by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Slash Fan-Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
LINK TO PART ONE
~
Abby stood nervously on the steep Virginia City street with Hoss at her side. The stage should have been here by now—why the delay? She couldn’t help but wring her hands together.
Hoss smiled down at her. "It’ll be along anytime now, Miss Abby," he assured her.
Abby smiled back at him. She had given him permission to drop the ‘Miss,’ but Hoss was still shy about using her first name alone. That secretly pleased her—none of the men in the saloon had ever called her ‘Miss.’
Just then the stage came thundering in. Hoss led Abby back a few steps and then placed himself in front of her in order to shield her from the choking dust. But at length the dust settled and the passengers climbed out. Abby rushed forward as soon as she saw David.
She held out her hands to him, but, to her astonishment, he ignored them and pulled her into his arms. He held her tightly to him for a long moment—she even felt him kiss the top of her head.
She was vaguely aware of Hoss shouting at Adam and Little Joe and hugging them both, but she was still so surprised by David’s warm greeting that she scarcely noticed.
She looked up at David in some confusion when they finally broke apart. His eyes held only sympathy and concern.
"I have grave news for you," he said softly. "Let me take you someplace where we can sit down."
She nodded dumbly, wondering what could have happened. Did he intend to part ways with her? Had he decided not to go through with the marriage after all? But if that were the case, why the warm greeting? And why was he holding her arm so tightly now?
Nothing in the telegraph that Little Joe sent to Mr. Cartwright had indicated any problems. It had merely named the stage they’d be returning by. And obviously Adam, Joe and David were all in one piece. What could be wrong?
David led her to the restaurant of the International House where he acquired a small, private table. He requested tea from the waiter and then reached across the table to take both of Abby’s hands.
"Your father is dead," he told her in a gentle, sympathetic voice. "His heart gave out some months ago. I’ve spoken with your grandfather, your mother and one of your sisters, however. They’re all anxious to see you—in fact, they’ve been sick with worry and apprehension on your behalf."
Abby felt her mouth drop open. Somehow her brain had frozen—she couldn’t seem to form any words. She couldn’t even manage to ask how David had discovered her family.
"There’s more," David continued, tightening his grip on her hands. "Your husband is also dead."
"H-how?" Abby stammered.
"I sought him out," David explained. "I’ll tell you the whole story later. For now, I just want you to know that he refused to give you a divorce—not even for a generous bribe. He, ah, was determined to settle the matter with blood. And so we did."
"Are—are you saying that you fought a duel with him?" she demanded.
He nodded and looked almost ashamed. "Yes. I’m sorry, Abby. I wish—I wish to God that he had just taken the money."
Abby retracted one of her hands and fingered the scar on her face. "I’m not sorry," she said, tasting venom in her voice. "I’m glad he’s dead. I’m glad you killed him."
To her relief, he didn’t appear shocked by her words and he didn’t seem to disapprove of them. He simply nodded his understanding.
"Will you have trouble with the law?" she asked.
"No," he assured her. "We had more than enough witnesses to prove that it was a fair fight."
"Thank God," she said. "In a little while—in a little while what you said about my father will catch up with me. But it hasn’t sunk in yet. Right now I’m just relieved that I’m free!"
David managed a small smile at that. "Not quite free," he reminded her. "You’ll have me as your lord and master now."
"I don’t mind that," she said earnestly. "Not after what you’ve done for me. You—you still want to marry me, then?"
"Yes," he said at once. "The sooner the better. It shouldn’t be hard to find two Jewish men to serve as witnesses."
He paused and stared down at the table. "There’s—there’s still one more thing, Avigail," he said at length, lowering his voice despite their privacy. "I don’t mean to overwhelm you with news, but I can’t keep this secret from you. Adam and I have grown quite, ah, intimate. He means the world to me. I want to make sure you understand that before you marry me."
Abby shut her eyes for a long moment. When she opened them, she gave David a level look and spoke in a steady, even voice. "I don’t mind, David," she insisted. "I just want a good father for my children and a dear friend for myself."
He squeezed her hand tightly. "I’ll always be that," he promised.
She felt herself blush. "Will you—will you let me cry on your shoulder when the news of my father catches up with me?" she stammered.
He leaned down and kissed her hand. "Of course," he said. "That goes without saying—as long as your shoulder will be there when I need it."
"It will be," she said at once. "I promise."
LINK TO PART SEVENTY-EIGHT
No comments:
Post a Comment