The Eyes of the Wind, Part Two

by J. Rosemary Moss

Genre: Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG

LINK TO PART ONE

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The coach was not overcrowded; there were six of us all told. Adam and I had sense enough to grab seats by the window flap--on a hot day, it was worth putting up with the dust to feel the breeze. We ended up opposite each other. My valet sat next to me and the footman next to him. Then two men with voices I didn't recognize took the remaining seats on Adam's side.

They were businessmen, judging by the smooth way they introduced themselves. Their accents proclaimed them as locals; if they weren’t from Virginia City, they were likely from Carson City. They seemed a bit disconcerted to be traveling with a blind man, but they each took my hand when I held it out. Their skin was soft and silky—neither of these men had ever labored on a ranch or a claim.

My servants were both Irishmen--they seemed content with each other’s company. They both had heavy brogues, but of quite different qualities. My valet was a Dubliner, while my footman hailed from County Kerry. Jack could never appreciate the difference in their cadences, but I could distinguish one from the other easily. I suspect that sight makes a man’s ears lazy.

Could Adam hear the difference? I considered that as the driver whipped the horses to a trot and we began to lumber out of Virginia City. In all likelihood, he could. He had a love for music and song--and that, no doubt, gave him keener ears than my brother possessed.

There was an entire file dedicated to Adam tucked away in my brain. It consisted of all the bits and pieces of information I'd picked up on him, along with any observations of my own.

To give credit where it's due, I'll own that he’s a decent sort. If he gives his word, barring any extreme circumstances, he keeps it. He loves his family beyond measure and--unless I'm much mistaken--he has a soft spot for his youngest brother, so much so that he has to fight his desire to spoil him. I suspect that's why he’s so hard on Little Joe.

But, despite his good qualities—or perhaps because of them—he can be a thick-headed mule at times. His heart bleeds over every instance of injustice in the world. Adam is a starry-eyed idealist who will spend his life railing against the injustices of this world. But I've learned to accept the injustice of it--I've had to. Being born without sight has given me an ironic insight to the subject.

Hence Adam and I wrangle over safety improvements to the mine--it's a near constant war between us. It's not that I’m against such improvements. But if I gave Adam his head he would sink funds into any hare-brained contraption a crackpot engineer designs, no matter how slim the odds of it actually working. Adam loses sight of the fact that we are in the business of making money, not coddling the miners.

I don't win every battle, of course. I surrendered on the honeycomb engineering that Adam was so enamored of. The expense of that made me cringe, but at least it had good odds of actually doing what it promised--improving the safety of the men. More importantly, it allowed us to tap deeper into the veins.

Don't mistake me: mining is bloody work and I don't envy the men who take it up. And if there is a reasonable way to improve their safety, I'll swallow the expense of it--especially if it also allows us to run the mines more efficiently. But these men are not slaves, forced to work against their will. Nor do we hire children—I abhor that practice almost as much as Adam does. They're all free adults who know the risks they're taking.

And that brings me to a subject on which Adam and I agree: abolition. Neither of us have a taste for slavery—it’s a blight on this country. Both of us supported Lincoln in the last election, despite his lukewarm stance on abolition. We both reckoned that a moderate would have a better chance of bringing about change than a radical would. So Adam and I are not always at odds.

And that, I reflected, was just as well. It was a long journey to San Francisco—we couldn’t possibly argue the whole way there.

LINK TO PART THREE