by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Slash Fan-Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
LINK TO PART ONE
~
The next time Abby peeked in on David, he was half-sitting up in bed, reading by lamplight. She smiled in sympathy as she stared at him. Adam and Josephine had both said that he could never get comfortable on his back; he much preferred to sleep (or read) on his stomach or his side. But neither position was possible now because of his injury—and no doubt that was part of the reason he was so cross and out of sorts.
He must have sensed her staring at him, for he looked up and smiled at her. “Come on in,” he invited.
She slanted her eyes at him. “Are you going to bite my head off again?”
He laughed. “No—I’m sorry about that. Come in so I can give you my sincere and humble apologies.”
She walked over to him and took a seat next to him. He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips.
“I am sorry,” he said, giving her a warm smile. “I know I’ve been impossible. I’m determined to behave myself from here on out—but if I don’t live up to that, please be ready to forgive me again.”
Abby couldn’t help but smile back. “Adam must have gone to work on you,” she commented.
“He did,” David said with a wry grin. “He threatened to put me over his knee.”
Abby laughed. “Good—that’s no less than you deserve! And you’d best be careful, you know. You’re so weak right now that even I might be able to take you to task.”
David winked at her. “I’m terrified of you—I promise. Now come here,” he said as he released her hand and then reached out to put his good arm around her.
Abby let him pull her close, surprised once again that he was being so demonstrative. “You’re more comfortable with me since you came back from San Francisco,” she commented.
He shrugged. “Well, you are my wife now and we do intend to make a life together. But there’s something I have to tell you.”
He paused and she felt him kiss the top of her head. She stiffened a little and glanced up at him, preparing herself for something devastating.
“In the event of my death, Abby,” he began, “Adam will become the executor of my will and the legal guardian of any children we have. And he’ll hold the purse strings on the money I leave you and the kids.”
She swallowed at that. “Do you distrust me with the children or with the money?”
“No,” he said at once. “But if you remarry, your new husband, in the normal course of things, would gain full control of our children. I don’t mind you remarrying—I want you to be happy—but I don’t want some stranger having that much power over the children. I want a man I know and trust to control their upbringing and their finances.”
“And my finances,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him.
“Yes,” he owned. “And your finances. Adam will make sure that you have a comfortable income—don’t worry. He’ll be legally required to.”
She cocked her head at him. “Oh, I trust Adam. But what do you consider comfortable?”
“Well,” he answered, “let me tell you my approximate worth.”
He disclosed the figure, causing Abby to gasp.
“You have that much money?” she demanded.
He nodded. “It’s not as much as you think. And a good deal of it is tied up in investments. But the interest is still enough to keep you comfortable. Adam will have to dip into the principle, though, when it comes to educating our children. On the other hand, I’m still my mother’s heir—upon her death, I inherit considerably more.”
Abby sighed and rested her head against his good shoulder. “I didn’t know you had that much money to protect. Well, I’m coming into this marriage with nothing, David, so I’ve no right to complain.”
“But you’re still upset?” he asked, stroking her hair.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. That is a lot of money—at least to me. Of course you won’t want it to fall into the hands of some stranger. But I’m not likely to remarry, David. I rather like our arrangement and I don't think another man would understand. And even if I did find someone, he would be a good person. But you're afraid that I have terrible judgment when it comes to men!”
He chuckled at that. “I know you do, Avigail. First you married Hastings and then you married me!”
She stared at him for a moment as his words caught up with her. But then she laughed despite herself. “That’s true,” she owned. “Well, if anyone should ask me, I’ll tell them that I married you for your money.”
“Good girl,” he said approvingly.
They fell silent after that—another comfortable, companionable silence. At length David broke it.
“Adam will always be a large part of our lives,” he said softly. “Yours almost as much as mine.”
“I know,” Abby said, closing her eyes. “I don’t mind—I’ve always liked him. And he does you a world of good, you know. You need someone to keep you in hand.”
“Funny, Adam once said very much the same,” David commented.
“Oh, we compared notes,” Abby teased him. Then she decided to turn the subject. “When do you suppose we can adopt our first?”
“Once I’m recovered,” he promised.
“The child will most likely be a gentile,” she pointed out.
“Not for long,” David returned. “Your grandfather said that, in the case of adoption, you have a male child circumcised and then brought to a mikvah. Same with a female—minus the circumcision, of course.”
Abby frowned. “That almost doesn’t seem fair though, does it? Do we have the right to convert a gentile infant? Doesn’t that seem like a decision only an adult—or at least an older child—should make?”
“When an adopted boy has his bar mitzvah, he can decide whether to confirm or reject his Judaism,” David assured her. “I forgot to ask your grandfather what happens with a girl, but I’m sure she has a chance to make the decision as well.”
“Oh, I see,” Abby said as her brow cleared. “That sounds reasonable. Well, which would you rather? A boy or a girl?”
David grinned. “We’d have all girls, if it were up to me. I think I could handle raising girls better than I could handle raising boys.”
Abby laughed. “That’s only because you never had sisters! But I don’t mind adopting a little girl first.”
“Then that’s settled,” David said. “Now get out—I’m going to try to sleep again.”
Abby smiled at his abruptness as she stopped leaning against him. Apparently he could only tolerate so much intimacy from her.
“Will you let me bring you some broth first?” she asked. “You should eat something—you’re terribly gaunt. And you did promise to behave.”
David made a face but at length he nodded. “Bring up the broth. I’ll try to stomach it.”
And that, Abby reflected, was as cooperative as David was likely to get. But she decided to be satisfied—at least for the moment. She could always bully him later if the need arose.
Or, better still, she could get Adam to see to it.
LINK TO PART NINETY
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