Chapter 24

It was almost ten at night and the guests were leaving.

"I looked for Sylvia," Mrs. Bryce said, "to thank her for the lovely time but I haven't see her all evening. I hope she's well. Tell her goodnight for me, will you, Adam?" Mrs. Bryce patted Adam on the arm and his mind raced—he realized that Sylvia had been absent while he was engrossed in discussing breeding stock and the introduction of the Brahman line of cattle by a breeder in South Carolina.

"Yes, I will." Adam said. He helped Mrs. Bryce into her buggy and her husband picked up the reins. Then he stepped back and along with the rest of his family, he waved goodbye to the departing carriage but his mind was on Sylvia.

Earlier that evening, he had looked around the room for her but noted she wasn't there. She had gone out, that he knew, but she must have come in and gone upstairs without his noticing. At one point, he was going to go and check on her; perhaps Ezra had taken ill from all the excitement or she herself felt ill but he had quickly become entangled in another conversation and never had. Still, it was rude of her to not have made her goodbyes before she went upstairs and he found himself annoyed with her lack of manners.

"That was sure a nice party," Hoss said, his hands in his pockets. He grinned widely. There had been good company and an abundance of food—just his type of party.

"Yeah," Joe added, "it was. Hey, Adam, why did Sylvia leave? She sick?"

"I don't know," Adam said. "I'm as interested as you are."

"Now, Adam, don't go flying off the handle," Ben cautioned. "Maybe Ezra became ill—or Fiona or Sylvia herself. I'm sure she had a good reason for leaving."

"I'm going to go see," Adam said and walked into the house and took the stairs two at a time. He pushed open the bedroom door but the room was dark, the bed turned down but undisturbed. Adam walked down the hall to the nursery and lightly knocked but there was no answer. He knocked louder and within a few moments, Fiona stood at the partially-opened door, peering out at him. It was obvious she had been sleeping.

"Mr. Cartwright, anything wrong?" She gripped her nightgown shut at her throat.

"Is Mrs. Cartwright here—in the nursery?"

"No, sir. I would think, seein' the hour that she's in bed?" Fiona's voice quavered with the lie.

"She's not." A panic rose in his chest. "When was the last you saw her?"

"Well, sir, I guess…" Fiona had to pause as the truth almost flew from between her lips but she thought again of Ezra who slept safely in his crib and of Mrs. Cartwright who was spoiled and prissy and so well-loved by the man at her door. "I saw the Missus was when she went outside to look for Ezra's lovey; it must have been left outside."

"Did she bring it to him?"

"No, sir."

"She never brought it in?"

"No, sir. Could be she hurt herself, perhaps."

"Perhaps, but…. I'll check outside. Go back to sleep."

"Can I do anything, sir?"

"Um…no, thank you. Just…I'm sure she's fine," Adam said but he didn't believe it.

Fiona closed the door and pressed her forehead against it. "Oh, my soul is damned and black as pitch," she said to herself. And then she considered if there was penance enough for what she had done and what the Holy Father would say at her next confession, that is if she ever overcame her shame enough to speak of her actions.

"Adam! Pa! Joe! Come look here." Hoss stood holding a lantern and looking down at the ground.

"What is it?" Adam asked, arriving first but his father and Joe were behind him. The all held their lanterns aloft and looked at the ground.

When Sylvia couldn't be found in the house, Adam had searched the barn but all the horses were still in their stalls; she hadn't taken one and gone anywhere. The thought had occurred to Adam that perhaps, for a reason he didn't know, Sylvia had left him. It was then, after calling out for Sylvia, that Ben and his brother came out and fetching lanterns, they searched the yard and were going to check the nearby timber line when Hoss called out.

"Look," Hoss said, holding up Ezra's stuffed toy. "Here's what Sylvia went out to find and look." Bending down, Hoss placed his lantern on the ground and pointed out the scuffed areas in the dirt. "Looks like there was some sort of scuffle here, two sets of men's boots and, well, it looks like these may be Sylvia's. They're small and with the heels and such…" Hoss stood up. He looked to his father and Joe who then looked at Adam who had crouched down to examine the footprints closer.

"Adam," Ben said, "It looks as if maybe, Sylvia…" He noticed how it appeared that Sylvia had been dragged backwards, the heels of her shoes having made deep marks with the heels as if she was off-balance.

"I know what it looks like, Pa. This isn't the first time someone's figured that a Cartwright might be worth something to the rest of us." Adam stood up. "I'm going to saddle my horse and go look for her."

"Now, Adam," Hoss said, "you ain't gonna find no trail this time of night. Hell, I'm the best tracker around—you always said I could track a ghost—but even I couldn't find a trail at night. Where the hell you gonna go? In what direction?"

"I can't just sit here? Who knows what's happening to her right now? What else am I supposed to do—lose my mind with worry?"

"No," Ben said. "You're supposed to be rational. If someone took Sylvia, then she's valuable to them; why else would they take her? We'll just have to wait until morning—at least until first light and then start to look. Joe can ride into town in the morning and tell Roy. He can get up a posse and they can look as well. Besides, we'll probably hear from the…from them."

"Yeah, Adam," Hoss said, "I swear I'll be ready to go at first light. We'll find 'er, all right."

"But I feel so….I'll lose my mind just waiting until morning. I have to look at least around the house some more. Maybe she's lying on the ground somewhere."

Joe, Hoss and Ben looked at one another. "Actually," Ben said, "that's a good idea. Four sides to the house, four if us." He looked at his sons. "I'll go west, you go east," he said to Joe, "north, Adam and Hoss, you take south of the house. Call out if you see anything. Anything."

Adam blew out a deep breath, his heart pounding; at least he was doing something. He would do anything rather than just sit and wait for morning.

There had been enough light from the window on the side of the house so that Sylvia didn't need a lantern to look for Ezra's "lovey." Sylvia expected the toy to be dirty and knew she would only have a chance to shake off any sand before she had to give it to the child so that he would sleep. She smiled thinking of how Ezra's cherubic face looked as he slept, holding his "lovey" to him, clutched under one arm. When she and Adam had taken him to Dr. Martin's for a check-up, Ezra held onto the toy with one hand while he grasped at Adam's shirtfront with the other as he sat in his father's lap. Ezra was leery of the man who was trying to check his ears and eyes and when Adam had to place the child on his back on the examining table, Ezra rebelled, trying mightily to sit up or turn over, even hitting the doctor with the stuffed toy.

Adam had laughed and Dr. Martin had remarked, "He's strong as a bull and just as stubborn! Certainly has a mind of his own." But Sylvia was anxious seeing Ezra upset. Nevertheless, the doctor had remarked that it was god for a child to have a "comfort' toy or a special blanket; it meant that a child could form emotional attachments and at that Sylvia was pleased. And when the examination was over and Ezra pronounced healthy—almost too robust making him a handful, Sylvia took him from Adam's arms and cooed comforting words.

On the dirt outside, Sylvia saw the toy and as she bent down to get it, she felt arms go about her waist and pull her up and back. She cried out in surprise and then a hand clapped over her mouth and although she struggled, tried to pull the hand away from her mouth, she then saw a man in front of her who grabbed her flailing legs. Sylvia managed to free one leg and kick him and the man cursed and then grabbed her leg again and the two carried her off as she struggled. They took her a distance from the house and into the trees and brush, branches scraping her as she resisted. She struggled the whole way, trying to twist out of their grasp.

"Think she'll move like that under a man?" Judd said smiling, slightly out of breath from trying to control her.

"She might just have to be ridden to find out—some broncs are harder to break than others from what little I've seen." Darby laughed. Sylvia noted that he had an Irish accent and she wondered if the two men were hands on the Ponderosa. "But then, bein' married to that Adam, well, I've seen him ride a horse hard—leave it sweatin' and heavin'. She probably thrives on it, would be my guess."

After a bit more distance, the man who had her legs, dropped them and fetching a rope from a horse tied to a low-lying branch, he tied Sylvia's ankles together. He looped the rope and then, after freeing her mouth, they tied her wrists behind her.

"Who are you?" Sylvia asked. She had never known fear before, not real fear but she was truly afraid. "What do you want with me?"

The Irishman spoke. "You're Mrs. Adam Cartwright and your rich-as-Croesus husband is goin' to pay sweetly to get you back. And if he don't, well, I've taken a fancy to you myself." He ran a hand across her cheek and then stepped back and looked at her while the other man held her up and turned her around so that he could look at her.

"You know what, Darby, I'm thinkin' that I hope Cartwright doesn't want her back—I'd like to warm my bed with this one. What a beauty." He stepped closer and Sylvia could smell stale whiskey and tobacco on his breath. He slipped his arms around her waist and as she turned her head to avoid his mouth, he held her chin and kissed her. She thought she would gag on the thickness of his tongue as he shoved it through her lips. Instead, she bit down and he made what passed as a scream and when she released his tongue and he jumped away, he was furious. "You damn bitch! Bite me, will you?" Then he slapped her and Sylvia saw lights explode before her eyes and her cheek stung. "I'll teach you…don't think I've lived this long and had no dealings with women. You need to learn your place." He raised his hand again and Sylvia flinched.

"Judd, she's no good to us broken and we've got to get back to the shack—just wait until later. We can both teach her a thing or two later—at our leisure. Nice and slow."

Judd reluctantly agreed and moved his tongue around in his mouth and then spat out bloody saliva. Sylvia was slung over a saddle with Judd mounting up and sitting behind her. She tried to lift her head as the blood rushing to her head made her dizzy. She heard footsteps and knew that the one called Darby was standing beside the horse on the other side. "You might just as well, relax—you ain't getting' away from us." Sylvia suddenly kicked out with her bound feet and was satisfied when she hit him and heard a "Umf…" Then she felt her skirt and slips pushed up and a hand heavily swat her linen-covered buttocks. She cried out in both surprise and pain at the sting. And then she heard his voice, Judd's voice.

"That would be the second lesson in your education. There'll be more to come, especially if you decide to be a bit rebellious." The men laughed. Then Judd kicked his horse and Sylvia soon felt sick from the jarring. And she was terrified of what was to come.

Despite their searching the grounds of the Ponderosa near the house, nothing more was found that night and finally, they headed in—except for Adam. He sat on the porch, often pacing, hoping that Sylvia would walk up, hoping that she had gone for a stroll and become lost earlier and would soon find her way home. He had seen the heel marks in the dirt, the footprints but he still hoped and every so often he walked around the house and searched more. Calling out into the darkness.

It was before sunrise, the sun just beginning to peek over the eastern horizon that Hoss came out with two mugs of hot, black coffee and handed Adam one.

"Thanks," Adam said. "I saddled the horses. I'm ready when you are."

"Just let me finish this cup. You best drink up too. Oh," Hoss said, reaching into his shirt's chest pocket, "here's a buttered biscuit." He offered the napkin-wrapped biscuit to Adam.

"You eat it," Adam said, sipping his coffee. "I'm not hungry."

Hoss bit into the biscuit. "You gonna wear them clothes?" Adam was still wearing his nicer clothes, a white shirt, and striped trousers from the day before although he had taken off the tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons of the shirt.

"Yeah, I'm gonna wear these clothes. All I need is my hat and gun."

Hoss stood and Adam sat on the front porch in silence while Adam willed the sun to rise faster. "What is…" Adam's eyes fell on a large folded piece of paper in the potted rose bush. He rose and picked it up and standing, unfolded it and read. "Goddamn it!" He said.

Hoss downed the last of his coffee and swallowed the last bite of biscuit and walked over. "What is it? Looks like a note."

"It is. It says that they have Sylvia—Mrs. Cartwright—and that they want ten thousand in small bills to have her returned unharmed. Damn it all—they don't say anything else—not where to deliver the money, just for us to wait to hear from them and not to look for her—at least I think it says that; they don't spell very well."

Joe stepped out on the porch pulling on his gloves. "I'm heading out to Virginia City to talk to Roy." Ben stepped out behind Joe.

"Take this note to Roy," Adam said. Joe stepped down and took the note to read.

"What's that?" Ben asked.

"A note from whoever has Sylvia," Joe said handing it to Ben.

"I told him to take it to Roy." Adam said. "And Joe, bring back ten thousand."

"Take it to Roy." Ben handed the note back to Joe who folded it smaller and put it in his pocket. "And stop by the bank and get the money in small bills—like they ask." Ben looked at Adam who was going inside. "Where did you find it?"

"It was here in in the roses. I've been sitting out here most of the night and never saw it. Never saw the goddamn thing."

"Well, I'm heading out." Joe went to the barn to saddle his horse.

Hoss stood with his hands on his hips. "Adam, you ready to go?"

"Let me get my gun and hat. Hoss, get the rifles. I'm going to kill those sons-of-a-bitch if I can."

"Wait," Ben said, "the note says not to look for her. If they see you skulking around wherever they are, they might hurt Sylvia."

"Then we'll just have to make sure they don't see us because I'm not sitting around on my ass and doing nothing. Kiss Ezra for me. And, Pa, keep him safe." Adam walked past his father and into the house.

Ben looked at Hoss; he was obviously worried.

"Don't worry too much, Pa. I'll do the trackin' and keep ahold of Adam; he won't do nothin' stupid. Besides, he ain't Joe."

"I'm depending on you," Ben said, pointing at his son.

Adam came back out buckling his gun belt. "Let's go."