Chapter 27

Adam stepped into the hall and gently closed the bedroom door. Now that Sylvia was safely home, safe in their bed, he felt fatigue weigh him down like a lead cloak. The image came to him from his reading of The Divine Comedy. While still an impressionable boy, Adam remembered specifically and in great detail the punishments meted out in The Inferno. The hypocrites in Hell had to constantly walk under the weight of their lead cloaks and that weight made their spiritual progress impossible. In a manner, Adam felt like a hypocrite. After all, he had married Sylvia, taken vows with her but didn't value her as he should have and he was determined to make that change—and he would act his heart, not his mind. And as for Ezra, he adored the boy, was proud of him but always had doubts about his parentage and would entertain those doubts when he would lie sleeplessly in bed, his mind churning as he stared at the ceiling in the darkness. That would change—it had to or he felt he would go mad.

Adam knew he was overtired and that everything seemed out of proportion; he needed to eat and then he would sleep in the chair that he had pulled next to the bed. He would be close to Sylvia no matter what, even if he had to curl up on the rug like a dog. He turned and was startled to see Fiona waiting quietly in front of the nursery door.

"Fiona, you startled me." He smiled weakly.

"I'm sorry, sir. How is the Missus?"

"Asleep now. She'll be fine—thank you for helping clean her up while Dr. Martin checked her out. It helps to have another woman around at times like this." Adam walked closer to her. "I haven't seen Ezra since yesterday. Is he asleep?"

"Yes, sir."

Adam noticed that Fiona was uncomfortable; she even seemed a bit off-center. "I promise I won't wake him up." Adam stepped into the nursery. The fire was burning low and a lamp was on a short wick, casting shadows around them. Adam walked over to the crib and was amazed at how much Ezra seemed to grow in just one day. He smiled down at the child grasping his "lovey" to himself as he slept. Adam caressed the child's head, feeling the softness of his curls. Then Adam turned to leave and saw Fiona standing there again, her hands clasped in front of her. "Something wrong, Fiona?"

"Yes, sir. I…perhaps we should step out in the hall."

Adam and Fiona stepped out and Fiona closed the nursery door.

"It's not Ezra, is it? He's not ill or such?"

"No, sir." She paused and then as if unable to prevent herself, she spoke again. "Your father hasn't told you yet?"

"Told me what?"

Fiona looked down and then looked up again. She saw the heaviness in Adam's face, his eyes puffy. He had been through a terrible 24 hours and it had taken its toll on him. His shoulders sagged a bit and his face was darkened by his beard since he hadn't shaved in so long. The white dress shirt he had worn last night and was still wearing had smudges of dirt marring its purity and was heavily wrinkled. Blood from his wife was a dark stain on the thighs of his black striped trousers where she had sat as they rode. He looked like a man who had been to hell and had barely managed to claw his way back out into life.

"I…I told your father that I know who took your wife."

"What?" It seemed as though he had been struck and he had to clear his head. "Who? Who took her?" He grabbed Fiona by the shoulders as if he was going to shake it out of her should she decide to remain quiet.

"It was my brother, Darby, and another ranch hand—Judd. That's all I know of the other man, that he was called Judd. A large, evil-looking cur who worked at the Ponderosa."

"How do you know they were the ones? Be certain."

"Because….because they told me they were going to. The day before yesterday, they came and told me—they wanted the babe, Ezra, but I wouldn't let them—not the babe. I couldn't bear the thought. It had to be either him or the Missus they said or…things would be worse." She dropped her head. Fiona couldn't bear to see his eyes.

"You knew? You knew and said nothing?" He grasped her tighter and she winced.

Fiona tried to pull away from the vise-like grip he had on her. "I couldn't tell. They said they'd take the child, like I told you. I couldn't chance they'd hurt the wee one. I had to keep quiet. They threatened to snatch him away one day if I said anything." She began to cry and it quickly turned to sobbing. "And Darby, my brother, he's not a bad man, it's just that he's had to struggle for everything so that the thought of easy money—well, I suppose when Judd…"

Adam released her, pushed her away from him. He turned away and then swung around to face the sobbing girl. Fury rose inside him but he spoke in a calm, even voice albeit low and threatening. "If you were a man," he said, "I'd smash your face and then snap your neck. Be gone from this house in the morning and stay out of my sight until then."

Adam stalked past her, using all his will-power to control his anger. He wanted to rage at Fiona, to punch her with his fists and feel her face break under his knuckles but he wouldn't, couldn't. Adam knew that being as exhausted as he was, everything seemed worse; he needed to think, to remove himself from Fiona's presence. She was a mere slip of a girl and being so young, she couldn't be blamed for making poor decisions—he knew that. And yet he wanted to hurt her for what Sylvia had suffered. But perhaps, Adam considered, part or maybe even all of what had happened had been his fault and the words from the prayer of the Confiteor came to him, "through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault." Had he been a better husband, he wondered, had he been a better father, not been so concerned with matters of the Ponderosa, perhaps none of this would have happened. He would prove himself, redeem himself in Sylvia's eyes. Things would change. He walked slowly down the stairs and was a bit surprised to see that all looked normal while with him, nothing was normal.

"Pa." Adam stood in the great room and looked at his father sitting at the table with Paul Martin. Hop Sing was hovering about, happy to see someone eating the food he had been all day preparing.

Joe was eating as well and looked up at Adam. "I took care of your horse, Adam. He was almost…." Joe's voice dropped away as Adam was paying no attention to him.

Paul turned around, fork in midair, and Ben rose from his chair. "Yes, Adam." Ben had never feared any of his sons before but this time, as he rose to face Adam, he felt a small thrill of fear. Adam seemed different—almost a stranger.

"Why didn't you tell me? I've been home now for over two hours. I sat with Sylvia until Paul arrived. I sat with her and watched her writhe in agony, beg me to help her and you never told me you knew who was responsible, that Fiona had told you who did it?" He practically shook with fury, his voice like rough gravel.

"I thought that I should wait until we knew how Sylvia was. It made no sense to upset you twice-over…"

"Made no sense! I'll tell you what makes no sense!" Adam approached but Ben did his best to stay calm. "For Sylvia to be stolen away, to be treated the way she was and left to die in a line shack."

"Adam," Paul said, pushing his chair back, "I don't think Sylvia would have died; she would have stopped bleeding; there wasn't any internal damage."

"I don't give a goddamn," Adam said. "I could have found the men by now—and I will. I'll find them. I need something to eat, a little sleep and then I'm going after them." Adam roughly pulled out a chair at the table and sat down.

"Hop Sing make plate for Mistah Adam." Hop Sing rushed to the kitchen. He no longer desired to stay and watch the doctor enjoy his food. As Hop Sing piled the mashed potatoes, gravy, roast and biscuits on a large plate, Hop Sing shook his head. Adam had always been a puzzle to him, quiet with deep feelings. Hop Sing had seen men like Adam before—they were the most dangerous as they never gave any indication what was coming. In Chinatown, he had seen a man assassinated once, well, not seen the assassination as no one had noticed. The killer had drawn no attention to himself or to the act and the back room where the gambling was taking place was full of smoke and noise, men calling out encouragement to the dice or grumbling in disappointment at the throw. All anyone saw was the man who dropped after his intestines spilled out with a slippery sound that resembled that of the birth of a child. And then the man was dead, bubbly red foam on his lips. No one had seen or even noticed the assassin who had obviously brushed up against him and slid the knife up his gut. But had they looked closer or been paying more attention, they would have seen the victim's eyes widen and his mouth open soundlessly. Hop Sing always felt that Adam would be the type to kill a man that way—stealthily and with finality. Adam Cartwright was a dangerous man to cross.

"I should be going," Paul said, picking up his hat from the credenza by the front door.

Hop Sing, holding Adam's plate protested. "You not finish yet," Hop Sing said. "Have whole ham in oven still." Hop Sing placed the plate before Adam who picked up his fork and began to eat although he barely tasted the food. He just wanted to end the pangs in his stomach.

Paul smiled graciously. "It was delicious, Hop Sing, but I have a long way back and someone might be waiting in my office for my help. Thank you for a delicious meal."

"I'll walk you out, Paul." Ben said.

"Me too," Joe said. He didn't want to sit at the table with Adam anymore.

Once outside in the yard, Joe brought around Paul's horse and held the reins while Paul mounted. Ben handed up his medical bag and Paul hooked the handle on the saddle horn.

"Ben, it wouldn't be a bad idea to have Adam take some laudanum as well. He needs a good night's sleep and I doubt he'll get it."

"Good advice, Paul, but he won't take it—not willingly and I don't think I could slip him any. Besides, he'd rather suffer than take laudanum. He doesn't even like to drink too much; it makes him feel that he's not in control. But do me a favor; let Roy Coffee know who took Sylvia. There'll be no stopping Adam from going after them and he's not so much in the mind-set of an eye for an eye—more like both eyes, both hands and both feet for an eye."

"All right, Ben. I'll stop by the jail." He looked at Joe. "Take it easy, Joe. You may have to chase Adam over the whole Nevada territory to stop him from doing something he'll later regret."

Joe threw his hands up in surrender. "I'm never been able to stop Adam from doing anything but maybe Hoss and me both…"

Paul chuckled. "I'll be back tomorrow to see Mrs. Cartwright." He touched his hat brim and then rode away.

Ben put an arm around Joe's shoulders. "You brother scares me, Joe. I never know what he'll do."

"What about Fiona, Pa?"

"I guess I'll give her two weeks' pay and take her to town tomorrow. It's a shame you know but Adam will never forgive her for what she didn't do. She does love Ezra, though."

"I think she loves Adam too."

Ben gave Joe a wan smile. "That won't do her any good except cause her pain. Sometimes I think that a person loves Adam at their own risk. Let's go in and wait for Hoss." Ben and Joe walked together back to the house and Ben pulled Joe a bit closer.