by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Fan Fiction Crossover (
Bonanza-Gone With The Wind)
Rating: PG
Link to Part One~
Adam followed Pork into the dining room. It was his first look inside the Peachtree Street mansion. As he expected, the interior was as ornate and gaudy as the exterior.
“Please sit down, Mr. Cartwright,” Scarlett invited. “Pork, you needn’t wait up.”
Pork nodded and tactfully withdrew as Adam helped himself to the chair closest to Scarlett. He gave her a measuring look as he seated himself.
“It’s a bit late for me to be paying a call to a married lady,” he commented.
“I’m not a lady,” she retorted. “If you’ve heard any gossip in town, then you must know that. I’m obstinate and selfish and greedy and I’ve been throwing myself at Ashley’s head for the past twelve years—even though I was married to three other men.”
Adam bit back a smile. “I have heard the gossip,” he admitted. “And I know from my own observations that you’re obstinate and greedy—but you’re not selfish. Ashley and Pork have told me how you’ve done everything in your power to take care of your family—not to mention the Wilkes and the Hamiltons.”
He watched Scarlett take a deep breath. “Well, let me tell you a few things that you haven't heard.”
And she did. Adam sat and listened as she told him about her first husband, Charles Hamilton, and how she had married him for spite. Then she told him about her time in Atlanta and her wild flight from town with Melly nearly dying along the way. And she explained how Rhett had abandoned them on the road to Tara.
Adam clenched his fists at that. He had heard about Rhett Butler from a number of sources in town.
He knew that Butler had shot and killed a young man in a duel in Charleston—after he had compromised the young man’s sister. He knew that Butler had made his fortune as a war profiteer. And now it turned out that he had abandoned Scarlett, Melly, Prissy and the children on a deadly, war torn road.
If the Yankees or the Confederates had come across Scarlett, the very least they would have done was commandeer her horse and wagon. Miss Melly would have died in that case. But Butler apparently thought it was more important to assuage his conscience by joining the dying Confederacy than to protect the women and children in his care.
A charming man, this Rhett Butler.
Scarlett continued her tale, telling him about the time she had shot and killed the Yankee deserter. She told him every awful thing she had done to keep food on the table at Tara—she even confessed that she had tried to become Rhett’s mistress.
She told him about Frank and how she had married him just for his money because she needed to pay the taxes on Tara. And then she told him how it was her fault that he had died. And then she told him about her marriage to Rhett and how she had embraced all his carpetbagger friends.
And finally she talked about Bonnie and how she had loved her far more than either of her other children.
“I—I know it’s wicked for a mother not to love her children,” she stammered as she poured herself another glass. “But I can’t help it. I wish Ella had died instead of Bonnie. Then Rhett would still be here.”
Adam sat in silence throughout her confessions. He wasn’t shocked or horrified. In fact, only one thing worried him: her drinking. It wasn’t going to be easy to curtail her brandy habit.
“What—what are you thinking?” Scarlett managed.
He didn’t answer that. “Why did you tell me all this?” he asked instead.
She took another deep breath. “So that you’ll know the truth about me. I don’t want you to be disappointed later.”
She paused. “After Rhett left I went back to Tara,” she continued at length. “I needed time to lick my wounds and plan how to get him back. But now—well, I don’t think I can get him back. He—he doesn’t care about anything anymore. It’s as if he buried his heart with Bonnie.”
She paused. “Once he hears about you, he’ll know why I want the divorce. If—if he still cares for me, he’ll come back for me then. And if not—”
“And if not you might as well marry me,” Adam supplied. “Is that it?”
She nodded and reached for her glass again. But Adam grabbed it first and moved it out of her reach.
She opened her mouth, shocked at his action. “If you marry me, Mr. Cartwright,” she said, narrowing her green eyes at him, “you’ll have to accept the fact that I like my brandy.”
“And if you marry me, Scarlett,” he returned evenly, “you’ll have to obey me. I won’t put my foot down often, but I’m not about to let you drink yourself blind.”
There was a long, tense moment of silence. Scarlett glowered at him, but Adam met her stare and held it.
In the end she was the one to back down. “That would have been my last glass,” she said with a shrug. “Do you still want to marry me, or have I frightened you off?”
He grinned at that. “It would take more than what you’ve told me tonight to scare me off,” he informed her.
She returned his smile. “Aren’t you scared of anything? I’ve done murder, Mr. Cartwright,” she reminded him.
He shook his head at her. “Killing that Yankee deserter was self-defense, Scarlett, not murder.”
“What a tactful way to describe such a crude incident,” said an unfamiliar, mocking voice.
Adam saw Scarlett go white as he stood up and turned to face the stranger. An elegantly dressed, powerfully built man stood at the entrance to the dining room.
Adam could just make out his features in the lamplight. He was a swarthy man, with hair as black as his own and a moustache to match.
“Don’t just sit there, Scarlett,” the man said. “Won’t you introduce me to your fiancé?”
“Rhett! When did you get home? And how—how much did you hear?” Scarlett demanded.
Rhett Butler laughed. “Enough to ascertain that you’ll only take Mr. Cartwright here if I won’t have you. Tell me Scarlett, do you never tire of marrying men you don’t love?”
Scarlett collected herself. “Rhett, this is Adam Cartwright,” she said with cold dignity. “Adam, this is my husband.”
“So I gathered,” Adam said dryly. And with that, he forced himself to offer Rhett his hand.
*
Scarlett stared at the two men in front of her. Each was giving the other a cold, measuring look. Adam had offered his hand to Rhett, but Rhett had yet to accept it.
In fact, Rhett raised his eyebrows at Adam and favored him with a sardonic smile. “According to the conventions, I believe I should be challenging you to a duel, not shaking your hand.”
Adam let his hand drop at that. “If you think that I’ve compromised your wife, go right ahead,” he said dryly. “But I’m not as green as that boy you killed in Charleston.”
Rhett threw back his head and laughed at that, but Scarlett cringed. She wondered how Adam had found out about that incident.
It happened a long time ago. Back before the war, Rhett had compromised a young woman in Charleston by taking her out for a buggy ride without a chaperone. He kept her out nearly all night, claiming that the buggy smashed, the horse bolted and the pair got lost in the woods. And then he refused to marry her!
The girl’s brother challenged him to a duel and Rhett accepted, saying that he’d rather be shot than marry a stupid fool. But there was little chance of Rhett taking a bullet. He was quite handy with a gun—he shot and killed the boy.
Scarlett had admired Rhett for refusing to marry the ‘stupid’ fool. But now she was having second thoughts.
What would Adam have done in Rhett’s shoes? Why, Adam was just as good a shot as Rhett—if not better.
But Adam wouldn’t have compromised the girl in the first place. And if he had—why, he would have married her. Or he would have found another way to extricate himself. But he would never have fought the duel—he would never have risked killing a young man who was only trying to defend his sister’s honor.
Scarlett caught her breath. She rarely set her mind to moral puzzles and when she did she quickly grew uncomfortable. She wanted to admire Rhett, not Adam. Adam was just a means of regaining Rhett’s heart—and barring that he was a failsafe. It would be better to marry Adam, after all, than to live out her life as an abandoned wife.
She shook her head and forced herself to dismiss her thoughts about the duel. It was all such a long time ago—there was no point in troubling over it now.
“What brings you to Atlanta?” Rhett inquired as he lit a cigar. “Surely not just the Freedmen’s Bureau. Were you trying to escape the Ponderosa and the demands of such an empire?”
Scarlett frowned at that. Empire? What was Rhett talking about? Adam’s family were small time ranchers in Nevada—or so she had assumed.
Perhaps Rhett was being sarcastic. It would be just like him…
And why would Rhett know the first thing about Adam? Unless India Wilkes or some gossipy matron had written to his mother in Charleston—that’s probably how it happened.
It was most likely India Wilkes. She was Ashley’s sister and so she knew all about Adam. That dried up old maid had always hated Scarlett—and no doubt that had driven her to make certain that Rhett found out.
And Rhett, in turn, proved jealous enough to investigate Mr. Cartwright. Scarlett’s mood brightened at once.
Adam had been narrowing his eyes at Rhett, but he grinned suddenly—almost despite himself, Scarlett thought. “No, I had no desire to escape the Ponderosa,” he explained. “Only to leave it temporarily. But I mean to return.”
“With my wife in tow?” Rhett inquired politely, as if they were discussing the weather.
“If she agrees, yes,” Adam returned. “I mean to take Scarlett and the children.”
With that Adam turned back to Scarlett and leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I’ll call on you in the morning,” he told her.
Their eyes met for a moment. Scarlett could read his unspoken question: Are you frightened of Rhett? Should I stay?
She shook her head ever so slightly. Adam nodded at that, picked up his hat and jacket and left the house.
Scarlett turned to Rhett as she heard the front door close. She opened her mouth to speak, but found herself at a loss for words.
That was strange. She never felt uncomfortable speaking to Adam. But Adam’s eyes never had that cold, distant look that Rhett’s had taken on.
He turned those eyes on Scarlett, giving her a hard, calculating look. But to Scarlett’s surprise, that look was tinged with respect.
“I must congratulate you, Scarlett,” he said as he took a puff of his cigar. “I never guessed that you’d have so much sense—I thought you’d always prefer glister over gold. Now let’s see if we can discuss our marriage like two reasonable adults.”
Scarlett nodded wordlessly. She still couldn’t read Rhett, she realized. She had no idea if he meant to give them another chance together—or to offer her a divorce.
*
Scarlett received Adam in her parlor the next morning. Rhett was not at home—in fact, she suspected that he had spent the night elsewhere.
She would have preferred to have met Adam at the mercantile. Rhett seldom set foot in her shop, so nothing there reminded her of him. But today was Sunday and so her shop was closed.
And why shouldn’t she receive Adam in her home again? It was useless to pretend that he was just an employee.
She smiled at him when Pork announced him and stood up so that he could greet her properly. He only kissed her cheek, however—and to her surprise she was disappointed.
“Is that any way to greet the woman you’re going to marry?” she inquired as soon as Pork left the room.
Adam raised his eyebrows at that. “You agreed to a divorce?”
Scarlett nodded and gave him a look that was calculated to enchant him.
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Scarlett, was this an amicable agreement?”
She swallowed hard at that. At length she shook her head. She would have lied, but she was afraid that Adam would see through her.
“It was Rhett’s choice, not mine,” she confessed. Her eyes flashed as she remembered their conversation from the night before. “But I—I can’t think about that now. I’ll fall apart if I think about it. And I don’t mean to carry on like an embittered wife.”
Adam cocked his head at her. “And so you’re going to marry me to prove that you’re not devastated?”
Scarlett peered intently at him. There was no anger in his voice—and no shock or jealousy either. In fact, he seemed almost amused by the situation.
“Yes,” she answered.
“You married Charles Hamilton for a similar reason,” he pointed out.
Scarlett felt her eyes widen at that. “I did,” she admitted. “But—but somehow this feels different.”
Adam sighed. “Well, at least you have your eyes open this time,” he agreed.
She stared at him again. “Why are you marrying me?” she demanded suddenly. “It isn’t—it isn’t because you want the authority to spank me, is it?”
Adam laughed. “No—but I mean to take advantage of it,” he assured her.
Scarlett couldn’t help but smile back at that. She knew that Adam would never really harm her—but there was something exciting about the thought of him taking her in hand again.
“Is it because you like my children?” she asked. “Is that the reason?”
“Well, I am attached to them,” he admitted. “But that’s not why I’m marrying you.”
“Are you in love with me?” she persisted, stepping closer to him.
He stared down at her for a long moment. “Yes,” he said at length. “But it’s not the sort of love you’re thinking of, Katie-Scarlett.”
She smiled up at him. “What do you mean by that?”
He chucked her chin. “I mean that you don’t know the difference between love and obsession.”
Scarlett laughed at that and slanted her eyes at him. “I suppose you think you can teach me? You’re an arrogant devil, Adam Cartwright.”
“I suppose we’re going to find out,” he retorted, winking at her. Then his voice grew serious. “Listen to me, Scarlett. Are you sure you can stand the censure of a divorce?”
She frowned as she considered that. She’d never known a divorced woman, but she’d heard of some. When a woman divorced and remarried, respectable people considered it a scandal.
And Scarlett was a Catholic. There’d be no wedding Mass when she married Adam, for the Church didn’t permit remarriage after divorce.
But, in truth, Scarlett cared very little about the Church. Nor did she care much about the respectable citizens of Atlanta. They had always gossiped about her before—why should that change now?
“My mother would turn in her grave if she knew,” Scarlett said at last. “And I can’t imagine what Mammy’s going to say when she finds out…but never mind that.”
She placed her hand on his arm as she remembered something much more important. “Adam, Rhett’s going to be difficult about the settlement. He keeps pretending that you have an empire out west. He says that you should be able to provide for me and my children.”
“I think I can manage that,” Adam said dryly.
But Scarlett shook her head. “You don’t understand. If we leave for Nevada—well, I’ll have to sign Tara over to Will and Suellen. Oh, but we must come back periodically, Adam. I don’t care how long the trip is. I can’t be away from Tara forever.”
“We’ll come back,” he promised.
She smiled. He would keep his word, she knew that. So she set Tara aside and went back to finances. “Of course, I’ll have the money from the sale of my store—”
Adam laughed. “Scarlett, I’m not a pauper. The Ponderosa does well enough—I’m sure we’ll manage.”
Scarlett wanted to frown at that, but she kept her smile pasted on. Adam was proud of his family’s pitiful little ranch, she reminded herself. She would have to pretend to be impressed when she finally saw it.
Nonetheless, he had good business sense. If he would let her guide him, perhaps she could make the Ponderosa truly profitable.
“Would you—would you object to me taking a slight hand in the family business?” she asked.
“No,” he answered. “But it’s an honest business, Scarlett.”
Her mouth popped open at that. “What do you mean to insinuate?”
“I don’t mean to insinuate anything,” he assured her. “But I’m quite familiar with your ethics and I’m not going to allow you to cheat anyone.”
“I never cheated anyone,” Scarlett snapped. “Well—excepting some of the low-grade lumber I sold when I owned the mills. Some might consider that cheating.”
“Let’s not forget that you used convict labor for those mills,” he reminded her. “I’m sure those men were cheated out of any decent care.”
“And I suppose you would have objected to the convicts?” she demanded.
“I wouldn’t have let you use forced labor,” Adam confirmed.
She narrowed her eyes at him. He met her stare—in fact, there was a challenging gleam in his own eyes.
She smiled again—a genuine smile this time. She’d never be able to control Adam the way she had controlled Charles and Frank. She’d never induce him to worship her or beg for her favors. Nor would she be able to frighten him with her temper.
And he’d never indulge her shrewd but unethical business deals the way Rhett had.
But there was something to be said for a man who wouldn’t indulge you or let you order him about.
“I won’t cheat anyone,” she promised.
Adam grinned. “In that case, I’m sure we’ll find plenty of Ponderosa business to keep you occupied. Now I’d better take my leave of you,” he said as he kissed her on the cheek again.
She frowned at him. “Don’t you mean to kiss me properly?”
He laughed at that. “I will,” he told her. “Just as soon as your divorce is final.”
LINK TO PART SIX
This next one is of a contrite Kirk--he's apologizing to Bones for chewing him out without cause:
And here's Bones with Eleen (who's played by Julie Newmar--yup, Catwoman.) She's not thrilled to be pregnant, but she's starting to like the doctor's tender care:
Hey, what do you know? McCoy's embarrassed that Spock saw him holding Eleen's hand:
Ok, now Spock and Bones are over their little tiff and cooperating once more:
And here's McCoy's famous line: "I'm a doctor, not an escalator!" You tell 'em, Bones:
Spock and McCoy get married and live happily ever after as they raise their new son. They name the kid 'James' after their best friend. Kirk is honored and as happy as a clam. With McCoy's help, he patiently teaches Spock to say "Oochy-woochy-coochy-coo," to the baby. 
I love this scene of The Immunity Syndrome--Spock asks McCoy to wish him luck before undertaking a likely suicidal mission. (Ok, there's a bit more to it than that...but that's the gist of it.) There's a good review of the remastered episode here.)
A few weeks ago, after the 'Sunday Minyan' gathering at my synagogue, some of the guys sat down and started talking about why, technically speaking, we should be holding certain tassels of our prayer shawls during a blessing called the Baruch She'amar. This spiralled into a fascinating discussion regarding the origins of said blessing, certain Kabbalistic interpretations of it and the profound meaning behind all of this.
