All recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. All original characters and plots are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

Oftentimes I worry that I keep writing the same plot but dress it in different clothes. (Me and Dan Brown! Ha, ha! ) Nevertheless, I hope this story has a fresh, new wardrobe and that whoever reads it, enjoys it.

The Bait and the Snare

Better shun the bait, than struggle in the snare. – John Dryden

Chapter 1

"Adam, let me go in with you – please." Her voice had an edge of desperation.

"Ginevra, let me speak to him alone, man to man. I think it's best that I 'beard the lion' by myself." He smiled at her worried expression.

"But, Adam, you don't know my stepfather, you don't know how he can be. Please let me go in with you." She held onto his arm in a futile attempt to hold him back until he agreed.

"Ginevra," Adam said, smiling gently at her, "my golden angel, don't look so worried; you'll end up with a face like a disapproving schoolmarm. And why wouldn't your father say yes? Look at me," he said with a small laugh. "How could he refuse a college-educated man who's set to one day inherit a third of the biggest ranch in Nevada territory as a son-in-law? And someone who loves his daughter so." Adam held Ginevra's chin with one hand, looking at her lovely face. She filled him with such joy, her golden-flecked brown eyes almost matched her deep golden hair and her face was more beautiful than the subject of the Da Vinci painting after whom she was named. Adam kissed the tip of Ginevra's nose and grinned. But it wasn't enough to satisfy Ginevra and she threw her arms about him, burying her face against his chest.

"Oh, Adam, I love you! I'm so afraid he'll deny you." She looked up into his face. "Kiss me for good luck."

"Any excuse to kiss you…" Adam wrapped his arms about the girl he loved and pulled her even closer, kissing her eager mouth. She yielded to him and Adam's heart pounded. Yes, she would yield her body to him when they married. Then, after he released her mouth, Adam kissed her hair, murmured her name, "Ginevra," and swore he loved her more than life itself.

Finally, they parted. "Wait here for me," Adam said. He walked away toward Mr. Sullivan's office, but turned. "One more kiss for even more luck."

Ginevra ran to him and threw her arms about his neck. "Luck, darling, luck!" She kissed him.

"What?" Adam said, tenderly holding her face in his hands. "Are those tears? Why are you crying?"

Ginevra held onto his wrists. "Because I'm so happy! I'm so very happy!"

That seemed to satisfy him and Adam walked to the heavy door and knocked. Ginevra hoped Adam would forgive her for lying to him but it was only a partial lie. When she was with Adam, she was always happy, but she was close to tears now because she feared what her stepfather was going to say and how Adam would react if permission was denied, if her stepfather withheld his blessings. And all she could do was wait helplessly. Just wait.

~ 0 ~

"So, let me see if I understand you," Titus Sullivan said, steepling his fingers, his elbows on his desk, "you want my permission to marry Ginevra. And soon."

"Yes, sir. I do. I love her and I promise she'll be cherished – forever."

Sullivan chuckled. "I can tell you're young. 'Forever.' What do you know about forever?"

"I beg your pardon, sir?" Adam felt confused and he was sweating as if he was testifying in front of a hostile judge.

"How old are you, Adam?"

"Twenty-three, sir."

"Only 23." Sullivan shook his head. "And Ginevra is16."

"She'll be 17 in a few months."

"And still a minor, still needing my permission to marry. Remember that." Sullivan shook one finger at the young Cartwright.

Adam paused, his mind racing; nothing he had memorized, none of the possible arguments and counter-arguments he had contrived remained in his overheated brain. He thought he had been ready to face Titus Sullivan but now he was only aware of the thickness of his own tongue in his dry mouth.

"That's why I asked you. I have a promising future…" Adam said, remembering part of what he had planned to say, wanting to tell Sullivan how, now that he was back home, he was going to be in charge of the finances of the Ponderosa and oversee the mining interests. He was going to be able to support Ginevra and give her whatever she desired – not just what she needed. Who could deny their child such a future with a man who adores her?

Sullivan drew a deep breath. He looking at Adam Cartwright standing across from him. Those damned, arrogant Cartwrights, Sullivan thought. May they all rot in hell. And he smiled inward; his face remaining stone. "Promising future or not, I require a bride price."

Adam was confused, his mind racing – a bride price? "A what?"

"I thought you were educated, Adam, and you've never heard of such a thing?" Sullivan allowed a small grin to curl his lips, obviously pleased with himself. He leaned out and lifted the thick wooden top of the green glass humidor on his desk and pulled out a cigar, bit off the tip and spat it into the fireplace. No fire burned as it was a warm June afternoon.

Adam judged the man's actions as vulgar and he didn't like the way the conversation was going. If Sullivan had just said, not yet, as Ginevra was, in his opinion, too young to marry, Adam could have handled that, but the conversation was going into a strange area.

"I've heard of dowries, but I don't want anything; all I want is Ginevra as my wife," Adam said. Sullivan smirked and lit his cigar, seeming at ease while Adam stood sweating before him. Adam angered. The man was making fun of him, talking about bride price. "But if by bride price, you mean that you want me to buy Ginevra like the Indians buy their squaws, well, I can go round up some wild mustangs and bring them in. How many do you need in exchange for her? 10? 20?" Adam's sarcasm was evident. "Or would you settle for a few dozen strings of beads?"

Sullivan just chuckled but his gaze was deadly in intent. "You think it's a joke, do you? You want to marry my only surviving child and think I should just hand her over to you and get nothing in return."

"I'd think the fact that I love her and will be able to provide for her would be enough. Besides, she's not your blood."

"That she's not a child from my loins doesn't matter, to the law, that is. If it matters to you, well, that's irrelevant. And you brag that you can provide for her! You're just a coddled upstart." Sullivan leaned forward and with his cigar between his side-teeth, jabbed a finger toward Adam. "Well, let me tell you something, Adam Cartwright, your family's wealth doesn't impress me. I have a nice little spread here and am doing just fine. What I don't have is a son, someone who's loyal to me and my interests, to help around here and there aren't many men available for hire in these parts anymore. Seems everyone thinks they're going to strike gold and couldn't give a goddamn about hiring on at a ranch and those I do hire, well, I'm finding they either can't be trusted or soon move on to someone who pays more."

Adam understood Sullivan was referring to the Ponderosa; his father paid the highest wages. "That's a goddamn shame. Maybe you should scrutinize your prospective employees more carefully." Although his comments were delivered with an air of disdain, Adam felt the hairs stand-up on the back of his neck; he knew where this was going.

"That's just what I'm doing, Adam. If you want my daughter, then before I hand her over to you, you need to earn her."

"Wait a minute…are you saying I need to serve you like Jacob did Laban for Rachel? You want me to work for you for free? You want to enslave me for seven years before you'll give your permission?"

"Why not? Ginevra's worth it—at least I think so. But seven years…how about you work for me…say…seven months, live in the bunkhouse, eat my chuck and work alongside my men and take orders like any other ranch hand? At the end of that time, I'll give you my daughter as your wife. She'll be your wages."

Adam couldn't fathom such a proposition and he laughed at how ridiculous the whole thing sounded. "That's ludicrous! You actually want to sell your daughter!"

"Not so ludicrous, if you think about it. Why shouldn't you earn her? After all, if you really love Ginevra, show me by toiling for her. You work for me, your future father-in-law, work long and hard and do so without pay, for seven months and I'll agree to the marriage. I'll even give her away at the ceremony."

"No," Adam said quietly. "For one thing, I have responsibilities at the Ponderosa. I can't just abandon my duties for seven months. That would make me your impressed servant until…" He quickly calculated. "Until January. Cutting season would be over and my family would have done without my help in moving the herds for winter. Besides, I already have Ginevra's heart and she, mine. You ask too much."

"I ask too much? You want to take away my daughter, the only currency I have in securing a man to help around here and you say I ask too much. If I say you can marry her, and you do, what do I get from it? Nothing. I've basically lost another daughter and it's your family's gain. So, unless I have you 'pay' upfront, I've nothing left."

Adam opened his mouth to speak but Sullivan raised his hand, palm out to stifle him. "And don't tell me about 'my' future grandchildren as compensation; they would be Cartwrights, not Sullivans. And Ginevra might very well die as her sister, Teresa did, giving birth to a stillborn. And then I'd have no one. Besides, the thought of you and…" Sullivan shook his head to remove the image of Ginevra and Adam in the throes of passion. "Your family did without you while you were away being schooled. And whether you agree or not to my terms doesn't matter; I have someone else in mind to marry her anyway so the whole argument is moot."

Adam stood still, his chest heaving with fury. Titus Sullivan had cleverly thwarted his marrying Ginevra.

"Who?" Adam croaked. His mouth was dry and his throat barely worked. "Who is it?"

"I don't see that it's any of your business, but ours is now over. I'm sending Ginevra back to my sister in Philadelphia – a maiden lady. Ginevra only came home to help take care of her dying mother, may she rest in peace, and should have returned two years ago. Her aunt Pauline misses her – has no children of her own. But just to be fair to you, Adam, I'll give you a week to consider what I've said. After that, I'm putting Ginevra on the stage back east.

"So, now, since our business is over, I have work to do." Sullivan shifted forward in his chair to examine the papers on his desk. He shuffled through them, ignoring the earnest young man before him.

He was being dismissed like a small child! Adam's rage built. He wanted to slam his fist into Titus Sullivan's face, to grab him by his shirtfront and drag the man over his desk and beat him bloody. Sullivan had successfully humiliated him and denied him his stepdaughter, both at the same time. It couldn't be. Adam had planned everything so carefully, had thought it would be simple. But it had all turned out horribly wrong.

With his chest heaving, Adam waited a few more seconds and then turned and left the room, pulling shut the door behind him. Titus Sullivan looked up from the papers on his desk. He smiled to himself and chuckled. He may not have been able to defeat Ben Cartwright in business but at last he had struck out and gotten to him through his eldest son. And then Titus wondered if Ben knew that Adam wanted to marry Ginevra. And if he did…Sullivan smiled again. It must be stuck in Ben's craw.

~ 0 ~

"Adam, what did he say?" Ginevra hurried after Adam as he strode to the front door.

Adam picked up his hat from the upholstered bench in the foyer. "He said…no."

"No? But why…what reason did he give?" Ginevra wanted to cry but Adam wouldn't think much of her tears; he saw them as "women's weapons," so she swallowed hard. The tears would have to wait.

"I can't…later, Ginevra. I'll talk to you later." He put on his hat and reached for the door latch and Ginevra reached for him. She held onto his outstretched arm.

"Oh, Adam, please. Let's go back in together, you and I. When I tell him how much I love you…."

"Ginevra!" Adam pulled free from her. "Not now! Please! I have to…I told you I'll talk to you later. Tomorrow, on my way from town, a little before noon. I'll stop by. Wait for me in that stand of yew trees. You'll be there, won't you?" The thought occurred to Adam that Titus Sullivan might just ship out Ginevra first thing in the morning, having their Chinese housekeeper pack her bags tonight while she wept and begged not to be sent away.

"Yes, Adam." Ginevra pulled herself up straight, her hands calmly held in front of her. She composed her face; Adam had disdain for histrionics, that she knew. She wanted him to see that she was mature and ready to be a wife; she could bear up under trouble. "I'll be there."

And Adam left the Sullivan house feeling as if the the bottom of his secure world had just dropped out from under him and he was free-falling into an abyss.