Summary: Hoss and Joe have adult children; Joe’s wife isn’t there anymore;
had been gone for many years now; the contact has been lost in unfavourable circumstances. Ben and Barbara, Hoss’ wife, stay at home during the
roundup, and come across some old news...

Disclaimer: I have ‘borrowed’ the characters of Bronc, Jacob, Hoss’ son Josh and Joe’s children Sarah and Benji from the film "Bonanza: The
Return" (or something alike); I reserve the right, however, to the other characters (except for the four Cartwrights, obviously) and the specific story
components.

The lines quoted come from "Macbeth", "Hamlet" (paraphrased) and Anne Bradstreet’s "Prologue", the French sentence (with professional
translation) from Agatha Christy.

Note: Any fan of Adam, prepare handkerchiefs, you might need them.

 

 

"Hey, chic, need some help?", asked the cowboy jovially, looking at the handsomely shaped, black-clad young woman rounding up a stray.

The cow came back obediently, and the cowboy smiled broadly, riding up to the woman. "Nice moving, chic. How‘d ya like..."

He had only enough time to roll away a foot or two before the black horse’s hooves came crushing down. The woman made the horse rear again warningly, and her
strong, commanding voice asked cynically, "To trample, or not to trample? That is the question."

The man cursed aloud, getting up with difficulty. She had brought him to the ground more than harshly. "That’s life you play with, chic," he snapped angrily.

"Life’s but a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing," came the answer, and she turned to the herd gracefully.

"Poetising, huh?", he puffed from behind her. She turned dangerously slowly.

"Men can do best, and women know it well

Preeminence in all and each is yours;

Yet grant some small acknowledgement of ours."

Whether he grasped the words or not, the man understood the threatening vibration deep in the sweet voice well enough. She turned again to the herd.

Benji Cartwright rode later up to the cowboy. "Are you fine?"

"Yeah," the man grumbled and grimaced. "What a beast."

"That’s how they call her, don’t they?", Benji couldn’t help smiling, gazing after the woman. Once beside her, he carefully tried a compliment, "You told him off
nicely."

Her hat as usually obscured her face, but Benji could have sworn she thundered him down with her look. She granted his caution with an answer, however, "Ain’
gonna believe them were words that sent him away."

"Ce n’est pas mon fait," he began. ["This is none of my business."]

"Right," she immediately smiled at him at that, but it looked rather like a wild cat showing its teeth for the opponent to back off. The strong Southern accent and her
manner of speaking gave her an air of cynical nonchalance. Benji smiled apologetically and backed off.

"She ain’ sweet on them guys, and kinda selective in whom she’s talking to," consoled him the young man who was just coming up to them. He smiled far more
pleasantly than she did, his feline emerald eyes squinting in a smile of their own. That was a more domesticated cat, judged Benji, but a cat all right. Everything in the
man was feline, from face features to the graceful movements. In contrast to hers, his hair was blond, slightly fairer than Benji’s, and his face free of any shadow.
Was he cute yet or handsome already?, mused Benji. At first, he had wondered how one can call the man Beauty, and the woman Beast. At first.

"I can see," he admitted. "But some are sweet on her nevertheless."

The other man giggled charmingly. "Cain’ advise to try, she’s got a hell of a punch," he informed his interlocutor. "Well, gotta get to work, we cain’ lose cattle so
near our goal."

"Right," Benji smiled at him and rode back to see to the back of the herd, wondering how much of a punch she really had.

***

"Chase at her again," commented Benji, noticing Beast from far, when they had all stopped to rest.

"A cowgirl is rare, you know, and the men try to get a smile, a wink, I guess...", Josh shrugged his shoulders.

"Yeah," snorted Benji, slightly more aware of what the men may try to get. Jacob smiled at that, listening to Benji saying, "I wonder how it goes now."

Chase Gardner looked at the nicely shaped cowgirl with an appreciative eye. They couldn’t get more than a glimpse of her cheeks, but the figure was enough to
attract their attention. Billy failed in trying to get to her... but maybe she’d be nice to somebody else, Billy wasn’t handsome, really.

Chase adjusted his belt; he knew he was a handsome man, with thick, dark hair, merry blue eyes and strong, white teeth. Many a girl sighed to him, many a girl
threw her arms around his broad shoulders and tough neck. Ah, yes, they loved him. This one just deserved the chance to tell him truly she did, too. Grinning broadly
– girls liked that – he approached her and began his flirting.

"Hey, chic, you look mighty well today. I say, you’re as sweet as a pie – "

A second or two after the loud thud, he shook his head to clear it.

"Oomph," he suddenly curled up when the boot’s heel dug in his stomach.

"Ah ain’ a chic," she informed him coldly and turned away.

Chase only now could recall what had happened, as though in slow motion, eventually comprehending. The black-clad back turned from him, and the next thing he
saw was her fist; and the next thing he felt, too. Carefully, he palpated his jaw; it was whole, miraculously. Two sets of arms lifted him from the ground.

"That’s the first chic that sent me to the ground," he wondered aloud. "My, if she wasn’t a gal, I’d show her a fight."

"If she let you," snorted Billy. "She could trample you with her horse before you say a word. She’s some crazy gal."

Young J.J. kept silent. He had an eye for the dark Beast, too. He wasn’t eighteen yet, probably, although he wouldn’t admit that; rather good-looking, he preferred
to stay in the quiet background of events. So it should be in this case as well, he thought.

***

"I’m rather embarrassed, Mr Cartwright," the postmaster smiled apologetically. "But it’s not my fault. See, the date here – it was sent some five years ago. It had to
get lost somewhere on the way here, and was delivered only yesterday."

Ben turned the letter in his hands. From Ireland. Who could write to him from Ireland? It wasn’t Adam’s hand, he had noticed already previously in a half-automatic
reaction. Was it of any use to open the letter now, after five years? But it might have been something important, if somebody wrote from so far; and if not, he’d be
easier to know nothing had really happened, although the letter came so late.

"Who could write from Ireland?", asked Barbara, his daughter-in-law, when he showed her the letter before leaving the city.

"I have no idea," admitted Ben. "But I have an idea as to what we might do. Let’s go and meet Joe and Hoss on their way home, and then read the letter. They will
probably be interested, too, and if something needs to be done about whatever is in the letter, we won’t have to wait for them to make the necessary decisions or
take some action together. What do you think?"

"I think you miss them," laughed Barbara. "Let’s go. I miss them, too."

***

The bull charged blindly forward.

"Mr Cartwright!", the cowboys were too far to help Joe, who had gone down with the spooked horse. He wouldn’t get out of the way soon enough, with his leg
trapped by the scared animal.

The bull charged.

"BOO! Go away! Heeyah! Heeyah!", yelled a young voice from beside Joe, and suddenly J.J. charged at the bull from the side, yelling with all the power his lungs
could manage to produce. The animal spooked and halted, looking around slowly for the source of the noise.

A womanly shadow appeared beside J.J. a moment later, together with a blond manly one.

"Daring, kiddo," she panted with appreciation; they had been hurrying to get the bull away as well.

J.J. blushed at the compliment; he suddenly understood he got more than anybody else from her. He also understood that he really was a ‘kiddo’ in comparison to
her, she was definitely elder than him; he didn’t stand a chance as a lady-killer, and appreciation in her mouth meant more than his yet waking hunter’s pride.

"Thank you, Ma’am," he answered only, with a shy smile, and – amazingly! – he got his hair tousled briefly. After helping the battered Joe, he asked his employer
worriedly, "Are you fine, Mr Cartwright?"

"Yes, I’m fine," Joe shook his head to clear it. "I certainly owe you, boy."

He shook his head again. His daughter and son got to him at last, wearing very alarmed and concerned expressions.

"Are you really fine? I can see you’re dizzy," worried Sarah. Joe waved at Hoss, who was approaching quickly, to calm him down. "I’m fine. I just saw Beast being
kind to J.J.," he whispered, winking. "That was some surprise; no wonder I feel dizzy."

"You’d better rest a moment," advised Hoss.

"Hey, it DID happen," smiled Joe. "Don’t worry, I’m really fine," he grew serious. "Although I will be happy when we get rid of all the cattle and go home."

"Uhm, Mr Cartwright," the blond head of Beauty appeared by his side. "As to your going home, may we come with ya? I mean my sister and I. We’d kinda like to
work for ya yet."

"Well... yes, you can come," agreed Joe. "We are rather short of hands at the ranch. But don’t allow her to discourage the men with her horse, right?", he winked.

"Yes, sir, Mr Cartwright," Beauty smiled. "I’ll... er... ask her to think it over."

***

"Pa!"

Joe looked surprised at the approaching figures, then hurried towards them.

"Anything wrong at the ranch?"

"No, son," Ben smiled to calm his son down. "We just missed all of you and took the first opportunity to meet you. Is that bad?"

"No, not at all," Joe grinned. "Come on. By the way, what’s the opportunity?"

"You’d never believe how long a letter can go," laughed Ben. "Imagine I got a letter from Ireland, written five years ago. We thought everybody may as well listen to
such old news... and we set out to meet you."

"Oh, Hoss will be happy," Joe winked at Barbara, who indeed was an outstanding cook. "A letter from five years ago? Anybody you know in Ireland?"

"Not that I knew. We’ll read it together in the evening and get to know; what do you say?"

~~~~

"Dear Sir,

I know of two letters that my husband had sent to you. Unable to determine whether or not any other had ever been sent, I feel obliged to give a few details on
myself first. I am Mrs Adam Cartwright."

Ben blinked rapidly. Adam’s wife... The letter had been written five years ago. Two letters... When? None came; could it be possible they all got lost? and only
God’s providence had found this one to send it to them? What would it say?

"What does it say?", his grandson, Josh, noticed immediately the change on Ben’s face. They were all looking at the older man with anticipation. A lost letter, sent
five years ago, somehow evoked stronger emotions than an up-to-date one. Hoarsely, Ben read the first lines aloud, and continued with a mixture of anxiety and
anticipation.

"I am Mrs Adam Cartwright."

A sigh went through Ben’s audience. He read on.

"Your son, and my dearest husband, gave me the joy and honour of our having two children."

Silence sat down among them, allowing to digest the news – so old.

"The girl’s name is Elizabeth..."

Ben’s voice quivered.

"... and the boy bears the name of Eric."

Josh felt his father startle, and looked at the bulky frame beside him with instinctive sympathy.

"They are sweetest children, most obedient and well-mannered. They are twins, and now reach the age of twenty."

Ben stopped and rubbed his forehead with a shaky hand.

"Twenty... twenty," he whispered to himself with moist eyes. Shaking the overwhelming feeling off, he continued, both anxiety and anticipation doubled.

"We live in Ireland, but – please excuse my boldness – the children would most willingly get to know the lovely plains of Nevada. The more now."

Ben startled with a sudden feeling o something gone wrong. Very wrong. His voice quivering, he forced himself to continue.

"I am deeply sorry and in great pain to have to inform you of my now widowed state. I am aware it is not possible for you to attend the funeral..."

Ben stopped short, and two big tears rolled down his face. He averted his eyes from the letter, dreading to read on. The usually firm hand of his youngest son took
the paper shakily, relieving the father of the torture reading became. Now, Joe’s voice filled the air, just as shaky as his hand.

"... to attend the funeral; I cannot ask that. But for the sake of my children I write to ask you to admit us to your home at the Ponderosa. If you could only see them,
you would fall in love with them instantly, I can assure you of that. I am asking that for the sake of my late husband, too. He was not able to travel anywhere in the
past few years due to his fragile health, but had always wished his children to come "Home". I shall be looking forward to receiving your reply

Your humble servant

Eithne (Enya) Cartwright"

 

The words still echoed in Ben Cartwright’s silver head, when he lay on the hard ground, stars twinkling above. He had often thought about Adam during the years,
but never as... dead. So he married, and had two lovely children... Would they find them ever? Where did they live? How hard did the lack of answer hit them? Five
years have passed, five years, and he had never known until now about his son’s death...

A quiet sob for himself and his son escaped the old man’s lips, and tears rolled in big pearls down onto the ground. Suddenly, Ben startled at the silent steps, and
looked in the direction. The man stopped hesitatingly.

"Anything wrong, Mr Cartwright?", he drew the words out in the Southern fashion. After the roundup, he and his friend asked to stay at the ranch, and so were
accompanying the Cartwrights and their hands on their way home. Ben took to the young man, but the other one awoke anxiety. Beauty was a good comrade,
according to Joe, Beast therefore aloof and brooding, her face always in a shadow. It was so strange, to call the man Beauty, and the woman Beast.

The green, cat-like eyes of the young man gleamed in darkness.

"I’m fine," answered Ben quietly, strangling yet another sob. The man still stood there with hesitation.

"Mr Cartwright, I... heard what was in the letter." He approached the old man, his movements gracious, soft, feline. "I guess it’s okay to cry."

Ben looked at him sharply. "You’re losing your Southern accent, boy," he stated, his eyes suddenly careful.

"I’m not from South," admitted Beauty calmly, sitting at his heels. "Just liked the accent. What I mean is, it’s okay to cry, it’s just thatcha may wake your family, and
they’ll worry. They care for ya, ya see."

Finding understanding in Ben’s eyes, he suggested softly, "There was a lonely place I saw today, just a few steps away, where they shouldn’ hear ya. If ya don’ feel
well, I’ll be near ya."

Ben frowned. "Don’t you have your watch now?"

"’T’s okay, Beast ‘ll stay up," the blond head of the man turned to the dark shadow nearby. She was not to be heard approaching. White teeth glistened for a
second from under the black hat, "Don’tcha worry. Gotta help each other, don’tcha?"

Soundlessly, she turned and stepped to the fire, checking her winchester in its light.

"Couldn’a put it better myself," grinned Beauty. "Gee, she’d be a real beast if I didn’ help ya." His smile fading, he added, "Must be hard to lose a son."

Ben only winced.

"Had I got one letter, just one of these, I would have set out myself to get him home."

Ben rose eventually from where he sat, and motioned at Beauty. "Let’s get back."

The young man accompanied him in silence. In the camp, he sat by the fire silently next to his brooding companion.

***

Ben smiled gently, watching his family over breakfast, when suddenly he felt somebody’s presence behind him. Under the black hat he could hardly see anything but
Beast’s chin.

"Got relatives in Ireland," she said non-committally. "Should I ask ‘em to search for, uhm, Mrs Adam Cartwright? May take time, but at least ya’ll know if they’re
there."

Ben instantly revised his attitude to the young woman.

"Please." It was all he could say.

"’Kay," was the answer, and she turned and went to her horse, waving at Beauty.

Ben joined the breakfast, still mulling over Beast’s offer.

"Pa," Joe’s voice woke him from the thoughts. "We’ve actually thought about making a search in Ireland. What do you say?"

"Yeah, what do you say, Pa?", echoed Hoss, smiling gratefully at his wife, who had just filled his plate anew generously.

"Children, what do you actually know about these Beauty and Beast?", asked Ben unexpectedly, seemingly ignoring the question.

"Well, er... they’re siblings," began Joe, overcoming the surprise. "They speak with a Southern accent, seem to have worked at roundups... and that’s more less it."

"Beast is not a cowgirl," Sarah shook her head self-confidently. "At least she doesn’t do it for long."

"And how can you know that, young lady?", her father looked rather stern – he didn’t like being told he was wrong.

"I saw her swimming," she explained. "I’ve seen some cowgirls, Dad, and in comparison to them she’s a Greek goddess."

"Cowgirls may be well-shaped, too," noticed Ben non-committally.

"I don’t mean that, Grandpa," she shifted impatiently. "Her skin is too fair, and too delicate for a cowgirl. As for figure, she’s rather broad-shouldered," she glanced
at her own well-shaped, womanly shoulders, "but with a slim waist, and not so skinny as the cowgirls often are. She is a sports type, but not a physical worker."

"And I think they’re educated," Benji joined his sister in doubt. "They understand French, and know Shakespeare and Puritan’s works."

"And they’re real stylish," added Josh awkwardly. "Although she does have a hard punch."

"There is something in them," Hoss backed up his son. "Something that makes them different from the rest. Like a high-spirited horse in a whole stud, you’ll notice it
but you can’t name the difference. Why do you actually ask about them? What about Adam’s kids?", he frowned, thinking of a possible reason.

Ben looked at the foreman and his friend. "Bronc? Jacob? What do you think of those two?"

Bronc shifted and grimaced. "Ehm... I wouldn’t trust them yet. I know them too little. They work rather fine, that’s all I can say."

"Jacob?"

"I’m with Hoss and Josh." The man smiled, his teeth’s shining emphasised by the dark complexion. "And I might trust them if need be."

"Maybe it’s just intuition," began Barbara softly, uneasy to interrupt the conversation unasked. "Maybe it’s irrational, but I feel they are trustworthy, Father. And
loving and warm. They just don’t want to show it. What did this young woman tell you a moment ago? Something to do with Adam’s family?"

All started, and Ben looked with surprised appreciation at his daughter-in-law. Women always surprised him with their intuition.

"She said she had relatives in Ireland whom she could ask to search for them," he explained. "I asked her to do it, but I wanted to know your opinion on them."

"Hey, that’s certainly good news," Hoss grinned happily. "Why didn’t you say so right away?"

"How come?", inquired Joe curiously.

"Well, the... uhm, do you really call them Beauty and Beast?", Ben smiled rather sheepishly. "It just sounds so strange. Beauty told me they had heard the letter’s
content, and we talked a while. The boy really wanted to help me get over all those bad feelings. And in the morning she told me about her relatives. That’s the
whole story."

"So I was right," Barbara felt pleased with herself. "She must be the elder one. He wanted to talk to her first," she explained. And then she made the decision."

"Uhm... by the way, Pa," Joe finished his coffee and started to get up. "I thought we might hire a detective anyway; you know, no one’s omniscient, they might not
check everything. They shouldn’t feel offended."

Ben nodded. "So that’s settled then. Let’s go home and take care of everything."

"Mr Cartwright," the dark shape appeared silently nearby. "Shall we stop in Virginia City? Send request to family."

"Certainly," Ben smiled at the young woman. "Thank you for your help."

The woman seemed to hesitate. "Should there be news, our mom will bring ‘em. May she stay a while on the ranch?"

"Why, of course," Ben got up and approached her to thank her. Suddenly, her horse, which she held by the reins, reared, forcing Ben to step back.

"Have a nice day, Mr Cartwright," she turned and pulled the horse behind her.

"Let’s go," Jacob took Ben’s arm gently. "She let’s nobody near her but her brother. She almost trampled one of the hands who wanted to make closer
acquaintance. At least, now she held the horse back."

***

"Come in, Ma’am," Hoss smiled awkwardly at the blond woman in the doorway, Beauty’s mother, obviously. Although the charm of youth had withered, she was
still a handsome and attractive woman.

"I brought news," she said simply, smiling back. Her Irish accent made her even more charming. "I believe I should wait for the whole family to gather, shouldn’t I?"

"Yyes, Ma’am, certainly, Ma’am," stammered Hoss with embarrassment. "You must be tired after your journey, Ma’am. Please make yourself at home."

His wife appeared by his side. "Oh, you must be the mother of this wonderful young man; please come in. My name is Barbara."

"Mary."

"I’m so glad to meet you, Mary," Barbara hugged the guest vigorously. "Did you bring any news about Adam’s wife and kids? Will they come?"

Mary giggled. "I hope so much you can wait for everybody to come. Otherwise my throat may have to endure serious problems."

"Oh, I’m so impatient, forgive me, but we’d all like to know," Barbara led their guest to the sofa. "But if you are here, it means that you found them, as I
understand..."

"Let’s wait for the whole family," repeated Mary with a lovely, feline smile. Turning to the bulky figure nearby, she asked gently, "You must be Hoss Cartwright. I
understand you and Barbara are married."

"Yes, Ma’am," confirmed the man proudly. "And that’s our son, Josh," he looked at the young man – so alike! – who appeared in the doorway.

"You must be Beauty’s mother," reacted Josh instantly. "Did you bring news about our family, Ma’am?"

"Josh, you’re being impolite," whispered Barbara, but Mary answered with a smile, "Yes, dear."

"Ma’am," the blond head of Benji and the darker of Sarah appeared in the doorway, casting curious looks.

"You must be Benji... and Sarah," Mary nodded gently towards them. "I’m pleased to meet you."

"Did you find our cousins?", inquired Benji eagerly. Sarah thundered him with a stern gaze, but just then, cast another curious glance at their guest.

Mary rested herself on the sofa and quietly asked Barbara, " Is Ben Cartwright... and Joe... there? I’d like to talk in front of the whole family. Should I count Jacob
in, too? And Bronc?"

Barbara thought for a moment. "Well, yes... I think it’s best if you lie down for now, and I’ll wake you for supper, when the whole family is gathered? Oh, unless you
are hungry; would you like to eat something?"

"Something light, if I may."

***

Ben sat, his face hidden in his hands, various voices flowing above him.

"How come they found them so quickly?", wondered Joe. "Can it be proved that she knows something and not makes it up?"

"Joe, you sound just like Adam!", Hoss uncharacteristically got irritated. "Stop being sceptical, you didn’t even meet her!"

"It’s too important for us, we can’t allow somebody to play with our feelings, Hoss, we have to get certain the news is true."

"And what do you say if we first listen to her, and then decide whether it is true or not?", suggested Hoss with irritation. "I think," he emphasised the ‘I’, "that we
know Adam well enough to recognise the truth about him. But – okay, maybe you are a clairvoyant," Hoss raised his hands in mock surrender. "Maybe you have
already heard her thoughts, well, congratulations, little brother, I have never known you were that talented!"

In spite of the stress, Mary giggled from behind Ben. "Well, YOU sound just like Adam to me."

All turned to her in surprise. Ben slowly raised his head and looked at Mary blankly.

"You must be Mr Ben Cartwright," she said with a lovely smile. "I was hoping very much to meet you. You see," she rested beside him, "I know – I knew – Mr and
Mrs Cartwright personally."

All startled.

"She has asked me to come here and – forgive me if you shall find it wrong – to get to know you before she comes. She knows nobody of your family but Adam.
She has never met you. So she has asked me to be her messenger, and to tell her about you. As their friend I know, I believe, all that might be of interest to you.
Ask. This young man may begin, if he wants to prove me a liar," she looked at Joe, and her lovely smile somehow wasn’t so lovely anymore.

"I’m not such a young man," rectified Joe uneasily.

"You’re twelve years younger than Adam. He always thought of you as his kid brother Little Joe," said Mary quietly.

"You knew Adam well?"

"Yes."

Then Ben spoke up. "How did he feel... about us?"

She thought for a moment. "The answer is my knowledge of who is who in your family. You are the father, who would give everything he might or might not to make
his children happy. And whom he always hated to disappoint."

Ben started slightly, knowing how deeply Adam hid these feelings. Mary continued quietly.

"Adam was born 1830 of Elizabeth Stoddard; Hoss six years later, of Adam’s "Mama Inger", Joe another six years later, the mother being Marie. Adam referred to
Hoss as his haven, he was always gentle and peaceful for him." Noticing that Hoss glanced uneasily at his big hands, she said, "Let me remind you that he took every
punch from you as rightly deserved." Hoss startled. She continued, "Joe was always his kid brother, who should be taken care of. He continually enforced the image
of an adult brother in his mind, but hardly succeeded. He knew Hoss married Barbara and knew about Josh. He knew about Joe’s marriage and which schools his
two children attended. At first, as you didn’t answer his letters, he wasn’t sure whether he should come here or not. Then, his work didn’t allow him to travel, and
when he decided to come here, he was already ill. He could get well enough to lead a normal life, but his health – probably inherited from his mother – remained too
fragile to allow such a journey. He said he wouldn’t believe you didn’t want him home, unless you told him that in the face. He never got the chance to ask," her
voice sank to a whisper. "He loved you very, very much; he always said he’d had nobody else but you, but that he was therefore richer than if he‘d had the whole
world."

After a moment of silence Ben asked hoarsely, "How does his wife look like? How is she like?"

"She’s blond, more less of my built. She wants to get to know you, but she is afraid to meet only strangers here. She has never met you before."

"Why didn’t she come with you?"

"Mr Cartwright, her coming is wholly dependent on me," answered Mary frankly. "She will come if you are as Adam described you."

"And the children? Tell us about them," asked Ben. "There are two, Eric and Elizabeth?"

"Yes. They are 25 by now. They’re very much like their parents; and they take much after Adam in character."

"Are they tolerable?", Ben attempted to smile. She appreciated the effort, awarding it with a gracious smile of herself, "Most of the time."

"I never knew Uncle Adam," began Joe shyly, "but I wish I could get to know him through... through his family... through our cousins. I know him only from photos."

"Please, please ask them to come," chorused Sarah and Benji, startling, as neither expected the other to speak up.

"Mary...", Hoss wanted to speak but found no words appropriate. "Just bring them home. Home is family, Mary, that’s what Adam taught me, and he taught me
everything I know."

Joe abruptly turned to the fireplace, but not before Mary could notice his moist eyes.

"A family should be together. Maybe... Adam... would come back... through them... If they can’t afford coming, I’ll pay," he offered spontaneously, thinking this
might be the problem. "Or better even, we’ll go to get them home ourselves, what do you think?", he cast an expectant look around.

"And what if his wife won’t be as you expect her to be?", asked Mary with a hint of a smile. "Maybe you won’t like her?"

"Ma’am," Joe looked at her in mock horror. "Whatever my opinion of Adam be, I’d never accuse him of bad taste! He always picked the girls I wanted."

Hoss smiled at that in a reflexive action and leaned forward to emphasise his words. "Mary, if she was worth loving to Adam, I’ll love her, too, ‘cause she’s my
sister, and ‘cause I know what he was looking for in his future wife."

"People change," she retorted gently. "Love is not predictable, and ideals may melt facing reality. For example, Mrs Cartwright is not educated."

"Mary, if you knew Adam, then you know how stubbornly he refused to change. And he had the gift of choosing wonderful women to give his heart to. You say you
were friends; this exactly proves my point, as you are charming and warm, and he chose you to be his friend. That’s much, Mary, Adam was distrustful by nature,
and he chose his friends carefully."

"That’s why he chose you two in the first place," said she softly, encompassing Joe and Hoss in a long, warm look. Love and memories silenced both of them into
sad yet sweet smiles.

"I wish I were there when it happened," said Ben simply, looking into the fire. He sensed presence behind his back again.

"To see him die?", Beast’s voice cut the air brutally. "He said, at least you didn’t have to see THIS loss."

So sincere that it hurts, thought Ben with amazement at the similarity.

"I once heard somebody say that a married couple grew rather alike in the course of years," he noticed, speaking to no one in particular, as it seemed.

"So?", inquired Mary politely.

"So," confirmed Ben, raising his eyes upon her. "Next time just come and say what’s on your mind, Enya, child."

A slow smile crept upon her handsome, cat-like features, and the glittering emeralds of her eyes hid behind the eyelids. "Father," she answered simply, as an
obedient daughter should.

Ben rose and turned to the siblings.

"Eric – "

The young man smiled. "Hi, Grandpa." His voice was unmistakably deep and rich and, the accent more familiar now, Ben suddenly understood why he had taken to
Eric immediately. He reached to the black hat of the other shadow. "No horse?", he asked with a gentle smile.

"No horse," she echoed. The tar-black plait fell snakewise from under the hat down her back.

"Daring," she commented, and a predatory smile awarded Ben. "Hi, Grandpa." Her accent was a bit Irish, a bit British and a bit American.

Ben stood, drowning in the deep wells of the dark eyes. As much as Eric resembled his mother, Elizabeth was a living picture of Adam. The predator smiled more
broadly.

"What was that you said about Dad coming back here, Uncle Joe?"

Ben took her hand delicately. "Beth – May I call you so?"

"Best for family," she answered. "Or Beast."

"Elizabeast," whispered Eric dramatically.

"Now would you behave, Eric Black-eye Beauty," she showed her teeth again, this time obviously the ‘Dare me’ way.

Eithne rose slowly and smiled to everybody. "Shouldn’t we be eating supper? It is rather late, and emotions make one hungry, right, Hoss?"

She felt the massive arm go around her shoulders. "So it is, sis. So it is."

Planting a kiss on Joe’s moistly agitated cheek, she went towards – family.

***

The sudden burst of laughter by the fireplace made Ben smile. His grandchildren were obviously enjoying themselves. Best just then turned into the fearsome Lady
Macbeth and recited one of her monologues in dramatic tones and stance. Eric unashamedly rolled on the sofa, giggling infectiously, eventually unable to say his lines
as Macbeth, which at first upset, and then enraged his sister.

"Why, you good-for-nothing, it is I who try hard to bring some culture to those open minds desiring to know more than their morning and evening ranch chores, and
thou, thou destroys mine efforts, thus robbing thy poor cousins of the greatest cultural pleasure!", she mimicked perfectly Adam’s outraged hollering, adding a touch
of Shakespeare to it. "Shame on thyself, peasant, beg for forgiveness! To thy knees, knave! – Ou!"

She cried involuntarily, when Eric grabbed her in the waist and threw over his shoulder. "Now, who’s in for begging?", he grinned. Benji and Josh were dying of
laughter, whereas Sarah jumped up.

"Can’t you help her?" she yelled at the laughing duo. Suddenly, Eric cried, "Owww!" He’d just felt Best pounding on his back. And she was a strong woman.

"Now, who’s in for letting go?", she gasped, rather uncomfortable in this position, continuously pounding on his back.

"Benji, Josh," Sarah stamped her foot, "would you help her!"

Noticing somebody at the door, Best yelled angrily, "Would somebody save a poor helpless lady out of this peasant’s hands at last, huh!?"

"Poor helpless lady!", gasped Eric sarcastically, holding her in spite of his spine being seriously endangered.

Just then, two strong arms pulled Best over his shoulder out of his grasp, and the woman landed in manly arms. She immediately threw her own arms affectionately
around the man’s neck, declaring in a sweet and yearning voice, "My hero..."

The dark-haired, blue-eyed ‘hero’ eyed Eric with a certain sympathy, then turned and strolled with his burden to where Ben sat.

"Good day to you, sir," he greeted the older man courtly.

She felt she should introduce the newcomer to the host, thus she announced, "My beloved Grandpa, Mr Ben Cartwright – my dearest husband, Mr Thaddeus
Novak. My hero," she kissed her husband and allowed him to put her down. "I’ll make you some coffee, Teddy," she whispered coquettishly, and only briefly turned
to Sarah. "Thank you for your support, honey. Next time simply use the poker."

Eric growled briefly in answer to that.

Thaddeus gazed after his wife for a moment with the stupefied expression of one freshly in love and the enamoured look of a worshipper. Then, he turned to Ben.

"I’m indeed glad for your whole family to be together," he smiled gently. "I allowed myself to bring the belongings of Mr Adam Cartwright’s family – that is, mine –
and take some of them to your ranch. The rest will probably have to be sent for to the railway station, I’m afraid."

"Don’t worry, we’ll take care of that," Ben assured him. "Let me introduce you to my other children and grandchildren. My sons aren’t home yet, you’ll meet them
later," he explained. "Barbara!", he turned to the kitchen entrance. His daughter-in-law smiled heartily to the newcomer.

"So you are Thaddeus. May I call you Tad? Or maybe Mr Novak? Welcome home," she hugged him as her own son.

"It’s certainly ‘Tad’, Madam, otherwise I’d feel offended," he smiled back. He seemed a very proud and cool man, but he could easily emanate inner warmth.

"Hello, mama," he welcomed Eithne, who hugged him, too, and planted a warm kiss on his cheek. "It’s so good to see you, child, I missed you."

Josh, Sarah and Benji approached the guest, smiling and eyeing him with interest. Eric simply patted Thaddeus’ back and threw him the predatory smile Best usually
presented; he received a cheerful wink in return. Thaddeus smiled at the appearance of a coffee pot in his wife’s hands – so graceful! – and looked at Best lovingly.

"So I guess all the strays were found and brought home, as Dad would say," she commented. "And the roundup’s over at last."

The End (of a beginning)


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