Author's Note: Hope you all enjoyed the story (and this final chapter), thanks for reading (and reviewing), goodnight everybody.

The stunning burst of speed had Joe fumbling with the reins for a moment, struggling to hold Firebrand back. The stallion fought with the bit, furious at being held in. But he didn't buck, he didn't kick, he only pulled hard against the bit and tried to take it in his teeth so he could run with it. It took everything Joe had not to let him.

Despite having shied away a moment before, Candy's horse was game to try and keep up with the powerful Firebrand. The chestnut got up to speed faster than the dark bay stallion, and soon Joe could see him galloping on the left side of them out of the corner of his eye. Though the wind must have been roaring by his ears, the only thing Joe could hear was the thunder of hooves beneath him.

Joe checked the road ahead, which was still clear, as it should have been. The gathered crowd was split into two groups on either side. Candy rode beside him, the chestnut he was on looking pitifully small from atop the mighty Firebrand. The chestnut didn't challenge Firebrand's lead, but stayed right with him as Joe had been hoping. It wouldn't tell them what Firebrand would do in a real race, but the important thing was that he not lash out at the horse or rider going alongside him.

Firebrand dug into the dirt of the road, his strides coming faster and longer with every beat. He seemed to devour the track ahead of him like a hungry flame in a dry forest. If not for the sound of the stallion's hooves striking the earth, Joe might almost believe that he had torn free of gravity's hold and taken flight, he radiated such power and moved with such effortlessness and speed.

Checking over his shoulder, Joe saw the chestnut was losing ground rapidly, though he was struggling heartily to keep up without any urging from his rider, fighting to stay close to the other horse as was his wont. There was no point in holding Firebrand in anymore.

Despite the roar of blood in his ears that prevented him from hearing the whoops and calls of the onlookers, Joe still heard Cochise's defiant neigh, and looked just in time to see the pinto break away from Hoss and lunge onto the road, very nearly in the path of Firebrand. Firebrand didn't even seem to notice Cochise, much less shy from the pinto. If he had, he might have lost his footing or stumbled into the crowd, but he kept his attention on the road ahead and Joe felt a surge as Firebrand began to extend himself, not sparing Cochise so much as a glance as he flashed by.

Cochise turned and came along at a gallop after they passed him. Firebrand had been spooky around Cochise ever since the little pinto had kicked him that second time, and Joe was afraid of what might happen if he saw the horse chasing after him. Looking over his shoulder, Joe saw that Candy was pushing his chestnut to try and catch up with the runaway pinto and get him off the road. Candy knew the danger of spooking Firebrand as well as Joe did. And too, he had to know that Cochise could easily get tangled in his trailing reins and hurt himself. But Cochise neither knew nor cared about either of these things, he just wanted to go for a run and had decided now was as good a time as any. Unless Cochise decided to slow or stop, Candy's chestnut couldn't possibly catch him.

Joe checked over his shoulder again, and saw Cochise was still gaining. The little horse had no rider, and nothing holding him back, and he got up to speed fast.

"Go, Firebrand," Joe whispered, sliding his hand up the horse's neck and urging him faster, "Go."

Firebrand responded with a fresh burst of speed. At last Joe felt his breathing coming in deeper, and there was heat on the stallion's neck. Finally he was beginning to exert himself. Amazingly, Cochise was falling behind. For a short time he kept after them, but then it was clear he realized he couldn't catch Firebrand. Looking back, Joe saw Cochise snort and toss his head, slowing his strides until he was only cantering. That gave Candy time to catch up to him and grab hold of his reins. Cochise came to a stop and reared, and then Joe was paying attention to the road ahead again.

He'd let Firebrand go further than he'd intended, and there was a bend in the road. At Joe's cue, Firebrand obeyed the lay of the road and turned with it. Gradually, being careful not to pull him in too hard, Joe drew up the reins. Firebrand still had a lot of go in him, and didn't seem to want to stop, even though he was breathing hard now and sweat stood out on his neck and shoulders.

It was another half mile before Joe could get him turned around. They cantered back, Firebrand impish and kicking his heels playfully, tossing his head and chewing at his bit. Joe realized at that point that he wasn't afraid of Firebrand anymore, that any fight the horse showed now was merely in play, with no deadly intent.

Back around the bend, Joe found Candy waiting with Cochise. Candy turned the horses around, joined Joe and they cantered back together. He stopped out on the road while Joe rode Firebrand up to where David Beckett had been watching and pulled the horse to a stop.

"Well?" Joe asked breathlessly, his pulse still pounding in his veins.

Mr. Beckett's eyes shone, "He's everything I thought he'd be. When I heard that he'd suddenly changed his attitude, I was afraid he might have lost his racing spirit, but I see he hasn't. I've never seen a horse run like that. Once he got underway, nothing could distract him or hold him back. Like the wind itself, if it had form."

Mr. Beckett continued to babble about the horse using more picturesque phrasing Joe chose not to listen too closely to, and Joe looked over his shoulder to see that Candy was grinning at him. They exchanged sighs of relief, and Joe turned back to Mr. Beckett.

Joe patted the horse's sweaty neck and said, "He's a fine animal, Mr. Beckett, worth every penny you paid for him. It was an honor to ride him."

"Not as much as it is to own him," Mr. Beckett replied, "Joseph, if you wouldn't mind cooling him out? He looks like he could use it."

"I thought I'd leave that to Candy," Joe said, not wanting to admit that he was shaking like a leaf as the fear he'd been ignoring earlier crashed in and mingled with the relief and excitement of the moment.

"Whatever you say, Joe," Mr. Beckett said.

Joe slid down off of Firebrand's back and leaned against the horse for a moment until he was sure his legs could hold him up. Then he turned the horse around and passed the reins to Candy, at the same time taking over custody of Cochise.

"Make sure he cools out alright," Joe instructed, "Then bring him back."

"Sure," Candy said.

While Candy rode off with Firebrand in tow, Joe took a few deep breaths and leaned against Cochise, trying to regain his composure. He saw that his father and Hoss were very much relieved it had all worked out. They had known the danger of the act as much as Joe had, and had known equally that it had to be done, though they hadn't expected Cochise to get loose.

"Y'know, Little Joe," Hoss said, "You really should take better of your horse's bridle," he tossed Joe a scrap of rein that had snapped when Cochise took off, "That one looks so frayed it's almost like somebody took a knife to it to make sure it'd break."

"Now who'd want to go and do a thing like that?" Ben asked, casting a suspicious glance at Joe.

"It was a test he had to pass," Joe replied evenly, avoiding their eyes, "Firebrand's been shying away from Cooch ever since he got kicked. Since Candy wasn't riding Firebrand, I had to set it up so Cochise would get in the race on his own. I knew neither of you would have let me do it-"

"We sure wouldn't," Hoss broke in, but Joe ignored him.

"So I set it up so Cochise would get loose on his own. I had to make sure the reins snapped where I'd cut them so Cochise wouldn't trip himself up, so I handed him off to Hoss," Joe finished.

"That was a big risk you took," Ben said, sounding a bit angry, "Not only with your life, but the lives of two horses, one of which is not yours."

"Yeah well, it had to be done, Pa," Joe said defiantly, "And I couldn't ask anybody to do it for me."

"You really think it was that important?" Hoss inquired skeptically.

"I think it was absolutely essential to proving Firebrand's a reformed horse, that he can be trusted now. And that..." Joe stammered, dropping his gaze, then forging on, "That nobody needs to be afraid of him. Not anymore... never... never again," he looked up at his father, seeking approval, or at least understanding.

Ben didn't want to understand. He wanted to continue being angry with his son for being so reckless, for taking such an enormous risk. But the trouble was that he did understand. What was more, he realized that it was he who'd set Joe onto the idea to begin with. Joe hadn't been trying to prove anything to himself or to David Beckett. What Joe had done, he'd done for the sake of his friend, who could not do it for himself.

Ben wondered if it would be enough.

Firebrand was at last in the hands of his rightful owner. Far as Candy was concerned, it wasn't a moment too soon. That horse had done nothing but cause trouble one way or another from the moment Candy and Joe had first picked him up. It had been one thing after another, and Candy figured he was lucky to still have a job at the end of it all.

He knew he was fortunate that Mr. Cartwright didn't blame him for Joe's being shot or the horse being lost in the first place. If anything had happened to Joe riding Firebrand when it had been Candy who was supposed to be up on the horse, Candy didn't know what he would have done.

Run, probably. That's what he'd always done before when he had a problem.

He wondered if he should do that now. Even though Joe hadn't been hurt, the fact remained that he could have been. Candy had seen the fear in Mr. Cartwright's eyes, and he knew fear could turn to anger fast. Candy had been told to ride that horse, and instead Mr. Cartwright's youngest son had been on him, and nearly been killed while he was at it. Everything had turned out alright, but Mr. Cartwright was a perceptive enough man to know how wrong it could have gone. If he held Candy responsible for that... well Candy knew that might put him out of a job.

Candy had cooled out Firebrand as he'd been told, unsaddled him and replaced the bridle with a halter, then led the horse back to where Joe was waiting. He tried to read the expressions of Mr. Cartwright and his sons, but he saw none of the recrimination he'd been expecting. He'd handed the horse off to Mr. Beckett, and then ridden back with the Cartwrights. Everyone else had gone about their business long before he finished cooling Firebrand off. He'd lagged behind on the ride home, but nobody had paid any attention to him. He did notice Joe was riding Cochise a little oddly. Because of the broken reins, Joe was riding him now without a bridle, having replaced it with a hackamore made from the lariat the horse had been carrying on his saddle.

After the excitement of the morning, the rest of the day went as such days always did. Candy was assigned to go out and mend a fence that had been knocked down in the south pasture. He wasn't sure if he should be reassured by that or not. Though he knew Mr. Cartwright wasn't stingy with his money, he couldn't help but wonder if the man didn't want to give him his last day's pay for less than a day's work.

His fear was such that, in the evening after hours, he was half-packed with a mind to slip out in the night. Payday had been less than a week ago, he hadn't accumulated much in the way of wages since. It would be easier if he just up and left. But then he realized he had to face Mr. Cartwright. The man would respect him no other way, and for reasons he was unable to fathom it was and had always been important to him what Mr. Cartwright thought of him.

Reluctantly, he went to the house and knocked. Mr. Cartwright answered the door, seeming surprised to see him. Mr. Cartwright invited him in, and Candy entered the house and stood fidgeting with his hat in his hands, not able to fully look his boss in the eye.

"Candy, what is it?" Mr. Cartwright asked, looking somewhat concerned by his behavior, "Is something wrong?"

"Mr. Cartwright I..." Candy faltered, then forged on, making himself look Mr. Cartwright in the eye as he spoke, "I came to apologize. I was supposed to be up on that horse. Because I wasn't, Joe could've been killed. I..." he dropped his gaze, "I have no excuse."

"The way I understand it," Mr. Cartwright said, moving to sit on the edge of his desk, "That was Joe's decision. And David did originally request that Joe ride Firebrand for him."

"Yes sir, I know," Candy said, staying where he stood and continuing to study the floor, "But I think he did it because... because I wasn't brave enough to. I thought I could be, but when the time came... I couldn't move. That's... why I was late," he looked briefly at Mr. Cartwright, then back at the floor.

"Candy," Mr. Cartwright said, and something in the way he said the name made Candy look up, "Not all fears are meant to be conquered. Even if you couldn't get on Firebrand's back, you did lead him home. After Joe's ride, you took Firebrand away, cooled him out, groomed and cared for him, just as you were asked to. I don't see how that could have been an easy thing to do. But you did it."

"But I didn't ride him," Candy protested.

"No, you didn't. You couldn't," Mr. Cartwright said, his voice gentle, "No more than I can ever stop being afraid of Joe riding the way he does, fast and reckless. But I don't stop him. And you didn't run away. I know you didn't come out there to race against Joe. When you got there, you meant to ride Firebrand if it killed you."

"But I didn't," Candy reminded him again.

"Because it probably would have killed you, and Joe knew it," Mr. Cartwright replied, "Firebrand needs a steady, experienced rider, one who doesn't know how to be afraid of a horse," he shook his head, looking almost regretful, "Joe's never been afraid of a horse in his life, even when it would have been good and sensible for him to be. There's no horse he wouldn't ride, no stunt he wouldn't be willing to pull from the back of one. But you... you've got a sense of self-preservation, an instinct for survival. In this case, it could have made you hesitate, and at the wrong moment that could have gotten you killed. You knew it, and that's why you didn't want to ride Firebrand. Joe knew it too."

"You're... not angry with me?" Candy inquired doubtfully.

"What have I got to be angry about?" Mr. Cartwright asked, "Ever since you've been here, you have... at every opportunity proven yourself to be worth more than the thirty dollars a month we pay you. You've stood by Joseph in fights, and you went with him to Angelus. You've never disobeyed an order I gave you, even though sometimes you argued against it. You've proven trustworthy at carrying the payroll and you can ride with the best of them."

Candy shuffled his feet, looking at the floor again, embarrassed by the praise.

"Do you think that, after all you've done for this ranch and my family, I could really fire you just for not being able to ride one horse?" Mr. Cartwright asked, "Do you really think I'm that cruel? That stupid?"

Candy looked up, surprised and horrified by the questions, "No, Mr. Cartwright," he answered when he could find his voice, "I've never met a man who was fair like you are. You're always willing to give people a chance, even if they don't seem to deserve one. You've been very good to me."

"And yet you think I'd turn on you at the drop of a hat," Mr. Cartwright said, raising an eyebrow.

Candy swallowed, couldn't find anything to say, and resumed looking at the floor.

"You really don't think you're worth much, do you?"

Candy looked up, and this time found himself unable to break Mr. Cartwright's stern gaze. Unable to find his voice, he just stood awkwardly, staring at Mr. Cartwright, not moving or saying anything. He could hear the unasked question. Mr. Cartwright was dying to ask him what had happened to him, how he had come to be this way. But to his immense relief and gratitude, the man was too polite for that.

"Well," Mr. Cartwright said, when it was clear Candy wouldn't or couldn't respond, "Looking over the work you've done this past month, in addition to all you've done before, I realize now that it's time to give you a raise."

That got Candy's attention. He started at Mr. Cartwright, sure it had to be some kind of joke, or that he'd misheard, or something.

"How does thirty two dollars a month sound?" Mr. Cartwright asked, sounding quite serious.

Candy knew a two dollar raise was a pretty significant one, one he didn't feel as if he'd earned. But he also knew that Mr. Cartwright was not a foolish man, and was careful with his money and how he used it. And he knew the man would never make a joke like this. He was serious. He meant it.

And Candy was wiser than to argue with him.

"If you think that's fair," Candy managed to make his voice audible for that sentence, then was silent again.

"Alright," Mr. Cartwright said, "Now we've got that settled, it's late. I don't know about you, but I'm tired. I think it's time to turn in."

"Yes sir," Candy replied, "That sounds good to me."

He took that as a dismissal and left, unaware that Ben was smiling after him, wondering what it took to make a man like Candy. Sighing, he shook his head and resigned himself to the knowledge that he would probably never know. He would never ask, and like as not Candy would never tell, certainly not if nobody asked him. Ben supposed in the end it didn't matter. What mattered was what sort of man Candy was turning into.

The man Ben had met last year would have packed his belongings and run out in the night. He would never have ridden out to try and summon the courage to get up on Firebrand, much less come here to apologize. He'd have cut and run, not out of cowardice but because of an instinct for survival that had been honed to a fine edge by experience with people he could not trust, and who did not trust him. But something about him had changed. Something about seeing how people lived, taking responsibility, treating each other fairly, being good to each other... it was getting to him. Not for the first time, Ben wondered just how much a man could change.

He supposed if Firebrand could turn from wolf to lamb, anything was possible.

"I heard most of that," Joe said, coming down the stairs, "I wonder what makes a man that way. You know, I think he's more afraid of you than he is of Firebrand."

"I know he is," Ben told him, "That's what drove him to ride out there this morning."

Joe frowned thoughtfully for a moment, then said, "You know, I was afraid of Firebrand."

"I know," Ben replied, "And I think Candy does too."

"Then why say otherwise?" Joe asked.

"Because," Ben answered, "He needed to hear it."

"Even if he knew it wasn't true?" Joe wanted to know.

"Especially so," Ben said, "It told him something he needed to know, something he couldn't believe, even if I said it straight out to him," at Joe's puzzled look, he explained, "It told him that I care about him, how he feels inside, not just about what he can do for me."

"I don't get it," Joe admitted.

"I know," Ben said, "But Candy does. And that's what matters now."

"Think he'll stay on?" Joe asked.

"For now, son," Ben replied, "For now."

It was once again a clear, sunny day. A cool morning breeze was stirring the trees, birds were calling to one another from their shivering branches. The brightness of the sun was kept in check by the shade provided by the trees Joe had known his whole life. On either side of the road, the mighty pine trees stretched towards the blue sky, standing like watching sentinels, guarding the place Joe called home.

Beneath him, Cochise had adopted a rocking gait, seeming to roll down the road instead of trotting. He tucked his nose to his chest and arched his neck, flicking his tail side to side in time with his hoof beats, playing with the bit in his teeth and asking for more rein.

Funny, it seemed like no time at all since his last cattle drive, but here he was again, with his black and white pinto dancing under him, ready to ride for pleasure or work, whichever his master deemed appropriate, and his friend riding beside him, seeming to be enjoying the day as much as Joe was.

As Joe's father had anticipated, Candy had stayed on. Glancing over at Candy, Joe found it easy to imagine that nothing had happened, that neither of them had been shot or nearly lost their lives over a horse that didn't even belong to them. It was easy to pretend that they were just a rancher's son and a cowhand, and that they had a friendship based on nothing deeper than sharing a drink in the local saloon, and the shared experience of having eaten more trail dust than any man should.

But underneath the ordinary, Joe knew that they had something extraordinary. Not just between them as friends, but in even being where they were, in being able to live in this great big country with its wide open spaces, with often nary a fence in sight. Joe knew he was incredibly lucky. For him, the Ponderosa wasn't just home, for him it had simply... always been. He had been born here, and though he had traveled far, he knew there was no other place for him, nowhere he'd rather be.

To ride the roads belonging to his father, which his father had built with his own sweat and blood and would some day leave to his sons, to look around and know that everything in sight belonged to his family, it was a feeling Joe knew that most people never got to experience, and which they could therefore never understand.

Cochise shook his head impatiently, and Joe finally relented.

"Alright, go," Joe said, letting the reins slip through his fingers until his horse could extend his neck fully. He leaned forward and gave Cochise a tap in the sides, and the pinto exploded forward as though shot from a cannon.

Joe heard the startled neigh of Candy's horse, and knew the hand was reining the chestnut in, preventing him from chasing after the explosively accelerating Cochise.

After having ridden Firebrand, Cochise's strides felt short, choppy and notably bound to earth, but Joe could not have been more comfortable anywhere other than on his pinto's back. Through the saddle, Joe felt the shift and pull of the horse's muscles as he ran. Joe felt the horse's pulse pound through the hand he laid on the animal's neck, while the pinto's black mane with its small section of white near the base of his neck whipped back and struck Joe's face and arms as he thundered along. Cochise's nostrils widened and he took deeper breaths, streaking down the road towards the pasture where there would be cattle waiting to be herded, ranch hands looking for the signal to move along, and a chuck wagon to follow. Cochise seemed like he couldn't wait to get there.

At the first touch of the reins, Cochise slid to a stop on a hill, neighing and half-rearing in his usual way. Joe turned him and looked back along the road, and saw that Candy's horse had stepped up to a smooth canter in order to catch up quickly. He came to an easy stop where Joe waited.

"You know, if you keep spending your horse and your energy like that, someone's going to have to carry you home," Candy remarked with a grin, "And I don't get paid enough for that."

"What? You just got a raise, didn't you?" Joe asked, feigning indignation, "That's gratitude for you."

"What gratitude?" Candy shot back, still grinning, "Your father said I earned that raise."

"And just think what you could earn if you carried me home on your back," Joe replied.

"You and that horse," Candy shook his head, amused.

"At least my horse has a name," Joe informed him.

"My horse has a name," Candy insisted.

"Oh really? Then what is it?"

But Candy didn't answer; he'd already started his horse down the other side of the hill.

"Hey, wait for me!" Joe cried, kicking Cochise into a canter.

Obediently, Candy slowed his horse enough for Joe to catch up. Then the two friends rode on together, side by each, as good friends do.

"Have you given the horse strength? Have you clothed his neck with thunder?
Can you frighten him like a locust? His majestic snorting strikes terror.
He paws in the valley, and rejoices in his strength; he gallops into the clash of arms.
He mocks at fear, and is not frightened; nor does he turn back from the sword."

-Job 39:19-22 (NKJV)