Chapter Eight
Adam woke alone. He had to pause to remember if Rachel had really come to him or if he had only dreamed it; so many of his dreams seemed real that he often woke up, shattered from dreaming about the battlefield and sometimes the dying soldier was Joe or Hoss and the grief he felt was so acute that he woke up almost sobbing. But Rachel lying beneath him and encouraging his kisses had been real, her hands on his shoulders and the all sounds she made—all of it had been real. He was sure of that. And as he lay on his pallet in the back room, he heard her in the kitchen moving about her day which started before dawn. So Adam rose and dressed in his clean clothes—they smelled like the air-and taking the loaned clothes with him, he went into the kitchen. Rachel looked to him and then dropped her gaze.
"Good morning, Mr. Cartwright. I hope you slept well." She went back to making biscuits, cutting out each biscuit with an empty tin can and then placing it on the cooking sheet.
Adam moved closer to her. He wanted her to acknowledge their night, the way their bodies had joined but he wouldn't push her; Adam could understand her embarrassment and perhaps her shame. He knew that he should feel shame as well and he was slightly surprised to realize that he didn't. A few years ago, he knew he would have but then a few years ago he would have refused her advances. "I have the clothes you loaned me." Adam held them out.
"Just place them there, on the counter. I'll put them in the wash." She never stopped cutting out the biscuit dough and didn't look at him.
"Rachel, about last night…" Adam wanted to say something to her and reached out to touch her hair but Elias came into the kitchen. His face was puffy from too much hard cider and he pulled out one of the chairs, the legs scraping on the floor, and sat down heavily. Rachel wiped her hands on her apron and poured him a mug of coffee and placed it before him.
"Goddamn, Rachel," he said, picking up some thread, "One of these days a thread is going to end up in my food. Can't you keep this place clean?" Elias dropped the thread on the floor and Rachel bent down and picked it up.
"It's just thread, Elias. I worked late last night and must not have seen it. It wouldn't kill you if it accidently worked its way into your food."
"Now you listen to me," Elias said rising from his chair.
Adam felt his stomach knot and his fists clenched. "I think we should post that letter to the geologist today. The sooner you have a geological survey, the better off you are. Since that oil seep is so close to Truck's property, well, he might try to move his fence lines over so you need to recheck the maps of your property that are on file."
"The what?" Elias turned his attention to Adam and sat back down. Adam relaxed. His distraction had worked and Rachel went back to frying salt pork to make the gravy for the biscuits that she had slid into the oven.
"Well, I know you didn't ask me but my family owns some property in Nevada and occasionally, someone will claim land that's ours, encroach on it. We have to bring the land abstracts into court to prove where the property lines are; it's the only recourse—the only legal one, that is. If we load the barbed wire spools on the buckboard now, we can just go to repairing line when we get back and that spot with the seep, I think you should repair that area first. Maybe even stick up a no trespass sign."
"You seem to know a lot about land—buying and selling. How'd you get all that knowledge?"
Adam listened to the salt pork popping and sizzling in the pan while Rachel mixed milk and flour together for the gravy base. From the corner of his eye, Adam could tell that she was watching him and Elias.
"My family owns a few acres in Nevada. That's how I know. As I was growing up, I'd go with my father to town every time he bought another few acres. That's how I learned."
"Your family wealthy?"
"They do all right." Adam heard the sound of the liquid mixture being poured into the frying pan while Rachel stirred. She then opened the oven to check on the biscuits and Adam felt the wave of heat.
"Seems to me that your family would send you money to get home instead of you havin' to work your way home."
"I guess they would if I asked them but I haven't. I left on my own and I'll get home on my own terms. Now what do you say about checking the legal papers in town?"
Sonny came into the kitchen and sat down. He looked as if his head would drop, he was so sleepy.
"I say that it's a good idea. Rachel, get me some more coffee."
"It's right here on the stove," Rachel said as she stirred the gravy.
"I'll get it," Adam said. "Could use a cup myself." Adam rose and picked up the coffee pot. He smiled at her and Rachel grinned back shyly.
"Thank you," she said. And Adam knew that the "thank you" meant more than just an acknowledgement of his pouring the coffee.
Adam and Elias worked righting the poles in the fence and then wrapping the barbed wire around them and hammering in nails to hold the wire in place. Elias had loaned him a pair of work gloves and Adam wondered if they had been his son's.
The search for the original papers to the land had gone well although it had taken the clerk a few minutes to find them; the originals had been filed in the county seat. Elias had pointed out the landmarks to Adam that bordered his property and had emphasized that Jeb Truck damn well knew exactly where the lines were. Jeb Truck was simply a thieving pirate.
The sweat ran down Adam's face as he struggled to hold the wire tightly. The day was warm and had he been at home on the Ponderosa, he would have unbuckled his holster and placed in it the buckboard but here he felt safer keeping it on. Since Adam faced Truck's property he first saw the riders in the distance, dust rising behind them, and despite the heat, he felt a sudden chill; there was going to be trouble.
"Elias, riders coming." Adam reached down and unhooked the trigger loop on his holster.
Elias stood up. He had been hammering in the nail to hold the lower tier of barbed wire in place. "Truck's men-think that's Truck with them." Elias hurried to the buckboard parked a few yards away and retrieved his rifle, jacking it in preparation of danger. Then he raised it slightly; he didn't want to seem as if he was going to shoot and give the men a reason to fire at him first. Adam watched and waited and finally the three men rode up and stayed a respectful four feet from the fence.
"Morning, Fell," an older man, about fifty and wearing an odd hat that looked more like a fedora than the standard cowboy headwear, said. He rode a black horse that seemed edgy and kept trying to step away.
"Mornin', Truck. What the hell do you want?" Elias looked from one man to the other.
"Just checking out the fence line. I was going to send some men out to repair it but looks like you got here first." Jeb Truck looked at Adam examining him. "Who are you?"
"None of your goddamn business," Adam evenly answered. He kept an even stare with the man. A smile curled Truck's lips.
"Well, I figure you're either a saddle tramp or a gun hawk. But I just wanted to know what name to put on your grave in case we find we have to bury you." Adam smiled at that one. "Just curious, Fell, what are you fencing in? You thinking about starting a herd again? Seems like your cattle always wander to greener pastures so this is just a futile effort. That's why I never bought this piece years ago—it's a worthless piece."
"I know it's not, Truck," Elias answered and Adam inwardly groaned; Elias was going to reveal his knowledge of the oil on his land. To Adam's way of thinking, that would let Truck know he wasn't ever going to sell the land. Now Truck would have to resort to more "persuasive" means if he wanted the property. "I know that I have oil on my land and I also know that's more than likely why you want it. I wrote for a geologist to come out here and tell me where he believes there's even more oil. If things work out as I think they will, why I'll be as rich as you—maybe even richer and can buy your land. Now I got nothing else to say to you so move on."
"I'm on my own property and I think I'll have my two men here stay and enjoy the day. Your hard work may inspire them." Jeb Truck tipped his hat and rode away. His two men dismounted and sat with their backs against a scrawny tree, rolling themselves cigarettes while their horses grazed nearby.
Elias kept his rifle by him while he and Adam continued with the repairs, the men watching, and after about forty more minutes, Elias suggested they leave the rest until tomorrow. Adam agreed and they loaded up the buckboard while Jeb Truck's men watched. Adam knew that tomorrow, the length of line they had repaired would be down, the posts toppled over and the wire snipped but he said nothing to Elias and they rode on to the small ranch house.