Ben listened to himself repeat the same words over and over and over. Yes, thank you for coming, I appreciate you being here, Adam was a good man, thank you, yes, thanks for coming we really appreciate you being here. The faces were starting to blur together, the density of people blending into a continuum of words and sympathetic gestures. His son had touched so many lives, for that Ben was very proud. How long had he been standing here? He sensed Hoss behind him and was glad to have him close by, just in case. Thankfully, by the grace of God, he'd managed the strength to continue greeting all these people. Friends and neighbors who had been a part of his son's life. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Joe duck into the kitchen. Mrs. Clemens was calling out to him until she was distracted by another guest. She tended to say the right thing but usually at the wrong time. But Ben realized it probably wouldn't have taken much to set his youngest son off, they were all visibly tired and emotionally strung out. Less than twenty-four hours ago he had found the charred remains of his oldest son. He turned and looked towards the coffin. He still didn't want to believe it could be Adam. Something deep inside him told him that it wasn't; a voice that made him fight the notion that his son was dead.

"Mr. Cartwright?"

Ben looked up. "Abigail Myers." It had been with his son's help that she and Hank Myers, their former hand, had been brought together and married. "Where's Hank?"

"Hank is out of town on business, but I'm sure he would've wanted me to give you his condolences as well." She was holding Ben's hand affectionately. "I'm so sorry. We'll miss him very much." She brushed away a tear with a dainty white glove. "He was a fine young man."

"Yes, yes he was, Miss Abigail. Thank you - for attending, Adam would have really appreciated it," Ben nodded as she slowly released his hand.

Time moved by slowly and it seemed like the line of guests was endless. Virginia and Todd Keith, Todd's father, Swede and Annie Lundberg, Amelia Miller, Martha Fletcher, they were all here - supporting him, his family and a son that had made a difference in their lives.

The night wore on and finally the last of their neighbors left. It had to be late. Ben stretched as he looked over at the Grandfather clock - it looked like it said 10:30.

"Pa, you want to sit down for a bit?" Hoss asked with concern. "You've been on your feet all night."

Ben nodded and sat himself down on the edge of the settee. It had been a bad idea as he could feel the pain already setting in. Ben rubbed his eyes then reached up and patted Hoss's forearm, "It's been a long night, son, why don't you get some sleep."

"Aw, I cain't sleep, Pa," Hoss responded softly.

The door to the house opened and Joe walked in, "The last of the folks are gone, Pa, well, except for Mr. Regan."

Ben looked up in surprise, "Will?"

"Yeah, he, uh, said he wanted to wait." Joe indicated the porch. "He's outside."

Ben stood up slowly, the aches of age settling in a little too quickly. He moved to one of the end tables and slid open the drawer. Ben pulled out his pipe and tobacco, filled it then slipped the leather pouch into his vest pocket. "I'll be back, boys. Why don't you help Hop Sing clean up."

The boys nodded.

Ben stepped out the front door and into the night air. He lit a match on the side wall then puffed on his pipe until he saw the steady orange glow. He blew out the match, tossed it into the dirt then walked to where his old friend and former ranch foreman was sitting on the bench smoking his pipe. Ben moved over to him and dropped down beside him. "Evenin', Will."

"Evenin', Ben," the older gentleman responded. "How you gettin' along?"

"I've had better days," Ben answered taking a puff from his pipe then pulling it from his mouth.

"Ben, I know a bit about what you're going through," Will said somberly. "It wasn't that long ago I lost my Carl and Adam - Adam was good enough to bring him home to me. I owe your son a great deal."

Ben nodded. Will owed them nothing. Adam had decided to never tell Will the truth about the tragic details surrounding the death of Carl. The man had lost his son to a senseless death and that was what brought them together at this very moment. Ben let out a long sigh. "How do you do it, Will? How do you get through a day without him?"

"You just do." Will dropped his head, pulling his pipe from his mouth. "When I lost my wife I thought the good Lord himself had reached down and ripped out my heart. I ain't never felt anything as painful as that, but then when we received the news about Carl…" A sob caught in the older gentleman's throat. "Well, I just wasn't sure I'd be able to go on. He was the last of my family, left me all alone."

Ben reached over and put a comforting hand around Will's shoulder, the tears burning and threatening to spill forth.

"You still got two boys, Ben," Will continued. "Hold them close whenever you can and never forget to tell 'em you love 'em." Will wiped his eyes. "Sometimes I fear I didn't tell Carl enough."

"I'm sure he knew," Ben's voice wavered. "But thanks Will, thanks for," his voice hitched. "Thanks for coming by, it means a lot." He cleared his throat and took another puff from his pipe.

"Ben I wanted you to know that there ain't nobody else can feel for what you're going through better'n me. So, if you need to talk…" Will turned towards the elder Cartwright. "Well, I'll be here for you. And your boys. I mean that."

Ben smiled. "Thanks, Will."

The two men sat and gazed at the stars, no words, just the soft puffing of the two pipes and the gentle sound of the crickets.

When Will finally left, Ben walked into the house where he saw Joe and Hoss sitting beside the fireplace. The house had been cleaned of all the food and most of the furniture had been returned to its original place. Ben gazed at the dark coffin adorned with flowers. The candles were about out, he'd have to get some more pretty soon if they were going to stay lit all night. Looking to the picture of his son again he noticed the small carved horse: he didn't recall seeing that earlier, perhaps someone left it?

Hop Sing came around the corner with a tray of coffee and placed it on the table next to Joe, who was sitting in his father's leather chair. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out some new candles and started to replace the old ones.

"Wait, Hop Sing." Ben took the candles from the cook. "Why don't we all light these."

Joe and Hoss got up from their chairs and made their way next to their father. Hop Sing started to back away. "I meant the whole family." The Chinese cook smiled and moved up next to Little Joe. They each took a candle and lit it from the currently burning ones. In unison they bowed their heads and thought about their hopes and prayers for their brother - son - friend.

"Lord, we come to you humbly on this night - this night of our great sadness…" Ben was crying, but he pushed himself, determined to finish his prayer. "Please, Lord, give us the strength to not dwell on the bad, but to remember the good times, the memories that made my son's life such a gift to the people he touched. Let these candles represent the light he brought into this world. May his memory always burn bright and never be extinguished. Amen."

"Amen," they all chorused.

"That beautiful prayer, Missa Cartwright," Hop Sing spoke up.

"Yeah Pa, real nice," Hoss sniffed.

"Thanks, Pa," Joe said as he wiped away the fresh tears that were running down his face.

Ben looked up, remembering Will's words. He moved forward and pulled both his sons into a huge bear hug, "I love you boys very much. Never forget that."

"We love you too, Pa."

Ben released Joe and Hoss then slowly turned back around to face the coffin. He ran his hand along the smooth cover. "We need to discuss who's going to…"

Hoss and Joe exchanged glances then Hoss stepped forward. "Pa, me and Joe been talkin 'bout that. Since you've been on your feet all night, how 'bout we stay down here, that way you can get some rest."

Ben nodded. "Alright." He spotted the tray with the coffeepot on it. "I think I'll stay for a bit, have something to eat, maybe a cup of coffee, wind down a little."

Hop Sing brightened and poured his boss a cup then went into the kitchen to fix him a plate of food. Ben sat down in his favorite easy chair and sipped the hot liquid. Joe sat down on the coffee table at his father's feet while Hoss moved over towards the fireplace.

The trio sat in silence until Joe let out a short laugh.

Ben wrinkled his brow and pulled the cup from his lips. "What's so funny, son?"

"Oh nothin', I was just thinkin' 'bout that time I beat Adam in that Virginia City horse race - and I got his new rifle! Boy was he mad, you remember that, Hoss?"

Hoss smiled. "Do I remember? Adam wouldn't speak to me for a week when I won all that money!"

The two boys laughed.

"And then there was that time with Senorita Delores," Hoss continued. "He was SO sure he was going to get the girl," Hoss straightened and blew a breath on his fingernails. "But I believe I ended up with the girl that time."

Joe shook his head, but kept smiling.

Ben listened through the night as they all shared stories and anecdotes about Adam. It turned into an evening of happy memories, thoughtful moments and heartwarming camaraderie. Before they knew it the sun was rising and none of them, including Hop Sing, had gotten any rest. But none of them cared; it had been the best tribute they could've given Adam. Ben's prayer had been answered - his son's light would never fade away.