EPILOGUE:

Months Later

The sun rose, climbing higher and higher into the sky, casting bright, brilliant light on the surrounding land.

The trip had been a short one—for Ben, at least. It had taken Adam longer to arrive at their agreed upon location. The road he had traveled was different from that which his father had taken. It had once been new, a freshly established off-chute of the main path spanning the distance between the Ponderosa ranch house and Virginia City that would lead its travelers to the beginnings of a house Adam had once been building for Laura Dayton. Now the road was considered old, any remnants of that time period gone.

If Adam was curious as to why his father had brought him here—on the morning of the elder man's birthday, no less—he kept his questions to himself. Ben had been adamant; he did not want a party—not this year—just an early morning ride with his first-born son, and a quiet dinner celebration with the family that had grown so much over the last year.

What a difference that year had made, Ben mused looking between his son and the place where he had taken him. Twelve months ago, he could not have predicted—would not have believed anyone if they told him—his life would change this much and become this full.

Eddie survived birthing her last-born child; although, it was a prolonged and painstaking endeavor. It did not come without lingering and long-lasting complications. According to Doc Martin, the difficult birth had rendered her incapable of conceiving more children. Though they never spoke of such things outright, Ben was certain he was not the only member of the family who was comforted by such a development. Adam certainly seemed relieved by the news, especially since, after the birth of their youngest child, his heart had seemed to soften toward his wife. Babies always had a way of doing that; the innocence and purity of their new life somehow nullifying past hurt and ebbing conflict, leaving those around them enraptured by the endless possibilities the future would hold for this new being. If this immersive enchantment was overwhelming when only one infant was born, then it was downright intoxicating when a family was gifted two.

Eddie and Adam's daughter came into the world pink and wailing; her impending entrance, albeit dramatic, had been expected. Her twin brother's, however, had not been. His existence had been a genuine surprise. He was a gift, really, Ben had secretly thought. The powers that had seen fit to take one of Eddie and Adam's children had given them two in return. A new son would never replace Charlie, but his existence alongside those of his remaining siblings would do wonders to soothe his parents' grief. The beginning of his life would help ease the pain of another that had ended too soon; it would aid in leading Eddie and Adam back to each other. Things were far from perfect between them, but they were trying, and, after all that had happened, in Ben's opinion, that effort accounted for everything.

Ben dismounted his horse and looked up at his son. "You once asked what I did on your birthdays when you were gone," he said.

If Adam was taken aback by reference to his old inquiry, he gave no indication. Dismounting Sport, he was decidedly preoccupied as he cast a guarded gaze upon a property that had once held so much promise and an inordinate amount of pain.

"I came here," Ben said, nodding at the area where the decrepit beginnings of a house had once stood.

The weather-ravaged beams had long been dismantled and demolished, any evidence of their existence had been eradicated in one lonely, solo campfire after another. Adam had once set out to build the structure on his own, and, alone, it was his father who was destined to tear it down, clearing all remnants of a place that had become a testament to the pain of the past in hopes that one day it would make room for a brighter future—whatever that could or would be. The land was too beautiful to be allowed to sit unattended, blemished by the things that had or had not happened and all the reasons why.

"You cleaned it up," Adam said. His voice was even, but his eyes were wide and full of surprise.

"I did."

"Why?"

"Because I couldn't stand the idea of leaving things the way they were, so derelict and utterly destroyed."

There was a metaphor between the horrendous beginnings of a house that had once stood on this land and the once fractured state of their relationship; he knew Adam could easily discern it if he wanted to. Noting the slight shift in his son's expression, Ben knew that he had.

"I had to fix it," he added, knowing the information was far from required to have his actions understood. "When you were gone, this was the only thing I had that made me feel like I was making steps to do that."

He looked between the land and his son, knowing that neither of them had remained the same as they once had been. The years had changed them, made them both better somehow, making them more suited for each other than they were before. The land was no longer proof of a situation gone awry, and, with a family to take care of, Adam had grown weary of wandering.

"Of course, now that it's cleaned up and cleared out," Ben said, "there's little use in leaving it unused."

"It is a prime area. The land beyond the rocks and the trees is suited for grazing, and the rest of it is suited for about ten other things. Seems to me, you should be allowing stock to roam it, instead of keeping it segmented off the way that you have."

Ben shook his head. "Wouldn't be right for me to take it over."

"Why not?"

"Because it doesn't belong to me."

Staring at his father, Adam's astonishment returned. "What?" he asked guardedly.

"You and I were never really presented with a good opportunity to talk about what was going to happen to this place after things between you and Laura ended. I suppose you and I both assumed that a conversation wasn't needed; it wasn't until you left that I realized that you and I were probably assuming different things. We should have talked about it." Ben nodded firmly. "You and I should not ever assume anything, at least not about such important matters. I think you assumed that since you were remaining unmarried that I would choose to take the land back, and I assumed you understood I had no intention of doing that."

"You didn't?"

"Of course, I didn't. It's yours, Adam. It was yours back then and it's yours now, to do with what you wish."

"You say that like you already have an idea in mind."

"I may have one or two. You can keep it, or you can sell it if you would like."

Adam's brow furrowed. "Why would I do that?"

"I don't know," Ben said, though he could think of countless reasons. Adam's current profession and the life he had begun building in town could conflict or abide with land ownership. "I suppose, I'm assuming you would want to sell it when you post the Running D for auction. A spread of land like this certainly would inflate the price of a nonoperative ranch like that."

Grounding the soles of his boots into the ground, Adam frowned. "Who said anything about auctioning the Running D?"

"Peggy."

They looked at each other momentarily; in their respective silence an unspoken vow lingered, a promise not to venture too far into the topic at hand.

Peggy's sudden shift in attitude toward ownership of the Running D had been swift enough to invoke whiplash. For as much time as she had once spent begging to be allowed to have the land, she now spent twice as much advocating against setting foot upon it ever again. Her discovery of Will and Adam's involvement in hiding him there, had cured her of what the adults around her had once prayed was nothing more than an adolescent fantasy. Ben knew Adam hoped—as he did—her new opinion was one that would change given enough time. A daughter should not have to pay for her father's mistakes, permanently giving up the one thing she had once seemed to value over all else because it was currently perceived as ruined.

"I'm not putting the Running D up for auction," Adam said, his voice carrying a note of exasperation. "I know that's what Peggy says she wants, but she's fifteen. She's got room to grow into herself yet, time to figure out exactly what she wants and who she's going to be. She's not always going to feel the way she does now."

Ben wondered how much of Adam's pronouncement had been forged from hope. With as much as things between Eddie and Adam were improving, things between Peggy and Adam seemed destined to become that much worse—at least for the time being. There was still so much pain for her to work through, so many things she had come to terms with before the tension between them could change. As Adam had said, she had time to figure it all out, and, Ben knew, she had an extended family to love and look after her interests while she did.

"I suppose, I just assumed," Ben repeated.

"And I thought you said we shouldn't do that," Adam teased.

"It's a hard thing not to, considering I still remember why you picked this particular span of land in the first place."

"Yeah," Adam said somberly. He looked at the area where he had once intended his house to stand, in between the towering boulders which would protect it from the harshest of weather. "That was the other surprise I had up my sleeve; the one I never got to share with anyone other than you." He cringed slightly, seemingly over the sting of the memory, still somehow so fresh even after all this time. He took a deep breath, exhaled it, and opened his mouth again, determined to say what they both already knew. "The surprise was meant more for Peggy than it was Laura. I picked this span of the Ponderosa because it shares the Running D's property line. I picked it because I wasn't planning on asking Laura to sell her property. I was going to keep and take care of it, so that it would be there for Peggy should she want it when she grew old enough to have it. But that's not what happened. I left and took Peggy with me, and the Running D was abandoned. There wasn't anyone left to care about it the way she did, or the way I could have, had things been different than they were."

"There wasn't," Ben agreed. "But that doesn't mean there isn't now."

"What are you talking about? I'm a sheriff, not a rancher, and Peggy doesn't even want that land back, not anymore."

"Not right now," Ben corrected. "You yourself already said, she doesn't want it right now. The way she feels is going to pass; you and I both know that. She's been through a lot, but time is going to soothe her the way that it soothed you. There will come a day when she wants what is owed to her; she'll want to have the only thing her birth father left behind. You knew that back then, and you know it now. Things will change between you and her, Adam; the two of you will find peace with each other again. In the meantime, think of this land, your land, as the foundation of that harmonious future. The frame of the house you could build will provide the framework for the place you daughter—daughters," he qualified, "and sons will call their home. Take this land, carefully draft some new plans for the future, build a house that will be long lasting, fill it with your wife and children, and happiness and love."

"You make it sound easy," Adam said. "And damn alluring. I can't do it. I have a commitment to my appointment in town; I don't have the energy to properly look after land. I don't have the time to build a house."

"Yes, you do. A man finds time to do the things he truly wants to. If you decide this is what you want, then the time allowing for such a thing will present itself. The fates aren't always unkind, sometimes they're downright helpful when we desire the right things."

"Yeah," Adam chortled. "I think you're forgetting one very important detail."

"What's that?"

"I already have a house. It's rather nice and plenty big."

"And it's in Virginia City," Ben provided. "It isn't out here, where your children will have room to grow and roam. Adam, why on earth would you choose living in a place like that," he extended his arms, indicating at the vastness surrounding them, "when you can live in a place like this?"

Smiling good-naturedly, Adam appraised the land once more. "Why do I feel like this is just some ploy to bring my children closer to you now that Eddie and I have moved our family into town?"

"It might be that," Ben admitted. He could not deny he missed having his son's family close. He missed the noise and excitement that accompanied having new babies in the house. He even missed Lil, who had moved with her daughter and son-in-law to help care for her grandchildren. Given the choice, he would have kept them all beneath his roof forever. But he could not do that, because Adam and Eddie needed their privacy and space, and more than that, they wanted it. They were too old to find peace living in the homes built by their parents; they needed to build something of their own. "But it's also something else."

"What's that?" Adam asked.

"An opportunity. Take this land, Adam, and with it assume stewardship of the Running D. You don't have to become a rancher again if you don't want to. You can hire a foreman and men work the Running D while you remain sheriff, or you can walk away from that job and find another. You can do anything you want to; you can have any future you want. You just have to want it. So, tell me, do you?"

Adam did not rush to answer. He surveyed the landscape, then his father, and then the landscape again. He appeared thoughtful, unhurried to speak. Ben knew his offer was not an easy one for his son to accept. It should have been, but it was not. If Adam rejected it, things would remain as they were—was not objectively terrible. If he accepted the offer, however, everything would change. For better, or for worse, it would. Ben reasoned—he hoped—it would be for the former. Still, there was no way to truly be sure. No way to know what the future would bring.

"Okay," Adam whispered finally.

Ben could not believe his ears. "Okay?"

"Okay," Adam repeated, the word a little louder this time.

"Okay!"

Ben could not repress his excitement. Extending his hand, he clenched his son's neck and squeezed fondly. Lips curling into a wide smile, Adam wrapped his arm around his father's back as they considered the land surrounding them, each thinking about what it currently was and what it eventually would be.

"I just have one request," Ben said eventually.

"What's that?"

"When you finally finalize the plans for your new home, don't build it alone this time."

"Ah, Pa," Adam said, "I wouldn't dream of it."

END

A great big thank you to everyone for your kind words and comments! I think some of you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

I can't believe it's over now. My muse would have liked to delve deeper into what happens next for Eddie and Adam, what the future holds for them and their children. But then I thought, that's a whole new story.

Isn't it? ;)