Chapter Eleven

"Rachel," Elias yelled, "we're ready to go. Get out here now or we'll leave you." Elias wasn't a patient man and he hated waiting for anything or anyone and felt that Rachel often dawdled just to get under his skin.

"You know women," Adam said hoping to soothe matters, "they're always a bit late but they're usually worth waiting for." He leaned against the buckboard. Adam had carried out the covered Dutch oven filled with fresh water in which the five cleaned and plucked chickens had been placed. He had tied it down in the back of the buckboard so it wouldn't tip over on the ride.

"No woman's worth waiting this long for." But no sooner had Elias spoken than Rachel came out of the house. She had chosen one of her most flattering dresses, a dimity print, cream with blue stripes, and she wore a perky straw bonnet which tied at the side of her face with a blue bow. Adam noticed the locket tied around her neck with a section of his gift of the blue ribbon and thought Rachel looked lovely. He smiled at her when she glanced at him seeking his approval. "What are you looking so nice for?" Elias asked. "You're all gussied up."

"Thank you for thinking I look nice, Elias," Rachel said in an offhand manner. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to look decent. You wouldn't want to be embarrassed by me, would you, Elias? Have people think you couldn't afford for your wife to dress properly when she goes into town?"

Elias said nothing else but he clouded up; Rachel seemed a bit more cocky than usual and he didn't care for it. He was sure that Adam Cartwright and his attentions had something to do with the change in her. His presence seemed to have upset the balance of power in his household.

Adam suppressed a grin as Rachel turned her smile on him. He helped Rachel up to the seat and then climbed up himself and took up the reins while Elias joined them on the other side of Rachel. She adjusted her skirts to keep Elias from sitting on the fabric and wrinkling it. Adam snapped the reins and the horses started out toward town.

"What's this?" Elias asked as he reached for Rachel's neck. She put her hand protectively over the locket.

"It's mine. It was my grandmother's."

"Looks to be gold. Is it?"

"I…I suppose so. Why?"

"You mean we could've sold it to get money for supplies and you never told me?"

Rachel, her hand still covering the locket, spoke tremulously. "It was my grandmother's—it's all I have of my family. I don't want to sell it. Besides, I'm sure it's not worth much."

"If it's gold, it's worth something. I'm going to remember you have it and the next time we're in trouble, I'm selling it."

Adam stared ahead, determined not to intervene. He kept reminding himself that it wasn't his business—none of it was and then told himself that as soon as he settled the account at the store and the business of the lawyer was resolved, he would move on. He couldn't afford to become involved in the Fell's lives—and he had to remain distanced from Rachel; she was a married woman. Yes, he told himself, I'll leave. As soon as the money comes and I've paid them what I feel I owe them, I'll leave. And he snapped the reins again for the horses to move faster while Rachel sat stiffly beside him.

The day had been tiring. Adam had first accompanied Rachel to sell her chickens to the small restaurant where she sold her eggs. He had carried the large pan for her while Elias impatiently waited in the buckboard. "Don't be long," he had called after them. He yearned to have some money in his pocket and then to get to the bank and the lawyer's and he needed Adam for both and for that, he hated Adam Cartwright who had made himself too valuable to him—to them. Sonny enjoyed listening to Adam who could wend his way through stories of his adventures and Sonny would listen, rapt, open-mouthed. Rachel even teased Sonny once by telling him to shut his mouth or the flies would get in. And then there was Rachel. She hadn't fooled Elias. He suspected that Rachel had dressed for Adam Cartwright, not for the townspeople and not for him.

The owner of the restaurant, Mrs. Cowan, came out the alley door where Rachel had always gone with her egg basket.

Mrs. Cowan reached in the pan and picked out one of the chickens. With the other hand, she pressed the flesh on the thigh and the breast. "Well, they could be a little fatter. What about the eggs? You know how these cowboys love ham and eggs for breakfast."

"I need to keep the eggs for the time," Rachel said.

Mrs. Cowan looked at Adam and wondered who the dark-haired saddle-tramp was; he looked slightly dangerous to her. "Okay. I guess I can use these to make a batch of chicken and dumplings tonight. Cowboys like their pastry smothered in gravy."

Rachel sighed in relief and looked to Adam who barely nodded his approval.

"You got five here, so I'll give you $1.25 for all of them—25 cents a chicken."

Adam spoke up, his deep voice exuding authority. "These are plump, juicy chickens and they've already been plucked and cleaned. Mrs. Fell's saved you quite a bit of work. Throw in another 50 cents for her labor and it's a deal."

Rachel looked down. She had been willing to take 25 cents a chicken and she didn't know what to do if Mrs. Cowan refused. Nevertheless, she stayed silent.

Mrs. Cowan, a large woman with an unfortunate mustache, stared at the two people and again at the chickens. She wanted to refuse as she didn't want to give the impression that she would bargain but she also wanted the chickens. She knew how far she could stretch them in the creamy stew; she could sell a bowl of inexpensive dough, gravy and a few bits of chicken for 50 cents and make a good profit.

"Okay. A dollar seventy-five for all of them. Carry them in and put them on the table inside."

"Fine," Adam said. Mrs. Cowan opened the door and Adam placed the chickens inside. A man was frying up slices of ham and rolled-out biscuit dough was on a counter top. It was still breakfast time.

"What are those," he said to Adam.

"Five cleaned chickens. I need the pan back. Where shall I put them?"

The man looked around. "Put them in that bowl there."

Adam saw a large bowl that was more than likely used to mix huge batches of dough since there was still residue inside but Adam did as he was told, fishing them out with a wooden spoon which he poked up the opening he had made to clean them. Then, nodding to the man, he took the pan outside where Mrs. Cowan was counting out the money into Rachel's palm. Then she slipped the rest of the money back into her apron pocket while Rachel thanked her.

"You bring me eggs next time and I'll give you a good price. I need them for baking too," Mrs. Cowan said. "But leave him at home." She glanced at Adam as he dumped the water from the Dutch oven onto the dust.

As they walked away, Rachel grinned. "Here," she said handing Adam fifty cents. "You earned it."

"No, it's yours. Keep it."

Rachel stopped. "You helped pluck the chickens, you cleaned them and you bargained for a higher price—I never would have had the courage. Now take this fifty cents and send the telegram and keep anything left. How were you going to pay for it if not from the money for the chickens anyway? You spent all your money on Sonny and me. Now take it."

Adam had never taken money from a woman before and he was loathe to take any now. Elias had said the night before that he would pay for the telegram, had taken a small jar from the mantle and emptied the contents. It came to 73 cents. Elias said that it was all the coin he had but he would pay for the telegram with it. Since the money from the chickens and the aprons would go into Elias' pocket anyway, Adam saw the rationale of taking the money from Rachel.

"All right," he said and Rachel put the coins in his hand. "Now you go send your telegram and I'll get my aprons from the buckboard and see Mr. Sweet. And I might do a bit of horse-trading myself." Rachel smiled and led the way and Adam, watching her walk with a bit more lightness in her step, shook his head and smiled. She had recovered from Elias' threat of selling her locket, possibly due to the money from selling the chickens. Then he followed her swishing skirts out to where Elias was waiting.

They had taken Rachel home and Elias was pleased. After all, he had $3.25 in his pocket; the $1.25 for the chickens and Mr. Sweet had paid two dollars for the aprons. Rachel urged them to hurry home; Sonny was expected soon and Rachel wanted to be there. "The boy shouldn't come home to an empty house," Rachel had said. The Bowens, a family on a nearby farm always took Sonny with their own children to and from school and he was due home soon, the walk from the Bowen's taking about twenty minutes. So after they left Rachel, Adam and Elias headed out to the fence they had repaired the day before and just as Adam had thought, it was down.

"They must have pulled it down as soon as we finished." Adam felt the weariness of frustration come upon him. "I feel like Sisyphus."

"Who?" Elias asked.

"Oh, he was a man whose punishment in hell was to keep pushing a heavy boulder up a steep hill and then as soon as he reached the top, the boulder would roll down again—a never ending chore. And that's what this is like. If we fix it, they'll tear it down again—over and over. It's futile but I think we should repair it again-send a message to Truck."

"Not today, Adam. After arguing with that lawyer, I'm tuckered. Besides, it's late. It'll take us a good half hour to get back home."

Adam admitted that he was tired as well. It had been difficult to convince the lawyer, Mr. Grayson Griffin, Esq. to be Fell's lawyer.

"You don't look like you have two pennies to rub together," Griffin had said to Elias. Adam had yet to say anything; he had prepped Elias on what to say and Adam was impressed with how Elias remembered the key points: Griffin would document what the geologist wrote about his findings. Griffin would also draw up papers to keep Truck and his men from encroaching on Fell's property with legal ramifications as the consequence and Griffin would see that the papers were served on Jeb Truck. But Griffin balked. "Why should I get mixed up in this? Jeb Truck is a rich man and powerful too. He has quite a few men working for him and it looks as if all you have working for you is this scarecrow here."

Then Adam spoke and Griffin seemed surprised that Adam could speak knowledgeably—could speak at all. "Mr. Fell has oil on his property; I can vouch for that as there is an obvious seep hole. If he doesn't have the means to raise the oil, then he'll sell the drilling rights to one of the big companies back east. Men are going oil crazy. Have you any idea how much money oil is worth and that's not even considering how valuable it will be in the future? Now how will you feel when another lawyer in Direville becomes rich as Croesus when it could have been you?"

Griffin sat back and pondered, steepling his fingers as he mulled over the situation. Direville was a small town and it had three lawyers practicing and of the three, he was the youngest and the poorest. He was already eaten up with envy for what the other lawyers had and considered what this "scarecrow" had said. Grayson Griffin, Esq. was not a dull man; he was crafty and clever and that was why the lawyer under whom he apprenticed told him that law was the right profession for him. Griffin pulled open a drawer and took out a few cigars. "Cigar, gentlemen?" It was then that Adam knew that Griffin was Elias Fell's lawyer. They agreed on 20% of the profits of the first well and 2% on all other profits from drilling on the property for as long as Elias Fell owned the land. Griffin drew up a rough contract right then and there and Adam asked to read it before it was finalized. Adam reached out and Griffin reluctantly handed over the papers; he realized he had earlier been intentionally duped into thinking that Adam Cartwright was merely an ignorant ranch hand but he realized that the man was as crafty as he and that made Cartwright dangerous.

The three men sat in silence as Adam scanned the pages and then he spoke with authority. "Add in that should Elias…well, if anything happens to him, that the profits go to his family, his wife and son, and that they retain control over any future digging even if they move off the property. After all, they may decide to leave—even Mr. Fell may decide to move away from all the derricks that might be set up on his property. The noise alone could be enough to run them off."

Elias shifted in his chair but said nothing; he didn't care much for the thought of dying and Griffin agreed to add the clause although he glowered at the man who suggested it—clever bastard, Griffin thought as the sound of the nub of his pen moving on the parchment was the only one in the room