They found John Postley beneath his wagon near the bottom of a little ravine they had been following for two days. The man had apparently been filling his water barrels in the stream when the wagon had rolled back over him, pinning him half in and half out of the water. There was no way to know how long he'd been trapped there, and what had caused it Adam couldn't say—maybe the mule had been startled and lost her footing, maybe something else.

In any event, it didn't really matter. The damage was done.

They unloaded the full water barrel, then Candy lifted the back wheel while Adam slowly eased Postley's broken body out from beneath. Candy came to kneel beside them while Adam peeled the man's shirt aside to assess the damage.

"Doc?" Candy whispered, though he could see as well as Adam that there was no point. Adam shook his head. Postley's chest was damaged beyond repair, and pink froth painted his mouth. He didn't have much time left. In truth, Adam was surprised the man was still alive now—he had fully expected to be rescuing a corpse. The shallow, rattling breaths and dull eyes had been a shock.

"John. What happened?"

He knew Postley wouldn't be able to respond, but wasn't sure what else to say. It was a shame, Adam thought, for Postley to survive what he had only to die of a stupid, senseless accident less than two hours from civilization. The area was untamed—not much there but rock and scrub and a few trickles of water—but they weren't that far from either the Ponderosa or Virginia City.

Postley attempted a response. Adam didn't catch it at first, and leaned close. "Water," the man rasped, and Adam looked around.

"Candy, can you—"

"No." The man batted at his sleeve. "Water."

"You were getting water?" Postley nodded sluggishly. "I see."

Candy appeared with a canteen. Adam tried to help Postley drink, but the older man pushed the water away. "All right." Adam set the canteen aside, reluctant to force water when it might do more harm than good. Already Postley's breathing was growing more ragged, and he wondered if moving him might have been the final push.

It couldn't be helped. It wasn't as if they could have left him there …

"John." Adam took the trembling hand in his. "I want to say thank you for all you did to try to help find my family." The rheumy blue eyes flew open, fixing on him. "I know my pa regrets … regretted what happened." Candy frowned across Postley's body, and Adam avoided his friend's eyes. It wasn't so much an admission that Ben Cartwright was dead, he told himself, as an admission that he would need to get used to referring to him—to them all—in the past tense. "You might have been bitter, but you weren't, and he was relieved you forgave him."

Silence fell then, nothing but the sounds of the water and wind and the birds around them. It was a soothing silence, so unlike those at home for the past weeks, and Adam relaxed into it. Those blue eyes never left his face, though, strangely intense for a dying man, and suddenly the calloused hand seized weakly in his own. "Mine."

"Your what, John?" Adam frowned. "What do you need?"

Postley's grey head flopped side to side. "In … mine."

In mine … He frowned toward Candy, who shrugged. A moment later, though, the foreman's head came up. "You want to be buried in your mine? Is that it, Mr. Postley?"

The old man seemed to have lost the ability to move, but his eyes looked past them, up the faint trail upon which they rested to a jagged outcropping above.

"Is that where your mine is, John?" Adam nodded. "We'll bury you there. Don't worry."

That was, it seemed, all John Postley had strength for. He slipped into unconsciousness several minutes later, and within half an hour he died.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

After the fake dynamite incident, Postley didn't return. It might not have been so long, in truth—none of them could say, and they no longer even tried to guess—but in the commotion of their captor's last visit he had not left new food or water. None of them were terribly hungry, so the food didn't really matter, but the water had been gone for some time now. Ben was beginning to suspect that Postley had no intention of returning before they died of dehydration.

In some ways it was probably for the best, but he had wanted better for his sons …

They lay together in one corner now, sluggish and parched as the lack of water began to tell. Hoss, who had been already in a weaker state than Ben or Joe, had been unconscious for … well, for some time. Joe had curled around his brother as Hoss slipped away, sparing a moment to reach blindly for Ben. "The light, Pa. Turn on the light." Tears flooded Ben's eyes as he complied, turning the flame as high as it would go despite his aching eyes, and spilled over as his youngest snuggled into Hoss's back, whispering, "It ain't dark anymore, Hoss. You ain't gonna die in the dark, brother."

Yes. His boys deserved better.

Ben was … surprised, to tell the truth. After all this time, after that last conversation—argument, whatever—with Postley, he had not expected the man to just leave them to die. It didn't seem to Ben what John was after. Another miscalculation on his part, he supposed.

Another mistake.

Ben's life had been full of them—whose wasn't—but some mattered more than others.

He settled beside Hoss and Joe, sprawled against the wall within easy reach. One hand stroked Joe's bushy, overgrown curls, one hand Hoss's fine, thinning locks. The touch was a comfort to him—and, he hoped, to them as well.

He was so tired …

The light flickered and danced, driving away the darkness.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

They buried Postley right outside the mouth of his mine, piling rocks over the grave to discourage scavengers. It had been a straightforward trek from the creek, with Candy driving the wagon that held the old man's body and Adam riding alongside, leading Candy's horse. Candy sat down for a rest and a drink when they had finished, but Adam was too restless to relax. He wandered into the dark cave instead, curious what Postley's mining efforts had amounted to. The mine was in a good location if a man didn't want his claim found by others. As far as whether it was good for silver—he doubted it. At least, Adam hadn't heard of any legitimate strikes in this particular area.

He wondered if Postley had truly been after silver, though, or if he had just been seeking solitude and wide open spaces, after his time in prison. He wouldn't have blamed the man. Adam had toured the Nevada State Prison once (where John Postley had been incarcerated) and couldn't imagine being forced to spend months or years there.

If only the same thought deterred real criminals.

He wandered farther back from the entrance. There didn't seem to be much in the way of support beams or structure, but this mine had been built into a natural cave. The timber wouldn't be needed until the actually digging began. The passage twisted ahead of him, and Adam realized that he would either need to go find a lantern or just give up this little exploration. He was becoming curious what kind of mine such a cave had produced, though, and had just decided to go find a lantern when he noticed a faint—very faint—glow in the darkness ahead of him.

Had Postley left a lantern burning? He was surprised it hadn't run out of fuel by now.

Adam pushed ahead, and upon rounding the corner found himself staring down upon a large square shaft dug straight into the ground. The flickering light came from within. He shook his head, edging forward for a look. It was deep, that was certain, and had probably come mostly intact with the old claim—surely Postley could not have done all of this on his …

The full floor of the shaft came into view, and Adam stumbled, almost pitching forward into the looming hole. He caught himself, stared dumbly with his heart in his throat for the space of three long heartbeats, then shook free from the shock and crashed to his knees beside the shaft.

"Pa! Hoss, Joe! Can you hear me?" Ben stirred, but did not respond. Hoss and Joe lay still. Adam scrambled up and yelled toward the mouth of the cave. "Candy! Candy, bring the canteens! Bring water! Candy!"

His searching eyes landed on a rope ladder tangled beside the shaft. He threw it down, barely waiting for it to straighten before scrambling onto its rungs. As soon as he was close enough, Adam leaped the last few feet to the ground. He was crouching beside his father when rapid footsteps announced Candy's arrival.

"Adam? What—" The sight below struck their foreman momentarily dumb, but he recovered quickly. "Catch! I'll go back for the other one." He tossed his own canteen down and Adam snagged it out of the air, shaking his pa gently as Candy raced back for Adam's.

"Pa? Pa, can you hear me?" Ben stirred, and Adam swiped viciously at the wetness suddenly staining his cheeks. Now was not the time. "Here, Pa. Have a drink." He tilted the canteen against Ben's lips, relieved beyond thought when his father stirred, reaching up to grasp at the canteen. "Easy, Pa, easy," Adam murmured, tilting just a little more water into Ben's mouth and over his lips before removing it gently from his father's grip. "Take it slow. Easy."

Ben's eyes blinked open, and for a moment he stared. Then, "Adam?" Candy returned, and began his own scramble down the latter.

"Yeah, Pa. It's me."

Ben seized the nape of Adam's neck, squeezing tightly. "Adam." Tears tracked his own cheeks, into the overgrown beard that spread across his face and down his neck. "Adam, we didn't ..."

Candy had managed to rouse Joe, and was rationing his water in a similar fashion. Adam reached back and pressed his pa's hand, then gently pulled back. "I need to check on Hoss. How is—"

"Hoss!" Ben breathed hoarsely, lunging past Adam toward his large son. Adam followed, worry churning his gut. "He's not been doing well, he's been unconscious for …" Ben blinked, his eyes shadowed with a confusion Adam had never seen from his steady, rock-solid father. "I don't know. Son …" He gripped at Adam's wrist. "How long has it been?"

"Just over a month." Adam settled beside Hoss and shook him, not really expecting a response. Ben's head snapped up, and he stared.

"Only a month?"

It was the way he felt, too, yet he imagined that things had been so much worse for his family, trapped here in Postley's ... John Postley's mine.

John Postley. And he had thought …

They had all thought.

He had no time for that now—dealing with that news would have to come later.

"Thirty-four days, to be exact."

Ben sagged. Adam couldn't do much for him, busy with Hoss as he was, but Candy turned from Joe and caught his employer, settling the older man gently before he could collapse. Adam's big brother was breathing, and he thanked the good Lord for that, but still unresponsive. He finally managed to coax a little water down Hoss's throat, and repeated the effort until his brother had taken in several mouthfuls. Joe had revived enough to pull himself over to them, and was dividing his stare between his two brothers.

"Where'd you come from, Adam?"

"Long story," he replied, reaching across to grip Joe's shoulder, "and it'll wait until we get you all out of here." He squeezed tight. "It's good to see you."

"Hmm," Joe mumbled, patting vaguely at Adam's hand. "Good to see you, too. Thought we were gonna … be in the dark forever. Thought we'd already been in the dark forever."

"I bet so." Adam checked Hoss's heartbeat and breathing again, and decided he was satisfied for the moment. "No more lanterns for you, though. You'll be out in the sun again in no time. We might need to shade your—"

"No lantern most of the time." Joe fumbled for the canteen again, and Candy rationed him a few more sips of water.

"What?" Adam looked up, startled.

"It was dark most of the time. He only gave us the lantern the last time he …" Joe squinted. "You sure it's only been a month?"

"Dark? You were in the dark this whole time?"

He couldn't keep the initial horror and anger out of his voice. A second later he forced himself past it, pulling on the calm façade that had always served him so well. This was definitely not the time for a temper tantrum—not while his family was still here, sprawled in the bottom of the mine shaft that had been their prison for so many weeks.

No. That would have to wait until everyone was safe and he was away from prying eyes.

Adam caught Candy's eye, and the foreman moved to help Joe rise. Adam checked Hoss again, ensuring that his unconscious brother would be fine for the moment while they helped the other two up the ladder, then moved around behind Ben.

"Come on, Pa." He gripped his father gently, drawing Ben to his feet. "Come on, let's get you out of here."^

Epilogue to follow

^Line taken directly from the episode.