Miss Austen

by J. Rosemary Moss

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

~

Little Joe stared at his ceiling. Not that he could see his ceiling—there was no moon tonight and he had long since put out his lamp.

He sighed. He’d spent the whole day searching for strays; now every inch of his body was bumped up and saddle sore. You’d think he would fall asleep the second his head hit the pillow—but no, he was stuck trying to stare at his ceiling in the darkness.

Well, there was no point in just lying there. He swung himself out of bed and felt his way out into the hall. There was a faint glow coming from downstairs—someone else was awake.

It turned out to be Adam. He was sprawled in a chair, with one leg over the arm, reading a book by the light of a single lamp. He was so deep into his book that he didn’t even notice Joe moseying down the stairs.

Joe thought about sneaking up on his older brother, but decided against it. He didn’t want to startle Adam into waking up the whole house. “What are you still doing up?” he asked instead as he reached the first floor.

Adam glanced up from his book and winked. “Re-reading an old favorite.”

“What’s the book?”

“Sense and Sensibility.”

Joe rolled his eyes. “What are you reading Miss Austen for?” he demanded. “She’s just a spinster who wrote about girls finding husbands. Give me a detective novel any day.”

Adam raised his eyebrows at that. “You know, I’m so impressed that you know who Jane Austen is that I won’t take offense at that statement.”

“Ha-ha,” Joe retorted. “For your information, I used to court a girl who was always reading that stuff. Seriously, Adam, what do you see in it? Do you really care who marries who?”

To his surprise, Adam smiled. It was that same smile that he wore whenever Joe and Hoss found themselves up to their necks in well-intentioned mischief. In fact, it was almost a smirk.

Joe mistrusted that smirk. It always indicated some private amusement on Adam’s part, usually at his expense. But this time Joe got the impression that he was laughing at something else.

“Jane Austen’s more than a match-making spinster,” Adam said at length. “She has a sharp set of claws on her. And she can use them to disembowel her characters—or her society.”

He paused to straighten himself out and sit up properly. “Why are you up?” he continued.

Joe shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep. I’m too sore, I think. Good thing tomorrow’s Sunday.”

Adam gave him a sympathetic nod as he stood up. “Here,” he said, handing the book to Joe. “Try it. You might be surprised.

He accepted it with a look of distaste. “All right,” he said reluctantly. “Who knows? Maybe it’ll bore me to sleep.”

Adam just smiled again and wished him a goodnight.

***

It was almost noon when Adam woke up the next morning. Joe was right, he reflected. It was a good thing today was Sunday. He would never have made it up at cock-crow.

With a yawn, he forced himself to get out of bed and get dressed. Then he made his way downstairs, hoping that Hoss had taken pity on him and left some breakfast uneaten.

To his surprise, Joe was still at the table, eating his own breakfast. He was holding Sense and Sensibility open in front of him with one hand while he spooned some scrambled eggs into his mouth with the other.

“Morning, Joe,” Adam said, trying to hide his astonishment that his little brother was so absorbed by the book.

“What part are you up to?”

“Marianne almost died of fever but I think she’s reached a turning point,” Joe answered. He paused to look up and give Adam a rueful grin. “You’re right—the spinster’s got claws. Marianne’s going to end up married to old Brandon, isn’t she? Poor girl.”

“Why poor girl?” Adam asked as he took a seat. “He’s a better man than Willoughby.”

“Yeah, but she has no passion for him,” Joe explained as he turned back to the book. “There should be more to marriage than ‘esteem.’”

Adam watched him read for a moment and then smiled to himself. Joe had clearly repented his criticism of Miss Austen. In a rare moment of charity, Adam decided not to roast his little brother for caring about “who marries who.”

~The End~