Summary: Maureen puts Adam–and his guardianship–to the test. This story is part of a series that includes Freckles & Rouge, but it will stand alone.
Rating and Reader Alerts: G  / Words:  2,600

Maureen Series

Freckles & Rouge
A Real Father
Stained

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The Brandsters have included this story by this author in our project: Preserving Their Legacy. To preserve the legacy of the author, we have decided to give their work a home in the Bonanza Brand Fanfiction Library.  The author will always be the owner of this work of fanfiction, and should they wish us to remove their story, we will.

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A Real Father

 

Maureen knew that she was in trouble, but right now her head felt too funny to think about it. She wasn’t in pain—that, no doubt, would come tomorrow. She was just having trouble seeing straight and keeping her balance.

Was this what liquor did to you? She’d been expecting more of a light, bubbly feeling.

“Lean on me, sweetheart, while I get you up into the saddle,” Adam said.

His voice was surprisingly gentle under the circumstances. She wasn’t sure how it happened, but a moment later she was sitting on top of Sport. Adam swung up behind her, reins in hand.

Little Joe, who was standing next to them, favored them with a wary look. “Are you sure you don’t want to take the buckboard home?” he inquired.

Maureen shut her eyes, allowing Joe to sound like a disembodied voice.

“No, Pa promised any number of folks a ride home after the picnic,” Adam explained. “Don’t worry; I’ll get her safely back to the Ponderosa.”

“Well, I’ll ride with you, then,” Joe informed him. “Hang on while I get Cochise.”

Maureen opened her eyes and shivered. What had she done with her shawl?

“I’m cold,” she announced.

She heard Adam sigh and then she felt him fiddle with the buttons of his jacket. “Here, lean back,” he told her.

She leaned back against his chest as he buttoned his yellow jacket—or was it tan?—around the both of them. She smiled a little, grateful for the warmth of him.

He must not be completely disgusted with her, she decided. And that was the point of this whole escapade, wasn’t it? She wanted to make sure that Adam could handle her no matter what she did. And she needed to know that he’d never regret his impulsive decision to become her guardian.

“What do you think Nancy’s parents are saying to her about the liquor?” she ventured as she nestled against him. Her voice sounded strange, she noticed. Why were her words slurring like that?

“If I were you, sweetheart, I wouldn’t be worried about Nancy,” Adam said dryly.

Maureen cringed at that and decided to keep quiet for a spell. She closed her eyes again and drifted off to sleep. She had a vague memory of the plodding ride home and of Adam carrying her inside while Joe promised to stable the horses.

She remembered babbling on and on about something while Adam carried her up to her room. She was still babbling as he helped her strip down to her chemise and tucked her into bed. Funny, but she could never remember the topic of her rambling discourse when she looked back.

She remembered the next morning all too well, however. She vomited twice before her head cleared and she got some color back. And then she had to face Adam.

But he had very little to say to her. After checking up on her, he ordered her to stay in her room until he returned home—he would deal with her then.

Maureen sighed as she heard his footfall go down the stairs. She had a terrible feeling that he was wishing he were rid of her.

*

Little Joe walked up to the house. Maureen was sitting cross-legged on the porch with a pile of mending. Not a very lady-like way of sitting, he thought to himself, but at twelve she could get away with it.

Joe smiled as he shook his head. Who’d of thought that Adam would take on the guardianship of a twelve year old girl? But this little girl had plenty of brains and plenty of sass—maybe older brother couldn’t resist that combination.

He stepped up on the porch and took a seat beside the freckled colleen.

“Aren’t you supposed to be confined to your room?” he asked.

She gave him a sour smile. “Yes, but Adam’s not here right now. He went into town to see Charlotte.”

Joe nodded, accepting the fact that she was outside because Adam wasn’t around to send her back in. Lord, she would sure keep his hands full. But that would be good for him.

Of course, Adam had his hands full with Charlotte too. She was still insisting that they keep their marriage secret. She was still afraid of what would happen if the folks of Virginia City knew that Adam had married a black woman.

What a lot of changes for older brother, Joe reflected as he leaned back and stretched his feet out in front of him. Adam had only just married Charlotte when Maureen fell into his hands.

Well, at least the two ladies would keep his life interesting.

“Do you think Adam’s going to strangle me?” Maureen asked.

Her voice sounded a little strangled already. She must be quaking just thinking about Adam’s return.

“No,” Joe assured her. “I just hope you weren’t planning to sit down too much over the next few days.

She ignored that and bit her lip. “But what if—what if he wishes he’d never taken me in?”

Joe stared at his boots. The poor kid was desperate for reassurance. He could tell her that Adam was crazy about her, but it wouldn’t do any good. She needed to hear it from him.

“Why don’t you talk to him about it?” he asked at last.

She took a deep breath—like someone preparing herself for the worst—and then nodded.

“I will,” she promised.

*

Adam sighed. “I have to punish her,” he said. “I can’t let her get away with behavior like that.”

He was sitting on his chair backward with his arms folded across the back of it. Charlotte was standing behind him rubbing his back, but she leaned forward at that and kissed the top of his head.

“You knew me when I was a child—and you never hesitated to punish me,” she reminded him.

He grinned. “It’s different with Maureen.”

“Yes, you’re walking on eggshells with her,” Charlotte said. “Mon Dieu, I know what a difficult life she’s had, but you let her get away with too much. She wants you for a father, Adam. A real father—and that means you must take her in hand sometimes.”

Adam didn’t need to think that over. He knew that Charlotte was right.

Well, it was comforting to hear his own thoughts echoed, he supposed. In fact, the mere sound of Charlotte’s voice was comforting. New Orleans had left her with a Southern drawl and the trace of a French accent—an irresistible combination.

He craned his neck to get a look at her and gave her a teasing smile. “I’m surprised at you. Apparently you’re going to be quite a strict mother.”

She winked at him. “I won’t be. You know I’m no disciplinarian. I’m already practicing my favorite line: ‘Wait till your father gets home!’”

He rolled his eyes at that. “Leaving me to be the villain, I see.”

Charlotte laughed. “Our children will adore you, Adam, no matter how strict you are. And that goes for Maureen as well.”

She paused to wrap her arms around him and kissed his cheek. “You had best get home to her. There’s nothing worse than waiting for a punishment.”

He nodded. There was no point in putting off the inevitable.

He just hoped that Maureen would understand what having a real father meant.

*

Maureen peeked inside the barn. Adam was in there by himself, unsaddling Sport. She took a deep breath and stepped inside.

“’Evening, Adam,” she ventured as she hung up her lantern and leaned back against the wall.

He gave her a wry glance. “Good evening,” he returned. “Didn’t I tell you to stay in your room?”

“Yes, but that was hours ago,” she pointed out. “I was hoping that you weren’t angry anymore.”

He smiled a little at that. “No such luck,” he informed her. “You’ve earned yourself a good talking to, young lady.”

Maureen cringed as she watched him set the saddle aside and begin to brush down Sport. Little Joe had already explained what a ‘talking to’ meant when a Cartwright used the term.

Adam had never spanked her or tanned her before—he’d always been content to lecture her or assign her extra chores. But she’d been acting up for the past few days, pushing him further and further. And at the picnic yesterday she’d finally crossed the line.

“Any chance of me charming my way out of it?” she asked as she widened her eyes and gave him the innocent look that Joe had taught her.

She watched him bite back another smile as he shook his head. “No,” he answered. “But if you give me a reasonable explanation for your behavior I’ll reconsider locking you in your room until you’re seventeen.”

She rolled her eyes at that and walked up to Sport, picking up a brush along the way. Then she took a stand opposite of Adam so that she could help him with the grooming.

They worked quietly for a few minutes. At length Adam broke the silence. “Why don’t you tell me what was going on inside your head?” he invited.

She considered that. “I’m not sure,” she answered. “I think I was putting you to the test.”

“I gathered that much,” he said dryly. “What were you testing me for, Maureen?”

She sighed. “I don’t know, Da.”

“Were you trying to find out how much you can get away with?” he persisted.

She shook her head. “No. I think I was trying to make sure that you’d always tolerate me. I mean, that you won’t get rid of me even if—well, no matter what happens.”

Adam gave her a speculative look. “Even if…” he prompted.

“Um, even if I make you crazy sometimes,” she said, dropping her voice a little. “Or even if you have a real child with Charlotte—someone of your own blood, I mean.”

Adam didn’t answer that immediately. He put down his brush instead and then backed Sport into his stall.

“Good boy,” he said as he stroked the chestnut’s neck. Then he leaned against the stall and turned back to Maureen.

“I don’t just tolerate you, sweetheart,” he said softly.

She gave him a tentative smile. “Are you kind of attached to me, Da?”

He winked at her. “A bit,” he owned. “And even if Charlotte and I have children that won’t change. Now why were you worried about it?”

She shrugged as she stepped over to the stall and began petting Sport. “Some of my Mam’s gentlemen were good to me for a while—but they always left in the end.”

Adam reached over to her. “Come here,” he said as he drew her into his arms. “I doubt any of those, uh, ‘gentlemen,’ paid your Mam $3,000 for the privilege of being your guardian.”

She brightened at that. “That’s true,” she said as she rested her head against his chest. “You can’t get rid of me, can you? You wouldn’t want to waste all that money.”

Adam laughed. “No, I wouldn’t,” he agreed.

She broke apart from him a little and smiled up at him. “If I confess something, Adam, will you promise not to get any angrier than you already are?”

“I’ll do my best,” he promised as he released her.

“I—I lied about Tom Sullivan,” she stammered. “The man my Mam was married to, I mean. I told you that he was the best father a girl could want and I went along with my Mam’s story about him dying and all. But he didn’t die—he just walked out on us when I was five.”

She held her breath, waiting for his response. But to her surprise, there was no shock in his eyes.

“I know,” he said at length. “Maureen, I had reasons to doubt the stories that you and your mother told me about Tom Sullivan.”

She blushed and stared down at her feet. “Oh,” she managed. “I guess you noticed something fishy about them.”

“Yes, I did,” he said gently. “He sounded a bit too good to be true, so I hired someone to investigate him.”

She swallowed. “Well, then you—you must have found out that he’s a wastrel who owes half the world money. Why—why did you let me lie?”

He shrugged. “I thought that you might be attached to his memory—regardless of what kind of father he was.”

Maureen sighed. “He wasn’t any kind of father. He told me before he left that he didn’t think I was his. I suppose any man in the Five Points might have sired me.”

She paused and forced herself to look back up at Adam. “Please don’t tell anyone else. My Mam likes pretending to be a widow. She thinks it makes her more respectable—despite her gentlemen callers.”

“I won’t say anything,” Adam assured her. Then he cocked his head at her. “Maureen, how attached are you to the name ‘Sullivan?’”

“I’m not,” she answered, coloring a little. “Why should I care about his name? He didn’t want me.”

“That’s reasonable enough,” Adam owned. “Would you, ah, care to take my name instead?”

She felt her eyes widen at that. “You’d let me use ‘Cartwright?'” she demanded.

He smiled and chucked her chin. “It’ll make the paperwork for my will easier,” he teased.

“I’d love to use your name!” she told him, nodding eagerly. “Are you really going to leave me something?” she added as an afterthought.

Adam laughed. “Of course. Did you think I wouldn’t provide for you?”

“I didn’t know,” she answered, returning his smile. “Should I consider murdering you for my inheritance?”

He laughed again. “No,” he answered. “My Pa and my brothers are my executors and they’ll follow my instructions. They won’t let you touch the interest until you’re twenty-one and you’ll have to be twenty-five before you lay a finger on the principle.”

Maureen rolled her eyes. “You’re right. That’s too far away—there’s no point in doing away with you. If something happened to you would Charlotte be my guardian?”

He shook his head. “That will be my Pa. Or—if he’s not alive—Hoss and Joe.”

“But Charlotte won’t be as strict as your Pa,” she objected. “I just have to pronounce my French correctly and use the right fork at meals to keep her happy.”

Adam smiled at that. “And dress well—Charlotte considers it a cardinal sin for a woman to wear an unflattering color.”

“There’s no chance of that,” Maureen assured him. “She makes all my clothes now. Can’t you name her?”

“No,” he answered firmly. “There are several reasons for that, but the most important is that she’d let you get away with murder.”

Maureen sighed. “Forget about murder—I was only teasing about that. But would you let me get away with that little scene I caused yesterday?”

“’Fraid not,” he answered, shaking his head again. “You’ve pushed me far enough, Maureen Cartwright.”

She started at that—it might be worth the hiding, just to have heard him call her by his own last name. But she’d still prefer to get out of it.

She gave him a hopeful smile. “What if I told you that I was really, really sorry?”

But Adam was having none of it. He gave her a sympathetic smile as he stepped over to her and put his arm around her shoulders.

“If you’re not now you will be shortly,” he promised.