The Monstrosity, Part Eighteen

by J. Rosemary Moss

Genre: Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: R

LINK TO PART ONE

~

I kept my word. I stayed up late that night, reading to Drew in his room. I was sitting in a plump chair with my feet propped up near the fireplace. Drew, meanwhile, had taken the chair opposite me.

We were both dressed for bed—we’d gotten quite casual in each other’s company. I suppose that only makes sense, given how much time we spent together.

It was a warm night, so the fireplace was empty. I was reading by a single lamp. I paused to glance over at Drew. He was nodding off again.

I grinned. “Shall we stop there?” I asked.

“No,” he said, shaking himself awake. “I’m not ready to sleep yet.”

I rolled my eyes at that obvious lie. “Well, why don’t you get into bed, then? I’ll read until you’re out.”

“I’m not tired, Adam,” he growled. “Just keep reading the bloody story.”

I raised an eyebrow at him as I shut the book. “I thought the whole point of this was to give you the feeling of reading yourself to sleep.”

He snorted. “Yes, but it won’t work—not while you’re the one who’s reading,” he complained. “I’d end up feeling like a five-year-old who needs a bedtime story.”

I was tempted to roll my eyes again. “You have a lot of misplaced pride,” I informed him. “Are you aware of that?”

“Easy for you to say, O Sighted One,” he retorted.

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Fair enough,” I granted. I went back to the book, found the page and began reading out loud again. He was sound asleep within twenty minutes.

I set the book aside and quietly stood up. Drew looked comfortable enough in his chair, so I didn’t think there was a need to get him to his bed. Besides, he would have bit my head off for babying him if I had tried. Instead I retrieved a couple of blankets and put them over him.

Once he was as tucked in as much as I could manage without waking him, I took a moment to stare down at him. The harsh edge to his face was softened by sleep. I could almost—almost—forget that I was peering at a ruthless businessman who had taken pleasure in crushing his competition.

I realized then that we’d been avoiding any mention of the mine we owned in common. Since Kane, I had ignored my interest in it, leaving the decisions in Drew’s hands. I knew that was a mistake. Oh, I had no doubt that Drew was running a profit—but he was perfectly capable of making that profit at the expense of the men who worked the mine. I’d never known Drew to take much interest in their safety.

In a perverse way, I hoped that he had been unfair to the men. I needed something to argue with him about tomorrow—not the brief sort of clash or debate that we both enjoyed, but something that I could legitimately hold against him. I needed a reason to avoid going to the soiree. And if Drew’s business practices offended me deeply enough, I could climb onto my high horse and refuse to accompany him.

Even in his sleep, Drew must have felt the weight of my stare. He stirred a bit and opened his eyes. “Adam?” he said, reaching a hand up out of his blankets to see if I was still there.

“I’m here,” I said, reaching down to grasp his hand in mid-search.

“You stopped reading,” he said in an accusing tone.

I smiled down at him as I perched on the arm of his chair. “You fell sound asleep—you didn’t wake up even when I put these blankets on you.”

He made a face as he felt the blankets with his free hand. “There’s another one over on the bed that I like better than these,” he complained.

“Then you can get up yourself and get it,” I informed him.

He smiled a little. “I’d rather have you at my beck and call,” he said. “Don’t you want to help the poor blind boy?”

I grinned and tousled his hair again. “I think you can make it across the room to your bed. God knows we counted the steps enough times.”

He cocked his head at me as he let go of my hand. “You don’t hate that, do you?” he asked. “Helping me to learn my way around, I mean.”

“No,” I said honestly. “I find it interesting to learn the ways you have of handling your blindness. And I’m especially interested if to see if you can read on your own with Braille’s system or something similar.”

He cringed a bit at that.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I don’t know how to read,” he confessed. “Not at all. I can recite the alphabet, but I don’t know how any of the letters sound or what they mean.”

I was surprised—but of course, I shouldn’t have been. Why should he have bothered learning to spell and such? Written words had no meaning to him.

“Don’t worry about that,” I said. “I’ll teach you. I know what a good memory you have—and learning to read is largely a question of memorization.”

He grinned. “I hope you know what you’re getting into. I’m a temperamental student, remember?”

I laughed. “I think we’ll manage.”

“I think we will,” he agreed. Then he paused to yawn. “Why’d you stay in here after I was sleeping?” he asked. “It was almost as if I could feel you staring at me.”

“I was,” I admitted. “I was, ah, scheming to get out of the soiree.”

He rolled his eyes. “How?”

“By picking a fight with you over the mine.”

Now what prompted me to confess that? I suppose I thought too highly of Drew to foist an argument on him.

“It wouldn’t have worked,” he said, unimpressed by my confession. “While you were recovering, I did my best to run it in a way that you would approve of. I took good care of the men, don’t worry.”

I was shocked—but oddly touched as well. “Thank you,” I managed. “What—what made take my opinions into account?”

He shrugged. “There was no point in being contrary when you weren’t there to appreciate it.”

I laughed again and stood up. “I suppose that means I’m stuck going to this damn party.”

“You are,” he confirmed. “Now get out—I need my sleep.”

“Do you want help to your bed?” I asked, despite the fact that I knew what his answer would be.

“I can make it, remember?”

I nodded. “Good night, Drew,” I said softly. Then I left his room and strode across the hall to my own bed.

LINK TO PART NINETEEN