The Silver Coin, Part Sixteen

by J. Rosemary Moss

Genre: Slash Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13

Link to Part One

~

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Joe wished he hadn’t spoke. In fact, he wished that he’d weaseled out of this trip—he wished he were safe at home, far from his brother’s prodding amber eyes.

But it was too late to back out now, so Joe went forward.

“I—I’ve been in some trouble lately,” he confessed. “I lost five hundred dollars at poker to some Irish fellow named Donovan—and Donovan managed to swindle me so that it was really a five thousand dollar loss.”

Adam stared at him for a moment and then sighed. “That’s what you and David have been keeping from me?”

Joe nodded. “Yeah—I made David promise to keep it between us. And David talked to Donovan—and he threatened him with legal actions that may or may not have worked. In the end, they settled on a thousand dollars, so that’s what I owe the fellow.”

“Why didn’t you come to me?” Adam asked softly.

Joe felt himself swallow hard. “Because you’d have had my hide. And because—because you’d have seen that gambling’s a problem for me. David had already figured that out.”

Adam inhaled sharply. “When I asked you if David was right—if you had a problem—you assured me that he was mistaken.”

“I lied,” Joe admitted. “I didn’t mean to—I didn’t recognize the problem myself till just now. Only David could see it.”

Once again, as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wished that he could take them back. He shouldn’t have brought up David again—he shouldn’t have rubbed it in that David, and not Adam, had known that Joe was bordering on addiction.

But another part of Joe was angry at Adam for not seeing the problem—and for not listening when David had pointed it out to him. Again he had the feeling that somehow this was all Adam’s fault—Adam, Hoss’s and Pa’s. All three were so intent on spoiling Joe that they had blinded themselves to his shortcomings. That’s why he was in this mess.

But that was ridiculous. Joe knew that he couldn’t hold them responsible for his actions. And yet, some twisted-up part of him still blamed them…

Oh Lord, he still wished that he was far away from this line shack and this campfire and his brother’s guarded amber eyes. Memories surged back into him—memories from just a month or so ago—when he, his brothers, David and some of the hands had struck up a game of baseball. As a lefty, Joe could hit just about anything a right-hander could throw at him and he was the devil of a fast runner. He would get on base and a hit or two later make it home-safe…*

He wished that he could run all the way home now, but no such luck.

“I’m sorry that I lied,” he managed, looking away from Adam and into the fire.

Adam was quiet, but Joe could still feel his eyes on him.

“Please say something,” Joe asked without turning away from the flames.

Then suddenly his brother’s arm was around him, pulling him close, and Joe instinctively rested his head on Adam’s shoulder—just like he used to do as a little kid when he sat on older brother’s lap.

He felt Adam tousle his hair and heard him speak at last.

“You were right,” Adam told him. “I’d have had your hide. And if you lie to me again about this, Joe—well, I don’t care how old you are. I’ll give you the tanning of your life.”

Joe just nodded. Normally he’d have been indignant. He might have even treated older brother to a left hook. But he didn’t stand on firm enough ground to do that now—Adam had no reason to treat him like an adult at the moment.

Adam seemed satisfied with his silence. “You’ll get through this, Joe—I promise you that. I reckon that between me, Hoss and Pa we can keep you too busy to think about poker.”

Joe glanced up at that. “I’ll tell Hoss, but I’m not going to tell Pa.”

Adam tousled his hair again. “Pa needs to know, Joe. I know you—if you don’t tell Pa, you’ll see him as a refuge and you’ll try to sweet-talk him into loans and advances to get enough money to sit at the tables again. You’ve already done that to me, back when I paid you to take my part on this trip.”

Joe made a face at that, but he felt obliged to nod at the truth of it. “Can’t we just tell Pa not to loan me money?”

But Adam shook his head. “No. You have to tell him the whole of it. He has to know why putting money in your hands is dangerous. And he has to know that you’ll be willing to lie—both to yourself and to him—about what you intend to do with that money.”

Joe felt a sickening knot form in the pit of his stomach. Telling Adam had been bad enough—he couldn’t imagine telling Pa.

“Can we talk about this in the morning?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Adam agreed. “But you’re not going to worm your way out of talking to Pa. Now get some sleep—we’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

“All right,” Joe agreed as he separated from his brother and turned back to his blankets. “Are you going to turn in too?”

“In a bit,” Adam answered. “I need—I need to talk to David.”

Joe nodded. He could understand why older brother meant to wake up David and talk to him now, in the middle of the night. Some things just can’t wait.

But Joe had assumed that Adam meant to apologize to him. After all, David had tried to tell him about Joe’s problem, but Adam had refused to listen. And David had been the one to keep an eye on Joe since.

But when Joe watched Adam shake David awake, there was no apology in his voice or in his expression. No, older brother looked grim and angry. The knot in Joe’s stomach tripled.

Adam had kept his temper with him—but only because he meant to take it all out on David.


* The rules of baseball were set down in 1845 by--believe it or not--Alexander Cartwright.