Chapter 19

Adam had taken Sylvia into town to see her parents and her aunt off. He stood aside allowing his wife to say her goodbyes without his intrusion but he could still hear what they said, how his wife wept as she hugged and kissed her parents goodbye. Sylvia's mother didn't want to let her go, kept holding on to her.

"Come visit—maybe for Christmas," Mrs. Matthews said, holding her daughter by the upper arms.

"Yes, you come see us, Princess," Sylvia's father said kissing her on the cheek. He had already shook Adam's hand farewell. He handed the last of the luggage up to the driver. "Hate this damn, outmoded method of transportation," he mumbled to himself.

"Now come on, Mary," Mr. Matthews said as he took his wife's arm. "We need to board now or that driver will leave without us. He's already taken the horses in hand."

Sylvia stepped back as her parents boarded the stage. Aunt Polly stood beside her niece and wished Sylvia well and told her that it would be nice if the whole family was together again. Polly held no hope for it though because when again offered the reference for a job in McKeesport by Mr. Matthews, Adam had graciously declined but made it clear that he was not unappreciative.

"Aunt Polly, I have half my family here now that I'm married."

"Perhaps so," Polly said as she glanced at Adam who leaned against the corner of the building, waiting, "but things might change. Remember that we love you." She and Sylvia exchanged hugs and kisses on the cheek and then with her brother's assistance, Polly managed to heft her portly frame into the stage.

Sylvia stood on the platform and Adam walked over and slipped his arm protectively around her waist. As the stage pulled away, Sylvia waved at her mother who leaned partway out the window. Sylvia clasped her hand over her mouth to stifle her sobs—her family was leaving and she knew it would be years before she would see them again, if she ever would. Adam gave a small wave as well and they stood and watched until the stagecoach was out of sight and all that was left was the dust from it settling in the street.

"Are you going to be all right?" Adam quietly asked her. "We had talked about going to McKeesport and…"

Sylvia looked up at him. "I know. I'll be fine." She swallowed her sadness and smiled bravely. "Now take me to lunch, husband, as you promised." Sylvia linked her arm in Adam's and they crossed the street to have lunch at the Imperial House.

Hoss drove Fiona to Carson City. She wanted to visit the Catholic Church there as she needed to go to confession, she said. Hoss was a bit confused, asking her if she had committed a crime and if she had, shouldn't she be confessing to the sheriff?

"No," she had told him, "not a crime that man would recognize but God holds us accountable for crimes of the spirit and the heart and I need to confess them and do penance so that I can live with a clean conscience and an unsullied soul." Hoss agreed as he could always find a way to pass the time.

"I hope it's not in drinkin' and carousin' or I'll have another sin on my head," Fiona said.

"You? Why should anythin' I do be put on you?" Hoss was truly taken aback.

"Because I would be the one having led you to the doors of temptation."

Hoss later asked Adam to explain "all that confessin' and stuff. Why's she got to do that, 'specially since she don't do nothin' wrong, leastways that I can see."

"It's part of the religious tenets, a principle of belief," Adam explained. "Sins don't have to be obvious nor do they have to be committed—just thoughts are enough to drive a person to confession."

"Wait. You tellin' me that even if I have a thought that's wrong, that I'm sinnin'?"

"Yes, the thought's as bad as the deed. If you lust in your heart, well, you may as well have jumped on board the woman and ridden her."

His brow furrowed, Hoss considered what Adam had said while Adam watched, amused.

"Don't seem quite right to me," Hoss said, still frowning. "I mean I don't see what a man's secret thoughts are a sin—it ain't as if he's robbed a bank or killed someone. 'Sides, a man can't always control what he thinks."

"Nope," Adam said, "he sure can't. That's why if you follow the principle, you confess to a priest. He forgives you, gives you a penance, you perform it, and then the sins are no longer on your head."

"But…well, say I went to confession, got my penance and soon as I leave the church, I see a pretty woman and I think about what she might look like nekkid. That's another sin. Do I have to turn around and go back and confess that? I mean, I'd probably never make it home iffen I had to do that."

Adam chuckled. "No, you'd save all those sins up until the next time you confess."

"I don't know, Adam. I don't know 'bout all that." Hoss jammed his hands in his pockets. "Fiona, she's such a bitty thing that I can't imagine what kind of sin she's done."

"Well, just take her whenever she wants to go. For Fiona, not confessing on a regular basis is a sin. Now if we're through with your catechism…"

"My what? My catty what?"

"Your catechism, your religious training."

"Oh, is that what it's called?"

"Yes. Now let me get back to my book. I haven't had a chance to read in over a week. This is, or was, the first time I've managed to catch a minute alone." Adam shifted in his chair and reopened his book; he had kept his place with his thumb having closed it when Hoss interrupted him. Without looking up, Adam added, "Thanks for taking Fiona to Carson City. If you hadn't agreed to it, I would have had to carve out the time."

"Yeah, no problem." Hoss left Adam alone but it was too late; Adam couldn't concentrate and kept thinking about sin. Finally he closed the book and looked at the dying embers in the fireplace. I could use a bit of confession myself—and hope I could be forgiven. But my sins are so deep…'I could accuse me of such things that it were better my mother had not borne me.' But I've also thought that about Ezra—if it were better that he had never been born? May God forgive me for my thoughts. Adam stood up and left the book on the chair seat. He wanted his wife, to burrow against her and feel her smooth skin and her cool hands stroke his brow. "Oh, Sylvia," he whispered to himself and then went upstairs determined that tomorrow he would be a better man. He would find his forgiveness in her arms and her soft, warm kisses.

Fiona had earlier asked the Pastor Cleary if he could hear her confession but he said that he wasn't able to do that but that he would be glad to counsel her.

"It's not counseling I need, Pastor, it's forgiveness. Can you do that? Can you intervene on my behalf, act as my Father Confessor and forgive me as you did that one time before? I'll gladly do any penance for the sake of my immortal soul."

"I'm sorry, Fiona. I realized after I heard your confession that it was wrong of me—according to our beliefs, you can speak to God yourself and ask him for forgiveness."

Fiona sighed. She had been troubled by her conflicted feelings over Mr. and Mrs. Cartwright. She needed to confess.

"Fiona," Pastor Cleary said, "there's a Catholic Church in Carson City, St. Teresa of Avila. Perhaps one of the Cartwrights will drive you over. It takes a few hours but I think it will be worth it. As your employers they need to see that your spiritual needs are fulfilled as well as what you need for subsistence."

"Thank you, Pastor. I'll ask Mr. Hoss. He brought me in with him and Joseph. I'm to buy a few of my necessaries."

Pastor Cleary walked her to the door of his parsonage office. "Now my wife has made some tea and she has some sweet crackers and she's made me promise to send you to her. She's quite fond of you, you know." He looked at the young girl who smiled sweetly. Fiona Flanagan was a stubborn young girl who had specific ideas about everything but she was a darling child. "Oh, Fiona," he said as she stepped from his office into the parlor, "how are things working out at the Ponderosa?"

"They are working out smoothly. It's a fine family I work for and the wee one is a smart, loving child. I thank you for speaking so well of me that I secured the position."

"My pleasure, Fiona. May God bless you." The pastor closed the door and went back to his sermon for that Sunday. He looked at what he had written and then balled up the paper and dropped it in the wastebasket. He stared at the blank paper and began to write, indicating which words were to be emphasized. "WE are all SINNERS in the eyes of GOD and yet, how many times do we DROP to our knees and BEG Him to FORGIVE us? Do we PILE SIN after SIN on our heads before…" He had reached his stride now and had Fiona and her quest for forgiveness to inspire him.

"Well," Hoss said as he pulled up the buckboard, "that's the church." He pushed the brake and jumped down to help Fiona. He had told her how pretty she looked in her prim, high-necked dress and small straw hat and Fiona had blushed and thanked him.

Hoss placed her on the dirt road. "Thank you, Mr. Hoss."

"Now, Fiona," Hoss said, "this ain't Virginia City. This place is bigger and you need to be careful. This here mission ain't in the best end of town so how long you think you'll be? I don't want you goin' nowhere else."

"I think I should be only about fifteen minutes—no more." She adjusted her hat and her gloves.

"Well then I'll just wait out here for you. They got a real nice confectionary shop on main street here—all fancy and everything and they got a soda bar and the best butterscotch I done ever tasted. And their caramel apples—mmmm-mmmm. I'll treat you." Hoss had been hoping to have enough time to have a beer or two but decided he'd be just as happy with butterscotch or a caramel apple.

"Oh, Mr. Hoss, that would be fine but I've got my own money."

"Now, Fiona," Hoss said putting his hands to his chest, "you let me be the gentleman. I don't hardly get a chance no more since I'm always ridin' herd on them dad-blamed new ranch hands who don't know their asses from….excuse my language, Miss Fiona; sometimes I forget how to treat a lady and I certainly forget how to dad-blamed talk around one—oh, excuse me again, if you would?" Fiona smiled; she was rarely called a lady and rarely had a man stammer foolishly in her presence and it made her bristle with female pride.

"Well, I would consider it an honor," she said, and still smiling, Fiona went through the large double doors of the church.

The inside of the church was open and dark with a few candles burning on the altar. There were statues of the Virgin Mary and elaborately painted crosses on the wall and a statue of St. Francis stood in one corner. They must be Franciscan Monks. Above the altar was a hewn cross that over the years and with much polishing glowed like a jewel and the altar itself was covered with an embroidered cloth. Two terracotta candelabras were on the altar, the light from the flames of the tapers reflected in the cross's polished wood. A woman with a lace shawl over her bowed head kneeled in one of the pews, praying. By her clothes, Fiona decided she was Mexican. Ben Cartwright had told her that the reason there was a Catholic Church in Carson City was because of the high Mexican population.

Fiona saw the confessional and went in and could see the shape of the priest through the carved wooden screen. She heard the close of a book and decided that he had been passing the time by reading the Bible.

"Welcome my child," a man's warm voice said. There was a slight French accent to his voice.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been more days than I know since my last confession." Fiona saw the Father make the sign of the cross and say a small prayer and she did as well.

"Well, it's good that you came today. Have you kept up with your rosary?"

"Yes, Father."

"That is good. Now, please tell me what sins lie heavy on your head for one so young."

"Well, Father….I suffer from pride. I was proud to be called a lady just outside a moment ago and I am proud that my charge—I'm a hired nurse to an infant—well, I'm proud that he loves me and looks to me to comfort him over the woman who is his father's wife. I know that's wrong." Fiona waited but there was only silence.

"I also covet the woman's beauty and often wish that I could change places with her and…" Fiona stopped. She knew she should confess her feelings to the priest for there was no other way to achieve forgiveness but she was embarrassed; she had never even said the words aloud to herself. "I covet the Mister. He's a handsome strong man, albeit a sinner. I find…that I have carnal thoughts about him. His child, the one I care for, is out of wedlock and I fear for his soul but that doesn't stop me from desiring him. I know that he would never love me—after all—to him I'm a foolish, young girl and he does adore the Missus, but he…when I see him I wonder what it would be like to have him kiss me and take me to his bed as he does his wife." Fiona felt her suppressed emotions come to the front. "Can I be forgiven for my thoughts of lust and covetousness, Father? I have tried to overcome them but it seems that every day my feeling for the Mister becomes stronger and I fancy that now that I've turned 18 I will be of age to…to…"

"To what, my child? There is no specific age that frees us of the consequences of our sins."

"Yes, Father, I know that. And, Father, I am also guilt of anger—whenever the Missus dismisses me and tends the child herself, I become angry. Ezra, the babe, is not her son and I know he's not mine either but I loved him first and I think I love him more. She angers me when she holds him and when the babe smiles at her and such…oh, Father, I hate her and hope something bad happens to her like a plague or a horse kicking her in the head or such so that she'll be out of the way." Fiona sighed, "I don't really want those things to happen—I just wish she were gone. Oh, Father, I need forgiveness and to never feel these urges for the man again. Please, can you help me? Can you forgive me?"

"My child, forgiveness is given freely due to your contriteness. But what concerns me, child, is that your feelings toward this man will not end and that it will be a constant struggle for you." He saw Fiona drop her head. He knew by her voice that she was just a young girl but he also remembered what it had been like when he was young and hot blood had run through his veins. Even now, at his age, he still had to confess lascivious thoughts to his Father Confessor and when he traveled to hear the confession of the nuns in a nearby convent, they often surprised him with their lustful thought of concupiscence. "You can find forgiveness today but what will happen after you leave this church and find yourself back in the situation? Will you no longer feel the same feelings that now torment you? Of course not. Sin is difficult to overcome and the only person to have done so is Our Mother in Heaven as she was born without original sin unlike the rest of all humanity. Consider Our Mother's purity as you say the stations of the rosary and whenever you feel any carnal thoughts, repeat your rosary ten times as you kneel in submission –you should attempt—not that any of us could ever accomplish it-to emulate The Virgin Mary as she embodies the humility, purity of thought as well as soul, the perfection all humanity seeks in this life.

"But the best road through life is the one that leads us out of temptation and you perhaps should take it but to remind yourself of the goodness of the Rose of God, repeat ten 'Hail Marys' this evening and for nine days hence." There was silence and the priest continued. "Bow your head child and repeat this prayer with me."

Fiona bowed her head and placed her hands in prayer and repeated each line after the priest, "Oh, God, I am very sorry I have sinned against you because you are so good. With your help, I will try not to sin again. Amen."

Fiona waited and then she heard, "I absolve you of your sins."

"Thank you, Father." Fiona stood and stepped out of the confessional. A Mexican man all in white clothes and holding his hat in his hand was waiting a respectful distance from the confessional. Fiona nodded when he bowed his head in acknowledgement. I suppose sinners come from all types of people and God loves us all. Fiona suddenly realized that she was again guilty of judging others and stepped into a pew where she dropped to her knees and she prayed for forgiveness. She then rose and stepped outside in the bright sunshine. It hurt her eyes and she blinked until she could focus and there was Hoss Cartwright standing by the buckboard waiting for her.

"How about a strawberry phosphate?" Hoss asked as he helped Fiona up on the seat.

"I've never had one before," Fiona said, straightening her skirt to make room for Hoss.

"Well, you're in for a treat then." He snapped the reins on the horses' backs and turned the buckboard back to the center of town