An Adam & Drew Bit

Here's a short piece I wrote for Bonanza World's Bonanza Bits--BB's for short. This week's challenge was to include the words 'As he turned to leave, a hand on his shoulder made him pause.'

Now, with a little bit of luck, this bit will grow up to be the sequel to The Eyes of the Wind, The Monstrosity and For Want of a Brother:

~

BB #272

by J. Rosemary Moss


Adam knew where to find Drew. He had disappeared after the judge formally commuted Reuben’s sentence, but Adam could figure out just where he had gone. Guilt, if nothing else, would drive him there—guilt for helping the boy who had murdered his brother.

Adam sighed as he trudged toward the house that he had nicknamed ‘The Monstrosity.’ When he arrived he let himself inside. The door was locked, but that didn’t signify. He had his own key.

The place was empty, bereft even of furniture. Drew had given references to all the servants and then dismissed them—all the servants except Brian and his wife, that is. They would be accompanying Adam and Drew to Washington.

But Brian was lodging in the servants' house, which meant that Drew was all alone in the Monstrosity. Adam swore under his breath. He had told Drew over and over that it wasn’t safe for him to stay in this convoluted mansion on his own. His blindness could easily trap him if, God forbid, there was a fire.

He found Drew in what used to be the library. Drew must have heard and recognized his footfall, for he called out before Adam had a chance to speak.

“You must be thrilled, Adam,” he said, not bothering to disguise the bitterness in his voice. “That cocker spaniel you’ve adopted escaped justice, just as you predicted.”

Adam sighed again. “I think justice was served, Drew. You must think so as well, considering that you helped arrange for Reuben to avoid the noose and serve in the Army of the Potomac in lieu of prison.” He paused and smiled at his friend. Drew would hear the smile in his voice, even if he couldn’t see it. “Besides, I thought the kid was growing on you.”

Drew managed a slight laugh at that. “He’ll grow on me even more if he manages to get himself blown to bits in the war.”

“Yeah, I’m sure of that. Come on, Drew. Let’s leave here. You may as well stay at the Ponderosa for now.”

But Drew shook his head. “No, I need to be here tonight.”

Adam cringed at that: the place seemed too empty and desolate. But he understood. This house had been his brother’s dream, after all. “Then I’ll stay with you,” he said quietly.

“No!” Drew barked. “I don’t want you here. Stay in the house if you’d like, but keep away from me tonight.”

Adam stared at his friend, wishing that for once Drew would allow himself to mourn in front of him. There was no reason that he should bear all the guilt and grief he felt alone. But he couldn’t force Drew to accept his company—and he was wise enough not to try. Drew was constantly pulling Adam toward him with one hand and pushing him away with the other. There was nothing to be done about that.

But as he turned to leave, a hand on his shoulder made him pause. It was Drew reaching out for him, clumsily grabbing for him in his blindness. Adam stood there for a moment, waiting uncertainly.

“I’m sorry,” Drew whispered, his voice cracking. “You don’t have to leave. I just—”

Adam didn’t wait for any further invitation. He turned and gathered Drew up in his arms and then let him sob into his shoulder. Adam shut his eyes as he held his friend. He knew he couldn’t make things right for Drew—he couldn’t bring his brother back. But at least he could be there for him as he grieved.