Chapter Twelve
Rachel was washing the dishes when Adam turned in. He said goodnight to her as he passed on his way to his room and she replied in kind. Elias sat in the parlor sipping hard cider and fantasizing about being a wealthy man. He had never had the means to buy himself or anyone else any store-bought, fancy clothes so he imagined himself dressed in a cutaway jacket and a high beaver hat. Maybe he'd even carry a silver-tipped cane.
In his back room, Adam was unbuttoning his shirt when the door opened and Rachel stepped in. She closed the door behind her and put her finger to her lips.
"Mrs. Fell, I don't think…"
"No," she replied and reached into her apron pocket. "I want to hide this here in the storeroom." She pulled out the locket still on the blue ribbon. She walked to the shelf and opened a stone crock and placed the locket inside. "If Elias decides to sell it, I'll tell him I lost it."
"Do you think he'll believe you?"
"I don't care just as long as he never finds it. It's precious to me. I've also hidden letters from the boy I was going to marry, Franklin. He would write me every chance he had during the war and I brought them with me. I know Elias would burn them if he found them but some afternoons I come in here and pull them out and read them again. It helps me sometimes to know that I was loved, that he loved me."
Adam gently smiled. "I understand." Then the door flew open and a furious Elias stood framed by the open door.
"You whore, you jezebel," Elias said as he reached out and grabbed Rachel by her wrist, pulling her to him.
"No, Elias—you don't understand…"
"So this is why you wanted Griffin to add in that bit about my maybe dying, huh, Cartwright? You and Rachel planning on killing me and taking my land?"
"Elias, it's nothing like that!" Rachel flinched when Elias raised his hand but he was unable to strike her because Adam grabbed his upraised arm.
"I can't abide to see a woman struck." Adam held him for a few more beats and then released Elias' arm which he dropped by his side. Elias let go of Rachel and she rubbed her wrist where he had gripped it.
Adam waited, gauging the situation. Then evenly and calmly, he spoke. "Elias, I have no interest in owning your property or anything that's yours. If you like, I'll pack my gear and leave now but Rachel didn't come in here for me. This is where you keep supplies, isn't it, and she isn't stupid enough to do anything behind your back while you're sitting in the parlor."
Elias, his chest heaving, looked back and forth at the two people. "Perhaps I was hasty…" Elias rethought the situation. It was possible, Elias considered, that Rachel was innocent and there was nothing between her and Adam Cartwright and yet, they seemed too comfortable with one another not to have some type of affection between them, some silent communication. And then there was the clause that Adam asked to be added to the retainer contract. Elias decided that he would wait and watch and in the meantime, he would make use of Adam's knowledge and money by having him read the final contract tomorrow in Griffin's office. Then Adam would pick up the wired money to pay off the bill at the store. Elias knew he would feel relief to have that business finished, two fewer things to keep him from sleeping well. Then he and Adam would repair the downed fence. But tonight, Elias decided, he would lock the bedroom door and put the key under his pillow. And Rachel would know who had rights to her and who her husband was.
"Do you have a wire for me, Adam Cartwright?" Adam leaned against the counter in the telegrapher's.
"Yes, sir," the young man said, smiling. He remembered this tall, dark man from the day before because he had left him a nice tip. The telegrapher turned around, looked in the slat marked "C" and pulled out an envelope, handing it to Adam.
Adam read the wire silently and then turned to Elias. "My father took care of the money yesterday; let's go to the bank." What Adam hadn't revealed was that his father had also included his hopes that Adam would use the money to come home—Adam was, as his father had written, profoundly missed by those who loved him.
The two men walked down the street to the bank and Elias handed over the required fifty cents transaction fee before the bank would give Adam the money. Adam also had no identification and although he had shaved that morning, he knew what he looked like to the bank teller and could well understand why the man had called for the manager to intervene in the transaction. Adam finally convinced the bank manager that if he weren't who he said he was, how would he have the telegram informing him that the money was available? After Adam signed the receipt, the bank manager told the teller to give "Mr. Cartwright" $100.00 and the man counted it out. Adam folded the bills in half, tucked them in his shirt pocket, tipped his hat and left, Elias on his heels.
Elias watched as Adam paid off the store bill and Mr. Sweet, once he saw the amount of money Adam held, became obsequious, almost kowtowing making Adam smile; it was interesting to Adam how money changed everything. Mr. Sweet asked Adam if he had need of anything else, anything at all. Perhaps a new shirt, a belt? He had fine leather belts. Would Mr. Cartwright be interested is looking at them? What about new boots? He had some fine hand-tooled boots from a maker in Philadelphia. Adam replied that he wasn't interested and he and Elias left the store. Adam wanted to buy Sonny candy and Rachel a little something but after what had transpired the night before, he thought better of it.
"I'll buy you lunch," Adam said to Elias. The clock at the bank had shown that it was near 11:30.
"You don't owe me any meal. My wife will feed me when I get home but go ahead and buy yourself lunch. I'll wait in the buckboard."
Adam stopped and faced Elias. He knew that "my wife" was Elias' way of stressing that Rachel was his property. "You've been giving me a place to sleep and the warmth of your home. If I had to pay for all that as well as pay someone to cook my meals, well, it would have cost me quite a bit more. Allow me to buy you lunch as a way to show my gratitude."
The men stood for a moment and Elias thought. He hated wealthy men—had been at their mercy all his life and now he saw Adam as a wealth man, not some bedraggled saddle tramp who had wandered onto his property. Adam's clothes may be worn and his sleeve cuffs frayed, his boots dusty and scuffed and his hat weathered from rain and snow and heat but Adam Cartwright was still a wealthy man. And he was educated and knew more about business than Elias was certain he would ever know; Elias hated Adam for that. And then there was Rachel. When Elias and Rachel were alone in the locked bedroom, he had threatened to beat her raw if she was laying with Adam Cartwright. He had pulled off his belt, doubled it and snapped the leather.
"I'm warning you, Rachel. If you're spreading your legs for him, I'll whip the skin off your back. Understand?" She had nodded but had never confessed anything, just kept denying anything had happened between her and Adam Cartwright. Elias finally let it drop. He knew that if he beat Rachel while Adam was here, Adam would more than likely beat him and although he knew he was physically larger than Adam, Elias also knew that Adam would be better with his fists. He'd wait until Adam had left for Nevada and then get the truth out of her.
But Elias agreed to let Adam buy him lunch so they walked over to Mrs. Cowan's restaurant and ordered beef stew with cherry cobbler for dessert. The men barely spoke during the meal but then Elias wasn't one for conversation and Adam, although he enjoyed a conversation and expressing his views on varied subjects, found no real common spirit with Elias; it was like eating with a dumb beast, as far as Adam was concerned and considered what it would be like to only have interest in filling one's belly and satisfying one's lust. Adam realized the thin line that separated him from men like Elias Fell. What would he be like if a quirk of fate had placed them in each other's circumstances, Adam wondered? Would he be a brute? And Adam's mind wandered back to Rachel and the night she had come to him. Did Elias cherish her gentleness, her tender touch and her soft mouth? Did he thrill to feel her hands on him as they rushed like a breeze over his skin? And jealousy rose in him, gripping his throat and he stopped eating and put down his fork.
"Don't like the cobbler?" Elias asked; he had drowned his cobbler in the rich cream that was in the little cow pitcher on the table and he spoke with his mouth full of the blood-colored mush.
"I'm full. That's all." Adam pushed the small bowl away and Elias pulled it toward him.
"No sense wasting food." Elias finished his cobbler and then Adam's while Adam sat back and drank his coffee, deciding that tomorrow he would leave. Tomorrow after breakfast.