by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Slash Fan-Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
LINK TO PART ONE
~
Adam and David opted to walk back to the hotel after services—neither had more than an hour’s worth of sleep last night. They spoke little on the way back, lapsing into a thoughtful, companionable silence.
One thing puzzled Adam: David had seemed anxious to leave the synagogue as soon as the services were over. That was surprising, for he was quite charismatic when he chose to be and the other congregants were friendly enough.
The elderly rabbi was especially friendly. He had greeted Adam personally and engaged him in conversation. He wasn’t put off when Adam told him that he was a gentile; he just seemed interested to know what had brought him to the synagogue. And he would have spoken at length with David as well—if David hadn’t already been out the door.
But Adam decided not to question his friend about leaving so soon. However essential Judaism was to him, David still had an ambiguous relationship with his faith.
“You’re from a Sephardic Jewish family?” he asked instead, breaking the comfortable silence.
David smiled. “You could tell that from my accent in Hebrew? Very good.”
Adam grinned. “I learned quite a bit about Judaism when I courted Rebecca.”
“I suppose you would, wouldn’t you?” David mused. “You don’t seem to do things by half measures.”
He paused and then returned to Adam’s question. “Half of my family is Sephardic. My father’s people are Welsh Protestants, but my mother’s family is from Portugal. They’ve been here for a while, though. They were part of the Spanish and Portuguese synagogue in New York City that was founded back in the 1650’s.”
“Is your father alive?” Adam asked curiously.
He nodded. “Yes—but he and my mother are divorced. Scandalous, isn’t it? Divorce runs in my family. He was husband number two for my mother. She gave up on marriage after she divorced husband number three. Now she contents herself with discreet—and a few not-so-discreet—liaisons.”
Adam smiled and shrugged liberally. “Well, I don’t think anyone holds theatre folk to the same, ah, conventions that the rest of us are supposed to follow. Are you on speaking terms with your father?”
“More or less,” David answered. “I scarcely know him, to be honest. He lives in New York. We write each other on occasion—but I tend to edit out anything that’s of real importance in my life.”
They had reached the hotel by now and were soon trudging up to their rooms. Adam noticed that David stayed behind him as he opened his door and then followed him into his suite.
Adam turned to face him. The bruise on his jaw was blatant now. Without thinking, Adam raised his fingers to it.
The casual touch sent a jolt through both men. David backed away and turned abruptly. But by the time he turned back again, he seemed perfectly composed.
“That’s going to be a problem for us, isn’t it?” he asked, smiling a little. “Neither of us would consider striking a woman, but there’s no need for chivalry between us.”
Adam didn’t feel equal to responding to the assumption implicit in that statement. “That won’t happen again,” he managed.
Even as he spoke Adam wasn’t sure if he was referring to the right hook or to the casual touch.
David took him to mean the right hook. Or at least he pretended to.
“Yes it will,” he said, grinning outright now. “I’ve seen the way you and your brothers rough-house and brawl amongst yourselves. You’ll resort to your fists again. But it doesn’t matter—I can defend myself.”
He paused and leaned back against the door. “There’s no point in me going back to my own suite, is there?” he asked. “Not that it signifies now, considering that we’re both too tired to do anything.”
Adam gave him a level, measuring look. “What makes you think that something between us is inevitable?” he asked.
David shrugged. “You’re right—maybe it’s not. But if there was no chance, Adam, you would have made that clear back when we were drinking scotch on the porch of the Ponderosa. You knew that ruining you wasn’t my only motivation. I’ve been—I’ve been conscious of you since I met you in that wretched brothel that Ed Niles owns.”
Adam narrowed his eyes at him. Then he folded his arms across his chest and leaned sideways against the wall. “Is that so?” he asked.
“Yes,” David answered, meeting his gaze.
“Then why did you take up with Stephen?” Adam demanded.
He had the satisfaction of watching David’s mouth drop open. In fact, it took David a long moment to respond.
“Touché,” he managed at last, with an appreciative nod of his head. “That caught me more off guard than your right hook did.”
“Well?” Adam persisted.
David raised his eyebrows at him. “I don’t suppose we could postpone this chat until after we’ve each had a few hours sleep?”
Adam shook his head. “No. I'd like this out in the open now.”
David sighed. “All right,” he said with a shrug. “Let me tell you about Stephen.”
LINK TO PART THIRTY
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