The Old Deringer, Part Twenty

by J. Rosemary Moss

Genre: Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG

LINK TO PART ONE

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Spring, 1880

I can remember that the carriage ride back to the hotel was worse, if possible, than the earlier one to the office. I’d been forced to sit all day since my leg prevented me from standing—and I swear I could feel every mark that Adam’s belt had given me. It’s no wonder that I never stole anything again.

I smiled to myself as I walked away from the alley, thinking once again of Becky Johnson. After all, she was the cause of the only tanning I ever received from Adam that was worse than the one he gave me for stealing that figurine.

God, what a narrow escape I had with that girl. I didn’t even know her well when I compromised her. I’d seen her at Mass a couple of times and at picnics and such. I’d walked her home from the mercantile once, but our acquaintance went no further than that.

But I knew that I was in love with her—with all the passion that a sixteen year old idiot could muster.

And then there was a dance at the Ponderosa. I don’t even remember the reason for the celebration now. But I was invited, as usual. I was still Adam’s valet, but he treated me more like a ward than a servant. Besides, the line between servant and family was never clearly drawn at the Ponderosa—not for me or for Hop Sing.

I stood up with Becky twice. She agreed to a third dance as well, but she wanted a breath of air so I took her outside. I didn’t mean to bring her to the barn—I swear it.

In my own defense, my thoughts never went further than kissing. Oh, all right—they went a little further, but no where near as far as Becky’s went. But I can’t say that I fought her off.

But we weren’t quite as discreet as we thought we’d been. At a rather crucial moment Becky’s father came charging in, with Adam hot on his heels.

My God, what a nightmare. Becky’s mother came in behind Adam. I can remember her throwing a blanket around Becky to disguise her, ah, disheveled state and dragging her away. Becky’s father, meanwhile, was informing Adam in no uncertain terms that we’d all be discussing a wedding Mass on the morrow.

When Mr. Johnson stomped out of the barn I was still fumbling with my trousers, trying to make myself decent. But Adam turned to me with a look that still makes me cringe, even just thinking back on it. He told me not to bother and then pushed me back down on the hay. Then he gave me a tanning that I've never forgotten. I’d like to say that it was all worth it—but no such luck.

I was furious and humiliated at the punishment. That was one of the few times I ever raised my voice at him. I shouted all sorts of dire curses and foul insults at him and told him that I was sorry I’d ever come to Nevada with him and that I wished he had left me on the streets where he found me.

I didn’t mean a word of it—fortunately Adam knew that. When he was done setting my hide on fire he sighed and sat down beside me.

By then I was lying down with my face buried in the hay to disguise the fact that I was crying. But I didn’t flinch when I felt Adam running his fingers through my hair. In fact, I was grateful for the comfort. I was already sorry for the things I’d just said.

“Liam,” Adam began, “you ought to have had more sense than to compromise that girl.”

“She—she’s the one who led me in here!” I mumbled through the hay.

I could tell by Adam’s next words that he was rolling his eyes. “Oh, I believe you—in fact, I’m sure she told her father in advance when to come storming in.”

I did look up at that. I was so surprised that I didn’t care if he saw all the tears running down my face. “What—what would she gain from that?” I gulped.

He gave me a wry smile as he shook his head at me. “You’re quite well-off, Liam. Apart from the money that I’ve set aside for your schooling, someday you’ll inherit a small fortune from me. Most of Virginia City has figured that out, even if you haven’t.”

I stared at him. I’d always figured that Adam would leave me something, but I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around what he was talking about. “How—how much are you leaving me?” I managed.

He named the figure. I think my mouth just dropped open.

He sighed. “Liam,” he said, still stroking my hair, “Do you know why I’m so angry with you?”

“Because you think that I let Becky—that I let Becky con me. Con me and trap me.”

He shook his head. “That’s only part of it—a small part. I’m angry because I’ve spent the last five years trying to show you that the world has more to offer you than you can imagine. There’s still a part of you that’s trapped in the slums of San Francisco. You’re still convinced that you don’t deserve an education or a good career. Or even an inheritance.”

I swallowed at that. “You told me yourself that there’s no shame in being a servant. Has it ever occurred to you that I’m satisfied?”

He sighed again. “There isn’t any shame in being a valet,” he agreed. “But that doesn’t mean you should ignore your other options. I want you to go on to college, Liam, so you can find out what else you might like to do. You've got the brains and the talent to pursue a career in law or medicine, if you chose.”

He paused for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was heavy. “Becky can imagine your inheritance,” he said dryly, “but she can’t imagine anything more. She won’t understand the kind of opportunities that are available to you, Liam. She’s only thinking of having a big house in town and lording it over her Virginia City neighbors.”

I thought about that. Some part of me knew that he was right—but I wasn’t ready to admit that. “Maybe you’re misjudging her,” I said.

“That’s possible,” he owned. “And I hope I have misjudged her, for your sake. At the moment, I don’t see a way of extricating you from this marriage.”

I pulled myself a little closer to him and rested my head on his lap. It’s funny, but I was never so tactile or affectionate with anyone else—that was a privilege I reserved solely for Adam.

“I promise—I promise that I’ll go to college,” I told him. “Even if I have to buy Becky a nice house in town first and leave her there while I’m gone.”

“Good,” he returned. “I’m going to hold you to that, my boy.”

I was still crying and gulping, but I managed a smile anyway. “I know,” I said.

I wanted to say more. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him and how much I appreciated the fact that he was constantly expanding my world.

But at the time, I couldn’t find the words.

LINK TO PART TWENTY-ONE