by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG
LINK TO PART ONE
~
Spring, 1880
Mr. Harris remained absorbed in his newspaper for the ride back to his home. Personally, I thought the San Francisco news had grown shockingly dull since the death of Joshua Norton, the self-proclaimed emperor of the United States, at the beginning of this year. The city missed its favorite lunatic.
But I knew that Mr. Harris had probably already read the paper from cover to cover anyway. He was purposely giving me time to get lost in my thoughts—and I was grateful to him for it.
I kept thinking back to the aftermath of that, ah, incident with Becky Johnson. I shut my eyes and remembered how odd it had seemed that Mr. Harris had dragged Sophie to the Ponderosa with him.
~
I was always first up on the Ponderosa—I had duties to attend to before it was time to wake up Adam. On the fifth morning after the 'Becky incident,' which was the morning after Mr. Harris and Sophie arrived, I slipped out of bed at a little after four in the morning.
It was pitch black outside, but I got dressed in the dark and made my way downstairs without using a lantern. I did light one lantern after I shuffled into the kitchen, however. Then I blew on the coals in the kitchen fireplace to get the fire started.
As soon as I had the fire going, I put a pot of coffee on. Adam liked his strong and black—and he expected it a cup of it to be waiting on his night table when I woke him up each morning.
I also pumped water into the largest kettle we had and set that over the fire as well. I would need it to draw Adam’s bath. Usually he didn’t bathe until the day was over—there was no point in bathing in the morning when he was just going to get drenched in sweat and covered with grime from working on the ranch. But today he was going into town for a meeting with the cattlemen’s association, so he would need to look his best.
I crouched by the fire for a few minutes, feeding it as necessary. I didn’t mind my duties as a valet—they were demanding, but there was always plenty of time for school and for fun. And Adam paid me handsomely for my work.
Besides, I liked serving Adam. I’d have done it for free, to be honest. Lord, I would miss our routine when I left for college.
Of course, today my work would be doubled. Mr. Harris hadn’t brought his own valet to Virginia City with him, so I would be serving him as well. But he wouldn’t be waking up until much later, so I’d have more than enough time to draw a second bath and such.
I shook myself and forced my mind back on my present duties as I remembered to put the iron on the fire—Adam would need some good clothes freshly-pressed. I should see to that immediately.
I grabbed the lantern and crept upstairs, back into my own room. I kept a supply of Adam’s good clothes in my wardrobe for just such an occasion.
I thought about what he had worn to the last meeting and then picked out a shirt, trousers, cravat, waistcoat and frock coat accordingly. When I was satisfied with my selections, I brought them downstairs. Then I laid them out on the ironing board in the kitchen and turned to see if the iron was hot enough yet.
To my surprise, Sophie was peeking her head into the kitchen. I raised my eyebrows at her. “What are you doing up at this hour?”
She smiled. “I couldn’t sleep and I heard you on the stairs. Can I come in?”
I nodded. She stepped inside and took a seat by the fire.
“What are you doing?” she asked, cocking her head at me.
“Heating up water for Adam’s bath, making coffee and getting ready to press those clothes,” I answered.
She frowned. “That sounds like an awful lot of work to be doing at four in the morning.”
“It is,” I owned. “Especially since Hop Sing will be throwing me out of the kitchen by about quarter after five. He’ll need the whole fireplace to cook breakfast.”
“Will you go back to bed after that?”
I shook my head. “No. I’ll be awake to shave Adam and fetch his paper. And while he’s bathing I’ll find out if he intends to eat his breakfast with the family or if he’d prefer to have it upstairs—if the latter, I bring it up, of course.”
“My father always takes his breakfast in his room,” she commented.
I grinned. “I know—he gave me his instructions last night.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “How like my father to assume that you’ll serve him.”
I shrugged at that. “I don’t mind. He always pays me well.’
“I wonder how Adam ever got along without you,” she said, looking at me thoughtfully.
“God only knows,” I answered. “I’m more concerned with how he’ll manage when I’m off to college, though. But I suppose I have at least another year before I have to worry about that.”
She flashed me a mischievous grin. “Unless, of course, you find yourself shackled to Miss Becky Johnson between now and then.”
I glared at her. “If you had any decency, you’d be praying for my deliverance from said Miss Johnson.”
She widened her eyes at me, pretending to be shocked. “Liam! Don’t you want to marry her? Or do you make a habit of compromising girls you don’t love?”
Do you understand what I mean about Sophie? She likes nothing better than to make sport of me. I shot her a look as I picked up the iron and started on Adam’s shirt.
“I thought I loved her—but, ah, I wasn’t exactly thinking with my head."
“What a shock,” Sophie said dryly.
I ignored that and continued. “And I don’t intend to stop serving Adam until I leave for college, so if it comes to a wedding she’ll have to marry a valet.”
Sophie smiled at that. “Very well, I’ll say my prayers for your deliverance.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Let’s just hope that your father’s right and that Becky won’t be able to stand waiting for nine years to get her claws on part of my fortune.”
“She’s a fool if she refuses to wait,” Sophie said frankly. “Even if Adam does pay her off.”
I set the iron aside for a moment and stared at her. “A fool?” I repeated. “Why would Becky be a fool? She still gets $20,000 out of the deal,” I added bitterly.
I was surprised at my bitterness, in fact. Looking back, I suppose that my pride was still stung.
Sophie gave me a half smile. “That’s the part that makes her a fool,” she explained. “If I were Becky—well, I’d be more than willing to wait the nine years. And I wouldn’t care that you were a valet. And I’d never let myself be bought off for $20,000.”
I had been about to pick up the iron again, but I stared at Sophie instead. She closed her mouth and turned bright red, apparently realizing what she had just said.
I swallowed hard as I stared at her. “You’re—you’re not Becky,” I managed.
“No,” she agreed, looking down at her hands. “From what I’ve heard, she’s far prettier than I am.”
That was true—except that it wasn’t. Sophie wasn’t as conventionally pretty, but she had much more character in her face than Becky could dream of. I wanted to tell Sophie that, but I wasn’t sure how. Besides, I was starting to feel myself blush now too.
“You’re not Becky,” I repeated. “And—and if you ever considered marrying an Irish-papist-street-rat-turned-valet, I imagine your father would have a thing or two to say about it.”
“Perhaps,” she agreed again, daring to look back up at me. “But an Irish-papist-street-rat-turned-valet-who’s-going-to-inherit-a-respectable-fortune might be a different matter to my father.”
“I—I don’t think your father would get past the ‘papist’ part,” I stammered.
She shrugged, still blushing. “There’s one way to find out, isn’t there?”
I shook my head. “Not now, Sophie. I—I’m not even free to ask you. And—and you and I—”
I stopped and thought about the words I wanted. Sophie had always seemed so out of reach to me that I hadn’t considered pursuing her. It never occurred to me that she might be intent on pursuing me.
On the other hand, we’d been good friends for a long time. If I were going to spend my whole life with a girl—well, Sophie seemed like a good choice. Not the passionate, lose-your-head, breathtaking choice that Becky was, maybe. But Sophie and I would always have fun together. And she was an heiress in her own right. She didn't need to marry me for my money.
Oh yes, we'd have fun together. Well, whenever she wasn’t making sport of me, at any rate.
“Let’s—let’s talk after I’m free of Becky,” I said at last.
Sophie nodded, staring at her hands again. “Of course. I’ve been shockingly forward—but you gave me quite a scare, you know. I never dreamed you’d be stupid enough to let a girl ensnare you into a marriage.”
She paused and looked back up at me. “Besides, my father won’t hear of us marrying until you’re out of college anyway. But I think he’ll let you court me before that. You can talk to him as soon as that miserable, cunning minx takes the check from Adam.”
And with that she stood up and treated me to an elegant little curtsey. Then she turned on her heels and walked out of the kitchen, leaving me with my mouth hanging open.
LINK TO PART TWENTY-FOUR
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