Chapter Two

"Please say grace, Elias," the woman quietly said. Adam bowed his head along with the other three.

"For what we are about to receive, may we truly be grateful. Amen."

Adam mumbled "amen" along with them. The word seemed alien in a manner since it had been so long since he had prayed; it seemed a lifetime ago and looking at the young woman in the lamplight, he suddenly felt old but she still made his loins ache; that was another thing he hadn't done in a long time, had a woman. She glanced over at him and he realized that he had been staring.

"Please, Mr. Cartwright, start eating. It may not be the best meal you've ever eaten but it's wholesome food if I say so myself, not that I flatter myself on my cooking. The carrots and the onions…"

"Wife," Elias said, "must you talk so much? Mr. Cartwright didn't travel all this way just to hear you blather about vegetables and stew."

"It's all right—I rather enjoy it," Adam said. The woman looked down and put her hands in her lap, obviously embarrassed. "I've been riding alone for so long that I enjoy hearing a woman talk. I've grown tired of my own voice."

"Rachel will talk on about foolish things if I allow it. Next thing you know she'll be palaverin' on about woman problems—God knows she's got enough of those."

Rachel pushed back her chair and stood up. "Excuse me," she said, her head down. Adam rose from his chair and watched her walk away down a narrow hall. He heard a door close and then sat back down.

"Eat, Mr. Cartwright," Elias said. "Rachel's a temperamental sort. I've learned to just ignore her spells of pique."

Adam said nothing, just began to eat as the boy was; he had never paused lifting his spoon to his mouth as if Elias carping at Rachel was a normal thing. There was also sliced brown bread on the table and Adam broke off pieces and dipped them in the steamy broth. As he ate, he noticed the boy watching him; he would glance up every once in a while and the boy would drop his eyes.

"Son," Elias said, "go tell Rachel to get us more stew."

The boy climbed down from his chair and padded down the hall. Adam heard the boy knock on a door and then he heard muffled voices. The boy came back to the table and scooted his chair back in to finish wiping his bowl with bread. Adam watched the woman go into the kitchen and come back with a heavy, cast-iron pot, a towel wrapped around the handle. She carried it awkwardly with both hands, a ladle tucked in her waistband.

Adam rose from his seat. "Here, Ma'am, let me take that from you. Looks heavy. Won't you join us again?"

"It's all right," she said. "I'm used to work. Besides, you're a guest."

"And you're the lady of the house. Please. Let me help." And she shyly allowed Adam to take the heavy pot from her which he placed in the middle of the table. Then he pulled out her chair and Rachel sat down after pulling the ladle from her waist and placing it beside the pot.

"Thank you, Mr. Cartwright," she said. "Please help yourself to more stew."

"Thank you," Adam said. "Would you like some to warm up your serving?"

Rachel said no, that she didn't and so Adam helped himself to more stew. He offered the ladle to Elias who took the proffered ladle and scooped himself some stew.

"So," Elias said, his mouth full of food, "you said that your home is Nevada?"

Adam nodded as he continued to eat. "Mighty fine stew, ma'am." She smiled at him.

"I tell you what," Elias said. "I do need a hand around here. When I get my herd back from that thievin' Jeb Truck, I'll need to keep them on my side of the property line. He claims that any cattle that wander on his property are his and I suspect his men of bein' the ones to have dragged down my lines and herded my cattle on to his property. I tried to get a few head back a few months ago and that goddamn Truck shot me in the high back—said I was trespassing and the sheriff backed 'im up. I tried to explain about gettin' my cattle back but that goddamn sheriff said it didn't matter—I was on Truck's land. It's only now that I can get back to work—that's why everything is in such a state of disrepair. If you're willin' to take a chance on bein' shot, I'll keep you on. There's a small room off the kitchen where you can sleep if you don't mind sharing it with potatoes and stores of carrots and such. You can eat your meals with us."

Adam pushed his empty bowl away from him. "I accept and thank you."

The two men stood and Elias reached across the table and he and Adam shook hands. "My name's Elias Fell and that's my wife Rachel and my boy, Sonny."

Both Rachel and Sonny looked at Adam and Rachel dropped her eyes and then rose and proceeded to clear the table.

"Sonny, go wash up and then go to bed," Rachel said.

"Why do I hav'ta, Rachel? It's still early—ain't even all the way dark yet?"

"Sonny," Elias said sharply, "do as you're told. Don't make her tell you twice or I'll make sure you hear it real good that time."

"It's all right, Elias," Rachel said. "He'll go. It's just like a boy though to want to stay up later, especially when we have company."

Elias said nothing and soon he and Adam were alone at the table. A few minutes later, Rachel came back with two cups and saucers and a coffee pot and poured both men coffee.

"Sorry there's no dessert, Mr. Cartwright. I didn't have time. I have some rhubarb and tomorrow I'll make a pie. You like rhubarb?"

"Yes, ma'am, I do. But that was a delicious meal and I ate so much, I wouldn't have had room for dessert. Now I have a brother who could gulp down that whole pot of stew, eat that whole stack of bread and still have room for dessert!" Adam grinned and Rachel lightly laughed. Adam considered that she had beautiful eyes—such a vivid blue and she looked so pure and delicate. He couldn't see her and Elias tussling in bed; she seemed more like a fairy child, someone from an elfin grot in one of the stories he had read as a child. She didn't belong here in such crude surroundings. Rachel seemed more spirit than flesh.

Rachel smiled wanly. "You must miss your family."

Elias' impatience with her was obvious to Adam. "Woman, mind your own business and get back in the kitchen. Let us men talk."

Adam pressed his lips together. He wanted to intervene, to tell Elias to shut his goddamn mouth and leave Rachel be but it wasn't his business. Instead, after she had left, he asked, "Have you two been married long?"

"No, only a little over a year now. After my wife died, well, I needed someone to take care of my son and the house. I only got the one boy left. All my other children died—two when they were just little ones. My first boy lived to see sixteen years and then he was killed by one of Truck's hands in a fight in town—witnesses swore my boy drew first but I don't believe it. Anyway, Rachel answered my ad in the paper for help keeping house and watching the boy and then, well, having her around I figured I better marry her before I gave in to lust. But she isn't one to warm a man's bed—she makes it seem a chore, just something to be endured. But she's a good cook and is raising Sonny just fine and he's fond of her and she, him. I'm not complaining—I just wish she was warmer. And it would be nice if she was prettier and a bit more buxom, if you know what I mean. I like a set of hips to hold onto."

Silence fell between the men as they sipped their coffee, so Adam just clasped his cup in his hands and waited to hear the parameters of his duties on the ranch; he knew that he was lucky to have found work. Kansas had been having a dry winter and as he had ridden over the cold, barren plain, he had seen bones and carcasses of cattle. He had stopped at a few farms and had been fortunate to receive a slice of meat and bread every so often but most people had little enough for themselves and didn't have much to spare. And Adam knew what he must look like. People in Missouri and Kansas had seen enough Civil War veterans travel through their area—Adam had just taken longer than most to get there.