EPILOGUE

oooooooooo

Marie would have had his hide.

Ben Cartwright stood by the coral with his oldest son, watching his thirteen hand baby boy mount the powerful fifteen and a half hand pinto that had saved his life and begin to walk it around the corral. Hoss was leading the pair, so there was nothing to fear – and Joseph truly did have a way with horses. After everything that had happened he should have taken joy in watching his young son take on a challenge, but in reality all he wanted to do with Marie's boy was pull him in tight and hold him to his chest and never let him go.

He had almost had to let him go – almost had to let all of them go. The nightmare that was Sebastian Stephens was still with him.

Ben wondered when and if he would ever be able to let that go.

The man had been a selfish brute, that much was evident. He'd made life hell for his family and bullied just about every business owner in Yerba Buena, or San Francisco as it was now known as well as Gold Hill. As his boys recovered, the rancher had become curious. He'd sent out a good many letters, to various lawmen in the bay area, seeking to make contact with anyone who had known Sebastian Stephens and was willing to talk. Eventually, Maria Theresa – Sebastian's housekeeper – had written back. She told him Stephens first wife had not died, but left him and their two children shortly after the twins birth. No one knew why, though the evidence suggested she took off with another man. Sebastian was a businessman and seldom home, and so it had been Maria who had acted as Clare and Ethan's surrogate father and mother. As the children grew Stephens began to pay more attention, especially to Clare who was the spitting image of his missing wife. Maria said the man's interest bordered on unhealthy. Clare, a beautiful, blithe child, began to wither. On her sixteenth birthday her father forbid her to leave the house unless he or a man he had appointed accompany her.

That was the year the headaches began.

Maria was unsure if Clare's condition had been medical or mental or maybe both. The headaches seemed to coincide with her father's time at home. At first, they were inconvenient, but then grew to be incapacitating and that was when Sebastian Stephens – in his desperation – turned to Chinese medicine and engaged Hop Sing.

Thus sealing his and his children's fate.

Little Joe was grinning and waving as he jogged around the corral for the tenth time. Ben lifted a hand and waved back.

"You're awfully quiet," Adam said.

He nodded. "Just thinking."

"About?"

He looked toward the house. "Stephens and his daughter. Hop Sing."

"He's been pretty quiet too."

"Yes. I…feel for him. I know what it is like to have loved and lost." Ben paused, gathering his thoughts. "Son, life is journey from birth to death and, like any journey, there are pitfalls along the way. It's the hazards, the dangers, and how a man handles them that make him what he is. I've tried to teach you boys to face them, to forge forward when you must, to forgive whoever who has done you wrong, and to fight for justice when and where you can. There are men – and women – who choose another path. It's no easier. In fact I think, in the end, it may be the harder one."

"To hide, you mean?"

"To turn a blind eye, and to pretend something didn't happen." Ben glanced again at Hoss and Little Joe. Joe was still on the pinto, but they had come to a halt. Hoss had one hand on his brother's leg and was petting the horse's muzzle with his other. "You can pretend all you want to, but you can never forget. A man that carries a secret is slowly eaten away from the inside out."

Adam leaned on the corral fence. "Well, Hop Sing's is out now."

Yes, it was. In fact, it seemed the whole settlement knew about it. It had been a month since his sons' abduction and they had yet to go into Gold Hill – and he didn't intend to go in until the winter was done. It was late October now and soon the snow would fly, cutting them off. The cold bitter months would do much to make the busybodies and rumor-mongers forget. Struggling to survive had a tendency to do that to a person. Ben prayed that, by the time they went back into the settlement in March or April, his housekeeper – and his affairs – would be old news.

"Do you think Hop Sing will be okay, Pa?"

Ben clapped a hand on his son's shoulder. "You're here – all three of you. There were consequences to for his actions, but the Good Lord saw everything through. It will take time and understanding on all our parts but, yes, I think Hop Sing will be all right."

The look on Adam's face made him turn back to the corral. Hoss had mounted behind Little Joe and the pair were making their way toward the gate. Ben drew in a breath and held it as his father's fears kicked in. Joseph was barely healed from his accident. Paul Martin had been out the day before and, after a good ten minutes of begging on his small son's part, told Little Joe that he could ride again – if he was careful.

"Hoss will take care of him, Pa. You know that."

Hoss recovered quickly and had been on his feet and back to work after three days. His injuries were minor and he'd mostly suffered from lack of food and water and exhaustion. As was always the case, Joseph was the last to heal and the first to start telling everyone that he was 'fine'.

Ben nodded and waved at the trusted ranch hand who was standing by the gate. Hoss turned and gave him a grin and then he and Joseph exited the corral and headed out into the wide open spaces.

"Are you going to let Little Joe ride Cochise?" his son asked.

In spite of the irony of a female horse being named after a male warrior, the name had stuck.

"In time," Ben replied. "For now he can take care of her and ride with his brother." He was secretly hoping that due to the boy's slighter frame and slow growth Little Joe wouldn't be able to ride the mare for some time. "I told him he needed to be at least as many hands high as the horse before he could ride alone."

Adam snorted. "So, say about age twenty-one?"

Ben laughed. "Cadfan will do for now, though he'll soon be too small. We'll have to look for something in the interim."

"Geronimo?" the boy suggested with a grin. "Or maybe Crazy Horse?"

The rancher pursed his lips and shook his head. "Definitely not Crazy Horse!" Reaching out, he placed an arm around his oldest son's shoulders. "Now, come on, young man. We have work to do. Those figures aren't going to settle themselves!"

oooooooooo

From the kitchen window Hop Sing watched as the men he loved went about their daily business. He was once again a part of their lives and yet, still apart from them. This was how it would always be. Mister Adam had been right. There could be no honor without shame. He had hidden his for many years – so many, he thought it gone. He had believed himself safe from prying eyes and knowing lips – safe from pain. This was not so and would never be. Mistah Cartwright had come to the kitchen early that morning, seeking coffee. His employer told him that God often uses our greatest pain as the beginning of our greatest calling. Hop Sing's gaze returned to the men in the yard.

So it was with him.

His greatest loss had become his greatest gain.

Leaving the window, the Asian man crossed through the kitchen and halted by his personal shrine. With respect, he moved the images of Missy Cartwright and his honorable grandparents and reached behind to draw out the golden locket Missy Clare had given him. He whispered a few words as his fingers brushed its intricate surface and then opened the small box in the shrine and placed the locket inside, consigning Clare – along with all of the hopes and dreams he had had of a life together – to the past where they belonged. She was free now.

As he was free.

The kettle whistled. The fire crackled and popped.

Life went on.

Oooooooooo

END