For Want of a Brother, Part Thirteen

by J. Rosemary Moss

Genre: Fan-Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: Mature Content

LINK TO PART ONE: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2008/02/for-want-of-brother-part-one.html

~

I had ample time to study Drew Clayton that night. And one thing I noticed, consistently, is that he wouldn’t allow anyone but Adam to help him. I think it hurt his pride to accept help--he couldn’t stand to admit that his blindness made it necessary for him to rely on other human beings. Yet he could tolerate Adam’s assistance.

But despite Adam’s presence, he still wanted to be as independent as possible. And to that end, in the hours before dinner, Adam took him up to the guest room and helped him learn how to get from it to the great room, and then back upstairs again. They did this by counting the steps it took him to get from one place to another.

I heard snatches of their conversation as I sat down in the great room playing whist with Joe, Hoss and Sheriff Coffee:

“So it’s about eight steps from the doorway of your room until you can reach out and touch the railing,” Adam was saying.

“And another two to the top step of the stairs,” Drew added. “I’d like to try the hallway again, just using my cane.”

Joe, meanwhile, was shaking his head over their efforts. “It ain’t like he’s going to be here that long,” he commented. And then he laid down the worst card possible, causing Sheriff Coffee--his partner--to let out a string of curses.

“Joe, you know that Reuben is out of Spades! He’ll trump that.”

Joe cringed. “Sorry,” he said.

I bit back a smile, grateful that I had Hoss for a partner. Hoss has to take his time and think things through, but he invariably makes the right play.

“I can understand Drew wanting to be able to get around on his own,” Hoss put in. “If this new storm is as bad as the last one, we could be stuck indoors all day tomorrow.”

Joe shrugged. “I suppose,” he said, grudgingly. “But Hoss, why’d you bring him back here to begin with? What were you thinking?”

“Easy Joe,” Sheriff Coffee said. “Drew was in the jailhouse, waiting for news from the posse when Hoss arrived. I think he was annoyed to death that he couldn’t ride with the posse himself. Once he heard that Reuben was at the Ponderosa, willing to turn himself in, nothing was going to prevent him from driving out here.”

I felt a sharp pang of guilt. It wasn’t that I liked Drew--I’m pretty sure I despised him--but I could imagine how frustrating it must feel to be incapable of joining the posse that was hunting for your brother’s killer.

I let out a sigh, but I kept quiet as we played out the hand. Meanwhile, I could still hear Adam and Drew upstairs. I had to strain my ears, but I could hear them. They were in the guest room, but they must have left the door open, at least a little.

From what I could figure from their conversation, Adam was bringing Drew over to each and every piece of furniture and helping him count the steps between them all. Drew needed to understand the layout of the room so that he could get from the bed to a chair easily enough, or find the pitcher of water and the basin with his hands, or find the chamber pot.

One thing I found curious was that Adam seemed to know, without being told, just what sort of help Drew needed. What they were doing--counting steps and all--made sense, but I wouldn’t have known how to help a blind man without someone explaining it to me first. Adam must have done all this for Drew before.

I stared across the table at Hoss. “Why does Drew accept Adam’s help when he scorns everyone else’s?” I asked, keeping my voice low. “Has Adam helped him out before?”

Sheriff Coffee raised his head at that and stared at Hoss. He was just as curious as I was, I think. But Hoss and Joe exchanged glances, as if debating how much to say. Or, on second thought, maybe they were trying to figure out how much they actually knew.

“Yeah,” Hoss said at length. “Adam has helped him out before. When Jack Clayton built the new house--that monstrosity in the center of town--Adam stayed as a guest for almost a week, helping Drew get acquainted with it.”

I blinked at that. “Adam and Drew are that close?”

Hoss shook his head. “Not exactly. I’m not sure they even like each other. They’ve been rivals in business more than once.”

“But they’ve been allies in politics,” Joe put in. “They’re both fervent supporters of Northern aggression,” he added with a wry smile.

I grinned at him. By `Northern aggression,’ Joe meant Lincoln’s desire to preserve the Union. “I take it you support Southern independence?” I asked.

He grinned back. “I do,” he confirmed. “And where do you stand, Reuben Cobbs?”

But I shook my head, refusing to be drawn in. “I ain’t touching that,” I said. “Not just now. I’d rather know why Drew accepts help from Adam.”

Hoss set down his cards and furrowed his brow. “I’m not sure I can explain it. For one thing, they got a history together. Drew had to nurse Adam through a fever when they were both stuck at some old way station. Wonder how he managed that, being blind and all? 'Course, I think he had a servant with him. I wish I knew the whole story, but Adam’s never told it.”

I frowned as I considered that. “Maybe Drew don’t mind taking help from Adam because he feels that Adam owes him?” I ventured.

Hoss mulled that over. “I reckon that’s part of it,” he said. “But it ain’t everything.”

Joe set down his cards suddenly and leaned toward me, all eager-like. He even put his arm around my shoulders. I instinctively hid my own cards--Joe’s a good fellow, but I wouldn’t put it past him to cheat. One quick peek, they say, is worth hours of strategy.

“You could get the story out of older brother,” he said.

Sheriff Coffee bit back a grin at that, but Hoss brightened. “Yeah,” Hoss said, “I reckon you could. He won’t be expecting you to try and worm it out of him--you ain’t been plaguing him to death about it.”

I rolled my eyes. “Look, I’m as curious as you two are, but I ain’t about to ‘worm’ something out of Adam. I’d have to respect his privacy.”

But Joe dismissed my scruples with a snort. “Reuben,” he said, “a real brother wouldn’t think twice about invading Adam’s privacy.”

I narrowed my eyes at that. “I always tried to respect my sisters’ privacy!”

“And look where that got you,” Joe retorted. “If you’d have invaded Rosalind’s privacy, maybe you’d have known that she’d gotten herself tangled up with Jack Clayton before it was too late.”

The table fell dead silent at that. Hoss and Sheriff Coffee both picked up their cards and examined them as if they’d never seen them before. Joe kept his arm around my shoulder, but he was giving me a hard look.

For a moment I wanted to strangle him--or at least punch him in the gut. Fortunately, the cuffs made it hard to do either. I don’t think I would have anyway, though. For one thing, I don't think Joe meant it as a barbed comment. And for another, if I wanted to be honest with myself, I'd have to admit that he was right. I was Rosalind’s brother--her older and only brother. I ought to have found out what she was up to.

I shut my eyes. “I knew she was seeing someone,” I managed, dropping my voice to a whisper. “She had a glow to her, you know? But I figured that she had met some young fellow from town. I never dreamed that--well, my Pa and Ma and later my aunt raised her right. I thought she knew not to allow a man like Jack Clayton such liberties.”

Joe shrugged. “God only knows what he promised her,” he said. “And even if you had known, you might not have been able to stop her from seeing him. Not unless you locked her up somewhere, anyway, and that might not have worked either. But my point is that sometimes family members have to invade each other’s privacy.”

It was my turn to snort. “Even when it’s just to gratify our curiosity?”

Joe had the grace to blush at that, but he managed a smile too. “Yeah,” he said. “Even then.”

LINK TO PART FOURTEEN: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2008/02/for-want-of-brother-part-fourteen.html