{"id":2927,"date":"2011-11-19T16:34:37","date_gmt":"2011-11-19T21:34:37","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=2927"},"modified":"2026-01-20T15:28:10","modified_gmt":"2026-01-20T20:28:10","slug":"the-art-of-giving","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=2927","title":{"rendered":"The Art of Giving (by faust)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Summary: <\/span>Christmas on the Ponderosa is, more or less, always the same. Yet this year, there’s a certain moment of unpredictability: there’s a visitor staying over the holidays who could jeopardise it all…or make it extra special. And maybe she even knows a better present for Adam than yet another book….<\/p>\n

3,200 words, rated K<\/p>\n

My Story Index and reading order for the Art-Universe<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The Art of Giving<\/strong><\/h3>\n

 <\/p>\n

Part One<\/strong><\/p>\n

Adam woke with a start to thundering footsteps on the stairs. Christmas morning, no question.<\/em> No matter how old his little brother would get, Joe would always be the first one up at Christmas and the first one down in the living room, and Hoss wouldn\u2019t be too far behind. Eager as young children to get their presents.<\/p>\n

Adam always wondered how Christmas presents could be so important. It was nice to get something, not that anyone got him wrong, but in the end it was always the same: arms and armours for Joe, riding stuff for Hoss, tobacco and brandy for Pa, books for him. The only questions were: which calibre was Joe\u2019s new pistol, which colour was Hoss\u2019 riding gear this year, would Pa have a pipe coming with his tobacco, and had his family been able to choose the right titles for him for once.<\/p>\n

There was a slight moment of unpredictability this year, though. After some very lively discussions with his not-overly-enthusiastic family\u2014Joe\u2019s \u201cCan\u2019t we have one<\/em> last quiet Christmas? Please?\u201d combined with a heartbreakingly begging pout still stood vividly in his memory\u2014Adam had finally been allowed to invite Juliet Heatherstone to the Ponderosa for Christmas. She was, after all, the woman he was going to marry, and sooner or later the family would have to get used to having her around. Before long, of that Adam was sure, they would discover that Juliet wasn\u2019t half as demanding as they thought if she felt welcome and comfortable. And Adam was determined to show Juliet that there was no reason not to let her guards down when with his family\u2014that soon would be her<\/em> family, too.<\/p>\n

Of course, Juliet had been reluctant to accept the invitation: staying the night in a house with four men had seemed very inappropriate. However, when Adam had stressed out that her only other Christmas option included not only Mrs. Hawkins\u2019 tooth-breaking biscuits, but also the prospect of days spent in the nerve-wracking company of the widow\u2019s newest guests\u2014some very unappealing businessmen from Syracuse, who spent all their free time in the boarding house\u2019s parlour bragging about how much salt they had sold, were selling and would be selling in the future, and how salt should rather be called White Gold<\/em>\u2014not to mention with a slightly drunk, umpteenth repetition of Mrs. Hawkins\u2019 late husband\u2019s adventures in the vaudevilles of the world, Juliet had readily yielded and agreed to join the Cartwrights for the holidays.<\/p>\n

They had spent a surprisingly apollonian evening, with Juliet thanking Hop Sing for an excellent banquet in a very gracious and complimentary laudation that actually made the cook blush, Hoss and Joe behaving more or less like grown ups for once (well, maybe except for the episode with the wax angel and the frying pan), Pa nearly choking over having a female voice reading him the Christmas Tale after so many years, and Adam spitting his brandy all over the room when Juliet suggested they all could sing some Christmas carols. Later, when Joe and Hoss had commenced the epic checkers battle they fought out at every Christmas and Pa had settled down with his pipe and the edition of Dickens\u2019 Christmas Carol<\/em> Juliet had brought as a \u201cpresent to the host,\u201d Adam and Juliet had snuggled up on the settee in front of the fire place, just enjoying to be together. Juliet had laid her head on his shoulder, and squirmed and hissed \u201cshh\u201d and secretly pinched his arm when he had started to whisper naughty nothings in her ear, but had also smiled and let her eyes sparkle and hadn\u2019t taken her ear out of hearing distance. All in all, a cheerful, pleasurable Christmas Eve.<\/p>\n

Adam yawned and stretched his long limbs. Time to get up<\/em>. Juliet claimed to be an early riser, and Adam would not push his luck and risk her being alone with his younger brothers\u2019 childish Christmas antics. She would surely find some biting commentary for that, and Adam didn\u2019t want the peaceful spirit getting spoiled by her sarcastic words that Hoss and especially Joe wouldn\u2019t recognize as the teasing they were meant to be, and that would leave them grouchy and sulking, and less than eager to spend another day with her ladyship.<\/p>\n

When he came down the stairs, Hoss and Joe were already unwrapping presents, and even Pa was fingering something shiny, and red, and with a golden bow. Juliet was sitting in the red chair next to the fire place, a vision in heavy scarlet silk, a now closed book in her lap, sipping at a cup of tea and watching the men with a contented smile.<\/p>\n

Adam exchanged \u2018Merry Christmases\u2019 with everyone and worked his way through a pile of wrapped books. Oliver Twist<\/em> (Pa), Doctor Faustus<\/em> (Joe; really, he should know better than to ask Juliet for advice), The Song of Hiawatha<\/em> (Hoss, bless him\u2014on second thought, though, he must have asked Juliet, too; but she would never use Hoss to give Adam a wipe, that was a role she apparently had reserved for Joe), and a few more. When he had thanked everybody profoundly, Juliet held out a parcel to him.<\/p>\n

\u201cMerry Christmas, Adam,\u201d she said. \u201cI hope you\u2019ll like this.\u201d<\/p>\n

It was…well, it definitely wasn\u2019t a book. A good start<\/em>. Adam opened the oval box and peered inside. He saw two strange contraptions: thin, long steel blades perpendicularly fixed on wooden planks.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre these… skates<\/em>?\u201d he asked unbelievingly.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut…why…?\u201d Adam gazed at her in wonder. \u201cI never…\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, come on,\u201d Juliet beamed. \u201cThe way you move, you\u2019re a natural born skater!\u201d<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Later that day, out on the frozen lake, Adam still wondered what could have made her think so. His butt ached from the seemingly hundredth fall, his ears rang from Juliet\u2019s laughter, and his nose was so cold that he was sure it would simply fall off within the next few minutes. The only thing that made the experience worth the effort was Juliet. She was standing on the ice on her own skates, gracefully keeping her balance, with her thick black woollen coat, her ridiculously thin black kid gloves, that always let her hands get so cold she had to warm them up inside Adam\u2019s warm jacket (but only when no one was watching), and her long light blue Kashmir wool scarf, wrapped around her head and shoulders and still hanging low down her back and at the front of her coat. Her cheeks were pink, and her eyes bright and sparkling with joy.<\/p>\n

\u201cSlowly, Adam, slowly,\u201d she told him for what must have been the thousandth time. \u201cKeep one foot on the ice, lean onto the blade and push with the other foot.\u201d She laughed again. \u201cRock over and bite!\u201d<\/p>\n

And suddenly, amazingly, he moved. The blade was gliding over the ice, and when he increased speed\u2014 \u201cYes, Adam, that\u2019s it!\u201d\u2014he became steadier, more balanced and confident. It was pure bliss\u2014like drifting\u2014no, like flying! A weightless floating, a suddenly effortless epiphany of speed and balance.<\/p>\n

Juliet encouraged him, coached him, corrected this little detail and that, and finally she joined him, taking his hand in hers and they glided over the frozen surface, together and in undreamed-of harmony. Eventually they stopped, and Juliet shoved her cold hands in Adam\u2019s coat, and he shuddered when he felt her fingers through his shirt\u2014not only because of the cold\u2014and she gazed at him and smiled and said, \u201cI told you, you\u2019re a natural!\u201d<\/p>\n

And then she was all coy and un-Juliet-like and asked, \u201cDo you like your present, Adam?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam felt the soft wool of her scarf in his face, and he inhaled her scent of snow and wool and cinnamon. He closed his eyes and said softly, \u201cThis is the best present I\u2019ve ever had, Mylady.\u201d<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

\n

Part Two<\/strong><\/p>\n

Christmas day had ended with another unexpected gift for Adam: his family had retreated early, much earlier than usual, all proclaiming the festivities had worn them out completely and they really, really needed to fall asleep soon and not get up until the morning. They had bid Adam and Juliet good night and all but fled the great room, leaving the couple space and time to be alone. Surely not something of that Miss Westlake, Juliet\u2019s governess of gone-by days at Barnstoke Hall, would approve; but the strict Miss was far away in England and had lost influence on her reluctant charge long ago anyway.<\/p>\n

And nothing in Juliet\u2019s behaviour showed that she was bothered much about the inappropriateness of the situation. In fact, she nearly looked like an excited puppy\u2014something Adam found both unexpected and endearing\u2014as she settled on the settee looking at him expectantly, slid out of her elegant slippers and pulled her feet up and under the skirt of her elaborate dressing gown. The scarlet silk robe with embroidered silver and white snowflakes at the sleeve hems and lower part of the skirt must have cost Juliet a fortune, but the dark red complimented her so much\u2014now, in the warm light of the fireplace and the oil lamps, even more than earlier that morning. Her face was slightly flushed, if still from the cold at the lake, from the warmth of the fire, or from\u2026anticipation, Adam didn\u2019t know, but he surely hoped for the last.<\/p>\n

Juliet tapped on the seat next to her. \u201cWon\u2019t you\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn a moment. I have to\u2026\u201d Adam turned and rummaged under the lowest branches of the Christmas tree, retrieving a small flat parcel and a burlap bag.<\/p>\n

Bringing his findings, he joined Juliet on the settee. \u201cI haven\u2019t given you your presents yet, Mylady.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut I thought\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThose books were from my family, not from me.\u201d<\/p>\n

She looked at him lifting an incredulous eyebrow. \u201cYou want to tell me you had nothing to do with that pretty collection of Shakespeare\u2019s most famous works? Shakespeare<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n

He couldn\u2019t help but chuckle. \u201cWell, I might have been asked for advice.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you couldn\u2019t resist, naturally.\u201d She shook her head, then raised her eyebrow even higher and pursed her lips. \u201cIt\u2019s a very handsome edition. Real jewels. Mr. Marlowe would be delighted.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam grinned, taking his new copy of Dr. Faustus<\/em> and wagging the book under Juliet\u2019s nose before he put it back on the table. \u201cMe thinks we\u2019re even, my scheming lady. Don\u2019t think I didn\u2019t recognise your signature.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIndeed, we are.\u201d This time Juliet chuckled. She reached out and squeezed Adam\u2019s arm. \u201cMay I have my presents now, Father Christmas?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not sure. Have you been a good girl, all this year?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course! I\u2019ve been perfectly good.\u201d She even managed innocent big round child\u2019s eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cReally?\u201d Adam brought down his voice to a growling bass.<\/p>\n

She lowered her head and then peered up from under her eyelashes. \u201cWhy, yes! Certainly.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d Adam said, barely holding back a smirk. \u201cI do seem to recall that only last week you\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, you were, weren\u2019t you? I don\u2019t think that\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFather Christmas, please.\u201d<\/p>\n

She leaned back and crossed her arms, considering him through narrowed eyes. \u201cWell, Father Christmas<\/em>, if I<\/em> recall correctly, you were there last week, too, being\u2026not good<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n

Now he did<\/em> smirk. \u201cOh, you recall correctly: I was there. But, come to think of it, we weren\u2019t bad. Not at all. In fact,\u201d he leaned over and brushed a butterfly kiss on her cheek, \u201cit was delightfully good. You<\/em> were delightfully good.\u201d<\/p>\n

She turned and nibbled at his earlobe, kissed that tender spot below his ear. \u201cWas I?\u201d she whispered, and then breathed, \u201cNow give me my presents already.\u201d<\/p>\n

Silently laughing, he gave her the burlap bag first. She untied the ribbon at the top and reached in, stopped when she touched the contents looking at him in surprise, and then carefully pulled out some dry stems with soilless roots.<\/p>\n

\u201cRoses?\u201d she queried.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I thought you\u2019ll surely want to plant some around the ranch house when you\u2019ll be living here.\u201d<\/p>\n

She nodded silently, then studied the bare-rooted plants, tracing the short stems with her fingers in a tenderly fashion. Eventually she took the attached paper label and read the clumsy script.<\/p>\n

She closed her eyes heaving a deep breath, and when she opened them again, they seemed to glisten. Her voice was hoarse when she said, \u201cQueen de Bourbon<\/em>, Adam? Where\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey are from Barnstoke. I asked Poole to send them. He says to give you his regards.\u201d<\/p>\n

She breathed heavily. Once, twice, three times. And then she gave up and let the tears spill.<\/p>\n

Adam pulled her into his arms. \u201cHey, shh. I didn\u2019t want to make you sad. I\u2019m sorry. I didn\u2019t\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d It was choked and muffled, and he felt her warm breath through his shirt. \u201cI\u2019m not sad. I\u2019m\u2026\u201d She pressed her face into his chest, drying up her tears on his shirt, then wriggled out of his embrace. \u201cI\u2019m not sad. You didn\u2019t make me sad. You made me\u2014\u201d She stopped to brush away new tears escaping her eyes. \u201cLook at me: I\u2019m maudlin.\u201d She laughed under the tears. \u201cYou\u2019ve made me maudlin, Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n

He dried up her tears with his handkerchief and wiped the last drops away with his thumb; and she kissed him. Seizing his face with both hands, pressing her lips on his with vigour, she kissed him.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd happy. Content,\u201d she said, snuggling up against him. She laid her head on his shoulder, arranging herself in that already so familiar way, and whispered, \u201cThank you.\u201d<\/p>\n

He folded his arms around her, held her tight until her breath evened out and he felt her body relaxing fully. Only then he took up the other present and slid it between them.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s something else, Mylady.\u201d<\/p>\n

She took the parcel, looking at him timidly.<\/p>\n

He nudged her nose. \u201cCome on, open it. It\u2019s safe.\u201d<\/p>\n

And it was safe. It was a book, but it wasn\u2019t a book. It was a journal, much like the old, nearly full black notebook Juliet used to collect what she wrote other than her newspaper articles: poems, short stories, ideas, fragments of that novel she planned to complete one day. It was bound in dark green silk, fashionably decorated with Chinese embroidery in bold but pleasant colours, showing a serpent.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s beautiful, Adam.\u201d Juliet ran her hands over the smooth material, tracing the meandering body of the snake.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt seemed to be made for you,\u201d Adam replied. \u201cHop Sing told me you were born under the Chinese zodiac of the serpent.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA serpent? Like\u2026sin<\/em>? Good gracious.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. Like wisdom<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAh. That\u2019s better.\u201d She smiled sweetly. \u201cAnd what\u2019s your zodiac? A mule?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam grinned and pulled on a stray strand of golden hair. \u201cNope. I\u2019m a tiger.\u201d<\/p>\n

She snorted. \u201cYou\u2019re making that up.\u201d<\/p>\n

He shook his head. \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

She looked down at the journal, traced the serpent\u2019s tail one more time, then glanced at Adam\u2019s waiting face and spoke low and with a small smile, \u201cIt does suit you, though. Very much so, actually. A tiger\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n

She opened the journal and found his inscription on the first page. He had taken great care to make his script neat and decorative, had adorned the first letter of each stanza with garlands and flowers.<\/p>\n

Come live with me and be my love,
\nAnd we will all the pleasures prove
\nThat valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
\nWoods or steepy mountain yields.<\/em><\/p>\n

And we will sit upon the rocks,<\/em>
\n Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks,<\/em>
\n By shallow rivers to whose falls<\/em>
\n Melodious birds sing madrigals.<\/em><\/p>\n

And I will make thee beds of roses<\/em>
\n And a thousand fragrant posies,<\/em>
\n A cap of flowers, and a kirtle<\/em>
\n Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;<\/em><\/p>\n

A gown made of the finest wool<\/em>
\n Which from our pretty lambs we pull;<\/em>
\n Fair lined slippers for the cold,<\/em>
\n With buckles of the purest gold;<\/em><\/p>\n

A belt of straw and ivy buds,<\/em>
\n With coral clasps and amber studs:<\/em>
\n And if these pleasures may thee move,<\/em>
\n Come live with me and be my love.<\/em><\/p>\n

The shepherds’ swains shall dance and sing<\/em>
\n For thy delight each May morning:<\/em>
\n If these delights thy mind may move,<\/em>
\n Then live with me and be my love.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cMarlowe.\u201d It was only one word, only a name, and some people might have thought Juliet was stating the obvious, but Adam heard the contentment, the wonder, and the gratitude that showed him she\u2019d understood the message. Well, all<\/em> the messages.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not a shepherd, Mylady, but I do want to make thee a bed of roses,\u201d he said anyway\u2014just to make it even more distinct.<\/p>\n

She closed the book, laid it delicately on the table. \u201cAdam,\u201d she smiled turning back to him. \u201cYou\u2019ve made me a bed of roses already.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHave I?\u201d He pulled her back to his chest and moved around so that they came to lie together on the settee, Juliet slightly atop of him, secured from slipping down by his arms enfolding her.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have. And more than once,\u201d she sighed into his chest.<\/p>\n

It was uncomfortable, the settee clearly too narrow for two; it was awkward and they didn\u2019t know where to rest their legs and arms; they couldn\u2019t see each other\u2019s face without some artistic wrenching, they got constantly entangled in the sumptuous skirt of Juliet\u2019s dressing gown, but it was warm, and it was soft, and they were as close as they could be and completely at home<\/em>, and it was wonderful.<\/p>\n

They just lay there, listening to the crackling of the fire and to each other\u2019s heartbeat; and before the warmth and the quiet lulled him into sleep, Adam kissed Juliet\u2019s forehead and whispered, \u201cMerry Christmas, Mylady,\u201d and Juliet seemed to melt even more into him murmuring sleepily, \u201cMerry Christmas, Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

*** fin ***<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n
\n

Look out, there’s a video for this story in the forums. It was made by the amazing LuvAdam, and that means it’s bloody brilliant! Thank you very much, Elise!<\/p>\n

And many, many thanks for the beta to Sandspur and Sklamb! Have I told you lately how wonderful you are, ladies?<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.<\/em><\/p>\n

Next Story in The Art-Universe Series:<\/strong><\/p>\n

The Art of Mopping, Making Tea and Keeping Your Sanity<\/a><\/p>\n

My Story Index<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Christmas on the Ponderosa is, more or less, always the same. Yet this year, there’s a certain moment of unpredictability: there’s a visitor staying over the holidays who could jeopardise it all…or make it extra special. And maybe she even knows a better present for Adam than yet another book…. <\/p>\n

3,200 words, rated K<\/p>\n

The Art-Universe series, links to all the stories within the series included.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":20,"featured_media":12478,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"template-full-width-post.php","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_members_access_role":[],"_members_access_error":""},"categories":[1005,7,23,3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2927","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-adam-cartwright","category-a-u","category-drama","category-romance","wpcat-1005-id","wpcat-7-id","wpcat-23-id","wpcat-3-id"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/01\/Bonanza-SC-Angel.jpg?fit=385%2C289&ssl=1","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2927","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/20"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2927"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2927\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/12478"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2927"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2927"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2927"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}