Summary: While working on her latest story, an author gets a surprise visit.
Word Count: 778
“Adam took his customary seat in the blue chair near the staircase after dinner…”
The writer sat at her computer table, happily clicking away with the latest installment of her WIP, when she heard a slightly familiar voice coming from behind her. Turning, she couldn’t contain a gasp of shock as she saw Joe Cartwright approach. He was wearing his trademark tan shirt and pants, green jacket, and sand colored Stetson.
“I want a word with you,” he demanded, taking his hat off. He looked down for a moment before lifting sad eyes. “I though you were supposed to be a JAM – what did I do to make you so angry?”
She was stunned; she was having a nervous breakdown, had to be. Standing, she answered, “I was a JAM. I’ve just turned into more of a…MOE, lately. It’s nothing you did. We just…grew apart.”
“Is that why you’ve been writing love scenes using Adam?” Joe glanced around the room and took in the clutter. There were half finished paintings, books, containers of paint, and paint brushes scattered on every available surface.
“It was only the once—” she said, interrupted by a derisive snort.
“No, you only posted one, but I know there’s another one lurking in your computer!” Joe said, pointing at the monitor behind her.
“Who told you?” She said, crossing her arms across her chest and green eyes sparking in annoyance. “And you know you’re not supposed to be looking around in the hard drive! You’re supposed to be visiting the Cade ranch since you fell into a depression because of Laura.”
“Why is it that I have to go off in a fit of depression, and Adam is getting—”
“You’d better not finish that!” The writer warned, looking peeved. “I can easily change Dark Night of the Soul so that a tragic accident happens on your way home and permanent damage is done. You’d never have kids.”
She watched as the blood drained from Joe’s face at the implications of that statement. The writer felt a twinge of regret, but it only lasted a moment.
“All I’m sayin’ is that that he’s not walkin’ right, and I’m not walkin’ right…and it’s for two different reasons,” Joe said, his eyes flashing. “You thought you could fool me, writing under a different name, too!”
Knowing the situation was getting out hand, she stood there for a moment, wishing her attack cat would make an appearance. She could not believe she was in her project room arguing with Joe Cartwright about his lack of a love life.
“My secondary penname is a fine name if you knew anything about science fiction.” She said, pinching her lips shut, feeling a throb of pain taking up residence behind her eyes. “Surely someone has written a love scene about you.”
“If they were, do you think I’d be here?” Joe snapped, slapping his hat against his thigh. “I’ve been beaten, shot, thrown over a cliff—all of which were in the TBC bits you wrote. Plus, there’s the whole Dark Night story you’re working on, remember? Not a love scene in sight.”
Stiffening, she looked at the flushed young man standing across from her. She did have to admit, however grudgingly, he did have a point. “Look, if I write a love scene for you in the next few days, do you think you could go back to wherever it is you came from?”
“What’s this girl look like? She doesn’t have a good personality does she?”
“What kind of girl do you like? I mean besides breathing, what are the qualities you like?” She asked, exasperated. “Because, let’s be honest, you can pick some weird ones. I mean, what was with Tirza and the whole rock of love thing?”
Ignoring the jibe, he just flashed a grin and made an hourglass shape with his hands. “I’ve had my eye on this dark haired gal for a while. Her name is Carmelita Juarez—think you can help me with that?”
“It’s my fic. I can do what I want, set you up with whomever I want…remember that. You could be stuck with someone like that Grandma Hoad.”
She had to smile at the look of utter horror that took up residence in the expressive eyes. “Not that I would but I could. So, you play nice and I will. Deal?”
Joe stood there for a moment as he tried to decide if the young woman was serious in the offer or not.
“I didn’t think he’d ever go away,” Adam said, resting his hands on her hips to pull her closer for a soft kiss.
Author’s Note: As you can see, staying in is starting to get to me.
Tags: Adam Cartwright, Humor, Joe / Little Joe Cartwright
Other Stories by this Author
- Stagecoach (by Arien)
- Short Trip Home (by Arien)
- Wavering (by Arien)
- The World Goes Still (by Arien)
- A Day in Town (by Arien)