Ok, this oughtta warm the heart of both Star Trek fans and Bonanza fans. This clip is from a special about the western tv show Bonanza. It highlights many of its famous gueststars, including three from the Enterprise: Leonard Nimoy, James Doohan and DeForest Kelley.
Best of all, De Kelley has a grand pre-Star Trek line. Ben Cartwright says to him, "Well, you're a doctor, aren't you?" And Kelley's character answers, "I'm not a doctor. I'm a condemned murderer."
Showing posts with label Bonanza. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bonanza. Show all posts
Friday, January 16, 2009
Thursday, September 11, 2008
The Monstrosity, Part Twenty-One
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: R
~
I didn’t go straight to bed after I got my family settled. I walked into Drew’s room instead—quietly, in case he was sleeping.
He was. I could see him by the shuttered lantern I’d carried into his room. He was sleeping on his side, more-or-less on top of his covers, facing the wall. He appeared so peaceful and innocent that I couldn’t help but smile at the picture he made.
I should have just left, but I leaned up against his doorframe instead, watching him. He stirred in his sleep as if he felt my gaze. Then he rolled over to face me.
“Adam?” he asked in a groggy voice. “Is that you?”
“Yes,” I confirmed.
“Com’ere,” he muttered.
I set the lantern down and walked over to his bed. I took a seat on the edge of it, allowing my hand to rest nonchalantly on his shoulder.
“Family settled in?” he asked.
“They’re fine,” I assured him. “Thank you for inviting them here.” I paused and cocked my head at him. “You didn’t have to leave us—I wouldn’t have minded you staying.”
He managed a shrug. “I asked them here—don’t expect me to grace them with my presence too. I’m not one for playing the grand host.”
I smiled a little at that. “I know. But—well, I think you’ll like them well enough once you get to know them, Drew.”
He propped himself up on his elbow and stared in my direction. “Why do you care if I like them or not?”
I shrugged. “I’ve sort of adopted you as another brother, remember? It’d be nice if you got along with my Pa and Hoss and Joe.”
He shook his head at me. “There’s no chance of that. I despise them.”
I rolled my eyes. “Why?” I demanded. “You scarcely know them.”
“I know,” he owned. “It’s not them—it’s just the fact that they have a better claim on you than I do. This is sheer, petty jealousy on my part, Adam.”
I rolled my eyes again. “Well, you’re honest; I’ll give you that. But there’s no cause for you to be jealous. If you give them a chance, Drew, they’ll welcome you into the family.”
He snorted. “No thank you. I have my brother and I have you—I don’t want any more family than that.”
“Drew,” I said softly, reaching out to tousle his hair, “for my sake, will you keep us company tomorrow?”
It was his turn to roll his eyes. “Sweet Jesus—is it that damned important to you?”
“Yes.”
He swore under his breath. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll play the dutiful host tomorrow—but you owe me.”
I grinned down at him. “What do I owe you?”
“That’s an interesting question,” he mused. He furrowed his brow as he thought the matter over. “A play,” he decided. “There’s one in town now, isn’t there? I want you to accompany me to it. Your box or mine—I don’t care which.”
“Still determined to force me out in public?”
He nodded. “It’s good for you. Don’t worry—if some girl tries to press her attentions on you again I’ll swat her away with my cane.”
I laughed at that and tousled his hair again. “All right,” I said. “You have a deal.”
I meant to take my leave of him then, but he caught my hand in his own. “Did you tell your family about Kane?” he asked.
I hesitated at that, but at length I managed to answer. “Yes,” I said. “I blurted it out. It probably doesn’t matter; I think they had already guessed. And they don’t seem ashamed of me or ready to disinherit me.”
“Pity. If they did, I’d have you all to myself.”
I laughed again—but then my face grew serious. “My Pa looked like he aged ten years once he knew for certain what Kane did to me. He was…he was stricken.”
“If you learn to live with this, Adam, he will too. And so will your brothers.”
“I know,” I said. “But tell me how to do that, Drew.”
“Be more charitable toward yourself,” he advised. “You’re not less of man just because Kane raped you. And stop letting Kane dominate your thoughts—in the end, Adam, he was just some poor mad devil who wanted to die in the desert.”
“You expect me to have compassion for him?”
He shook his head. “Not compassion—just perspective. You’re making him out to be more than he was, Adam. He wasn’t a demon from hell. He was just a crazy, suicidal brute.”
He paused and groped for my arm. When he found it, his grip was almost painful.
“Kane can’t do anything to you now, Adam,” he continued. “He’s dead. He doesn’t have any power over you—except what you give him.”
He released me then and sank back down onto his mattress. “Now get out,” he told me. “Unless you mean to spend the night with me.”
I managed a slight grin at that as I stood up. “Good night, Drew.”
He didn’t answer me. He just rolled back over so that he was facing the wall again.
I walked across the hall to my room, letting his words run through my mind. He was right about my family. If I could bury Kane—if I could keep him in my past, where he belonged—then Pa wouldn’t feel as though he failed me. He wouldn’t have that stricken look. And Hoss and Joe wouldn’t be crucifying themselves for not finding me sooner.
I tugged off my cravat, undid the buttons of my waistcoat and then sat down on my bed. But I wasn’t tired. And I didn’t particularly care to be alone.
Before Kane, I would have just put up with this sense of alienation that seemed to be strangling me. And I would have ignored it. But I was getting quite selfish in the aftermath of that damned desert—I knew I wanted to be with someone who understood something of what I’d gone through. So I sighed and walked back across the hall, back into Drew’s room. I crossed over to him without ceremony and sat down on the edge of his bed again.
He heard me. “Is that you?” he mumbled.
“Yeah,” I admitted, shifting my position so that I could lean back against the headboard. “You don’t mind if I sit here for a while, do you?”
He yawned. “No, I don’t mind,” he managed, shaking his head.
And that was an end to the matter. He didn’t even turn around to face me….and soon I heard his breaths grow deep and even. He had fallen back asleep. I smiled at that. He understood me well enough to realize that I just wanted another human presence—I didn’t require conversation.
I cringe when I look back at that moment. Now I can see just what shameful advantage I was taking of Drew. He was so much in love with me that he wanted my company on any terms I offered—and I was so desperate for someone who understood me that I didn’t mind toying with him.
And that’s what I was doing—toying with him. I wasn’t able to be his lover, but I wasn’t willing to keep the boundaries of a normal friendship either. All I can say in my defense is that I never led him on: he knew what a sorry state I was in. I suppose that’s why he put up with such treatment.
Or perhaps he just didn’t realize that he deserved better.
Four years have passed since that night. I’m sitting up in the room that serves as our library as I write this. Drew is sitting opposite me, curled up in one of the chairs, sound asleep.
But we’re not alone. Reuben Cobbs is here too—he’s still awake, sorting through some paperwork before he turns in for the night.
Reuben Cobbs: I should have mentioned him earlier, I suppose—but back when I was staying at the Monstrosity with Drew, I had no notion that Reuben would force his way into our lives.
I said earlier that Drew and I had reached such an understanding that I didn’t believe anything could come between our friendship. I was wrong. Reuben blasted his way between us...when he riddled Drew’s brother with bullets.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me take a step back.
There’s not much to tell of the next day. Drew was all politeness to my father and brothers. It was a cool politeness, however—one that did not encourage any sort of friendship. I couldn’t fault him for his behavior as a host, but he certainly didn’t help my family warm up to him. Their pointed looks told me that they were still baffled by my affection for him.
I’ll just add that their bafflement has not decreased over these past four years. Drew loves very few people; I can count them on one hand. He has little use for the rest of the world. The best I can hope for is that his resentment and jealousy of my Pa and brothers will eventually fade into indifference. But that hasn’t happened yet.
I couldn’t even explain his coolness to them. I couldn’t tell them that he was motivated by jealousy. In some ways, my family is distressingly bourgeois. If I told them that Drew was carrying a torch for me, they’d have been scandalized.
I didn’t discuss Kane with my Pa or Hoss or Joe the next day—or anytime over the next few months. (I did discuss him with them again, and at much greater length, but that came later.) But that night when I was sitting on Drew’s bed, watching Drew sleep, I reached a decision.
Kane was not haunting me alone. He was affecting my family. I’d felt my Pa’s eyes on me ever since my time in the desert. There were times, I think, when he feared for my sanity. And I had overheard snatches of whispered conversations between my Pa and my brothers—wondering what to do as I steadfastly refused to see anyone apart from themselves and a few hands.
Until now, I had largely ignored what was happening to my family—and what my obsession with Kane’s memory was doing to them. It had to stop.
At least Drew had gotten me back into town and out into public. But that was only half the battle. Drew said I had to learn to put Kane into perspective—to stop giving his memory so much power over me.
He was right. And after that night, I started to do just that.
Don't mistake me. I wasn't able to bury Kane overnight—but at least my life fell into a comfortable routine. I began behaving more like myself. I started handling most of the Ponderosa’s business again and to that end I spent plenty of time in town. And so I lived at the Monstrosity at least one week out of every four.
That suited Drew and me quite well. We managed to get our hands on some samples of Braille’s work and, using it, I was able to teach him to read. In fact, once he got over his embarrassment—he was still ashamed of his illiteracy—Drew soaked up his lessons. Our only problem became finding more works in Braille’s system.
When I was on the Ponderosa, I generally worked with either Hoss and Joe or with a few select hands. One of those hands was a boy I had hired myself—Reuben Cobbs.
I liked Reuben. He was about Joe’s age and, like Joe, he was a charmer as far as the ladies went. In fact, I ended up breaking up a fight between Joe and Reuben over some girl or other. But Reuben was also a hard working kid who was anxious to prove himself to me. He was new to ranch work, but he learned quick. And he was willing and eager, even when it came to grueling duties. So, overall, I was happy to have him on my team.
However, Reuben never told me that he had a sister. A sister who, it turned out, was involved with Jack Clayton. That’s how the trouble started—the trouble that ended in Jack’s death and a fierce enmity between myself and Drew.
He was. I could see him by the shuttered lantern I’d carried into his room. He was sleeping on his side, more-or-less on top of his covers, facing the wall. He appeared so peaceful and innocent that I couldn’t help but smile at the picture he made.
I should have just left, but I leaned up against his doorframe instead, watching him. He stirred in his sleep as if he felt my gaze. Then he rolled over to face me.
“Adam?” he asked in a groggy voice. “Is that you?”
“Yes,” I confirmed.
“Com’ere,” he muttered.
I set the lantern down and walked over to his bed. I took a seat on the edge of it, allowing my hand to rest nonchalantly on his shoulder.
“Family settled in?” he asked.
“They’re fine,” I assured him. “Thank you for inviting them here.” I paused and cocked my head at him. “You didn’t have to leave us—I wouldn’t have minded you staying.”
He managed a shrug. “I asked them here—don’t expect me to grace them with my presence too. I’m not one for playing the grand host.”
I smiled a little at that. “I know. But—well, I think you’ll like them well enough once you get to know them, Drew.”
He propped himself up on his elbow and stared in my direction. “Why do you care if I like them or not?”
I shrugged. “I’ve sort of adopted you as another brother, remember? It’d be nice if you got along with my Pa and Hoss and Joe.”
He shook his head at me. “There’s no chance of that. I despise them.”
I rolled my eyes. “Why?” I demanded. “You scarcely know them.”
“I know,” he owned. “It’s not them—it’s just the fact that they have a better claim on you than I do. This is sheer, petty jealousy on my part, Adam.”
I rolled my eyes again. “Well, you’re honest; I’ll give you that. But there’s no cause for you to be jealous. If you give them a chance, Drew, they’ll welcome you into the family.”
He snorted. “No thank you. I have my brother and I have you—I don’t want any more family than that.”
“Drew,” I said softly, reaching out to tousle his hair, “for my sake, will you keep us company tomorrow?”
It was his turn to roll his eyes. “Sweet Jesus—is it that damned important to you?”
“Yes.”
He swore under his breath. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll play the dutiful host tomorrow—but you owe me.”
I grinned down at him. “What do I owe you?”
“That’s an interesting question,” he mused. He furrowed his brow as he thought the matter over. “A play,” he decided. “There’s one in town now, isn’t there? I want you to accompany me to it. Your box or mine—I don’t care which.”
“Still determined to force me out in public?”
He nodded. “It’s good for you. Don’t worry—if some girl tries to press her attentions on you again I’ll swat her away with my cane.”
I laughed at that and tousled his hair again. “All right,” I said. “You have a deal.”
I meant to take my leave of him then, but he caught my hand in his own. “Did you tell your family about Kane?” he asked.
I hesitated at that, but at length I managed to answer. “Yes,” I said. “I blurted it out. It probably doesn’t matter; I think they had already guessed. And they don’t seem ashamed of me or ready to disinherit me.”
“Pity. If they did, I’d have you all to myself.”
I laughed again—but then my face grew serious. “My Pa looked like he aged ten years once he knew for certain what Kane did to me. He was…he was stricken.”
“If you learn to live with this, Adam, he will too. And so will your brothers.”
“I know,” I said. “But tell me how to do that, Drew.”
“Be more charitable toward yourself,” he advised. “You’re not less of man just because Kane raped you. And stop letting Kane dominate your thoughts—in the end, Adam, he was just some poor mad devil who wanted to die in the desert.”
“You expect me to have compassion for him?”
He shook his head. “Not compassion—just perspective. You’re making him out to be more than he was, Adam. He wasn’t a demon from hell. He was just a crazy, suicidal brute.”
He paused and groped for my arm. When he found it, his grip was almost painful.
“Kane can’t do anything to you now, Adam,” he continued. “He’s dead. He doesn’t have any power over you—except what you give him.”
He released me then and sank back down onto his mattress. “Now get out,” he told me. “Unless you mean to spend the night with me.”
I managed a slight grin at that as I stood up. “Good night, Drew.”
He didn’t answer me. He just rolled back over so that he was facing the wall again.
I walked across the hall to my room, letting his words run through my mind. He was right about my family. If I could bury Kane—if I could keep him in my past, where he belonged—then Pa wouldn’t feel as though he failed me. He wouldn’t have that stricken look. And Hoss and Joe wouldn’t be crucifying themselves for not finding me sooner.
I tugged off my cravat, undid the buttons of my waistcoat and then sat down on my bed. But I wasn’t tired. And I didn’t particularly care to be alone.
Before Kane, I would have just put up with this sense of alienation that seemed to be strangling me. And I would have ignored it. But I was getting quite selfish in the aftermath of that damned desert—I knew I wanted to be with someone who understood something of what I’d gone through. So I sighed and walked back across the hall, back into Drew’s room. I crossed over to him without ceremony and sat down on the edge of his bed again.
He heard me. “Is that you?” he mumbled.
“Yeah,” I admitted, shifting my position so that I could lean back against the headboard. “You don’t mind if I sit here for a while, do you?”
He yawned. “No, I don’t mind,” he managed, shaking his head.
And that was an end to the matter. He didn’t even turn around to face me….and soon I heard his breaths grow deep and even. He had fallen back asleep. I smiled at that. He understood me well enough to realize that I just wanted another human presence—I didn’t require conversation.
I cringe when I look back at that moment. Now I can see just what shameful advantage I was taking of Drew. He was so much in love with me that he wanted my company on any terms I offered—and I was so desperate for someone who understood me that I didn’t mind toying with him.
And that’s what I was doing—toying with him. I wasn’t able to be his lover, but I wasn’t willing to keep the boundaries of a normal friendship either. All I can say in my defense is that I never led him on: he knew what a sorry state I was in. I suppose that’s why he put up with such treatment.
Or perhaps he just didn’t realize that he deserved better.
Four years have passed since that night. I’m sitting up in the room that serves as our library as I write this. Drew is sitting opposite me, curled up in one of the chairs, sound asleep.
But we’re not alone. Reuben Cobbs is here too—he’s still awake, sorting through some paperwork before he turns in for the night.
Reuben Cobbs: I should have mentioned him earlier, I suppose—but back when I was staying at the Monstrosity with Drew, I had no notion that Reuben would force his way into our lives.
I said earlier that Drew and I had reached such an understanding that I didn’t believe anything could come between our friendship. I was wrong. Reuben blasted his way between us...when he riddled Drew’s brother with bullets.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me take a step back.
There’s not much to tell of the next day. Drew was all politeness to my father and brothers. It was a cool politeness, however—one that did not encourage any sort of friendship. I couldn’t fault him for his behavior as a host, but he certainly didn’t help my family warm up to him. Their pointed looks told me that they were still baffled by my affection for him.
I’ll just add that their bafflement has not decreased over these past four years. Drew loves very few people; I can count them on one hand. He has little use for the rest of the world. The best I can hope for is that his resentment and jealousy of my Pa and brothers will eventually fade into indifference. But that hasn’t happened yet.
I couldn’t even explain his coolness to them. I couldn’t tell them that he was motivated by jealousy. In some ways, my family is distressingly bourgeois. If I told them that Drew was carrying a torch for me, they’d have been scandalized.
I didn’t discuss Kane with my Pa or Hoss or Joe the next day—or anytime over the next few months. (I did discuss him with them again, and at much greater length, but that came later.) But that night when I was sitting on Drew’s bed, watching Drew sleep, I reached a decision.
Kane was not haunting me alone. He was affecting my family. I’d felt my Pa’s eyes on me ever since my time in the desert. There were times, I think, when he feared for my sanity. And I had overheard snatches of whispered conversations between my Pa and my brothers—wondering what to do as I steadfastly refused to see anyone apart from themselves and a few hands.
Until now, I had largely ignored what was happening to my family—and what my obsession with Kane’s memory was doing to them. It had to stop.
At least Drew had gotten me back into town and out into public. But that was only half the battle. Drew said I had to learn to put Kane into perspective—to stop giving his memory so much power over me.
He was right. And after that night, I started to do just that.
Don't mistake me. I wasn't able to bury Kane overnight—but at least my life fell into a comfortable routine. I began behaving more like myself. I started handling most of the Ponderosa’s business again and to that end I spent plenty of time in town. And so I lived at the Monstrosity at least one week out of every four.
That suited Drew and me quite well. We managed to get our hands on some samples of Braille’s work and, using it, I was able to teach him to read. In fact, once he got over his embarrassment—he was still ashamed of his illiteracy—Drew soaked up his lessons. Our only problem became finding more works in Braille’s system.
When I was on the Ponderosa, I generally worked with either Hoss and Joe or with a few select hands. One of those hands was a boy I had hired myself—Reuben Cobbs.
I liked Reuben. He was about Joe’s age and, like Joe, he was a charmer as far as the ladies went. In fact, I ended up breaking up a fight between Joe and Reuben over some girl or other. But Reuben was also a hard working kid who was anxious to prove himself to me. He was new to ranch work, but he learned quick. And he was willing and eager, even when it came to grueling duties. So, overall, I was happy to have him on my team.
However, Reuben never told me that he had a sister. A sister who, it turned out, was involved with Jack Clayton. That’s how the trouble started—the trouble that ended in Jack’s death and a fierce enmity between myself and Drew.
Monday, August 18, 2008
The Monstrosity, Part Twenty
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: R
LINK TO PART ONE
~
Drew was polite enough to meet and greet my family—but he excused himself soon afterward, leaving Jack to play the host. But Jack soon bid us goodnight as well. That left the four of us alone in the library, although I knew that a footman was waiting up to show my father and my brothers to their rooms.
It was a tactful move on Jack and Drew’s part—they wanted to give me time alone with my family. But I was disappointed in Drew. I would have preferred that he remain with us…and I didn’t think it was tact alone that had induced him to turn in so soon after my family arrived.
No, I was pretty sure that his love for me wasn’t going to translate easily into a liking for my family. And that annoyed me. Even though I couldn’t take him for a lover, he still wanted to play an important part in my life. And I wanted that as well. Was it too much to ask that he tolerate my father and brothers?
But I wasn’t being fair…and I at least I had the grace to realize it. Neither trust nor liking came easily to Drew. And, to his credit, he had invited my family here because he knew that I needed their company tonight. I could hardly expect more than that from him.
So I settled down, cross-legged on the floor, near the fireplace without complaint. Joe sat next to me, stretching his legs out in front of him. My Pa took a chair nearby and Hoss to the larger chair opposite him.
For a long moment, no one said anything. Joe broke the silence.
“Well, it was an interesting night,” he said, flashing me a teasing smile.
I gave him a wry grin in return. “My behavior was—well, it was appalling,” I managed. “Thank you for doing what you could to salvage my reputation as a civilized man.”
“I think you’re being too hard on yourself, son,” Pa said with a surprising (and comforting) nonchalance in his voice. “It sounds like much ado about nothing—you may have overreacted to the girl’s forwardness, but it was just an accident that she fell backwards.”
“Besides,” Hoss piped up, “no one inside knew exactly what happened. And now Jack and Joe have everyone convinced that the whole thing was just a misunderstanding. And I reckon the chit don’t mind—that saves her reputation too.”
“Go tomorrow to the house and offer up your apologies to the hostess—and her daughter—for the ‘misunderstanding,’” Pa advised. “That ought to settle the whole affair.”
I cringed at that—truth be told, I never wanted to see the woman or her daughter again. But I managed a nod. “I will,” I promised.
We all fell silent after that. Once again, Joe was the first to speak up. He was determined to keep a conversation going.
“You know—this ‘Monstrosity’ ain’t so bad on the inside. I think I like it.”
I gave him another grin—a genuine grin this time. “That’s because your taste is deplorable.”
He chuckled at that. “Probably,” he owned. “But I do like living high…I think I’m going to enjoy my stay here tonight.”
Hoss snorted and glanced at me. “But I’ll bet you can’t wait to come home, older brother.”
I thought that over. “The house is a nightmare,” I owned, “but I don’t mind staying here. Drew’s become a good friend; I enjoy his company. In fact, I’m going to stay here from now on whenever business brings me to town. The International House will survive without my patronage.”
Hoss raised his eyebrows at me. “I never figured on seeing you and Drew Clayton become friends,” he commented. “But I have to admit that he’s not as much a bastard as I thought. He handled things well tonight.”
“I think he’s still a bastard,” Joe argued. “He just happens to hold Adam in high regard, that’s all.”
Pa rolled his eyes. “That’s enough, both of you. Drew was kind enough to invite us here tonight—I won’t have you two insulting our host.” He paused and turned to me. “Adam, I’m sure Drew will be glad for your company when you’re in town. But are sure you won’t be imposing on Jack?”
I nodded. “Jack’s the one who suggested that I treat his house as a second home. He wants another pair of eyes on Drew in case of an emergency—this place is difficult for a blind man to navigate.”
“I can imagine,” he agreed. “Well, then there’s no harm done.”
Joe, however, was frowning. “That means we’re going to have to invite them to visit at the Ponderosa, though, doesn’t it?”
I shrugged. “That would be the polite thing to do, yes.”
Hoss made a face. “Drew’s bad enough—but can you imagine having to put up with Jack’s comments about our home? He’ll find a hundred ways to be snide about how it ain’t fancy enough.”
“Yeah,” Joe added. “And how we’re not quality—as if he’s some blue-blood!”
Pa narrowed his eyes at the pair of them. “What did I just tell you two? You’ll keep civil tongues in your heads where our hosts are concerned.”
His voice brooked no argument. Hoss and Joe both looked chagrined as they stammered out their apologies.
Pa turned back to me. “Please invite both Jack and Drew to dinner with us—and to spend a couple of weeks with us, if they please.”
“I will,” I promised. “I’m sure they’ll come for dinner, but I doubt Jack will want to stay. Drew may or may not, depending on his business affairs here in town.”
That satisfied Pa, but Hoss and Joe still looked less than thrilled. I sighed to myself. It was going to be just as hard to get my brothers to accept Drew as it would to get Drew to accept them.
Hoss, meanwhile, was shaking his head at me. “Just what do you see in Drew Clayton?” he asked. “You two fight like hell over that mine you own together. You survive a stage wreck together, but then Drew goes and ruins some guy just to annoy you. And then you two get into a fistfight in our yard—never mind that he’s blind—and then you’re best friends afterward. What’s going on?”
I smiled at that summation of my friendship with Drew. But it took me a long time to answer.
“I admire Drew,” I said at length. “He can be petty and cruel—I’m not denying that—but when he decides that he loves someone there’s very little he won’t do on their behalf…and very little he won’t forgive them. And I admire his guts and determination when it comes to dealing with his blindness.”
“But there’s more,” Joe objected. “You’ve probably known all that for a while. Why are you such good friends now?”
I stared at him for a long moment, knowing that Pa and Hoss were also staring at me. “I can talk to him about Kane,” I admitted. “Drew—well, he’s had a number of difficulties in his own life. So I can tell him what happened between me and Kane without shocking him.”
There was an uneasy silence at that. This time Hoss broke it.
“Adam—are you saying that it’s easier for you to confide in someone like Drew than your own family?”
My eyes flashed at that. “Do you want me to confide in you, Hoss? Do you want to know the sorted details? Do you want to hear about the ways Kane tortured me or how he raped me?”
The silence that fell this time was nothing like the ones before. This wasn’t an awkward silence…it was a horrified silence. I knew then that Pa’s stricken face was going to haunt me forever. God damn it—why couldn’t I have kept my mouth shut? What sort of selfish bastard was I?
I sighed again. Well, now they knew. I’m pretty sure they had already guessed—but they’d never be able to console themselves again by hoping that Kane hadn’t been as twisted as they thought.
I broke the silence this time. “As I said, Drew’s had his own difficulties in the past. I’m not saying they were the same as mine—they weren’t—but he’s…he’s not easily shocked. So it’s easier to talk it out with him.”
Almost before I realized it, Joe’s arms were around me, nearly crushing me. “You talk it out with whoever you please, Adam,” he told me. “Just know that we can stand to hear it too…if you ever need us to.”
I managed to return his hug at that—I think I even rested my head on his shoulder. But when he finally released me, I still had to face Hoss and Pa.
They weren’t disgusted by me—they didn’t despise me for allowing such a thing to happen. I know there was no rational way for them to blame me for what Kane did, but I suppose some part of me had been afraid that they wouldn’t be able to help themselves. I was convinced that they would view me as less a man.
But that wasn’t the case. And yet I’m not sure if their reaction wasn’t worse. They were both angry on my behalf—but it was an impotent anger, for Kane was long dead. And Pa, especially…stricken is the right word. He looked ten years older now than he had a moment ago.
I swore under my breath. I should never have spoken up. There was no reason for him to ever know.
“Let’s get some rest,” I said. “Pa, I’m ok. Sooner or later I’ll be able to consign Kane to my past—and he won’t be haunting me. It’s just…it’s just going to take time.”
I was borrowing Drew’s words now. I didn’t believe that I’d ever get past Kane—but Drew did. And the best thing I could do for my family was to adopt his optimism.
Pa managed a nod, as did Hoss. But Joe—God bless Joe. He put his arms back around me and pressed his forehead to mine. “You will,” he agreed. “And if Drew can help you do that…well, I’ll love him just like a brother for the rest of my life. Even if I still want to throttle him.”
I laughed a little. “Thanks, Joe,” I said.
And with that I returned his embrace and held him for a long time.
LINK TO PART TWENTY-ONE
Genre: Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: R
LINK TO PART ONE
~
Drew was polite enough to meet and greet my family—but he excused himself soon afterward, leaving Jack to play the host. But Jack soon bid us goodnight as well. That left the four of us alone in the library, although I knew that a footman was waiting up to show my father and my brothers to their rooms.
It was a tactful move on Jack and Drew’s part—they wanted to give me time alone with my family. But I was disappointed in Drew. I would have preferred that he remain with us…and I didn’t think it was tact alone that had induced him to turn in so soon after my family arrived.
No, I was pretty sure that his love for me wasn’t going to translate easily into a liking for my family. And that annoyed me. Even though I couldn’t take him for a lover, he still wanted to play an important part in my life. And I wanted that as well. Was it too much to ask that he tolerate my father and brothers?
But I wasn’t being fair…and I at least I had the grace to realize it. Neither trust nor liking came easily to Drew. And, to his credit, he had invited my family here because he knew that I needed their company tonight. I could hardly expect more than that from him.
So I settled down, cross-legged on the floor, near the fireplace without complaint. Joe sat next to me, stretching his legs out in front of him. My Pa took a chair nearby and Hoss to the larger chair opposite him.
For a long moment, no one said anything. Joe broke the silence.
“Well, it was an interesting night,” he said, flashing me a teasing smile.
I gave him a wry grin in return. “My behavior was—well, it was appalling,” I managed. “Thank you for doing what you could to salvage my reputation as a civilized man.”
“I think you’re being too hard on yourself, son,” Pa said with a surprising (and comforting) nonchalance in his voice. “It sounds like much ado about nothing—you may have overreacted to the girl’s forwardness, but it was just an accident that she fell backwards.”
“Besides,” Hoss piped up, “no one inside knew exactly what happened. And now Jack and Joe have everyone convinced that the whole thing was just a misunderstanding. And I reckon the chit don’t mind—that saves her reputation too.”
“Go tomorrow to the house and offer up your apologies to the hostess—and her daughter—for the ‘misunderstanding,’” Pa advised. “That ought to settle the whole affair.”
I cringed at that—truth be told, I never wanted to see the woman or her daughter again. But I managed a nod. “I will,” I promised.
We all fell silent after that. Once again, Joe was the first to speak up. He was determined to keep a conversation going.
“You know—this ‘Monstrosity’ ain’t so bad on the inside. I think I like it.”
I gave him another grin—a genuine grin this time. “That’s because your taste is deplorable.”
He chuckled at that. “Probably,” he owned. “But I do like living high…I think I’m going to enjoy my stay here tonight.”
Hoss snorted and glanced at me. “But I’ll bet you can’t wait to come home, older brother.”
I thought that over. “The house is a nightmare,” I owned, “but I don’t mind staying here. Drew’s become a good friend; I enjoy his company. In fact, I’m going to stay here from now on whenever business brings me to town. The International House will survive without my patronage.”
Hoss raised his eyebrows at me. “I never figured on seeing you and Drew Clayton become friends,” he commented. “But I have to admit that he’s not as much a bastard as I thought. He handled things well tonight.”
“I think he’s still a bastard,” Joe argued. “He just happens to hold Adam in high regard, that’s all.”
Pa rolled his eyes. “That’s enough, both of you. Drew was kind enough to invite us here tonight—I won’t have you two insulting our host.” He paused and turned to me. “Adam, I’m sure Drew will be glad for your company when you’re in town. But are sure you won’t be imposing on Jack?”
I nodded. “Jack’s the one who suggested that I treat his house as a second home. He wants another pair of eyes on Drew in case of an emergency—this place is difficult for a blind man to navigate.”
“I can imagine,” he agreed. “Well, then there’s no harm done.”
Joe, however, was frowning. “That means we’re going to have to invite them to visit at the Ponderosa, though, doesn’t it?”
I shrugged. “That would be the polite thing to do, yes.”
Hoss made a face. “Drew’s bad enough—but can you imagine having to put up with Jack’s comments about our home? He’ll find a hundred ways to be snide about how it ain’t fancy enough.”
“Yeah,” Joe added. “And how we’re not quality—as if he’s some blue-blood!”
Pa narrowed his eyes at the pair of them. “What did I just tell you two? You’ll keep civil tongues in your heads where our hosts are concerned.”
His voice brooked no argument. Hoss and Joe both looked chagrined as they stammered out their apologies.
Pa turned back to me. “Please invite both Jack and Drew to dinner with us—and to spend a couple of weeks with us, if they please.”
“I will,” I promised. “I’m sure they’ll come for dinner, but I doubt Jack will want to stay. Drew may or may not, depending on his business affairs here in town.”
That satisfied Pa, but Hoss and Joe still looked less than thrilled. I sighed to myself. It was going to be just as hard to get my brothers to accept Drew as it would to get Drew to accept them.
Hoss, meanwhile, was shaking his head at me. “Just what do you see in Drew Clayton?” he asked. “You two fight like hell over that mine you own together. You survive a stage wreck together, but then Drew goes and ruins some guy just to annoy you. And then you two get into a fistfight in our yard—never mind that he’s blind—and then you’re best friends afterward. What’s going on?”
I smiled at that summation of my friendship with Drew. But it took me a long time to answer.
“I admire Drew,” I said at length. “He can be petty and cruel—I’m not denying that—but when he decides that he loves someone there’s very little he won’t do on their behalf…and very little he won’t forgive them. And I admire his guts and determination when it comes to dealing with his blindness.”
“But there’s more,” Joe objected. “You’ve probably known all that for a while. Why are you such good friends now?”
I stared at him for a long moment, knowing that Pa and Hoss were also staring at me. “I can talk to him about Kane,” I admitted. “Drew—well, he’s had a number of difficulties in his own life. So I can tell him what happened between me and Kane without shocking him.”
There was an uneasy silence at that. This time Hoss broke it.
“Adam—are you saying that it’s easier for you to confide in someone like Drew than your own family?”
My eyes flashed at that. “Do you want me to confide in you, Hoss? Do you want to know the sorted details? Do you want to hear about the ways Kane tortured me or how he raped me?”
The silence that fell this time was nothing like the ones before. This wasn’t an awkward silence…it was a horrified silence. I knew then that Pa’s stricken face was going to haunt me forever. God damn it—why couldn’t I have kept my mouth shut? What sort of selfish bastard was I?
I sighed again. Well, now they knew. I’m pretty sure they had already guessed—but they’d never be able to console themselves again by hoping that Kane hadn’t been as twisted as they thought.
I broke the silence this time. “As I said, Drew’s had his own difficulties in the past. I’m not saying they were the same as mine—they weren’t—but he’s…he’s not easily shocked. So it’s easier to talk it out with him.”
Almost before I realized it, Joe’s arms were around me, nearly crushing me. “You talk it out with whoever you please, Adam,” he told me. “Just know that we can stand to hear it too…if you ever need us to.”
I managed to return his hug at that—I think I even rested my head on his shoulder. But when he finally released me, I still had to face Hoss and Pa.
They weren’t disgusted by me—they didn’t despise me for allowing such a thing to happen. I know there was no rational way for them to blame me for what Kane did, but I suppose some part of me had been afraid that they wouldn’t be able to help themselves. I was convinced that they would view me as less a man.
But that wasn’t the case. And yet I’m not sure if their reaction wasn’t worse. They were both angry on my behalf—but it was an impotent anger, for Kane was long dead. And Pa, especially…stricken is the right word. He looked ten years older now than he had a moment ago.
I swore under my breath. I should never have spoken up. There was no reason for him to ever know.
“Let’s get some rest,” I said. “Pa, I’m ok. Sooner or later I’ll be able to consign Kane to my past—and he won’t be haunting me. It’s just…it’s just going to take time.”
I was borrowing Drew’s words now. I didn’t believe that I’d ever get past Kane—but Drew did. And the best thing I could do for my family was to adopt his optimism.
Pa managed a nod, as did Hoss. But Joe—God bless Joe. He put his arms back around me and pressed his forehead to mine. “You will,” he agreed. “And if Drew can help you do that…well, I’ll love him just like a brother for the rest of my life. Even if I still want to throttle him.”
I laughed a little. “Thanks, Joe,” I said.
And with that I returned his embrace and held him for a long time.
LINK TO PART TWENTY-ONE
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Tara at Dusk, Part Seven
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Fan Fiction Crossover (Bonanza-Gone With The Wind)
Rating: PG
Link to Part One
~
Scarlett opened her eyes drowsily. The first hint of sunlight was peeking through the hotel room window.
She was nestled into the crook of Adam’s arm. She smiled to herself, enjoying the warmth of him as she listened to him breathe. His breaths were deep and even, indicating that he was still asleep.
They had just spent their first night together as man and wife. It was strange to think that she was Mrs. Cartwright now, not Mrs. Butler.
In the back of her mind, she had thought that Rhett would somehow stop the ceremony. She had been counting on it.
And yet…yet, she was almost relieved that he hadn’t. She still wanted Rhett, of course, but she didn’t want to lose Adam.
Scarlett was not by nature a reflective person, so it didn’t occur to her that Adam might have replaced Rhett in her heart. In her mind there was no question that she still loved Rhett. But she liked Adam and enjoyed his company—and she knew she’d be content to spend the rest of her life with him.
Of course, she had to make certain adjustments to keep the peace with Adam. Terms that she’d used unthinkingly since childhood to describe blacks—terms like ‘darky’—got him hopping mad. And then there was that incident with Prissy. It happened just the other day.
That careless ninny had accidentally torn Ella’s best dress—the one that Scarlett meant her to wear for the wedding. Scarlett screamed at Prissy and threatened to wear out a birch on her.
But she should have known better than to make that threat in front of Adam. Adam never raised an eyebrow when Prissy’s mother, Dilcey, threatened the fool—that was a parent’s prerogative. But he didn’t think Scarlett had any right to do so.
He dismissed Prissy and Ella and then yanked Scarlett back over his knee. That was bad enough—but afterwards he subjected her to an interminable lecture. Scarlett snapped back at him, but in the end he managed to make her feel almost guilty about her treatment of Prissy.
But at least Adam wasn’t like some other Yankees—the ones who talked about equal rights for blacks and then all but fled in terror every time they saw a black person.
And Prissy was grown now anyway. In fact, she was going to marry one of the hands at Tara. So even if Pork and Dilcey came out west with their other children, Prissy would remain behind.
“What are you thinking about, Katie-Scarlett?” Adam asked suddenly, breaking into her thoughts. “I felt you stiffen up all of the sudden.”
Scarlett smiled and glanced up at him. “I didn’t know that you were awake,” she whispered. “I was thinking about how angry you were when I threatened Prissy—and how happy I am that she’s not coming west with us.”
Adam chuckled at that. “And if she were going to come out west? What then?”
She sighed. “Then she’d remain as Ella’s nanny, I suppose. I couldn’t just dismiss her, Adam—she is family, after all. You understand that, don’t you?”
“I understand,” he answered, stroking her hair. “Your broad definition of ‘family’—and your determination to take care of every member—is one of the things I admire about you.”
“What about your family?” she asked, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “Do you suppose your Pa will accept me?”
He caught her hand and kissed it. “I know he will,” he assured her. “He’ll blame me for the divorce—not you. Besides, Hoss and Little Joe have been working on him. By the time we reach the Ponderosa he’ll be happy to welcome a daughter-in-law and two grandchildren.”
She smiled contentedly at that. “Thank God—I don’t mind you taking the blame. In fact, I’ll tell your Pa that you just swept me off my feet and stole my poor little country girl’s heart.”
Adam laughed. “And are you going to bat your eyelashes like that?”
She nodded. “Of course! I’m going to twist your Pa around my little finger. What do you think of that?’
He kissed the top of her head. “I think I’m going to enjoy watching you try.”
*
A week later Adam and Scarlett stood at Tara, watching the sunset. Adam didn’t realize it, but they were standing just where Scarlett had stood on that far-off evening before the barbecue at Twelve Oaks—back before the war began, back when she had waited for her father to come pounding home from the Wilkes’ on his long-legged hunter.
He put his arm around Scarlett in much the same way as her father had and drank in the sounds and scents of the land—and the warm glow on Scarlett’s face.
He was not only seeing Tara at dusk, he realized. He was glimpsing a part of his wife that no other place could bring out. Scarlett might grow to love the Ponderosa, but it was Tara that birthed and shaped her.
At length they returned to the house, walking back in silence. Adam kissed Scarlett and watched her settle down on the porch. She would be content out here for another hour, he reckoned, so he decided to go inside in search of Mammy.
Mammy had scarcely given him the time of day since he’d arrived. She made her disapproval of Scarlett’s new marriage evident every time she muttered to herself or ‘harrumphed’ in their presence. Scarlett, in turn, had acted as if Mammy didn’t exist.
He found the old woman sitting in the parlor with some darning. Adam drew up a chair next to her. “Do you mind if I sit with you?” he asked.
He got another ‘harrumph’ as a reply. That wasn’t precisely a refusal, so Adam sat down.
They sat in silence for a time. Mammy was the one to break it.
“What does Pork think he’s going to do with himself in Virginia City?” she asked. “He don’t know nothing except how to be a butler and a valet—and you don’t need either on your Ponderosa.”
Adam shrugged. “Scarlett and I will set up our own house—with a servant’s house, I suppose. She’ll want Pork to continue as a butler. And Dilcey is an experienced nurse and midwife—she can always find work. Besides, I think they feel that their children will have more opportunities out west than in Georgia.”
Mammy responded to that by muttering under her breath against Dilcey. Apparently the two women had never gotten on.
“Well, even if you have a butler,” she said at length, turning her wizened, piercing eyes on him, “it ain’t going to turn you into quality. And neither is your thousand square miles of ranch. And your marriage will still be nothing but adultery. No woman has any business remarrying while her husband is still alive.”
Adam raised his eyebrows at her. “And how did you know that the Ponderosa is a thousand square miles?”
To his surprise Mammy grinned. “Mister Rhett came here just before the wedding,” she said. “He told me that the Cartwrights have their own empire out in Nevada and that you’ll take good care of my lamb. ‘Don’t give Scarlett any grief, Mammy,’ he said. ‘Adam Cartwright is a decent man.’”
Despite his dislike of Butler, Adam managed a smile. “I will do my best to take care of her, Ma’am. And I think she and the children will be happy.”
Mammy sighed. “I think so too, now that I’ve met you. I suppose if Scarlett had to commit adultery, it might as well be with you. Will Dilcey be the mammy to your children?”
Adam shrugged. “I hadn’t thought about it—I’m not used to the whole idea of a mammy. But you’re more than welcome on the Ponderosa. I know how much it would mean to Scarlett if you came with us.”
But Mammy shook her head at that. “No, sir, I’m too old and too fat to be traipsing out to Nevada,” she said with a flat finality in her voice. “Now when are you going to tell my lamb that your Ponderosa isn’t a pitiful little ranch?”
Adam grinned. “I’m not going to tell her—not unless she asks me straight out. I’ll wait until she sees it for herself.”
Mammy chuckled and looked over Adam with something akin to approval. “Good. You know just how to handle my lamb.”
*
Scarlett heard Adam walk back onto the porch. She smiled up at him as he took a seat beside her on the steps, and even in the dim lamplight she could see him return the smile.
He put his arm around her as she nestled her head against his shoulder. “Will has done a fine job with Tara,” she said. “I know that I’m leaving her in good hands.”
Adam kissed the top of her head. “Can you be happy away from this raw, red earth?”
She nodded. “Yes—I spend most of my time away from her already. All these years I’ve been living in Atlanta…but Adam, I wish that Bonnie were coming with us.”
Adam said nothing to that—what could he say?—but he tightened his grip on her and stroked her hair. Scarlett closed her eyes, grateful for his warmth and nearness, and pushed the thought of her dead daughter to the back of her mind.
But close on the heels of Bonnie came thoughts of her mother and Melly and even Charlie and Frank. Scarlett had lost so much in her twenty-eight years—suddenly she realized how silly it was that she and Mammy were wasting their time quarreling.
Adam must have read her thoughts. “I think Mammy is ready to make amends,” he informed her. “We’ll get eaten alive if we stay out here—why don’t you go in and talk to her?”
Scarlett smiled slyly at him. “Is that a polite request—or a thinly disguised command?”
“The latter,” he said with a wink.
Scarlett laughed, but then her face turned serious. “She won’t be here by the time we come back to visit, will she?”
“Probably not,” he answered softly.
She closed her eyes for a moment, but at length she nodded. “I’ll go speak with her. I suppose I’ll never forgive myself otherwise. But she’ll always believe that we’re living in sin.”
“I know,” Adam said. “But after reminding me that I’ll never be ‘quality,’ she did say that if you had to commit adultery, it might as well be with me.”
Scarlett’s eyes danced with amusement. “Then you must have impressed her,” she told him. “That’s as near as she’ll ever come to saying that she likes you.”
Adam chuckled at that. Scarlett realized, for the first time, how much she enjoyed his warm, rich baritone. She threw her arms around him and kissed him impulsively.
He returned her kiss with a hot, almost rough passion. Then he held her to him when they finally broke apart.
Scarlett sighed again with a rare feeling of contentment. How good it felt to be in his arms! Adam wasn’t Rhett and the Ponderosa wouldn’t be Tara—but somehow she could bear the thought of leaving both Rhett and Tara behind.
She smiled to herself, and in the last few minutes of twilight the raw red earth and the sweet, mossy smell of Tara seemed to fade—replaced by the cool, dark blue of Lake Tahoe and the sharp scent of ponderosa pine.
~The End~
Genre: Fan Fiction Crossover (Bonanza-Gone With The Wind)
Rating: PG
Link to Part One
~
Scarlett opened her eyes drowsily. The first hint of sunlight was peeking through the hotel room window.
She was nestled into the crook of Adam’s arm. She smiled to herself, enjoying the warmth of him as she listened to him breathe. His breaths were deep and even, indicating that he was still asleep.
They had just spent their first night together as man and wife. It was strange to think that she was Mrs. Cartwright now, not Mrs. Butler.
In the back of her mind, she had thought that Rhett would somehow stop the ceremony. She had been counting on it.
And yet…yet, she was almost relieved that he hadn’t. She still wanted Rhett, of course, but she didn’t want to lose Adam.
Scarlett was not by nature a reflective person, so it didn’t occur to her that Adam might have replaced Rhett in her heart. In her mind there was no question that she still loved Rhett. But she liked Adam and enjoyed his company—and she knew she’d be content to spend the rest of her life with him.
Of course, she had to make certain adjustments to keep the peace with Adam. Terms that she’d used unthinkingly since childhood to describe blacks—terms like ‘darky’—got him hopping mad. And then there was that incident with Prissy. It happened just the other day.
That careless ninny had accidentally torn Ella’s best dress—the one that Scarlett meant her to wear for the wedding. Scarlett screamed at Prissy and threatened to wear out a birch on her.
But she should have known better than to make that threat in front of Adam. Adam never raised an eyebrow when Prissy’s mother, Dilcey, threatened the fool—that was a parent’s prerogative. But he didn’t think Scarlett had any right to do so.
He dismissed Prissy and Ella and then yanked Scarlett back over his knee. That was bad enough—but afterwards he subjected her to an interminable lecture. Scarlett snapped back at him, but in the end he managed to make her feel almost guilty about her treatment of Prissy.
But at least Adam wasn’t like some other Yankees—the ones who talked about equal rights for blacks and then all but fled in terror every time they saw a black person.
And Prissy was grown now anyway. In fact, she was going to marry one of the hands at Tara. So even if Pork and Dilcey came out west with their other children, Prissy would remain behind.
“What are you thinking about, Katie-Scarlett?” Adam asked suddenly, breaking into her thoughts. “I felt you stiffen up all of the sudden.”
Scarlett smiled and glanced up at him. “I didn’t know that you were awake,” she whispered. “I was thinking about how angry you were when I threatened Prissy—and how happy I am that she’s not coming west with us.”
Adam chuckled at that. “And if she were going to come out west? What then?”
She sighed. “Then she’d remain as Ella’s nanny, I suppose. I couldn’t just dismiss her, Adam—she is family, after all. You understand that, don’t you?”
“I understand,” he answered, stroking her hair. “Your broad definition of ‘family’—and your determination to take care of every member—is one of the things I admire about you.”
“What about your family?” she asked, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “Do you suppose your Pa will accept me?”
He caught her hand and kissed it. “I know he will,” he assured her. “He’ll blame me for the divorce—not you. Besides, Hoss and Little Joe have been working on him. By the time we reach the Ponderosa he’ll be happy to welcome a daughter-in-law and two grandchildren.”
She smiled contentedly at that. “Thank God—I don’t mind you taking the blame. In fact, I’ll tell your Pa that you just swept me off my feet and stole my poor little country girl’s heart.”
Adam laughed. “And are you going to bat your eyelashes like that?”
She nodded. “Of course! I’m going to twist your Pa around my little finger. What do you think of that?’
He kissed the top of her head. “I think I’m going to enjoy watching you try.”
*
A week later Adam and Scarlett stood at Tara, watching the sunset. Adam didn’t realize it, but they were standing just where Scarlett had stood on that far-off evening before the barbecue at Twelve Oaks—back before the war began, back when she had waited for her father to come pounding home from the Wilkes’ on his long-legged hunter.
He put his arm around Scarlett in much the same way as her father had and drank in the sounds and scents of the land—and the warm glow on Scarlett’s face.
He was not only seeing Tara at dusk, he realized. He was glimpsing a part of his wife that no other place could bring out. Scarlett might grow to love the Ponderosa, but it was Tara that birthed and shaped her.
At length they returned to the house, walking back in silence. Adam kissed Scarlett and watched her settle down on the porch. She would be content out here for another hour, he reckoned, so he decided to go inside in search of Mammy.
Mammy had scarcely given him the time of day since he’d arrived. She made her disapproval of Scarlett’s new marriage evident every time she muttered to herself or ‘harrumphed’ in their presence. Scarlett, in turn, had acted as if Mammy didn’t exist.
He found the old woman sitting in the parlor with some darning. Adam drew up a chair next to her. “Do you mind if I sit with you?” he asked.
He got another ‘harrumph’ as a reply. That wasn’t precisely a refusal, so Adam sat down.
They sat in silence for a time. Mammy was the one to break it.
“What does Pork think he’s going to do with himself in Virginia City?” she asked. “He don’t know nothing except how to be a butler and a valet—and you don’t need either on your Ponderosa.”
Adam shrugged. “Scarlett and I will set up our own house—with a servant’s house, I suppose. She’ll want Pork to continue as a butler. And Dilcey is an experienced nurse and midwife—she can always find work. Besides, I think they feel that their children will have more opportunities out west than in Georgia.”
Mammy responded to that by muttering under her breath against Dilcey. Apparently the two women had never gotten on.
“Well, even if you have a butler,” she said at length, turning her wizened, piercing eyes on him, “it ain’t going to turn you into quality. And neither is your thousand square miles of ranch. And your marriage will still be nothing but adultery. No woman has any business remarrying while her husband is still alive.”
Adam raised his eyebrows at her. “And how did you know that the Ponderosa is a thousand square miles?”
To his surprise Mammy grinned. “Mister Rhett came here just before the wedding,” she said. “He told me that the Cartwrights have their own empire out in Nevada and that you’ll take good care of my lamb. ‘Don’t give Scarlett any grief, Mammy,’ he said. ‘Adam Cartwright is a decent man.’”
Despite his dislike of Butler, Adam managed a smile. “I will do my best to take care of her, Ma’am. And I think she and the children will be happy.”
Mammy sighed. “I think so too, now that I’ve met you. I suppose if Scarlett had to commit adultery, it might as well be with you. Will Dilcey be the mammy to your children?”
Adam shrugged. “I hadn’t thought about it—I’m not used to the whole idea of a mammy. But you’re more than welcome on the Ponderosa. I know how much it would mean to Scarlett if you came with us.”
But Mammy shook her head at that. “No, sir, I’m too old and too fat to be traipsing out to Nevada,” she said with a flat finality in her voice. “Now when are you going to tell my lamb that your Ponderosa isn’t a pitiful little ranch?”
Adam grinned. “I’m not going to tell her—not unless she asks me straight out. I’ll wait until she sees it for herself.”
Mammy chuckled and looked over Adam with something akin to approval. “Good. You know just how to handle my lamb.”
*
Scarlett heard Adam walk back onto the porch. She smiled up at him as he took a seat beside her on the steps, and even in the dim lamplight she could see him return the smile.
He put his arm around her as she nestled her head against his shoulder. “Will has done a fine job with Tara,” she said. “I know that I’m leaving her in good hands.”
Adam kissed the top of her head. “Can you be happy away from this raw, red earth?”
She nodded. “Yes—I spend most of my time away from her already. All these years I’ve been living in Atlanta…but Adam, I wish that Bonnie were coming with us.”
Adam said nothing to that—what could he say?—but he tightened his grip on her and stroked her hair. Scarlett closed her eyes, grateful for his warmth and nearness, and pushed the thought of her dead daughter to the back of her mind.
But close on the heels of Bonnie came thoughts of her mother and Melly and even Charlie and Frank. Scarlett had lost so much in her twenty-eight years—suddenly she realized how silly it was that she and Mammy were wasting their time quarreling.
Adam must have read her thoughts. “I think Mammy is ready to make amends,” he informed her. “We’ll get eaten alive if we stay out here—why don’t you go in and talk to her?”
Scarlett smiled slyly at him. “Is that a polite request—or a thinly disguised command?”
“The latter,” he said with a wink.
Scarlett laughed, but then her face turned serious. “She won’t be here by the time we come back to visit, will she?”
“Probably not,” he answered softly.
She closed her eyes for a moment, but at length she nodded. “I’ll go speak with her. I suppose I’ll never forgive myself otherwise. But she’ll always believe that we’re living in sin.”
“I know,” Adam said. “But after reminding me that I’ll never be ‘quality,’ she did say that if you had to commit adultery, it might as well be with me.”
Scarlett’s eyes danced with amusement. “Then you must have impressed her,” she told him. “That’s as near as she’ll ever come to saying that she likes you.”
Adam chuckled at that. Scarlett realized, for the first time, how much she enjoyed his warm, rich baritone. She threw her arms around him and kissed him impulsively.
He returned her kiss with a hot, almost rough passion. Then he held her to him when they finally broke apart.
Scarlett sighed again with a rare feeling of contentment. How good it felt to be in his arms! Adam wasn’t Rhett and the Ponderosa wouldn’t be Tara—but somehow she could bear the thought of leaving both Rhett and Tara behind.
She smiled to herself, and in the last few minutes of twilight the raw red earth and the sweet, mossy smell of Tara seemed to fade—replaced by the cool, dark blue of Lake Tahoe and the sharp scent of ponderosa pine.
~The End~
Tara at Dusk, Part Six
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Fan Fiction Crossover (Bonanza-Gone With The Wind)
Rating: PG
Link to Part One
~
Ashley frowned over the accounting books at the mill. He had never liked the lumber business—he wasn’t cut out for it. But the publishing venture that he, Adam and Scarlett had entered looked like it might succeed—even if Adam and Scarlett carried it out from Virginia City.
He fervently hoped for his book’s success, at any event. It would allow him to sell the mills and focus on writing.
The sound of someone entering the office pried his mind from the accounts. He glanced up and started at the sight of Rhett Butler.
“Good afternoon,” Rhett said with a slight bow.
“And to you,” Ashley returned, standing up so that he could offer Rhett his hand.
The two men shook hands and then seated themselves opposite each other. Ashley wasn’t entirely surprised to see Rhett. They had always understood one another and they had worked hand in glove in politics—first to put an end to the Klan in Georgia and then to bring the Democrats back to power.
They spent a few minutes exchanging pleasantries. Rhett asked after Ashley’s son as well as his sister India and Aunt Pittypat. Ashley, in turn, inquired after Rhett’s mother in Charleston. But then Rhett came to the point.
“Is this Adam Cartwright everything he seems?” he asked.
Ashley was surprised that Rhett would value his opinion on the matter, but he nodded. “He’s a good man and he loves Scarlett. Oh, he’s not starry-eyed,” he added. “He knows her faults. But he cares for her and the children. And he’ll take her away from here—away from the society that will never forgive her. She’ll have to leave Tara, of course, but Adam can afford to bring her back periodically.”
Rhett favored him with a wry smile. “Oh, he can certainly afford it. Do you know what a goldmine Scarlett has found for herself?”
Ashley grinned. “Yes—but Scarlett doesn’t. I only learned of the Ponderosa because Adam and I happen to have mutual friends in New York. Scarlett thinks of it as a pitifully small ranch.”
“Well, I almost admire Mr. Cartwright for not disillusioning her,” Rhett said with a dry laugh. “I suppose the best thing I can do for Scarlett is divorce her out of hand.”
“I think so,” Ashley agreed.
It cost him something to say as much, for Ashley knew that Melly had hoped and prayed that Scarlett and Rhett would settle their differences. Melly would have wanted them to try again.
But as far as he could see, they only brought out the worst in each other. He almost shuddered, remembering that one of their arguments had resulted in Scarlett’s terrible fall down a flight of stairs and subsequent miscarriage. It had been an accident, of course—Rhett had made some jeering comment and Scarlett had lunged at him and lost her balance. But such episodes were scarcely the basis of a sound marriage.
They spoke for a while longer on inconsequential matters, but at length Rhett rose to take his leave. He paused at the threshold, however.
“I’ll soon be a free man,” he reminded Ashley. “And I’d like to settle down in some comfort. Would you disapprove of your sister associating with a divorced gentleman?”
Ashley’s eyebrows shot up at that, but he recovered quickly enough. “India’s her own mistress,” he said evenly.
Rhett smiled at that and bowed. Then he departed, leaving Ashley with a vague, hollow feeling that was not unlike regret.
*
Adam took Scarlett as his wife less than a month later. Rhett Butler had done everything in his power—and that was considerable—to speed up the divorce.
They were married by a justice of the peace. Despite her indifference to the Church, Scarlett couldn’t bring herself to be married in a Protestant ceremony. Besides, Adam doubted that she had much use for God in any context.
Ashley was one witness and Suellen was the other. Yes, Suellen and her husband Will had made the trip to Atlanta in order to support Scarlett’s scandalous new marriage. Despite the sisters’ dislike of one another, they were still blood.
Wade also supported the marriage. Adam had discussed it with him at length and found the boy surprisingly agreeable to the notion.
He would do well enough on the Ponderosa, Adam decided. And Wade was hoping to get into West Point or Annapolis. He had the brains and determination for either. Adam thought that the Cartwrights stood a good chance of securing him the appointment.
Ella was also content with the situation. She had shyly confided to Adam that her mother was less frightening and overbearing when he was around.
But one person disapproved of the wedding and staunchly refused to come to Atlanta to celebrate it. Scarlett had made a special trip to Tara to beg Mammy to come, but Mammy held firm.
Mammy didn’t hold with divorce. She was as strict in her notions of propriety—and as strict a Catholic—as Scarlett’s mother, Ellen O’Hara, had been. She said straight out that she had no intention of watching Miss Ellen’s daughter disgrace herself in a ceremony that was no better than a celebration of adultery.
Adam had smiled grimly at that—Pa might well sympathize with Mammy. Oh, Pa was no Catholic, of course, but he didn’t hold with divorce either.
He could imagine the scene clearly when Scarlett described it to him, even though he had never met Mammy. The old woman had folded her arms across her chest and jutted out her chin while Scarlett ranted and raved—and now Scarlett was swearing that she would never speak to her again.
Adam knew that he would have to what he could to heal that breach. Scarlett would never forgive herself if the old woman died with the quarrel still between them.
*
India Wilkes set down her sewing and stared out the window. Aunt Pittypat’s house had been full of callers today—everyone wanted to discuss Scarlett’s shocking new marriage.
To think that she had divorced Captain Butler! And all to marry some Nevada rancher who had been born a Yankee.
India smiled thinly. The callers were almost disappointed that Mr. Cartwright was whisking Scarlett away to his ranch out west.
Scarlett had shocked and scandalized the town countless times. She had caused a rift between India and her brother Ashley that was only now beginning to heal. She was arguably even responsible for the deaths of Frank Kennedy and Tommy Wellburn.
Still, she made for excellent gossip.
Strangely enough, some of the hatred that India had always felt for Scarlett was abating now. Perhaps it was because Melly had set such a store by her. That hadn’t mattered while Melly was alive, but now that she had passed on it made all the difference.
For the first time, India could see Scarlett clearly. She was not a brass woman who had shamed her feminity and disgraced the old guard of the Confederacy, but a victim of that god-awful war, as they all were. She had done her best to survive and she had made sure that her family, her ex-slaves like Mammy and Pork, and her in-laws like Ashley and Melanie had all survived with her.
Some of the callers today felt that Mr. Cartwright was too good for Scarlett; for all that he was a Yankee. But India was secretly relieved that Scarlett had found a decent man—especially since he would take her far away.
Melanie would have been horrified by the divorce, India reflected. But she had loved Scarlett—and she would have liked and respected Adam Cartwright. In the end, she would have been happy for them both.
India picked up her sewing again, but was surprised by yet another knock on the door. Surely it was too late for more callers?
Uncle Peter answered the door and announced Captain Rhett Butler.
She rose to her feet and crossed over to him. “How good to see you, Captain Butler,” she said. “But I must inform you that Aunt Pittypat has retired for the evening. I fear she’s not available to any more callers.”
“I came to speak with you, Miss India” he informed her as he swept off his hat.
“With me?” she repeated blankly.
“Yes,” he answered smoothly. “Now that I’m, er, free of my entanglements, I was hoping you would give me the opportunity to get to know you better. May I come in?”
India stood rooted to the floor. She and Captain Butler had never treated each other with anything more than cold courtesy and grudging respect. And now he wanted to come courting?
The peculiar insight that allowed her to see Scarlett so clearly came to her rescue. Of course—he wanted a quiet life now. He wanted a life of companionship with a respectable woman of good breeding. The last thing he wanted was another wildcat like Scarlett.
She stepped aside and put on her most welcoming smile. “I’m honored, Captain Butler. Please come in.”
LINK TO PART SEVEN
Genre: Fan Fiction Crossover (Bonanza-Gone With The Wind)
Rating: PG
Link to Part One
~
Ashley frowned over the accounting books at the mill. He had never liked the lumber business—he wasn’t cut out for it. But the publishing venture that he, Adam and Scarlett had entered looked like it might succeed—even if Adam and Scarlett carried it out from Virginia City.
He fervently hoped for his book’s success, at any event. It would allow him to sell the mills and focus on writing.
The sound of someone entering the office pried his mind from the accounts. He glanced up and started at the sight of Rhett Butler.
“Good afternoon,” Rhett said with a slight bow.
“And to you,” Ashley returned, standing up so that he could offer Rhett his hand.
The two men shook hands and then seated themselves opposite each other. Ashley wasn’t entirely surprised to see Rhett. They had always understood one another and they had worked hand in glove in politics—first to put an end to the Klan in Georgia and then to bring the Democrats back to power.
They spent a few minutes exchanging pleasantries. Rhett asked after Ashley’s son as well as his sister India and Aunt Pittypat. Ashley, in turn, inquired after Rhett’s mother in Charleston. But then Rhett came to the point.
“Is this Adam Cartwright everything he seems?” he asked.
Ashley was surprised that Rhett would value his opinion on the matter, but he nodded. “He’s a good man and he loves Scarlett. Oh, he’s not starry-eyed,” he added. “He knows her faults. But he cares for her and the children. And he’ll take her away from here—away from the society that will never forgive her. She’ll have to leave Tara, of course, but Adam can afford to bring her back periodically.”
Rhett favored him with a wry smile. “Oh, he can certainly afford it. Do you know what a goldmine Scarlett has found for herself?”
Ashley grinned. “Yes—but Scarlett doesn’t. I only learned of the Ponderosa because Adam and I happen to have mutual friends in New York. Scarlett thinks of it as a pitifully small ranch.”
“Well, I almost admire Mr. Cartwright for not disillusioning her,” Rhett said with a dry laugh. “I suppose the best thing I can do for Scarlett is divorce her out of hand.”
“I think so,” Ashley agreed.
It cost him something to say as much, for Ashley knew that Melly had hoped and prayed that Scarlett and Rhett would settle their differences. Melly would have wanted them to try again.
But as far as he could see, they only brought out the worst in each other. He almost shuddered, remembering that one of their arguments had resulted in Scarlett’s terrible fall down a flight of stairs and subsequent miscarriage. It had been an accident, of course—Rhett had made some jeering comment and Scarlett had lunged at him and lost her balance. But such episodes were scarcely the basis of a sound marriage.
They spoke for a while longer on inconsequential matters, but at length Rhett rose to take his leave. He paused at the threshold, however.
“I’ll soon be a free man,” he reminded Ashley. “And I’d like to settle down in some comfort. Would you disapprove of your sister associating with a divorced gentleman?”
Ashley’s eyebrows shot up at that, but he recovered quickly enough. “India’s her own mistress,” he said evenly.
Rhett smiled at that and bowed. Then he departed, leaving Ashley with a vague, hollow feeling that was not unlike regret.
*
Adam took Scarlett as his wife less than a month later. Rhett Butler had done everything in his power—and that was considerable—to speed up the divorce.
They were married by a justice of the peace. Despite her indifference to the Church, Scarlett couldn’t bring herself to be married in a Protestant ceremony. Besides, Adam doubted that she had much use for God in any context.
Ashley was one witness and Suellen was the other. Yes, Suellen and her husband Will had made the trip to Atlanta in order to support Scarlett’s scandalous new marriage. Despite the sisters’ dislike of one another, they were still blood.
Wade also supported the marriage. Adam had discussed it with him at length and found the boy surprisingly agreeable to the notion.
He would do well enough on the Ponderosa, Adam decided. And Wade was hoping to get into West Point or Annapolis. He had the brains and determination for either. Adam thought that the Cartwrights stood a good chance of securing him the appointment.
Ella was also content with the situation. She had shyly confided to Adam that her mother was less frightening and overbearing when he was around.
But one person disapproved of the wedding and staunchly refused to come to Atlanta to celebrate it. Scarlett had made a special trip to Tara to beg Mammy to come, but Mammy held firm.
Mammy didn’t hold with divorce. She was as strict in her notions of propriety—and as strict a Catholic—as Scarlett’s mother, Ellen O’Hara, had been. She said straight out that she had no intention of watching Miss Ellen’s daughter disgrace herself in a ceremony that was no better than a celebration of adultery.
Adam had smiled grimly at that—Pa might well sympathize with Mammy. Oh, Pa was no Catholic, of course, but he didn’t hold with divorce either.
He could imagine the scene clearly when Scarlett described it to him, even though he had never met Mammy. The old woman had folded her arms across her chest and jutted out her chin while Scarlett ranted and raved—and now Scarlett was swearing that she would never speak to her again.
Adam knew that he would have to what he could to heal that breach. Scarlett would never forgive herself if the old woman died with the quarrel still between them.
*
India Wilkes set down her sewing and stared out the window. Aunt Pittypat’s house had been full of callers today—everyone wanted to discuss Scarlett’s shocking new marriage.
To think that she had divorced Captain Butler! And all to marry some Nevada rancher who had been born a Yankee.
India smiled thinly. The callers were almost disappointed that Mr. Cartwright was whisking Scarlett away to his ranch out west.
Scarlett had shocked and scandalized the town countless times. She had caused a rift between India and her brother Ashley that was only now beginning to heal. She was arguably even responsible for the deaths of Frank Kennedy and Tommy Wellburn.
Still, she made for excellent gossip.
Strangely enough, some of the hatred that India had always felt for Scarlett was abating now. Perhaps it was because Melly had set such a store by her. That hadn’t mattered while Melly was alive, but now that she had passed on it made all the difference.
For the first time, India could see Scarlett clearly. She was not a brass woman who had shamed her feminity and disgraced the old guard of the Confederacy, but a victim of that god-awful war, as they all were. She had done her best to survive and she had made sure that her family, her ex-slaves like Mammy and Pork, and her in-laws like Ashley and Melanie had all survived with her.
Some of the callers today felt that Mr. Cartwright was too good for Scarlett; for all that he was a Yankee. But India was secretly relieved that Scarlett had found a decent man—especially since he would take her far away.
Melanie would have been horrified by the divorce, India reflected. But she had loved Scarlett—and she would have liked and respected Adam Cartwright. In the end, she would have been happy for them both.
India picked up her sewing again, but was surprised by yet another knock on the door. Surely it was too late for more callers?
Uncle Peter answered the door and announced Captain Rhett Butler.
She rose to her feet and crossed over to him. “How good to see you, Captain Butler,” she said. “But I must inform you that Aunt Pittypat has retired for the evening. I fear she’s not available to any more callers.”
“I came to speak with you, Miss India” he informed her as he swept off his hat.
“With me?” she repeated blankly.
“Yes,” he answered smoothly. “Now that I’m, er, free of my entanglements, I was hoping you would give me the opportunity to get to know you better. May I come in?”
India stood rooted to the floor. She and Captain Butler had never treated each other with anything more than cold courtesy and grudging respect. And now he wanted to come courting?
The peculiar insight that allowed her to see Scarlett so clearly came to her rescue. Of course—he wanted a quiet life now. He wanted a life of companionship with a respectable woman of good breeding. The last thing he wanted was another wildcat like Scarlett.
She stepped aside and put on her most welcoming smile. “I’m honored, Captain Butler. Please come in.”
LINK TO PART SEVEN
Tara at Dusk, Part Five
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
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
Tara at Dusk, Part Four
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Fan Fiction Crossover (Bonanza-Gone With The Wind)
Rating: PG
Link to Part One
~
Hoss swallowed. “Do you want to tell him?” he asked, staring at the front door.
“Oh yes,” Joe answered, rubbing his hands together.
“Pa’s going to be hopping mad,” Hoss warned him.
Little Joe nodded. “He sure is. But he’ll be angry with older brother—not with us. I only wish older brother were here so that he could witness Pa’s reaction.”
“He doesn’t have to be here,” Hoss said with a sigh. “I reckon he’ll hear Pa explode all the way down in Atlanta.”
Joe bit back a grin. “Probably,” he owned.
“Do you suppose we can calm him down afterwards?” Hoss persisted.
Joe gave the matter some thought. “I think so,” he said at length. “If Adam marries a divorcée the world won’t come to an end. But it might take Pa some time to see that.”
Hoss sighed again. “I reckon that’s why Adam sent you that letter. He wants us to soften Pa up for him.”
“Yup,” Joe agreed. “And that’s what I’ll do—but I think I’ll let Pa have his explosion first.” He paused to hit his brother on the chest. “Wish me luck!”
“Good luck, short shanks,” Hoss said solemnly.
And with that Joe squared his shoulders and made his way inside.
*
As Joe expected, Pa was sitting behind his desk, frowning at a mound of paperwork. Joe shook his head. Pa had been working too hard of late, but there was no talking to the man.
He could read his Pa’s thoughts. He was wishing that Adam was here instead of wasting his time in Atlanta. Pa would feel better if his oldest son was at hand to peruse their investments—especially in the wake of the stock market crash.
Of course, Adam was making himself useful in Atlanta. He’d been looking into new investments that weren’t likely to be affected by the crash. But Pa still wanted him home.
Oh, just wait till Pa heard what was keeping older brother in dear old Georgia!
“Hi Pa!” Joe called out as he removed his hat, coat and gun belt. “We got all the supplies from town—and all the mail.”
“Anything from Adam?” Pa demanded.
“As a matter of fact, yes,” Joe answered. “A nice long letter. He expects to be coming home soon. But Pa—”
“Thank the Lord for that!” Pa said. “It’s high time he stopped worrying about what was going on in the South and started thinking about what’s going on here. When does he expect to be home?”
“He doesn’t know, exactly,” Joe said with a shrug. “He’s, uh—well, he’s waiting on someone.”
Pa furrowed his brow. “Waiting on someone? Who?”
Joe grinned. “A girl, of course. Well, not exactly a girl,” he corrected. “I should say a lady.”
“A lady?” Pa repeated blankly. “Do you mean to tell me—is your brother engaged?”
“No, but he has hopes,” Joe explained. “But Pa—”
“Why, that’s wonderful!” Pa exclaimed, jumping up from his chair. “What is she like? How did he meet her?”
Joe cleared his throat. “Well, apparently her little girl was lost. Adam found her and brought her home. But Pa—”
“Little girl?” Pa repeated. “The lady must be a widow.”
Joe nodded. “Yeah, she’s a widow, all right. In fact, she’s been widowed twice. She has a son from her first husband and a daughter from her second one. But Pa—”
“Wonderful!” Pa said again. “Oh, I’m sorry that she lost two husbands—I imagine the war had something to do with that—but I’ll be gaining two grandchildren!”
Joe sighed. “Only if this works out, Pa.”
“Why shouldn’t it work out?” Pa asked as he picked out a pipe from his collection and broke open a new tin of tobacco. “Adam has everything to offer a lady.”
Joe took a deep breath. “But Pa, she’s married,” he said in a rush.
Ben looked up from his pipe. “Married? I thought you just said that she was widowed—twice!”
“She was,” Joe agreed. “But then she got married again. And husband number three is still alive.”
Pa’s face transformed before Joe’s eyes. His expression went from sheer delight to thunderous rage.
“Do you mean to tell me that your older brother is courting a married lady?” he demanded.
Joe nodded, making sure that he kept a straight face. “But don’t worry, Pa,” he said reassuringly. “Adam thinks that Mrs. Butler will obtain a divorce.”
“Oh he does, does he?” Pa asked, tossing his pipe down on the desk. “Does he also think that I raised my sons to court married women? Or to encourage a woman to disgrace herself with a divorce?”
Joe managed another shrug. “I’m not sure, Pa. He doesn’t say.”
Pa glared at him and stalked over to the door. Joe watched him put on his hat, coat and gun belt.
“Where are you going?” he risked asking.
“To town,” Pa answered. “I mean to wire that older brother of yours and bring him to his senses!”
And with that Pa marched out the door, slamming it behind him.
Little Joe let out a low whistle as he shook his head. Well, that went about as well as he expected. Hopefully by the time he got to town, Pa would calm down. He’d probably think better of sending the wire. He’d at least decide to come home and read Adam’s letter first.
That’s when he and Hoss would get to work on him. Between the two of them, they could make Pa see reason.
Still, it was nice to see older brother as the object of Pa’s rage. “Better you than me, Adam,” Joe said with a smile.
*
Pork entered the dining room slowly. Scarlett was seated at the head of the table with nothing but a single glass and the decanter of brandy in front of her.
She looked up at him as he entered. Her eyes were sparkling, as if daring him to reprimand her. She wasn’t drunk, but he knew from experience that she’d had just enough liquor to make her impossible to reason with.
“Why don’t you go on up to bed Miss Scarlett?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No, I’m not tired. Pork, do you know where Adam Cartwright lives?”
“Yes, I do,” he answered, narrowing his eyes at her.
“Go get the carriage then and—and bring me to him.”
He raised his eyebrows at that. “Miss Scarlett—you can’t go to his place! You know what folks would think—even if it were daylight. But it’s almost eleven o’clock at night!”
“Fiddle-dee-dee,” she responded as she poured herself another glass. “Do you think I care about one more scandal? Let the neighbors talk. They’ll be gossiping soon enough, regardless, if I end up divorced.”
“Miss Scarlett, let me help you upstairs,” Pork pleaded.
“Mother of God, I’m not drunk and I’m not a child! Now kindly bring the carriage around or I’ll find his home myself.”
Pork sighed. Scarlett was right—Atlanta folks would talk about her now no matter what she did.
Pork knew that Ashley Wilkes was hoping Scarlett would accept Adam’s suit. Ashley had liked Adam straight off and thought he’d be good for her. For the first time, Pork found himself agreeing with Ashley.
Maybe Scarlett should get her divorce after all and let Adam Cartwright take her and the children away from here. Maybe a fresh start out west would be the best thing for all of them.
Of course, that would put Pork in a bind. He was as much an O’Hara as Scarlett and he had no mind to seek employment with a new family. So either he would have to return to Tara and put up with Suellen or he and his own family would have to make the long journey to Nevada.
He would talk it over with his wife Dilcey, of course. But of those two options, Nevada looked more promising.
Besides, he had his own children to think of. The world would always be difficult for them, because of their race. But looking down the long years ahead, Pork thought that perhaps the West would offer them more opportunities than the South.
“You stay right where you are, Miss Scarlett,” he said at length. “I’ll bring him here.”
LINK TO PART FIVE
Genre: Fan Fiction Crossover (Bonanza-Gone With The Wind)
Rating: PG
Link to Part One
~
Hoss swallowed. “Do you want to tell him?” he asked, staring at the front door.
“Oh yes,” Joe answered, rubbing his hands together.
“Pa’s going to be hopping mad,” Hoss warned him.
Little Joe nodded. “He sure is. But he’ll be angry with older brother—not with us. I only wish older brother were here so that he could witness Pa’s reaction.”
“He doesn’t have to be here,” Hoss said with a sigh. “I reckon he’ll hear Pa explode all the way down in Atlanta.”
Joe bit back a grin. “Probably,” he owned.
“Do you suppose we can calm him down afterwards?” Hoss persisted.
Joe gave the matter some thought. “I think so,” he said at length. “If Adam marries a divorcée the world won’t come to an end. But it might take Pa some time to see that.”
Hoss sighed again. “I reckon that’s why Adam sent you that letter. He wants us to soften Pa up for him.”
“Yup,” Joe agreed. “And that’s what I’ll do—but I think I’ll let Pa have his explosion first.” He paused to hit his brother on the chest. “Wish me luck!”
“Good luck, short shanks,” Hoss said solemnly.
And with that Joe squared his shoulders and made his way inside.
*
As Joe expected, Pa was sitting behind his desk, frowning at a mound of paperwork. Joe shook his head. Pa had been working too hard of late, but there was no talking to the man.
He could read his Pa’s thoughts. He was wishing that Adam was here instead of wasting his time in Atlanta. Pa would feel better if his oldest son was at hand to peruse their investments—especially in the wake of the stock market crash.
Of course, Adam was making himself useful in Atlanta. He’d been looking into new investments that weren’t likely to be affected by the crash. But Pa still wanted him home.
Oh, just wait till Pa heard what was keeping older brother in dear old Georgia!
“Hi Pa!” Joe called out as he removed his hat, coat and gun belt. “We got all the supplies from town—and all the mail.”
“Anything from Adam?” Pa demanded.
“As a matter of fact, yes,” Joe answered. “A nice long letter. He expects to be coming home soon. But Pa—”
“Thank the Lord for that!” Pa said. “It’s high time he stopped worrying about what was going on in the South and started thinking about what’s going on here. When does he expect to be home?”
“He doesn’t know, exactly,” Joe said with a shrug. “He’s, uh—well, he’s waiting on someone.”
Pa furrowed his brow. “Waiting on someone? Who?”
Joe grinned. “A girl, of course. Well, not exactly a girl,” he corrected. “I should say a lady.”
“A lady?” Pa repeated blankly. “Do you mean to tell me—is your brother engaged?”
“No, but he has hopes,” Joe explained. “But Pa—”
“Why, that’s wonderful!” Pa exclaimed, jumping up from his chair. “What is she like? How did he meet her?”
Joe cleared his throat. “Well, apparently her little girl was lost. Adam found her and brought her home. But Pa—”
“Little girl?” Pa repeated. “The lady must be a widow.”
Joe nodded. “Yeah, she’s a widow, all right. In fact, she’s been widowed twice. She has a son from her first husband and a daughter from her second one. But Pa—”
“Wonderful!” Pa said again. “Oh, I’m sorry that she lost two husbands—I imagine the war had something to do with that—but I’ll be gaining two grandchildren!”
Joe sighed. “Only if this works out, Pa.”
“Why shouldn’t it work out?” Pa asked as he picked out a pipe from his collection and broke open a new tin of tobacco. “Adam has everything to offer a lady.”
Joe took a deep breath. “But Pa, she’s married,” he said in a rush.
Ben looked up from his pipe. “Married? I thought you just said that she was widowed—twice!”
“She was,” Joe agreed. “But then she got married again. And husband number three is still alive.”
Pa’s face transformed before Joe’s eyes. His expression went from sheer delight to thunderous rage.
“Do you mean to tell me that your older brother is courting a married lady?” he demanded.
Joe nodded, making sure that he kept a straight face. “But don’t worry, Pa,” he said reassuringly. “Adam thinks that Mrs. Butler will obtain a divorce.”
“Oh he does, does he?” Pa asked, tossing his pipe down on the desk. “Does he also think that I raised my sons to court married women? Or to encourage a woman to disgrace herself with a divorce?”
Joe managed another shrug. “I’m not sure, Pa. He doesn’t say.”
Pa glared at him and stalked over to the door. Joe watched him put on his hat, coat and gun belt.
“Where are you going?” he risked asking.
“To town,” Pa answered. “I mean to wire that older brother of yours and bring him to his senses!”
And with that Pa marched out the door, slamming it behind him.
Little Joe let out a low whistle as he shook his head. Well, that went about as well as he expected. Hopefully by the time he got to town, Pa would calm down. He’d probably think better of sending the wire. He’d at least decide to come home and read Adam’s letter first.
That’s when he and Hoss would get to work on him. Between the two of them, they could make Pa see reason.
Still, it was nice to see older brother as the object of Pa’s rage. “Better you than me, Adam,” Joe said with a smile.
*
Pork entered the dining room slowly. Scarlett was seated at the head of the table with nothing but a single glass and the decanter of brandy in front of her.
She looked up at him as he entered. Her eyes were sparkling, as if daring him to reprimand her. She wasn’t drunk, but he knew from experience that she’d had just enough liquor to make her impossible to reason with.
“Why don’t you go on up to bed Miss Scarlett?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No, I’m not tired. Pork, do you know where Adam Cartwright lives?”
“Yes, I do,” he answered, narrowing his eyes at her.
“Go get the carriage then and—and bring me to him.”
He raised his eyebrows at that. “Miss Scarlett—you can’t go to his place! You know what folks would think—even if it were daylight. But it’s almost eleven o’clock at night!”
“Fiddle-dee-dee,” she responded as she poured herself another glass. “Do you think I care about one more scandal? Let the neighbors talk. They’ll be gossiping soon enough, regardless, if I end up divorced.”
“Miss Scarlett, let me help you upstairs,” Pork pleaded.
“Mother of God, I’m not drunk and I’m not a child! Now kindly bring the carriage around or I’ll find his home myself.”
Pork sighed. Scarlett was right—Atlanta folks would talk about her now no matter what she did.
Pork knew that Ashley Wilkes was hoping Scarlett would accept Adam’s suit. Ashley had liked Adam straight off and thought he’d be good for her. For the first time, Pork found himself agreeing with Ashley.
Maybe Scarlett should get her divorce after all and let Adam Cartwright take her and the children away from here. Maybe a fresh start out west would be the best thing for all of them.
Of course, that would put Pork in a bind. He was as much an O’Hara as Scarlett and he had no mind to seek employment with a new family. So either he would have to return to Tara and put up with Suellen or he and his own family would have to make the long journey to Nevada.
He would talk it over with his wife Dilcey, of course. But of those two options, Nevada looked more promising.
Besides, he had his own children to think of. The world would always be difficult for them, because of their race. But looking down the long years ahead, Pork thought that perhaps the West would offer them more opportunities than the South.
“You stay right where you are, Miss Scarlett,” he said at length. “I’ll bring him here.”
LINK TO PART FIVE
Tara at Dusk, Part Three
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Fan Fiction Crossover (Bonanza-Gone With The Wind)
Rating: PG
Link to Part One
~
“Did you fight with the Yankees, Adam?”
Scarlett put down her pen and slammed her account book shut. How dare Wade ask the man a question like that? Adam was fool enough to answer her son honestly and the last thing Scarlett wanted to hear was that he had marched with Sherman.
Sometimes her son had no sense at all. Well, thank God Adam had taken such a shine to Wade and Ella, for he knew just how to handle them. But she wished that he wouldn’t encourage them to come to the mercantile so often.
“Wade, stop pestering Mr. Cartwright while he’s working,” Scarlett snapped.
Adam smiled at her. “Afraid you won’t like the answer, Mrs. Butler?” he asked with a wink.
She tried to give him a stern look in return, but the teasing light in his eyes coaxed an answering smile from her. “Will I?” she asked.
“Probably not,” he owned, turning back to Wade. “I wasn’t in that long, but I did fight for the Union. I was in the cavalry, under Buford.”
Wade gave him a look of grudging respect. “Under Buford?” he repeated. “Were you at Gettysburg, sir?”
Adam nodded. “Yes—we held the high ground on that first day.”
“I know,” Wade said eagerly. “I wish you hadn’t—no one ever talks about Buford, but I think he might have made the difference for the Union.”
Adam grinned. “You’re right, he doesn’t get enough credit. But of course the boys on Little Round Top did their part on the second day,” he commented.
“Yes, I suppose they did. But Buford had a different notion of cavalry than our Gen. Stuart did, didn’t he?” Wade persisted.
Adam agreed and from there the conversation turned to tactics. Scarlett soon lost interest. She felt an odd pride in Wade, however, that was quite foreign to her. Why, her boy must be reasonably intelligent to hold up his end of the conversation.
She did glean an interesting bit of information from their talk—Adam let slip that he had known Buford before the war. He had met him back when the officer had been stationed in the Utah Territory.
“Are you from Utah, Mr. Cartwright?” she asked him later as they were closing up shop.
They were alone now. That might be scandalous—but Scarlett didn’t worry her head over it. Adam was only hired help, after all. Why, it was just like being alone with Pork. Or with Will, before he went and married her sister.
“I was born in Boston,” Adam replied. “But my Pa and I made our way out west soon afterwards. We ended up settling in Nevada. We own a ranch by Lake Tahoe.”
“We?” Scarlett repeated. “Do you mean you and your father?”
Adam smiled. “My father, myself and my two brothers,” he answered.
“Oh,” she replied. She had been hoping that Adam didn’t have any family to speak of. The fact that his people were in Nevada meant that he might pack up and leave one day.
Of course, he was now involved in her publishing venture. Adam had tried to convince Ashley to contact the publisher in New York, but Ashley sided with Scarlett out of loyalty.
Once Adam saw that Ashley’s mind was made up, he shrugged and agreed to take part in the publishing. Scarlett was quite pleased with this outcome—it would keep Adam here for a little while, at least.
“Why—why didn’t you return home after the war?” she asked, trying to keep her voice casual and disinterested.
“I did,” he answered. “Joe and I didn’t reenlist after Buford died—we went home to the Ponderosa. That’s our ranch,” he added.
“Is Joe one of your brothers?” Scarlett prompted.
Adam’s eyes took on a far-off look. “Yes, Little Joe’s my youngest brother. His mother was a French Creole from New Orleans—Joe’s sympathy was with the South.”
Scarlett gave him a puzzled look. “But he fought with the Yankees too?”
“Yes, he did,” Adam replied softly as he leaned back against one of the shelving units. “He—I couldn’t believe it when he told me that he was joining up with me. But then he explained his decision…”
*
Joe was sitting on the settee with his head in his hands. He knew that Adam was going to join the Union Army—he just knew it.
He closed his eyes and thought back to the day that Adam left for college. Joe had just lost his mother and he was convinced that Adam would go away and never come back. He had clung to Adam and begged him not to leave. He had pleaded and cried with all the passion a five-year-old could muster.
Adam had picked him up and held him. He had done his best to comfort him. But in the end he still left.
Joe opened his eyes and abruptly stood up from the settee. He began pacing the living room.
Adam believed in the Union. He didn’t want to see his country torn apart into separate squabbling nations. Moreover, he believed that a Union victory would end slavery. The war wasn’t about slavery but you couldn’t get Adam to see that.
Joe sank back into the settee. Pa would scream and holler at him, of course. He would remind Adam that a war back east had nothing to do with them out here on the Ponderosa. But Adam would holler back and in the end he would go.
God damn the Yankees, Joe thought savagely. Why couldn’t they leave the South in peace? Why not just let the Confederate states go and allow them to settle their own problems?
He sighed. His brother was just as thick-skulled and stubborn as the rest of the Yanks. But Joe was not about to let him walk out on him again. This time he would go with him.
If Adam signed up, then so would he. They both had experience fighting Indians—maybe they could get a commission in the cavalry.
In fact, it might be worthwhile to get in touch with that Buford fellow again—the one who had fought the Indians in the Utah Territory. Buford was a Kentucky man and both Adam and Joe had gotten on with him.
Joe shook his head. The thought of wearing a Yankee uniform disgusted him. But he would do it for Adam’s sake.
But what about Hoss? He didn’t care about the war one way or the other—but he wouldn’t just watch his brothers march off without him. And how could Joe survive without him? Hoss was practically the other side of himself.
Joe cursed the war again. He hated anything that threatened to tear up the Cartwright family.
Well, they couldn’t ask Pa to send three sons off to war. No, he and Adam would have to convince Hoss to stay behind. Pa would need him and the Ponderosa would need him. Besides, they wouldn’t be gone long. Joe would see to that. They would enlist only once and for the shortest term available—he would force Adam to agree to that.
This time Joe would be laying down the law—not older brother.
*
Scarlett felt something catch in her throat as Adam explained why his youngest brother had enlisted with him. She pretended to examine something on a shelf so that she wouldn’t have to look him in the eye.
“It—it sounds as if your family is quite attached to you, Mr. Cartwright. Why are you in Georgia now? Did your ranch fail?”
She thought she heard a smile in his voice as he answered. “No, the Ponderosa does well enough,” he assured her. “Some friends of mine from the Freedmen’s Bureau asked me to come to Georgia as a teacher.”
She sniffed contemptuously. “I don’t think much of the Freedmen’s Bureau,” she informed him. “If you want to educate our former slaves—well, that’s your business, sir. But the Bureau is corrupt and mismanaged.”
“I know,” Adam replied. “But for all that, a few of us still managed to do some good. But my work here is over. I mean to return home soon.”
“I see,” Scarlett managed, keeping her voice light. She couldn’t let him know that his departure would in any way affect her. “What are you waiting for? Just our publishing venture?”
She heard him walk over to her. The next thing she knew, he was standing in front of her, looking down at her.
He took her chin in his hand, forcing her to look up at him. “I’m waiting to find out if your marriage is over,” he replied.
Scarlett stared at him, speechless.
“You—you misunderstand,” she said at last. “Rhett is just away on business—”
But Adam shook his head. “Don’t,” he said. “I may be a Yankee outsider, Scarlett, but I have ears in my head. If I’m crying for the moon, just say so and I’ll leave tomorrow. Otherwise—well, I’ll stay a bit longer.”
Scarlett was so shocked that she didn’t even notice that Adam had used her Christian name. Her brain seemed to be frozen.
“I—I can’t think about this now,” she managed, pushing his hand away as she rushed to gather her things. “I’ll think about it tomorrow.”
LINK TO PART FOUR
Genre: Fan Fiction Crossover (Bonanza-Gone With The Wind)
Rating: PG
Link to Part One
~
“Did you fight with the Yankees, Adam?”
Scarlett put down her pen and slammed her account book shut. How dare Wade ask the man a question like that? Adam was fool enough to answer her son honestly and the last thing Scarlett wanted to hear was that he had marched with Sherman.
Sometimes her son had no sense at all. Well, thank God Adam had taken such a shine to Wade and Ella, for he knew just how to handle them. But she wished that he wouldn’t encourage them to come to the mercantile so often.
“Wade, stop pestering Mr. Cartwright while he’s working,” Scarlett snapped.
Adam smiled at her. “Afraid you won’t like the answer, Mrs. Butler?” he asked with a wink.
She tried to give him a stern look in return, but the teasing light in his eyes coaxed an answering smile from her. “Will I?” she asked.
“Probably not,” he owned, turning back to Wade. “I wasn’t in that long, but I did fight for the Union. I was in the cavalry, under Buford.”
Wade gave him a look of grudging respect. “Under Buford?” he repeated. “Were you at Gettysburg, sir?”
Adam nodded. “Yes—we held the high ground on that first day.”
“I know,” Wade said eagerly. “I wish you hadn’t—no one ever talks about Buford, but I think he might have made the difference for the Union.”
Adam grinned. “You’re right, he doesn’t get enough credit. But of course the boys on Little Round Top did their part on the second day,” he commented.
“Yes, I suppose they did. But Buford had a different notion of cavalry than our Gen. Stuart did, didn’t he?” Wade persisted.
Adam agreed and from there the conversation turned to tactics. Scarlett soon lost interest. She felt an odd pride in Wade, however, that was quite foreign to her. Why, her boy must be reasonably intelligent to hold up his end of the conversation.
She did glean an interesting bit of information from their talk—Adam let slip that he had known Buford before the war. He had met him back when the officer had been stationed in the Utah Territory.
“Are you from Utah, Mr. Cartwright?” she asked him later as they were closing up shop.
They were alone now. That might be scandalous—but Scarlett didn’t worry her head over it. Adam was only hired help, after all. Why, it was just like being alone with Pork. Or with Will, before he went and married her sister.
“I was born in Boston,” Adam replied. “But my Pa and I made our way out west soon afterwards. We ended up settling in Nevada. We own a ranch by Lake Tahoe.”
“We?” Scarlett repeated. “Do you mean you and your father?”
Adam smiled. “My father, myself and my two brothers,” he answered.
“Oh,” she replied. She had been hoping that Adam didn’t have any family to speak of. The fact that his people were in Nevada meant that he might pack up and leave one day.
Of course, he was now involved in her publishing venture. Adam had tried to convince Ashley to contact the publisher in New York, but Ashley sided with Scarlett out of loyalty.
Once Adam saw that Ashley’s mind was made up, he shrugged and agreed to take part in the publishing. Scarlett was quite pleased with this outcome—it would keep Adam here for a little while, at least.
“Why—why didn’t you return home after the war?” she asked, trying to keep her voice casual and disinterested.
“I did,” he answered. “Joe and I didn’t reenlist after Buford died—we went home to the Ponderosa. That’s our ranch,” he added.
“Is Joe one of your brothers?” Scarlett prompted.
Adam’s eyes took on a far-off look. “Yes, Little Joe’s my youngest brother. His mother was a French Creole from New Orleans—Joe’s sympathy was with the South.”
Scarlett gave him a puzzled look. “But he fought with the Yankees too?”
“Yes, he did,” Adam replied softly as he leaned back against one of the shelving units. “He—I couldn’t believe it when he told me that he was joining up with me. But then he explained his decision…”
*
Joe was sitting on the settee with his head in his hands. He knew that Adam was going to join the Union Army—he just knew it.
He closed his eyes and thought back to the day that Adam left for college. Joe had just lost his mother and he was convinced that Adam would go away and never come back. He had clung to Adam and begged him not to leave. He had pleaded and cried with all the passion a five-year-old could muster.
Adam had picked him up and held him. He had done his best to comfort him. But in the end he still left.
Joe opened his eyes and abruptly stood up from the settee. He began pacing the living room.
Adam believed in the Union. He didn’t want to see his country torn apart into separate squabbling nations. Moreover, he believed that a Union victory would end slavery. The war wasn’t about slavery but you couldn’t get Adam to see that.
Joe sank back into the settee. Pa would scream and holler at him, of course. He would remind Adam that a war back east had nothing to do with them out here on the Ponderosa. But Adam would holler back and in the end he would go.
God damn the Yankees, Joe thought savagely. Why couldn’t they leave the South in peace? Why not just let the Confederate states go and allow them to settle their own problems?
He sighed. His brother was just as thick-skulled and stubborn as the rest of the Yanks. But Joe was not about to let him walk out on him again. This time he would go with him.
If Adam signed up, then so would he. They both had experience fighting Indians—maybe they could get a commission in the cavalry.
In fact, it might be worthwhile to get in touch with that Buford fellow again—the one who had fought the Indians in the Utah Territory. Buford was a Kentucky man and both Adam and Joe had gotten on with him.
Joe shook his head. The thought of wearing a Yankee uniform disgusted him. But he would do it for Adam’s sake.
But what about Hoss? He didn’t care about the war one way or the other—but he wouldn’t just watch his brothers march off without him. And how could Joe survive without him? Hoss was practically the other side of himself.
Joe cursed the war again. He hated anything that threatened to tear up the Cartwright family.
Well, they couldn’t ask Pa to send three sons off to war. No, he and Adam would have to convince Hoss to stay behind. Pa would need him and the Ponderosa would need him. Besides, they wouldn’t be gone long. Joe would see to that. They would enlist only once and for the shortest term available—he would force Adam to agree to that.
This time Joe would be laying down the law—not older brother.
*
Scarlett felt something catch in her throat as Adam explained why his youngest brother had enlisted with him. She pretended to examine something on a shelf so that she wouldn’t have to look him in the eye.
“It—it sounds as if your family is quite attached to you, Mr. Cartwright. Why are you in Georgia now? Did your ranch fail?”
She thought she heard a smile in his voice as he answered. “No, the Ponderosa does well enough,” he assured her. “Some friends of mine from the Freedmen’s Bureau asked me to come to Georgia as a teacher.”
She sniffed contemptuously. “I don’t think much of the Freedmen’s Bureau,” she informed him. “If you want to educate our former slaves—well, that’s your business, sir. But the Bureau is corrupt and mismanaged.”
“I know,” Adam replied. “But for all that, a few of us still managed to do some good. But my work here is over. I mean to return home soon.”
“I see,” Scarlett managed, keeping her voice light. She couldn’t let him know that his departure would in any way affect her. “What are you waiting for? Just our publishing venture?”
She heard him walk over to her. The next thing she knew, he was standing in front of her, looking down at her.
He took her chin in his hand, forcing her to look up at him. “I’m waiting to find out if your marriage is over,” he replied.
Scarlett stared at him, speechless.
“You—you misunderstand,” she said at last. “Rhett is just away on business—”
But Adam shook his head. “Don’t,” he said. “I may be a Yankee outsider, Scarlett, but I have ears in my head. If I’m crying for the moon, just say so and I’ll leave tomorrow. Otherwise—well, I’ll stay a bit longer.”
Scarlett was so shocked that she didn’t even notice that Adam had used her Christian name. Her brain seemed to be frozen.
“I—I can’t think about this now,” she managed, pushing his hand away as she rushed to gather her things. “I’ll think about it tomorrow.”
LINK TO PART FOUR
Tara at Dusk, Part Two
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Fan Fiction Crossover (Bonanza-Gone With The Wind)
Rating: PG
Link to Part One
~
“Sit down, Mr. Cartwright.”
He nodded his head at that and moved to obey her. Scarlett caught a gleam in his eye, however, as he seated himself on the opposite side of her desk. She frowned, wondering what he found so amusing.
Scarlett peered intently at him. He had certainly proved himself useful today, this Adam Cartwright.
There’d been no time to speak with him about his wages after he hauled in the crates of china, but instead of idling about he had put himself to work. She knew now that he had a fine head for figures, that he had a good eye for displaying merchandise and that his manners were friendly and pleasing.
He had a good speaking voice too—a pleasant baritone. But she couldn’t place his accent. She could tell that he wasn’t Southerner, but she didn’t trust her ear enough to guess any further. Why, he might have served under Sherman in the Yankee army, for all she knew. Or he might be a carpetbagger. Or he might have been with the Freedmen’s Bureau.
But if he had been a Union soldier, he wasn’t in uniform now. Scarlett could overlook his service in the Yankee army so long as he didn’t flaunt it.
And since the worst of the Reconstruction was over, most carpetbaggers had fled Atlanta. Besides, Scarlett knew all about carpetbaggers—she’d had to pretend friendship with them in the wake of Georgia’s defeat. This man didn’t seem like one of those ‘new people’ who had come like vultures to pick on the Confederacy’s remains.
And if he had worked with the Freedmen’s Bureau—well, amidst all the corrupt carpetbaggers in that institution, there were a few hopeless idealists. If this man believed that blacks were the equals of whites and should be treated as such—well, that was his own concern. It made no difference to Scarlett.
She narrowed her eyes at him. There was something about him that reminded her of Ashley. Ashley was an idealist too—that was it. But at least this man seemed to have more sense than Ashley.
And so she dismissed her three worst fears about Mr. Cartwright. But one nagging doubt remained—he couldn’t possibly be desperate for work. Someone with his brains and manners could do better than to work as hired help in a mercantile.
Of course, he’d never claimed to be desperate. Scarlett had just assumed that he was because he didn’t dress like a gentleman. But what did it matter? He was here, he was willing to work for her and she suspected that he was worth his weight in gold. There was no sense looking a gift horse in the mouth.
But why was there that gleam of humor in his eyes? It was almost as if he were mocking her. No, not mocking her—teasing her, more like. That reminded her of Rhett. Except that this man’s eyes held none of the hard and bitter sarcasm she’d grown accustomed to seeing in her husband’s.
How odd that this stranger should remind her of both Ashley and Rhett. For a brief moment, Scarlett wondered if she were attracted to him. But she dismissed that notion at once.
This man wasn’t even a gentleman—although that fact didn’t trouble her. After all, she had let her sister marry Will Benteen, and he was what her plantation neighbors called a ‘cracker.’ But Will was worth any ten gentlemen that Scarlett knew. She might soon feel the same about Adam Cartwright.
No, it wasn’t Mr. Cartwright’s lack of birth and breeding that made Scarlett dismiss him. She was too single-minded. Where romance was concerned, she had only one goal: to win back Rhett’s heart.
Any relationship with this Mr. Cartwright would have to remain strictly business.
And so Scarlett went straight to the heart of the matter. She offered Mr. Cartwright a very reasonable wage—she didn’t want to risk some other businessman snatching him away. Then she explained precisely what she expected from him.
*
Mrs. Scarlett O’Hara Hamilton Kennedy Butler was a fierce taskmaster, Adam discovered. But, to give her credit, she was a shrewd businesswoman with a good head on her shoulders—at least when it came to dollars and sense.
She was not so wise when it came to dealing with other people. Oh, she knew how to sweet talk her customers and steer them toward more expensive merchandise. But in the week that he’d been working for her, Adam found out that Scarlett was an outcast from her own social class.
Adam disliked the class structure of the South—or of any part of the country, for that matter. Americans, he felt, should never ask who your father was.
But Scarlett had been born and raised on the Southern caste system. Adam wondered if she realized that it didn’t hold sway everywhere. A girl like Scarlett really belonged in New York City or out West—someplace where her grit and determination would count for more than the Robillard blood she had inherited from her mother.
Adam had watched Scarlett hold her chin up proudly when Mrs. Merriwether—one of the matriarchs of Atlanta—openly cut her. But she marched into her office afterward, slammed the door and—judging by the sound of something shattering—smashed whatever bric-a-brac she had lying about.
He exchanged glances with the other two store employees. They both looked grateful to be out of the line of fire. Adam sighed and made his way to the office. He knocked on the door twice, but there was no response. Finally he opened it and let himself inside.
“What do you want, Mr. Cartwright?” Scarlett asked brusquely. She was seated behind her desk with her hands folded demurely in front of her. But her green eyes were flashing and he could see the shattered remains of some knickknack or other off to the side.
There were also papers scattered about the floor—papers with neat, dense handwriting.
Adam didn’t respond to her question. He just knelt down and started cleaning up the mess.
“Don’t bother with that, Mr. Cartwright,” Scarlett told him. “I’ll take care of it later.”
“It’s no problem,” he assured her as he collected the papers. Some of the writing caught his eye, however. It appeared to be a story of some sort—a bloody story about the war.
He peered intently at Scarlett. She didn’t strike him as the sort of woman who indulged in writing fiction.
“What is this?” he asked.
“Never mind that,” she answered sharply. “It’s just something Ashley wrote.”
“Ashley?” Adam asked.
“Mr. Wilkes,” she corrected. “He’s—he’s an in-law of mine. My first husband, Charles Hamilton, was his cousin. And Ashley married Melanie Hamilton, Charlie’s sister.”
“Would you mind if I read it?”
She looked surprised at his interest. “I suppose you may, if you think you can stomach his nonsense,” she answered.
Adam grinned. “I’m willing to try.”
Scarlett shrugged as he finished cleaning the mess. Adam set the papers—now neatly in order—aside and turned back to her.
She was still furious at her encounter with Mrs. Merriwether. And unless Adam was far off his mark, she was hurt and bewildered as well.
“Would you like some fresh air, Mrs. Butler?” he asked. “I’d be happy to get your carriage and take you out for a drive.”
“I’m more than capable of driving myself,” she snapped. “Heaven knows I’ve done it often enough—it gives the old cats of this town one more reason to disapprove of me.”
Adam accepted her outburst with equanimity. “Would you like me to fetch your carriage?” he repeated.
She stared at him for a long moment. She seemed annoyed at his persistence, but at length her glare softened.
“Yes,” she answered at last. “Please do. And I—I wouldn’t mind the company.”
*
Scarlett was already at her desk the next day when Mr. Cartwright made his way into the shop. She had left her home early, annoyed with everything and everyone. She sighed and took a sip of the bitter prune juice she had brought to her desk. She wanted something stronger, but even Scarlett couldn’t justify drinking brandy so early in the morning.
If only Rhett hadn’t walked out on her! Wade and Ella wouldn’t be so unmanageable, Pork wouldn’t frown at her the way he did and Mammy—why, perhaps Mammy would agree to leave Tara and return to Atlanta.
Even Tara itself had lost some of its luster. Scarlett still loved every inch of the red earth there, but her sister Suellen was now the mistress of the house. Each time Scarlett went back to Tara for succor and strength she had the headache of putting up with Suellen’s endless airs and prattling—not to mention the temper tantrums of the spoiled brats she was raising.
Scarlett brought her mind back to the present and glanced at the clock. Mr. Cartwright was precisely on time. What a pity—she was aching to reprimand someone.
He strode into her office whistling a tune under his breath. He paused to tip his hat at her, and then he set Ashley’s manuscript on her desk.
“Do you know what you have here?” he asked her as he pulled up a chair on the opposite side of her desk.
She shrugged. “Some story about the war. Ashley can’t get past it—he keeps longing for the old days before the war turned everything upside down. That’s why he’s no use to anyone now.”
With that she turned back to a long column of figures. But she could feel Mr. Cartwright staring at her.
“Mrs. Butler,” he said at length, “this is a masterpiece. It’s taut and gripping. I couldn’t put it down—I had to finish it last night. Now, it needs a decent publisher, but I know just the man in New York. Then with the right publicity—”
Scarlett tore her eyes away from the figures and stared dumbstruck at Adam. “Do you mean tell me that Ashley—that his writing might be worth something?”
He laughed. “Mr. Wilkes has a goldmine here. He’s that good.”
“But—” Scarlett stopped, trying to comprehend him. “You don’t understand. Ashley has no business sense—why, I still have to help him with the mills or he’d run them into the ground. And he has no notion of how to manage money. And he couldn’t even farm when he and Melly lived at Tara.”
Adam shrugged. “That may all be true, but it doesn’t preclude him from being a great author. I’d like you to introduce me to him, if you don’t mind.”
Scarlett bit her lip. Her brain was racing ahead. “Do you suppose we could make money from Ashley’s book?” she asked suddenly.
“Ashley and the publisher stand to make the money,” Adam answered, narrowing his eyes at her.
“Why shouldn’t we publish the book?” she returned. “Why let some New York publisher get his hands on it?”
“Because neither of us knows the first thing about the publishing business—we’d never do his book justice.”
“Well, we can learn, can’t we?” Scarlett demanded. “Just let me speak with Ashley. I’ll convince him—”
“Why are you so determined, Mrs. Butler?” Adam interrupted. “Why not let an expert handle the manuscript? You don’t need the money.”
Scarlett wasn’t aware of it, but her eyes hardened at that. “There’s never enough money, Mr. Cartwright. Once I thought—I thought that I could stand to be poor again. But I know now that I’ll never let that happen.”
“I don’t think you’re in any danger of poverty,” he said dryly.
She shrugged. “I don’t intend to be either. I’ll speak with Ashley tonight. I’ll offer to buy the rights to his manual and make it seem like I’m doing him a favor. Then we can publish it now and perhaps resell it later—”
Adam laughed and shook his head at her, causing Scarlett to shoot a suspicious glance at him.
“What are you thinking?” she demanded.
“I’m thinking that if you weren’t another man’s wife, I’d put you over my knee,” he answered amiably.
Scarlett felt her mouth pop open at that. She’d been itching to fight with someone today and he had just left the door open for her.
She stood up, grabbed the glass of prune juice and threw the contents at his face. Then she watched with satisfaction as he took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the dark, sticky liquid off.
But her satisfaction was short lived. Scarlett could never think of the ensuing scene without cringing.
Husband or no husband, Adam had narrowed his eyes at her and then walked around the desk to grab hold of her. Scarlett had backed away from him—but not on time. Before she knew it he had dragged her across his knee. Not even her bustle saved her. By the time he stood her on her feet again Scarlett had a new found respect for both his presumption and the strength of his arm.
She felt her face burn with fury as she glared at him. “You had no right to do that!”
He stared at her for a long moment. His eyes seemed to show some inner conflict.
At length he sighed. “No, I didn’t,” he agreed. “I have no authority over you. I’m sorry.”
Scarlett narrowed her eyes at him, wondering just what he was apologizing for. “Are you sorry that you—that you spanked me, or just sorry that you didn’t have the authority to do so?”
He laughed at that as he folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the wall. “Touché,” he said. “No, I’m not sorry that I spanked you. You deserved that.”
Despite her best efforts, she felt an answering smile jump to her lips. Why was it so difficult to stay angry with this man?
“I am sorry about the juice,” she owned. “I’ve—I’ve been upset all morning. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
Adam nodded. “Apology accepted. Look, why don’t we speak to Mr. Wilkes together? You can still make your offer—and I’m sure you’ll find a way to twist him around your finger. But he should know all his options.”
Scarlett thought that over. “I suppose there’s nothing unreasonable about that,” she admitted. “Very well—I’ll introduce you to Ashley this evening. Now would you take care of these books?”
He raised his eyebrows at that. “I thought you never allowed anyone else to do the accounting.”
“I don’t,” she said, slanting her eyes at him. “But as it happens, Mr. Cartwright, I don’t care to sit down at the moment. Now will do as I ask?”
Adam laughed again. “Yes Ma’am.”
LINK TO PART THREE
Genre: Fan Fiction Crossover (Bonanza-Gone With The Wind)
Rating: PG
Link to Part One
~
“Sit down, Mr. Cartwright.”
He nodded his head at that and moved to obey her. Scarlett caught a gleam in his eye, however, as he seated himself on the opposite side of her desk. She frowned, wondering what he found so amusing.
Scarlett peered intently at him. He had certainly proved himself useful today, this Adam Cartwright.
There’d been no time to speak with him about his wages after he hauled in the crates of china, but instead of idling about he had put himself to work. She knew now that he had a fine head for figures, that he had a good eye for displaying merchandise and that his manners were friendly and pleasing.
He had a good speaking voice too—a pleasant baritone. But she couldn’t place his accent. She could tell that he wasn’t Southerner, but she didn’t trust her ear enough to guess any further. Why, he might have served under Sherman in the Yankee army, for all she knew. Or he might be a carpetbagger. Or he might have been with the Freedmen’s Bureau.
But if he had been a Union soldier, he wasn’t in uniform now. Scarlett could overlook his service in the Yankee army so long as he didn’t flaunt it.
And since the worst of the Reconstruction was over, most carpetbaggers had fled Atlanta. Besides, Scarlett knew all about carpetbaggers—she’d had to pretend friendship with them in the wake of Georgia’s defeat. This man didn’t seem like one of those ‘new people’ who had come like vultures to pick on the Confederacy’s remains.
And if he had worked with the Freedmen’s Bureau—well, amidst all the corrupt carpetbaggers in that institution, there were a few hopeless idealists. If this man believed that blacks were the equals of whites and should be treated as such—well, that was his own concern. It made no difference to Scarlett.
She narrowed her eyes at him. There was something about him that reminded her of Ashley. Ashley was an idealist too—that was it. But at least this man seemed to have more sense than Ashley.
And so she dismissed her three worst fears about Mr. Cartwright. But one nagging doubt remained—he couldn’t possibly be desperate for work. Someone with his brains and manners could do better than to work as hired help in a mercantile.
Of course, he’d never claimed to be desperate. Scarlett had just assumed that he was because he didn’t dress like a gentleman. But what did it matter? He was here, he was willing to work for her and she suspected that he was worth his weight in gold. There was no sense looking a gift horse in the mouth.
But why was there that gleam of humor in his eyes? It was almost as if he were mocking her. No, not mocking her—teasing her, more like. That reminded her of Rhett. Except that this man’s eyes held none of the hard and bitter sarcasm she’d grown accustomed to seeing in her husband’s.
How odd that this stranger should remind her of both Ashley and Rhett. For a brief moment, Scarlett wondered if she were attracted to him. But she dismissed that notion at once.
This man wasn’t even a gentleman—although that fact didn’t trouble her. After all, she had let her sister marry Will Benteen, and he was what her plantation neighbors called a ‘cracker.’ But Will was worth any ten gentlemen that Scarlett knew. She might soon feel the same about Adam Cartwright.
No, it wasn’t Mr. Cartwright’s lack of birth and breeding that made Scarlett dismiss him. She was too single-minded. Where romance was concerned, she had only one goal: to win back Rhett’s heart.
Any relationship with this Mr. Cartwright would have to remain strictly business.
And so Scarlett went straight to the heart of the matter. She offered Mr. Cartwright a very reasonable wage—she didn’t want to risk some other businessman snatching him away. Then she explained precisely what she expected from him.
*
Mrs. Scarlett O’Hara Hamilton Kennedy Butler was a fierce taskmaster, Adam discovered. But, to give her credit, she was a shrewd businesswoman with a good head on her shoulders—at least when it came to dollars and sense.
She was not so wise when it came to dealing with other people. Oh, she knew how to sweet talk her customers and steer them toward more expensive merchandise. But in the week that he’d been working for her, Adam found out that Scarlett was an outcast from her own social class.
Adam disliked the class structure of the South—or of any part of the country, for that matter. Americans, he felt, should never ask who your father was.
But Scarlett had been born and raised on the Southern caste system. Adam wondered if she realized that it didn’t hold sway everywhere. A girl like Scarlett really belonged in New York City or out West—someplace where her grit and determination would count for more than the Robillard blood she had inherited from her mother.
Adam had watched Scarlett hold her chin up proudly when Mrs. Merriwether—one of the matriarchs of Atlanta—openly cut her. But she marched into her office afterward, slammed the door and—judging by the sound of something shattering—smashed whatever bric-a-brac she had lying about.
He exchanged glances with the other two store employees. They both looked grateful to be out of the line of fire. Adam sighed and made his way to the office. He knocked on the door twice, but there was no response. Finally he opened it and let himself inside.
“What do you want, Mr. Cartwright?” Scarlett asked brusquely. She was seated behind her desk with her hands folded demurely in front of her. But her green eyes were flashing and he could see the shattered remains of some knickknack or other off to the side.
There were also papers scattered about the floor—papers with neat, dense handwriting.
Adam didn’t respond to her question. He just knelt down and started cleaning up the mess.
“Don’t bother with that, Mr. Cartwright,” Scarlett told him. “I’ll take care of it later.”
“It’s no problem,” he assured her as he collected the papers. Some of the writing caught his eye, however. It appeared to be a story of some sort—a bloody story about the war.
He peered intently at Scarlett. She didn’t strike him as the sort of woman who indulged in writing fiction.
“What is this?” he asked.
“Never mind that,” she answered sharply. “It’s just something Ashley wrote.”
“Ashley?” Adam asked.
“Mr. Wilkes,” she corrected. “He’s—he’s an in-law of mine. My first husband, Charles Hamilton, was his cousin. And Ashley married Melanie Hamilton, Charlie’s sister.”
“Would you mind if I read it?”
She looked surprised at his interest. “I suppose you may, if you think you can stomach his nonsense,” she answered.
Adam grinned. “I’m willing to try.”
Scarlett shrugged as he finished cleaning the mess. Adam set the papers—now neatly in order—aside and turned back to her.
She was still furious at her encounter with Mrs. Merriwether. And unless Adam was far off his mark, she was hurt and bewildered as well.
“Would you like some fresh air, Mrs. Butler?” he asked. “I’d be happy to get your carriage and take you out for a drive.”
“I’m more than capable of driving myself,” she snapped. “Heaven knows I’ve done it often enough—it gives the old cats of this town one more reason to disapprove of me.”
Adam accepted her outburst with equanimity. “Would you like me to fetch your carriage?” he repeated.
She stared at him for a long moment. She seemed annoyed at his persistence, but at length her glare softened.
“Yes,” she answered at last. “Please do. And I—I wouldn’t mind the company.”
*
Scarlett was already at her desk the next day when Mr. Cartwright made his way into the shop. She had left her home early, annoyed with everything and everyone. She sighed and took a sip of the bitter prune juice she had brought to her desk. She wanted something stronger, but even Scarlett couldn’t justify drinking brandy so early in the morning.
If only Rhett hadn’t walked out on her! Wade and Ella wouldn’t be so unmanageable, Pork wouldn’t frown at her the way he did and Mammy—why, perhaps Mammy would agree to leave Tara and return to Atlanta.
Even Tara itself had lost some of its luster. Scarlett still loved every inch of the red earth there, but her sister Suellen was now the mistress of the house. Each time Scarlett went back to Tara for succor and strength she had the headache of putting up with Suellen’s endless airs and prattling—not to mention the temper tantrums of the spoiled brats she was raising.
Scarlett brought her mind back to the present and glanced at the clock. Mr. Cartwright was precisely on time. What a pity—she was aching to reprimand someone.
He strode into her office whistling a tune under his breath. He paused to tip his hat at her, and then he set Ashley’s manuscript on her desk.
“Do you know what you have here?” he asked her as he pulled up a chair on the opposite side of her desk.
She shrugged. “Some story about the war. Ashley can’t get past it—he keeps longing for the old days before the war turned everything upside down. That’s why he’s no use to anyone now.”
With that she turned back to a long column of figures. But she could feel Mr. Cartwright staring at her.
“Mrs. Butler,” he said at length, “this is a masterpiece. It’s taut and gripping. I couldn’t put it down—I had to finish it last night. Now, it needs a decent publisher, but I know just the man in New York. Then with the right publicity—”
Scarlett tore her eyes away from the figures and stared dumbstruck at Adam. “Do you mean tell me that Ashley—that his writing might be worth something?”
He laughed. “Mr. Wilkes has a goldmine here. He’s that good.”
“But—” Scarlett stopped, trying to comprehend him. “You don’t understand. Ashley has no business sense—why, I still have to help him with the mills or he’d run them into the ground. And he has no notion of how to manage money. And he couldn’t even farm when he and Melly lived at Tara.”
Adam shrugged. “That may all be true, but it doesn’t preclude him from being a great author. I’d like you to introduce me to him, if you don’t mind.”
Scarlett bit her lip. Her brain was racing ahead. “Do you suppose we could make money from Ashley’s book?” she asked suddenly.
“Ashley and the publisher stand to make the money,” Adam answered, narrowing his eyes at her.
“Why shouldn’t we publish the book?” she returned. “Why let some New York publisher get his hands on it?”
“Because neither of us knows the first thing about the publishing business—we’d never do his book justice.”
“Well, we can learn, can’t we?” Scarlett demanded. “Just let me speak with Ashley. I’ll convince him—”
“Why are you so determined, Mrs. Butler?” Adam interrupted. “Why not let an expert handle the manuscript? You don’t need the money.”
Scarlett wasn’t aware of it, but her eyes hardened at that. “There’s never enough money, Mr. Cartwright. Once I thought—I thought that I could stand to be poor again. But I know now that I’ll never let that happen.”
“I don’t think you’re in any danger of poverty,” he said dryly.
She shrugged. “I don’t intend to be either. I’ll speak with Ashley tonight. I’ll offer to buy the rights to his manual and make it seem like I’m doing him a favor. Then we can publish it now and perhaps resell it later—”
Adam laughed and shook his head at her, causing Scarlett to shoot a suspicious glance at him.
“What are you thinking?” she demanded.
“I’m thinking that if you weren’t another man’s wife, I’d put you over my knee,” he answered amiably.
Scarlett felt her mouth pop open at that. She’d been itching to fight with someone today and he had just left the door open for her.
She stood up, grabbed the glass of prune juice and threw the contents at his face. Then she watched with satisfaction as he took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the dark, sticky liquid off.
But her satisfaction was short lived. Scarlett could never think of the ensuing scene without cringing.
Husband or no husband, Adam had narrowed his eyes at her and then walked around the desk to grab hold of her. Scarlett had backed away from him—but not on time. Before she knew it he had dragged her across his knee. Not even her bustle saved her. By the time he stood her on her feet again Scarlett had a new found respect for both his presumption and the strength of his arm.
She felt her face burn with fury as she glared at him. “You had no right to do that!”
He stared at her for a long moment. His eyes seemed to show some inner conflict.
At length he sighed. “No, I didn’t,” he agreed. “I have no authority over you. I’m sorry.”
Scarlett narrowed her eyes at him, wondering just what he was apologizing for. “Are you sorry that you—that you spanked me, or just sorry that you didn’t have the authority to do so?”
He laughed at that as he folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the wall. “Touché,” he said. “No, I’m not sorry that I spanked you. You deserved that.”
Despite her best efforts, she felt an answering smile jump to her lips. Why was it so difficult to stay angry with this man?
“I am sorry about the juice,” she owned. “I’ve—I’ve been upset all morning. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
Adam nodded. “Apology accepted. Look, why don’t we speak to Mr. Wilkes together? You can still make your offer—and I’m sure you’ll find a way to twist him around your finger. But he should know all his options.”
Scarlett thought that over. “I suppose there’s nothing unreasonable about that,” she admitted. “Very well—I’ll introduce you to Ashley this evening. Now would you take care of these books?”
He raised his eyebrows at that. “I thought you never allowed anyone else to do the accounting.”
“I don’t,” she said, slanting her eyes at him. “But as it happens, Mr. Cartwright, I don’t care to sit down at the moment. Now will do as I ask?”
Adam laughed again. “Yes Ma’am.”
LINK TO PART THREE
Tara at Dusk, Part One
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Fan Fiction Crossover (Bonanza-Gone With The Wind)
Rating: PG
Summary: A chance encounter with a little runaway leads Adam to the girl's mother--Scarlett O'Hara. Adam soon finds himself falling for the green-eyed vixen...
~
“Sit down, Mr. Cartwright.”
It was an order, not a request. Adam took that in good part, however. He had a keen appreciation for the ridiculous—and he found it amusing to have this green-eyed vixen boss him around.
Should he ask himself how it came to this? No, it was a pointless question. He knew full well where it began. It started right when he returned little Miss Ella to her home on Peachtree Street—and got a glimpse of her mother’s green eyes…
*
Adam stared at the little girl who appeared to be by herself. He frowned—Atlanta had managed to rebuild after the war, but it wasn’t always a safe city. It certainly wasn’t a good place for a little girl to wander the streets at night.
She was about seven years old, by his reckoning. She was standing on a corner, looking confused as she turned her head from side to side. Perhaps she was lost. Adam walked up to her and tipped his hat. Then he crouched down so that they’d be eye to eye.
“Good evening, Miss,” he said. “Are you having trouble finding your way home?”
She took a step back and gave him a weary look. Adam took that in good part and did nothing to frighten her further. He kept still and let her take her time answering him. She finally rewarded him with a shy smile.
“No,” she confided. “I just left my home.”
“Ah,” Adam managed, as if it were quite natural for a little girl to leave her home unescorted at night. “Where are you heading?”
“Charleston,” she answered.
“Charleston?” he repeated, raising his eyebrows. “That’s quite a distance. Why Charleston?”
She shrugged. “My step father talks about Charleston. He just went there. On—on business, I think. From what he said, I think it’s far away from my mother.”
Adam narrowed his eyes at that, wondering what she had against her mother. She looked well fed and well cared for. She didn’t look abused—but then you couldn’t always tell.
“Why do you want to be far away from your mother?” he asked.
She bit her lip. “I—I don’t think she wants me,” she stammered. “She never talks to me or pays attention to me.”
“Well, she must pay some attention to you,” he said encouragingly. “That’s a very pretty dress you’re wearing. Did your mother buy it for you?”
The girl looked down at her dress. “I suppose. But Bonnie had prettier dresses.”
“Who’s Bonnie?” he asked.
“My little sister. She died. Her pony threw her.”
Adam’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Did that happen recently?”
The girl nodded.
Adam considered his words. “Your mother must miss your little sister terribly,” he pointed out. “Maybe that’s why she’s not paying much attention to you now.”
“Maybe,” she answered, but she didn’t look convinced.
Adam sighed. “People do strange things when they’re grieving. Even if it seems like your mother is ignoring you, I’ll bet she could really use your company. Why don’t I bring you home for now—you can always go to Charleston later.”
He held out his hand. She stared at it, considering his offer. At length she nodded and placed her hand in his.
“My mother will be angry when I get home,” she said in a small voice. “She yells sometimes—she has a temper.”
Adam smiled at that as he stood up. “She’s probably sick with worry right about now. She might scream a bit—but I’m sure she’ll forget her anger afterwards. Now where do you live Miss…”
He let his voice trail off, hoping that she would supply her name.
“I'm Miss Ella Kennedy," she answered, looking up at him. "But my mother’s name is Mrs. Butler. She’s been married three times,” Ella continued. “If you put all her names together, she’s Mrs. Scarlett O’Hara Hamilton Kennedy Butler.”
“That’s quite a mouthful,” he said with a grin. “My name is Adam Cartwright. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Ella. Now let’s see about getting you home.”
*
Adam stared at the Peachtree Street monstrosity. It was quite possibly the most vulgar mansion he had ever seen.
“This is your home?” he asked the little girl at his side.
Ella nodded as her grip on his hand tightened. “My mother said that she wanted all her neighbors to be pea-green with envy,” she confided.
Adam bit back a laugh. “Well, I’m sure it’s made them pea green,” he commented as he scooped her up into his arms. “Come on—let’s get you inside.”
“Wait!” Ella said. “Will you stay? Maybe my mother won’t holler if you’re there.”
He gave her a wink as he walked up to the house. “You did leave the house all alone after dark,” he reminded her. “I think your mother has a right to do some hollering.”
She blushed at that—but she smiled a little bit too.
The massive front door opened before they made it up the walk and a black servant ran outside. Judging by his fine starched clothes he was the butler. He was obviously frantic for Ella. He hurried up to them, scolding the little girl along the way. Adam handed her over to him and followed him as he carried her toward the house.
“Thank you, sir,” the man said over his shoulder. “Where did you find her?”
“Not too far away,” Adam assured him.
“Adam says I should wait to go to Charleston,” Ella told him.
“Charleston! Oh, sweet Lord,” the man said, shaking his head at her. “Why did you get it into your head to go to Charleston?”
“Pork!” a voice called out. “Is that Ella?”
Adam stared up at the front door again. A pale woman was running out toward them.
Perhaps she wasn’t that pale—perhaps it was just the severe black of her dress. This must be 'Mrs. Scarlett O’Hara Hamilton Kennedy Butler,' as Ella had named her.
She was in mourning, Adam reminded himself. She had lost her youngest daughter to a riding accident and then someone called ‘Aunt Melly’ to childbed. From Ella’s chattering, Adam gathered that Melly was Mrs. Butler’s sister-in-law.
“Yes, Miss Scarlett,” the butler answered as she reached them. “It is. She’s safe and sound. This kind man brought her home.”
'Miss Scarlett' turned to Adam. Even in the dim lamplight, he made out a pair of extraordinary green eyes—pale green without a touch of hazel.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m so glad she fell into good hands.”
She said the words mechanically, he noticed. She wasn’t paying any real heed to him—her eyes were fixed on her daughter. But there was as much annoyance in them as concern.
Adam tipped his hat at her. He was about to ask if he might call tomorrow afternoon and inquire after Ella, but Mrs. Butler spoke again before he had the chance.
She was digging into her reticule as she spoke. “Here, take this,” she told him, handing him a silver dollar. “And if you’re hungry I’m sure our cook can find you something. Just go right around the back.”
Adam stared at her for a moment. True, he wasn’t dressed to the nines. He wore no waistcoat or cravat—but he hadn’t expected to be taken for a pauper. But Atlanta was crawling with men looking for work, he reminded himself. Apparently Mrs. Butler assumed that he was one of them.
“Thank you kindly, Ma’am,” he said, biting back a grin as he pocketed the silver dollar. “I’ll be on my way.”
She nodded and turned on her heel. Adam watched her march inside, followed by the servant—was Pork his name?—and Ella.
“Goodbye Adam!” Ella called out, looking over Pork’s shoulder to wave at him.
“Goodbye sweetheart,” he called back. Then he turned and made his way back to his flat.
*
Adam waited a few days before inquiring after Ella. He wasn’t sure what he could do for the young lady. The child was practically crying for attention. But from his brief interaction with her mother, he would guess that she was impatient and neglectful.
At least Pork seemed to care for her. Adam would be happy to spend more time with the little girl as well, but he couldn’t think how to bring that about.
He didn’t go back to the hideous mansion on Peachtree Street—he’d no mind to be shown the kitchen. But Ella had told him about the mercantile her mother owned near Atlanta’s Five Points. He decided to make his way there instead.
He didn’t dress up for the occasion. Why disillusion Mrs. Butler regarding his pauper status?
To his surprise, Mrs. Butler was standing outside the store when he arrived. She was giving some lazy worker the rough side of her tongue. Adam leaned against the front of the store and raised his eyebrows at the scene.
Southern aristocratic women—no matter how poor they might be in the aftermath of the war—had impeccable standards when it came to behavior. Most wouldn’t be caught dead standing outside a shop, haranguing some unfortunate laborer. But Mrs. Butler must have been cut from a different cloth. This particular Southern aristocrat should be out West, Adam thought. People out there understood that a woman could own a shop and get her Irish up when a worker didn’t do his job to her satisfaction.
The worker in question had ignored the crates of china that were waiting in the wagon out front. Mrs. Butler cut off his excuses and fired him on the spot, declaring that she’d sooner haul them in herself than give him another cent.
She marched over to the wagon, intending to do just that. Adam rushed to her side and picked up the first crate for her.
“Allow me, Ma’am,” he said.
She raised her green eyes to him and let go of the crate. “Why, you’re the man who brought Ella home,” she said.
“Yes, I am,” Adam agreed.
She took a step back and considered him. “You seem respectable enough,” she said at length. “And I suppose the least I can do is give you a job. When you finish bringing those crates inside come into the office. Then you can sit down and we’ll discuss your wages.”
With that she turned around and swept back into the store, leaving Adam to stare in her wake. She hadn’t even bothered to wait for his response.
Adam let out a low laugh as he carried the first crate inside. It was going to be an interesting day.
LINK TO PART TWO
Genre: Fan Fiction Crossover (Bonanza-Gone With The Wind)
Rating: PG
Summary: A chance encounter with a little runaway leads Adam to the girl's mother--Scarlett O'Hara. Adam soon finds himself falling for the green-eyed vixen...
~
“Sit down, Mr. Cartwright.”
It was an order, not a request. Adam took that in good part, however. He had a keen appreciation for the ridiculous—and he found it amusing to have this green-eyed vixen boss him around.
Should he ask himself how it came to this? No, it was a pointless question. He knew full well where it began. It started right when he returned little Miss Ella to her home on Peachtree Street—and got a glimpse of her mother’s green eyes…
*
Adam stared at the little girl who appeared to be by herself. He frowned—Atlanta had managed to rebuild after the war, but it wasn’t always a safe city. It certainly wasn’t a good place for a little girl to wander the streets at night.
She was about seven years old, by his reckoning. She was standing on a corner, looking confused as she turned her head from side to side. Perhaps she was lost. Adam walked up to her and tipped his hat. Then he crouched down so that they’d be eye to eye.
“Good evening, Miss,” he said. “Are you having trouble finding your way home?”
She took a step back and gave him a weary look. Adam took that in good part and did nothing to frighten her further. He kept still and let her take her time answering him. She finally rewarded him with a shy smile.
“No,” she confided. “I just left my home.”
“Ah,” Adam managed, as if it were quite natural for a little girl to leave her home unescorted at night. “Where are you heading?”
“Charleston,” she answered.
“Charleston?” he repeated, raising his eyebrows. “That’s quite a distance. Why Charleston?”
She shrugged. “My step father talks about Charleston. He just went there. On—on business, I think. From what he said, I think it’s far away from my mother.”
Adam narrowed his eyes at that, wondering what she had against her mother. She looked well fed and well cared for. She didn’t look abused—but then you couldn’t always tell.
“Why do you want to be far away from your mother?” he asked.
She bit her lip. “I—I don’t think she wants me,” she stammered. “She never talks to me or pays attention to me.”
“Well, she must pay some attention to you,” he said encouragingly. “That’s a very pretty dress you’re wearing. Did your mother buy it for you?”
The girl looked down at her dress. “I suppose. But Bonnie had prettier dresses.”
“Who’s Bonnie?” he asked.
“My little sister. She died. Her pony threw her.”
Adam’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Did that happen recently?”
The girl nodded.
Adam considered his words. “Your mother must miss your little sister terribly,” he pointed out. “Maybe that’s why she’s not paying much attention to you now.”
“Maybe,” she answered, but she didn’t look convinced.
Adam sighed. “People do strange things when they’re grieving. Even if it seems like your mother is ignoring you, I’ll bet she could really use your company. Why don’t I bring you home for now—you can always go to Charleston later.”
He held out his hand. She stared at it, considering his offer. At length she nodded and placed her hand in his.
“My mother will be angry when I get home,” she said in a small voice. “She yells sometimes—she has a temper.”
Adam smiled at that as he stood up. “She’s probably sick with worry right about now. She might scream a bit—but I’m sure she’ll forget her anger afterwards. Now where do you live Miss…”
He let his voice trail off, hoping that she would supply her name.
“I'm Miss Ella Kennedy," she answered, looking up at him. "But my mother’s name is Mrs. Butler. She’s been married three times,” Ella continued. “If you put all her names together, she’s Mrs. Scarlett O’Hara Hamilton Kennedy Butler.”
“That’s quite a mouthful,” he said with a grin. “My name is Adam Cartwright. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Ella. Now let’s see about getting you home.”
*
Adam stared at the Peachtree Street monstrosity. It was quite possibly the most vulgar mansion he had ever seen.
“This is your home?” he asked the little girl at his side.
Ella nodded as her grip on his hand tightened. “My mother said that she wanted all her neighbors to be pea-green with envy,” she confided.
Adam bit back a laugh. “Well, I’m sure it’s made them pea green,” he commented as he scooped her up into his arms. “Come on—let’s get you inside.”
“Wait!” Ella said. “Will you stay? Maybe my mother won’t holler if you’re there.”
He gave her a wink as he walked up to the house. “You did leave the house all alone after dark,” he reminded her. “I think your mother has a right to do some hollering.”
She blushed at that—but she smiled a little bit too.
The massive front door opened before they made it up the walk and a black servant ran outside. Judging by his fine starched clothes he was the butler. He was obviously frantic for Ella. He hurried up to them, scolding the little girl along the way. Adam handed her over to him and followed him as he carried her toward the house.
“Thank you, sir,” the man said over his shoulder. “Where did you find her?”
“Not too far away,” Adam assured him.
“Adam says I should wait to go to Charleston,” Ella told him.
“Charleston! Oh, sweet Lord,” the man said, shaking his head at her. “Why did you get it into your head to go to Charleston?”
“Pork!” a voice called out. “Is that Ella?”
Adam stared up at the front door again. A pale woman was running out toward them.
Perhaps she wasn’t that pale—perhaps it was just the severe black of her dress. This must be 'Mrs. Scarlett O’Hara Hamilton Kennedy Butler,' as Ella had named her.
She was in mourning, Adam reminded himself. She had lost her youngest daughter to a riding accident and then someone called ‘Aunt Melly’ to childbed. From Ella’s chattering, Adam gathered that Melly was Mrs. Butler’s sister-in-law.
“Yes, Miss Scarlett,” the butler answered as she reached them. “It is. She’s safe and sound. This kind man brought her home.”
'Miss Scarlett' turned to Adam. Even in the dim lamplight, he made out a pair of extraordinary green eyes—pale green without a touch of hazel.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m so glad she fell into good hands.”
She said the words mechanically, he noticed. She wasn’t paying any real heed to him—her eyes were fixed on her daughter. But there was as much annoyance in them as concern.
Adam tipped his hat at her. He was about to ask if he might call tomorrow afternoon and inquire after Ella, but Mrs. Butler spoke again before he had the chance.
She was digging into her reticule as she spoke. “Here, take this,” she told him, handing him a silver dollar. “And if you’re hungry I’m sure our cook can find you something. Just go right around the back.”
Adam stared at her for a moment. True, he wasn’t dressed to the nines. He wore no waistcoat or cravat—but he hadn’t expected to be taken for a pauper. But Atlanta was crawling with men looking for work, he reminded himself. Apparently Mrs. Butler assumed that he was one of them.
“Thank you kindly, Ma’am,” he said, biting back a grin as he pocketed the silver dollar. “I’ll be on my way.”
She nodded and turned on her heel. Adam watched her march inside, followed by the servant—was Pork his name?—and Ella.
“Goodbye Adam!” Ella called out, looking over Pork’s shoulder to wave at him.
“Goodbye sweetheart,” he called back. Then he turned and made his way back to his flat.
*
Adam waited a few days before inquiring after Ella. He wasn’t sure what he could do for the young lady. The child was practically crying for attention. But from his brief interaction with her mother, he would guess that she was impatient and neglectful.
At least Pork seemed to care for her. Adam would be happy to spend more time with the little girl as well, but he couldn’t think how to bring that about.
He didn’t go back to the hideous mansion on Peachtree Street—he’d no mind to be shown the kitchen. But Ella had told him about the mercantile her mother owned near Atlanta’s Five Points. He decided to make his way there instead.
He didn’t dress up for the occasion. Why disillusion Mrs. Butler regarding his pauper status?
To his surprise, Mrs. Butler was standing outside the store when he arrived. She was giving some lazy worker the rough side of her tongue. Adam leaned against the front of the store and raised his eyebrows at the scene.
Southern aristocratic women—no matter how poor they might be in the aftermath of the war—had impeccable standards when it came to behavior. Most wouldn’t be caught dead standing outside a shop, haranguing some unfortunate laborer. But Mrs. Butler must have been cut from a different cloth. This particular Southern aristocrat should be out West, Adam thought. People out there understood that a woman could own a shop and get her Irish up when a worker didn’t do his job to her satisfaction.
The worker in question had ignored the crates of china that were waiting in the wagon out front. Mrs. Butler cut off his excuses and fired him on the spot, declaring that she’d sooner haul them in herself than give him another cent.
She marched over to the wagon, intending to do just that. Adam rushed to her side and picked up the first crate for her.
“Allow me, Ma’am,” he said.
She raised her green eyes to him and let go of the crate. “Why, you’re the man who brought Ella home,” she said.
“Yes, I am,” Adam agreed.
She took a step back and considered him. “You seem respectable enough,” she said at length. “And I suppose the least I can do is give you a job. When you finish bringing those crates inside come into the office. Then you can sit down and we’ll discuss your wages.”
With that she turned around and swept back into the store, leaving Adam to stare in her wake. She hadn’t even bothered to wait for his response.
Adam let out a low laugh as he carried the first crate inside. It was going to be an interesting day.
LINK TO PART TWO
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