the Cartwrights, Sylvia felt it was more due to Adam already having a child out of wedlock than anything else—that and the fact that Adam had married his daughter and only child.

Sylvia had convinced them to come to dinner along with Aunt Polly; Mr. Matthews was curt yet polite. Mrs. Matthews blushed slightly when Ben took her hand and welcomed her to the Ponderosa.

"My goodness," Mrs. Matthews said, "It's like a party with all the people here." Hoss and Joe wore white shirts and ties and were on their best manners. Adam had wanted to wear an open-necked shirt. Sylvia asked him to please put on a jacket and tie but Adam protested that he hated the things and it was only a casual dinner with family—besides, would her mother be swayed by a tie? "She might be," Sylvia had replied. "I do want her to like you. My father as well. He might resent the fact that you didn't make an effort to impress him."

Adam had stood and looked at Sylvia as she attempted to hook a string of small pearls about her neck. The strand dropped from one hand and she sighed in frustration. She caught the end of the strand again and placed it about her neck. Adam came up behind her. "Let me," he said and took the strand from her and slipped the fishhook clasp shut. "There. Now the pearls are truly beautiful adorning you." He kissed the slope of her right shoulder and then gently turned her to face him. "All right, I'll wear the damn tie and jacket. Just shows how much I love you." And Sylvia couldn't help but smile. Each little victory over his stubbornness was a reason for celebration as far as she was concerned.

The dinner had gone reasonably well. Fiona had fed Ezra early and so Sylvia took her mother and aunt upstairs to the nursery. Both women fawned over the beautiful boy although Aunt Polly was a bit more reserved. Ezra babbled and grabbed at the necklaces and reached for the ear bobs. Fiona stood by, her brow furrowed. "It's time the child should be in bed," she had said. "It won't do for him to be so excited; he hates to go down to sleep as it is." With authority, Fiona took Ezra from the lap of Mrs. Matthews.

"Oh, but, can't I hold him a bit longer. It's been so long since I've held a baby and he's so darling."

"It is late, mother, for a child," Sylvia said. She walked over to Ezra as he stood in his crib where Fiona had put him. She held Ezra's face and kissed his soft pink cheek. "Goodnight, my love," Sylvia whispered to him.

As the three women walked down the stairs, Mrs. Matthews remarked that Fiona was bossy. "You're the lady of the house, Sylvia. Who's she to give orders to you about when the child should be put down? You need to tell her—not her tell you."

"Mother, let things be. Fiona is good to Ezra and loves him and she knows more about babies and their schedules than I do. I would be lost without her. And she's not as bossy as you are! And she's right—Ezra hates to give in to sleep and she's with him more than I am and knows the ways to get him to settle in."

"Well, what's to keep you from just firing her and taking over it all yourself? Ezra's not a newborn."

Aunt Polly who was two steps behind them spoke up. "It's him." Sylvia knew that she met Adam. "He doesn't want the child and is happy to turn him over to someone else. No one wants a reminder constantly around of an unfortunate liaison."

Sylvia was about to defend Adam but they were now within hearing of the rest of the party and Adam was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for her. But what her Aunt Polly had said stuck in her mind and when all was quiet, the words came back and rolled around in her mind; there had been some truth to it, not necessarily applied to Adam but to her. She had always tried to be honest with herself but she realized that Ezra, as much as she loved the child—and she knew she did—he was the concrete proof that Adam had lain with another woman. Had Adam smiled at Ezra's mother the way he smiled at her, played under the covers with Ann as Adam did with her, teasing her with his mouth and hands? But what was most painful to her was that Adam had shared that intimate moment of pure bliss with Ann and Ezra was proof. Sylvia would try to banish the thoughts, forcing herself to think of something else—anything else but they were always there—always.

The dinner was a success though in that it brought the families together. Mr. Matthews and Ben Cartwright eventually found common ground and both talked mining although Ben talked silver mining and Mr. Matthews talked coal mining but the common thread was the treasures that lay hidden in the bowels of the earth and the efforts man made to extract them and make a profit.

Sylvia had been nervous through the whole meal, eating little. Aunt Polly had been reserved and Adam didn't make any effort to win her over which upset Sylvia.

"Adam, I've told Aunt Polly so many wonderful things about you." Sylvia had said.

"Just shows that you shouldn't lie."

"That's not funny. Couldn't you have made some effort?"

"I refuse to grovel before her," Adam had said in response to Sylvia. She fumed at him as they readied for bed.

"Well it wouldn't have hurt! I really wanted her to like you. And as for my mother…"

"I was nice to your mother. What are you so unhappy about? Everything went fine."

"You…you are the most obtuse man! You don't see or understand anything!" Sylvia had said in frustration. She stepped out of her slip and then, pausing, she threw it at Adam's head.

He caught it and grinning, moved to her and slipped his arms around her, pulling her to him. "Now, Mrs. Cartwright, there's a price to pay for your insolence—I am your lord and master, something which you seem to forget. You're gettin' a bit too saucy, woman." And with that, he swept her up and unceremoniously dropped her on the bed. "Someone needs to put you in your place and I do believe that pleasure falls to me." And Sylvia shuddered with the knowledge of what was to come.

"Well, you know how your father is," Sylvia's mother said to her one afternoon as they sat on her Aunt's porch. Adam had brought her to town to visit her parents while he ran errands for the ranch. "And to be honest, Sylvia, I don't much approve of your marrying a man who is a proven fornicator."

"Mother, I'm sure all men are fornicators if they're given the opportunity—Adam just happened to be undeniably caught. Actually, he could have denied Ezra is his and no one could have argued since Ezra's mother is dead. Adam could easily have left Ezra to those in Placerville and just thrown money at the problem and walked away."

"That may be," Mrs. Matthews said as the warm breeze filled with the scent of sage and pine drifted across them, lifting the small curls stylishly left about her temples, "but there must be gossip in town, especially with the Cartwrights being such a prominent family. I don't like you involved in gossip."

"Mother, Adam and I were in love and had talked marriage, albeit vaguely, way before he even knew about Ezra's existence." She reached out and took her mother's hand in both of hers. "We fell in love quite a while ago."

"Nevertheless, Polly has told me some things about Adam—well, that you married him quickly and without any family around—not yours or his. I expected to find you large with child when I arrived. I'm pleased that you're not."

Sylvia let go of her mother's hand and looked back at the street. There wasn't much traffic at this end of town since there were no businesses, just small houses with well-kept yards full of spring flowers. In the yard of a few houses, a clothesline stood on the side and clothes flapped lazily in the breeze.

"You notice, Sylvia," her mother said, "people only hang out their clean laundry—not their dirty, stained laundry. You need to be careful. Perhaps you, Adam and Ezra should move to McKeesport. Your father can help him to be hired on in the mining offices."

"I don't think so, Mother. Adam would never do that, go from here to a job sitting in an office. And I don't think I'd want him to."

"We don't always get what we want. For example, I wanted you happily married to a wonderful man…"

Sylvia cut off her mother and sat on the edge of the porch swing. "Mother, if that's what you wanted, then you already have it. I am married to a wonderful man and most of the time I am happy." Sylvia stood up and smoothed her skirt. "I'm going to set the table for our lunch. Aunt Polly is making a chicken casserole, my favorite. Maybe Adam will return in time to join us." Sylvia forced a smile and then with a slight flick of her skirts went into the house, leaving her mother shaking her head on the porch. That her daughter was smitten was obvious and that Adam was good to her was also obvious but Polly had told her about the gossip among the quilter's group and the Ladies Church Guild. That Sylvia should in any way be related to a scandal upset her and it upset Polly as well who believed she saw hidden smirks on everyone's face and subtle meaning whenever anyone asked her how she was. Were they asking how she was dealing with her beloved niece who had married the eldest Cartwright, the one who fathered a child out of wedlock with a bar maid? Were they asking if her heart was broken since Adam Cartwright had more than likely just wanted a mother for his child and had chosen the young and impressionable Sylvia Matthews as his bride?

Polly's heart broke for her niece who she saw as foolish, too foolish to see the duplicity behind the handsome face of Adam Cartwright or at least what she believed was duplicity. So now that her brother and his wife were there, she had discussed moving to McKeesport with them and her brother and sister-in-law had agreed; Polly could close up her house and return with them in two days. They would tell Sylvia at lunch.

"Did you have a nice time?" Adam asked as he drove the buggy. It was late afternoon and they had left the city limits by a good five miles. Sylvia had been quiet so far on the drive and that worried Adam; he was afraid she had had a disagreement with her mother and that perhaps he had been the cause and she didn't want to tell him.

"My Aunt is returning to McKeesport with my parents. She's closing up the house tomorrow. They're leaving Friday."

Adam wasn't sorry that her Aunt Polly was leaving with her parents but he was sorry that it upset Sylvia. "I'm sorry, Sylvia." He wanted to touch her or kiss her but somehow he knew that would be the wrong thing to do at the moment. "Would you like to have them over for dinner one more time before they leave? Maybe tomorrow."

Sylvia looked out at the surroundings, the trees and brush, the lush spring grass. Some birds were still chirping and she liked to catch sight of the rabbits or a deer in the pine forest. Adam had once given her a lesson as to which pines were Ponderosa pines, Jeffrey pines and Lodgepole pines by the number of needles and the shape of the pinecones. He also taught her about the Douglas fir, also called a false hemlock, he had added as they walked hand in hand.

"Like what Socrates drank?" she had asked him at the time as she gazed at the tree. They were walking in an area on the west end of the Ponderosa.

Adam had chuckled. "No, not quite."

"He did drink hemlock, didn't he?" Sylvia wondered if she had perhaps confused Socrates with Plutarch or some other ancient personage.

"Yes, he drank hemlock but it was a plant, not a hemlock tree."

"Well, I was right about his dying from drinking hemlock, wasn't I?"

"Yes, you were. Now this," Adam leaned down and picked up a plant that had long leaves that were covered by fuzzy hairs. "These are called Mule's Ears…"

"You know, Adam, sometimes you annoy me."

He stopped examining the plant and looked at her, confused. "Oh, do I? How is that?"

"It's just that you act as if you're so smart and think you know everything and that the rest of us are stupid. I mean about that hemlock remark—you laughed because I didn't know the difference."

"And that made you feel stupid?"

"Yes. Yes, it did." Sylvia jutted her chin in the air. Often she did feel young and sophomoric. Adam was college-educated and had been to New York and New Orleans, San Francisco and many other big cities. He had even been to Europe and seen some of the shows in Paris including one where women danced in a scandalous manner.

"Then I'm sorry for that. I didn't mean to make you feel stupid and I don't think I know everything. Socrates said that 'not knowing anything is the sweetest life,' but he also said, 'always desire to learn something useful.' Contradicts himself, doesn't he. But then he also supposedly said, 'I know I am intelligent because I know that I know nothing.' "

Sylvia narrowed her eyes; he seemed to be smirking a bit. "So are you implying that I must be a genius?"

And Adam roared with laughter and pulled her to him. "And that is why I love you," he said as he held her face in his hands and kissed her cheeks and her forehead before he kissed her mouth. "You are the cleverest woman I know—and the most beautiful."

No matter how upset she became with Adam, all he ever had to do was smile and apologize and kiss her and all was forgiven.

"So, Sylvia? Would you like to have them over again for dinner?" Adam was concerned; his wife was quiet only when she was upset or tired. "There's still time before they leave."

No," she said softly. "They wouldn't have time. They told me at lunch—right in the middle of the chicken casserole." She turned to look at him. "They invited us to go live in McKeesport. My parents both think we should. My father said that he could secure you a job, a well-paying job in one of the offices. We could take Ezra and Fiona if she wants to come with us and start life anew—free of scandal. They believe that I'm considered a fool by the whole of Virginia City for allowing you to take advantage of me." Sylvia wiped away an escaped tear.

"I see," he said quietly. Adam snapped the reins on the horse's back to have it pick up the pace; he looked straight ahead. He wanted to make Sylvia happy but the idea of working in an office all day didn't sit well with him. "Is that what you want? To go back to McKeesport."

"I…I don't know, Adam. Ezra's too young to have scandal touch him but he won't always be. He'll have to know the truth but it will be up to you to tell him before some nasty child in the schoolyard does or after."

Adam took in a deep breath. "I've thought of that—many times. I've also thought of you. I don't give a goddamn what people think of me but now I have you and Ezra to think of and I care about that—I care what people think or might say about the two of you—about your being hurt by a chance comment."

"Adam, are you saying you want to go to McKeesport?" Sylvia was surprised. She had told Adam about what her parents and aunt proposed because she couldn't keep it from him—it screamed to get out—but that didn't mean it was her sentiment.

"I don't know, Sylvia. I just don't know. I have to think before I answer that."

Sylvia slid closer to Adam and slipped her arm through his as they rode along in silence. And as they rode, she silently identified the various trees as they passed, inhaling the fresh, sweet, vanilla odor of the barks of the trees. So much better than the soot and dirt of McKeesport.