Nestled against his shoulder was the head of his youngest son Joseph. Ben smiled down at his son's sleeping face. Joe was still sound asleep, his long eyelashes curling onto his cheek, his hair curling across his slightly damp forehead. His clothes were covered in dust from the long trip. Ben tried to flex his fingers without waking his son but soon gave up.

Ben felt a bizarre mixture of anticipation and anxiety about this trip to New Orleans. Only two weeks ago he, Joe, Hoss and Adam had been busily planning for their Annual cattle drive. A week before they were to leave Ben had received a telegram from his lawyers in San Francisco, reporting some difficulties with several investments Ben had in New Orleans. Ben quickly realized that while the problems were not substantial it was time for him to visit New Orleans and resolve the problems. Given the change in weather that could be expected in the coming months it rapidly became obvious the only time to make the trip would be in September, during the cattle drive.

When Ben had made his Announcement Hoss and Adam had readily agreed, while Joe had fallen strangely silent. Ben recognized all the signs, Joe was upset. He wanted to go on the cattle drive with his brothers but what Joe really wanted was to go to New Orleans.

Joe's mother Marie was Louisiana born and bred, and Ben had met her in New Orleans almost exactly twenty years ago. Ben loved Marie almost on first sight and had whisked her away from her difficult life to the beauty of the Ponderosa. There they had almost seven wonderful years before Marie's death, when Joe was only five. Joe was fascinated with his mother and everything about New Orleans. Every time someone from New Orleans appeared in Virginia City Joe would immediately track him or her down and ask many questions about the city. Ben had considered all this and decided that this time Joe was to accompany him to the city that so fascinated him.

The stage gave another violent lurch and Joe gave a small snort and woke up. He quickly realized he was cuddled next to his father and immediately sat up, attempting to recover a bit of his dignity.

"Hey Pa. Sorry." Joe smiled brightly at his father and ran his fingers through his freshly cut hair.

"Well son, we should be in New Orleans in about an hour. What do you think of Louisiana so far?" Ben grinned as Joe immediately craned his head and stuck his face out the window of the coach. Joe's eyes took in the lush green landscape, the humidity creating almost a haze that extended as far as the eye could see.

"Boy it's green here Pa. Like nothing I've ever seen."

"Yes Joe, this is a very different climate than the one you are used to. You'll have to take it easy while you get used to the heat, none of your usual racing around." Ben realized as soon as he said it that it was going to be nearly impossible to keep Joe under check during their two-week visit.
"So Pa, tell me again. Tell me about the places we are going to go see." For a moment Joe was the five-year-old of Ben's memories as he asked the same question for the 100th time on this trip.

"Joe, I promise you I will take you all over New Orleans. We'll go see the convent school your mother attended when she was a girl and we'll eat in the restaurant where she and I had our first dinner. We'll see everything, but you must remember we have business to attend to on this trip as well." A stern expression covered Ben's face.

"Yes Pa, I'll remember. Hey Pa, look I can see it." Joe pointed and Ben could see the crowded buildings of the port of New Orleans.

Two hours later Ben and Joe were ensconced in a large suite in the very elegant Hotel DuMont. Ben had made reservations and asked for a suite. The last time he had come to New Orleans the riches of the Ponderosa were still a dream. Ben had stayed with a friend of Joe's mother's. That was how Marie and Ben met.

Ben normally would not stay in so lavish a place but New Orleans was a city that respected wealth. Ben knew that while it was not important for himself or Joe, it was necessary for his business dealings to be seen as prosperous. He smiled as he watched Joe wander between the two bedrooms and the sitting room, ogling the lavish decorations, the large ornate beds covered with mosquito netting and the silken bedding.

Joe walked into the livingroom with a big grin on his face, "Hey Pa, I never seen a place like this before except for Julia Bulette's place. Are you sure we ain't staying in a ..."

"Joseph Francis Cartwright." Ben thundered. He turned to glare at his young son and was relieved to see Joe collapse on the sofa giggling. Joe had been involved with Julia, a notorious saloonkeeper in Virginia City almost a year ago. Ben had never truly explored the full extent of his son's relationship with Julia and he wasn't sure he wanted to.
"Joseph, this is a very nice hotel. If you can't behave yourself then we are not going to take you to dinner in the dining room. Which would be a shame since it is a very fine restaurant and the food is superb."

Joe sobered quickly. "Sorry Pa. I'll behave." He suppressed any giggles that remained and stood up. "Do I look all right?"

Ben surveyed his son. Joe looked very handsome in the new suit of clothes Ben had purchased for him before leaving Virginia City. Like his brothers Joe spent most of his time in simple work clothes, designed to protect him from the rigors of ranch life, the sun, the tough terrain, the horses and cattle. His new suit, in a very dark green made Joe seem even more slender than usual. With his hair neatly brushed and his face shining he made his father proud. "You look very nice son. That suit seems to be a good fit."

"Yes Pa. You look very nice as well." Joe beamed at his father, Ben was dressed in an elegant dark gray suit. His shirt cuffs were a pristine white accented with gold cuff links.

"Are you ready son?" With that Ben opened the door and ushering Joe before him they moved out the door and down the large grand staircase that led to the first floor.

Upon entering the dining room Joe stopped looking around wide-eyed. The tall ceilings were covered with gold foil, which reflected the flight of the brilliant chandeliers lit with candles. Ben smiled and nudged Joe forward towards the elegantly attired maitre'd.

"Two please, garcon." Ben requested.
"Oui Monsieur. Follow me please." The maitre d' led the two to a small table, covered with an elegant lace table cloth laid over fine linen. Joe sat down and gazed around him with awe. "Gee Pa, this is really fancy."

"Yes Joe. This is a very fine restaurant. So watch your manners."

"Yes sir." Joe was relatively subdued, overawed by the elegance all around him. Ben knew this would only last so long. He accepted the menu handed to him by the waiter. Ben surveyed the menu and smiled, it was completely in French. Fortunately Marie had taught him some French and the menu was mostly understandable to him. He smiled as Joe began to study the menu intently. Ben knew that Joe knew a little French, mostly taught to him by his brother Adam. Ben knew that Joe had a facility with languages, he was fluent in Spanish and Ben had a sneaking suspicion that Little Joe was hiding a degree of fluency in Chinese from his family. He had noticed that when Hop Sing went on a rant Joe actually seemed to be able to follow what was being said. He was fairly certain that Joe did not understand the menu at all.

When the waiter arrived at their table he greeted both men cordially. "May I suggest a fine white wine, gentlemen? Followed by an appetizer. Perhaps some escargots? Then we can follow that with a fine cassoulet of shrimp and some pommes frites" The waiter directed his gaze at Ben who looked inquiringly at his son.

"Does that sound good to you Joe?" Ben asked.
 Joe blinked and then smiled and nodded his ascent. Ben smothered a smile, Joe was in for a bit of a surprise. They spoke casually until the waiter arrived and presented Ben with a bottle of a fine white wine. He allowed Ben to sample the wine. Ben nodded his approval and glasses were poured for both men. Ben watched as Joe sipped his wine carefully. Joe's face was thoughtful then he nodded his approval and sipped it again. Ben recognized yet another trait inherited from his mother, her ability to recognize and appreciate fine wines.

"It's very good Pa, perhaps a bit sweet but overall quite good." Ben was briefly surprised, he had thought the wine excellent but as he sipped it again he realized Joe was right.

"You are quite correct Joe. I'm surprised you notice that, your taste generally runs to beer in the saloon with your brothers."

"Adam took me to a little wine shop for a tasting the last time we were in San Francisco Pa."

"Really," Ben was intrigued. He had not expected that of Adam.

"Well he couldn't really shake me Pa, you had told him that we were supposed to stick together on that trip."

"Did you enjoy it?"
"Oh yes Pa. Except Adam was kind of upset with me."

"Why was that Joe?"

"Well after we had sampled a few they had a kind of a game, where people had to identify which wine was which. I got them all right."

"How did Adam do?"

"Not very well. It seemed the more different wines he had the more confused his palate became."

"Where did you learn that word Joe?"

"The gentleman who ran the shop taught it to me. I went back and saw him several times while we were there, he taught me quite a bit."

"Good grief." Ben rolled his eyes in despair. Poor Adam, who always considered himself a connoisseur of the finer things. His New England taste buds were no match for Little Joe's French heritage. No wonder Adam had said nothing.A moment later the waiter appeared carrying two plates covered with silver lids. Placing one in front of Ben and the other in front of Joe he lifted the lids off with a flourish. Ben stifled a laugh as he saw the look on Joe's face as he slowly realized that his plate was covered with snails.

Joe's mouth dropped open and he turned his face to his father with a mingled expression of dismay and astonishment. Ben could no longer contain himself and he threw his head back and laughed. The waiter, equally amused, joined him. Joe watched them both for a moment then joined them.

Across the dining room a couple sat sedately eating their supper, speaking quietly. Anyone seeing them for the first time would know immediately that they were brother and sister. The two had thick, curly brown hair, large hazel green eyes and dimpled cheeks. The man was of medium height, with a slight frame and an air of suppressed energy. The woman was very much like her brother only with an air of sweetness about her.

At the sound of laughter they ceased their quiet conversation and turned to see the source of amusement. They both became still as they took in the scene in front of them. Both fixed their eyes on Little Joe's laughing face and froze. The woman turned back to her brother, "Francois, do you see him?"

"Felicia, I can hardly miss him. Who do you think he is?"
"It must be him. The one she wrote about. Do you think it could be? After all these years?" Her eyes filled with tears as she continued to watch Joe.

"Oh Felicia, please don't cry. We may be wrong. Why would he be here, she is gone."

"Perhaps that is his father. Oh please Francois, we must find out."

Francois looked thoughtful then nodded. He rose from his chair and circled behind his sister, pulling out her chair. "My dear, let us find out."

The two walked gracefully arm in arm over to where Joe and his father, having calmed their laughter were eating. Joe was thoughtfully chewing his very first snail and his face was a mixture of feelings.

"How do you like it Joe?" Ben was impressed that his son was willing to try something new.

As Joe opened his mouth to respond he paused as a couple came up to there table. Ben turned to greet the couple and his mouth dropped open in astonishment. The woman was the spitting image of his late wife Marie. And the man, Ben's eyes swung to the younger version of the man's face, his own son. Joe followed his father's gaze as he took in the two people. He thought there was something very familiar about both of them but he couldn't place it. If he had looked into a mirror he would have had his answer.

Ben stood quickly, "May I help you?"

"Yes, Monsieur, we must ask, is your name perhaps Cartwright?" the gentleman asked.

"Yes, it is." Ben nodded gravely. The thing he had feared might happen on this trip to New Orleans was about to happen.

"Then is this," the woman turned towards Joe, "Marie's son?"
Ben nodded again, "Yes this is my son Joseph."

Joe rapidly rose to his feet, "Pa, what is going on?" He was bewildered.

"Joseph, these are some members of your mother's family." Ben turned to them, "I'm sorry, since we've never met I am not sure who you are."

"Pardon Monsieur, my name is Francois DesVries and this is my sister Felicia Aumont." He turned to look Joe right in the eyes. The resemblance between the two men was remarkable, far stronger than any resemblance Joe bore to Ben or to his brothers. Green eyes meeting green eyes at the same level Francois spoke, "Your mother was our youngest sister, Marie."

Joe's eyes widened in astonishment. He turned to his father, "Pa, is this true?"

"Yes Joseph, your mother's family still lives here in Louisiana. Your mother was separated from them long before we met. I knew of her father and wrote when your mother passed away, but they never responded."

Joe's gaze swung back to Felicia and Francois, both of whom were gazing at him steadily. "Yes Joseph, it is true. When she died, our father merely told us she was dead, he forbid us to ever mention her name again in his presence. We knew only that she had a son. At last, we have found you."

Ben looked anxiously at his son's face, wanting to know what Joe's reaction was to this news. He saw confusion, and something else reflected there. Joe was never good at hiding his emotions, and Ben saw that this occasion was no different. Ben had been dreading this very situation, but he had convinced himself that the odds of Joe meeting any of his mother's family in a city the size of New Orleans were remote. Yet here they were, like specters of the past, haunting him in this city where the living and the dead seemed to co-exist.

Joe suddenly remembered his manners and said "Please, won't you join us? We were just having dinner..." He didn't ask his father if it was all right with him, indeed he avoided looking at Ben.

Inside, Joe was furious with his father. Many times he had asked Ben if there wasn't some of his mother's family still in New Orleans. Ben had always shaken his head and said that her parents were dead. Questions raced through Joe's head. Why had his Pa not been straight with him? Why hadn't he wanted him to meet his family?

"If you are sure it is all right" Felicia said uncertainly. Joe nodded eagerly. Francois pulled out a chair for her and they settled down at the table.

Francois cleared his throat and said to Joe, "My boy, you can't know how happy we are to find you... Marie's boy..." he smiled at Joe, trailing off as his emotions threatened to get the better of him.

Felicia took Joe's hand and said "We tried very hard to find you, but we did not know where you were—other than out west. Our papa, he destroyed any letter from Marie, we knew only that she had a son, lived out west and died thirteen years ago. We did not even know your first name, Joseph. Our papa died, and with him, everything he knew about you. I cannot tell you how much it means to me, to us, to find you now. It is like a miracle." Felicia smiled warmly, fighting back tears of happiness.

"We would have known you anywhere, Joseph" said Francois. "You look so much like your mother, it is astonishing".

Joe grinned at him. "People have been telling me that all my life, but now, I sure am glad I do, since it helped you to find me". Ben observed the three of them quietly. It was almost unnerving to him, how similar the three of them were. He saw gestures Francois made that were similar to ones Joe used. And like Joe, Francois was seated at the edge of his chair, as if ready to spring up at a moment's notice. And looking at Felicia, Ben felt a stab of sorrow in his heart. She was so like Marie, an older version and more calm, but he could see the same sweetness on her face.

Ben was jolted back to the present by Joe's laugh. "Ha! School and I just didn't get along," Joe was saying to Francois, in answer to the older man's question about his formal education. "No, I wasn't much of a student, that was my older brother's department".

Joe's aunt and uncle asked him questions about the ranch, his family and his life and Joe chattered away to them throughout dinner, oblivious to Ben's silence. Once in a while Ben interjected a comment about Joe, or their life on the ranch, but he decided to let Joe and his relatives have their time together.

"So, do you both live here in New Orleans?" Joe asked.

"Well, I do, I have a townhouse in the French Quarter, but Francois lives outside of town on a sugar plantation, Rivieux Rouge. I have a plantation too, Belle Mer, but I do not run it anymore, I have an overseer do it for me. It was my late husband's home. We had no children, so I had no one to take it over."

Francois spoke up. "You have some cousins, Joseph, I have three children, two of whom are around your age I think. They are at Rivieux Rouge now. There is Phillipe, he is the eldest and is twenty, and Sylvie who is 18. And then little Jacques, who is five. He is so sweet and funny. They are there with my wife, Charlotte. Oh, how I would love for you to meet them, they would be so excited to meet their cousin who is a cowboy!" Francois laughed.

Joe turned to Ben, his eyes alight with excitement. "Do you suppose I could meet them Pa?"

"Joseph, you have not yet been invited anywhere" admonished Ben. "Besides you and I should talk about this, son." Ben gave Joe a stern look. He was rewarded with a scowl from Joe.

Francois spoke up, "But he must come visit us Ben! We have just found him and there is so much we must talk about! And he must see Rivieux Rouge, it is the home of DesVries for almost one hundred years. It is his home too, Ben, it was his mother's home."

At this, Joe turned pleading eyes on his father. "Pa..."
"Joseph, we will discuss this later." Ben said in a tone that brooked no argument. "Would we be able to send a message tomorrow? I have business to attend to and I will be here for another week at least."

Felicia said "I know, why doesn't Joseph come to my home for lunch tomorrow while you are attending to your business, Ben? I'd love to have him and he can give us his answer then". She gave Joe an address in the French Quarter and told him that any coachman would be able to find it easily.

All four stood up from the table and Felicia turned to Joe and embraced him. "Oh, Joseph" she said, "I am so happy..." Joe turned to Francois and shook his hand, which Francois grasped tightly with both hands. He merely gave Joe an emotional smile.

"Tomorrow then" Francois said, as he and Felicia turned to leave.

"I'll be there" Joe called.

Joe turned and looked at his Pa briefly, but would not meet Ben's eyes. Together they walked upstairs, neither of them speaking. They entered their suite and Joe turned to go into his room at the left.

"Joseph," Ben said. "Joseph, don't you think we had better talk?"

"I don't have anything to say to you", Joe said angrily. His voice was quiet and steely.

"Don't you?" Ben asked. "You wouldn't speak to me at dinner, I know you are angry at me".

"Shouldn't I be? You lied to me." Joe demanded. He walked over to the window and stood looking out, his back to Ben, his arms crossed. Ben could see his tension, even from the back.

"Maybe you should wait to hear what I say before you make that assumption, Joe" Ben said quietly.

Joe said nothing. Ben waited a moment and said "Joe?"

"I'm listening" said Joe irritably.
Ben sighed. "Joe, I knew your mother had family, yes..."

Joe turned and cut off his father. "If you knew, why didn't you tell me, I asked you and you told me they were dead!" His eyes were dark with anger. He sat down hard on the couch.

"Joseph, you will not interrupt me" Ben said firmly. Joe looked at the floor, fiercely studying the oriental carpeting, but said nothing. "I knew she had family, a brother and a sister, but she had not had contact with them in many years. Other than her father, I didn't know where they were, or even really who they were. She didn't talk about them, Joe. It was a part of her life she wanted to forget. Everything here—she wanted to forget it all and start over in Virginia City with me, with Hoss and Adam." Ben paused, wishing he could see Joe's face, but Joe continued to stare at the floor.

"Why?" Joe asked. "Why did she want to forget? What did she have to be so ashamed of?" Joe's voice was rising higher, and Ben knew he was really getting upset. He went over to his son and put his hand on Joe's shoulder.

"Nothing, Joe, your mother had nothing to be ashamed of. She was a wonderful person." Ben moved in front of Joe and knelt down on one knee, looking into Joe's face. "Sometimes people do things they would rather just not dwell on... they move on, and that part of their life is over. All these years later, it doesn't matter... do you see, Joe?"

"But it does matter" Joe said stubbornly, "it matters to me. Don't YOU see Pa? I never really knew my mother, I finally have a chance, at least to know her family, to find out more...." he trailed off, choking back his emotions. "I want to go to Rivieux Rouge, Pa, I want to meet my cousins and see where my ma grew up. Please, Pa, I NEED to do this. I need to know who I am, where I came from." Joe sighed, and ran his hands through his hair.

Ben stood up and walked to the window, pacing back and forth. "You don't know this Joe? You don't know where your family is?" Ben was beginning to be angry with himself. He never should have brought Joe here. This could drive a wedge between his youngest son and the rest of the family. And he was afraid that Joe would be hurt emotionally by these people or more accurately, by what they knew about Marie.

He sighed. This trip was not turning out to be what he had hoped for—a chance for he and his youngest son to get to know each other better, to share past memories. He was startled to hear the sound of a door closing, and he turned. Joe had retired to his room, apparently wanting to be left alone.
Ben sighed and shook his head. To Ben, the closed door was a symbol of the barrier that was suddenly between them. Ben knew he couldn't understand how Joe felt, how could he when he had grown up with two parents who had loved him. But Hoss and Adam... they didn't seem to have this burning desire to know their mother's families. Of course, Adam and Hoss had both known a mother's love for much of their childhood. Joe had been so young when his mother died, he could barely remember her.

Ben was tired. It had been a long and emotionally charged day and he was ready for bed. He was sure that further confrontation with his youngest lay ahead, and he knew he was going to have to be very careful in how he handled this situation or he could end up alienating Joe permanently. Ben finally fell into a troubled sleep, lulled by the soft, distant horns of the ships as they pulled into port.

Little Joe stood for a few minutes behind his closed bedroom door. He was expecting his father to follow him. He let out a deep sigh when he heard his father's own bedroom door closing. He felt oddly relieved and yet sad that his father hadn't followed him. He began to get ready for bed, unbuttoning and removing his shirt, jacket and pants. He went to the dresser to get out his cotton nightshirt but paused as he realized he was completely comfortable in just his drawers. He smiled as he thought of his two brothers on the cattle drive, sleeping near the campfire in their clothes and jackets -there was already a deep chill in the evening air when he and his father had left Nevada.

Joe moved to the large window seat and pulled open the windows. As they swung inward he breathed deeply, smelling the strong salt smell mingled with the scent of magnolias. A warm moist breeze flowed over his body and he curled himself up on the window seat staring intently out at the water bathed in moonlight. Joe's feelings churned inside him, anger, sadness, happiness, and somehow fear. He didn't want to hurt his father but he needed to learn more about his family, his mother's family. He sighed again and lost himself in the sights and sounds that flowed through his window.

The next morning Joe and his father breakfasted together. For a brief time there was an awkward silence as both father and son struggled with what to say to each other. Finally Joe could not stand the strained feelings between them. "Pa, I'm sorry about last night. I know you meant this to be a special trip for us. And it is special, more than I ever thought it could be Pa. I was hoping to find out something about my mother and her family, suddenly I have more family than I ever thought possible. Can you understand what this means to me Pa? Joe pleaded with his father.

Ben grew thoughtful. "Yes Joe, I do understand. You have to realize that all I know is that your mother separated from her family years before she and I ever met. Now Felicia and Francois tell us that was due to her father. And certainly they both seem to love her. I just can't help feeling that there must be more to all of this. I don't want you to be hurt."

"Pa, I can't promise I won't get hurt. But as you always taught us the truth shall set us free. I need to know where Mama came from, who she was before she met you. All the things I would have learned if I had a chance to know her. I guess I always felt Hoss and Adam were lucky, they got to know her, and Adam also got to know Hoss's mama. In a way Adam had two mothers, Inger and my mama. Hoss got my mother. I didn't get one, not really. I feel like I can get a chance to have mine too, if just a little bit through meeting our family" Joe fell silent, his words as jumbled and confused as his emotions.
 Ben nodded thoughtfully. "Joe go have lunch with your aunt and uncle. I'll meet you back here later this afternoon and we can discuss what you will do next."

Joe opened his mouth to argue, but subsided without a word. He had wanted to be able to promise them he would visit their plantation, but he realized his father needed more time to think. Plus they would have to decide how long they could be away from the Ponderosa for the visit.

Two hours later Joe found himself descending from his hansom cab in the heart of the French Quarter. He gazed around, charmed at the sights and sounds that met his eyes. The houses were all close together, with brightly painted shutters and awnings. He saw a small bakery on the corner and stopped to peer in at the delicate pastries. How Hoss would have devastated that bakery if he were here.

Joe followed the directions he had been given and soon found himself standing in front of a whitewashed town house, with bright blue shutters and window boxes crowded with pink, blue, purple and yellow flowers. He clanged the large metal doorknocker and waited patiently. He heard a pair of heavy footsteps approaching the door and it swung open to reveal a tall black woman with a broad smiling face. The woman looked Joe up and down, quickly focusing on his face. Suddenly her face split in a broad grin and she opened her arms to embrace him. Joe felt himself enveloped in her warm embrace, momentarily startled.

"Lordy, if you ain't the spitting image of your mama boy. I'd a knowed you anywhere. You come right on here now." The woman took Joe's arm and led him inside.

"You knew my mama, ma'am."

"Lordy son, I was your mama's nurse from the day she was born." The woman gestured for Joe to follow her down the hall. He quickly realized that the woman was much older than he had originally thought.
"Ma'am, I'm sorry I don't know your name."

"Child, you just call me Daisy, just like your mama used to." She favored him with another wide smile and pushed open a pair of French doors leading into a small walled garden.

Joe paused and felt like he was entering heaven. A small pond was the focal point of the garden, filled with brightly colored fish and surrounded by trailing flowered covered vines. Small brightly colored flowering trees filled the yard, which was surrounded with a high white fence.

"Joseph, welcome to my home." Felicia crossed the stone patio, her arms held out to embrace Joe. Joe hugged her to him tightly, feeling a lump rising in his throat, her warm sweet smell filled his nostrils and he found himself remembering quite clearly being held on his own mother's lap as she brushed his hair and dressed him.

"Bonjour Aunt Felicia. Comment allez vous?" Joe asked.

"I am quite well Joseph. I see your father has taught you French."

"No, my brother Adam actually, but just a little. It all seemed familiar to me, so my mother must have spoken to me in French when I was a child. I don't remember really."
"How old were you when she died?" Felicia guided Joe to a large round table and they sat next to each other. Tall glasses of tea with tiny chunks of ice were ready for them. The table was covered with a fine linen cloth and covered with fine china.

"Just five years old ma'am."

"Do you remember her?"

"No, ma'am not really. Little fragments really. She was always singing and laughing. Most of what I know comes from Pa and my brothers."

"Perhaps I can help you learn more Joseph. I still have some of your mother's things at my home, Belle Mer. When your mother left the convent school to run off with her first husband, my father ordered all her things burned. Daisy was able to rescue a number of her things and get them to me. They are all stored in a trunk at my house. I would like you to have them."

Joe was overwhelmed. His mother's things. He could hardly breathe. "Thank you ma'am."

"Joseph, you don't need to keep calling ma'am. Call me Felicia, or Aunt Felicia if you like."

"Only if you will call me Joe. I'm only called Joseph when I'm in trouble, Aunt Felicia." Joe bestowed a brilliant smile on his aunt, literally taking her breath away as the resemblance to his mother became even more striking. Marie had always smiled at her in such a way when she had mischief afoot.
"Joe, what are you thinking about?" Felicia eyed him suspiciously but at that moment Francois came through the French doors.

"Bonjour Joseph, Felicia. How are you both on this beautiful day?

The three sat and talked over a long leisurely lunch. Joe entertained his aunt and uncle with more tales of his life on the Ponderosa.

"Joe, what do you think of coming to visit us?" Felicia inquired as they lingered over their coffee and dessert.

"Aunt Felicia, I would love to come, but my father and I are expected home in three weeks. And Pa still has a week's worth of business to conduct. We can't travel back much later than October, with the weather in the mountains so uncertain. How far is it to the plantation?"

Felicia frowned thoughtfully, "it is a good two days ride Joe. You would no more than arrive then have to turn around to come back to New Orleans." Brother and sister exchanged a long look, as both were struck with a thought. Felicia nodded to Francois.

"Joe, Felicia and I spoke this morning about this very thing. What would you say to coming to Rivieux Rouge with us in two weeks and spending the winter. You could return to the Ponderosa in the spring?"

Joe was stunned. "You mean be away from the Ponderosa all winter?"

"Yes Joe, you've told us that not much is done outdoors during the winter. Your father and brothers could handle the ranch. It would give you time for a good long visit, get to know the family, and give all of us time to get to know you." Francois relaxed back in his chair. Joe was not protesting, in fact Francois could see that the idea was appealing to him.
"I'll have to discuss it with Pa." Joe discovered that he desperately wanted to do this, to visit his mother's girlhood home, to get to know these people who seemed so familiar to him. He had not had a moment's discomfort so far with his aunt and uncle and he wanted to get to know them better.

The three continued to chat through the afternoon, gradually fleshing out their plans. Francois gave Joe a photograph of his three children. The clock in the house chimed five and Joe suddenly sprang to his feet. "I have to go, I'm supposed to be meeting Pa at the hotel right now." Joe quickly hugged his aunt and uncle and fled the house.

Back at the hotel Ben paced impatiently in his suite. He cursed Joe's chronic lateness while at the same time worrying that his son was being seduced away from him by the DesVries. He would have to decide soon what to do about this visit. He supposed he and Joe could stay an extra week. He admitted to some curiosity about seeing Marie's childhood home after all these years.

Joe raced into the suite at half past five, and panting profusely apologized to his father. "I'm really sorry Pa, we got to talking and well I just lost track of the time."

Ben eyed his son. Joe was hiding something from him, he could tell by the look on his face and the way he shifted his feet, keeping his eyes everywhere but on his father's face.

"Joe, get washed up so we can get to dinner. We're eating at a restaurant down at the waterfront. It's where your mother and I ate the first time we went to supper together." Ben smiled as Joe's face lit up.

"Really Pa? Is the restaurant still there?"

"Yes Joe, I checked this afternoon after I finished my meetings."
"I'll be ready in two shakes Pa."

As the two men sat enjoying the view of the harbor front on the deck of the restaurant Joe gathered his courage to ask his father about the visit to the plantation. "Pa, I spoke with Francois and Felicia today. About, about my visiting them." Joe stopped and waited.

Ben nodded and waited for Joe to finish.

"Pa, they've asked me to come visit them and stay," Joe swallowed hard, "for the whole winter."

Ben paled, "The whole winter, Joe. Son that would mean you wouldn't be able to get home till April. That's almost seven months from now. Is this what you want Joe?" Ben couldn't believe what he was hearing. His worst fears were being realized.

"Pa, I know it isn't what we had planned. I know it's going to be hard. But, it's two days from here to the plantation. There isn't enough for you to do your business and us to go there and back." Joe stopped for a moment and stared up towards the full moon shining over their heads. "Pa, I know it will be hard for you, it's hard for me too. But, I want to do this. For myself yes, but also for mama's family. All these years they hoped to find me. I want to get to know them. Here, look at this, Felicia gave it to me." Joe reached in his pocket and drew out the photograph Felicia had given him.

Ben held it up to the light. The picture showed three young people, a boy of five, and two older children. Ben gasped, the oldest boy was the spitting image of Joe, same curly hair and dimpled cheeks. The smaller child was also a twin for Joe at the same age. Ben paused for a moment. He could see what the attraction was for Joe. "Are these your cousins?"

"Yes Pa." Joe's voice was soft.
"Joe," Ben stopped. It would break his heart to leave Joe here in New Orleans. There was every chance that once Joe settled in with these people he wasn't going to want to leave again. But he had learned long ago that he couldn't fence his sons in. Ben couldn't bring himself to speak.

Joe suddenly burst out, "Pa, I want to go to Rivieux Rouge. I want to meet my cousins and see where my ma grew up. Please Pa, I need to do this. I need to know who I am, where my people came from. Hoss has met his uncle and Adam knows all his folks back in Boston. Joe sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "You won't need me over the winter at the ranch. I'll return in the spring. Please Pa." Joe's eyes pleaded for Ben's understanding.

Ben knew that Joe was an adult, that he had the right to make his own decisions. He couldn't really forbid him to do this, forcing him to return home would only make Joe resentful. Ben moved to the edge of the deck and stared at the water, mindful of his son's gaze firmly fixed on his back. Ben turned to Joe and looked at his youngest son. "All right, all right Joe, you can stay." He saw a grin beginning on Joe's face, "But one thing Joseph," he said sternly. "You had better write us every week. No excuses now. And I want to see you first thing come spring. Is that understood?" Ben looked at Joe sternly, then smiled warmly at his son.

"Oh Pa," Said Joe. "Yes, oh yes!" Joe got up and went to his father and gave him a quick hug.

The next ten days flew by. Ben kept Joe with him most of the time, showing him many of the places in New Orleans he and Joe's mother had seen together. One day he and Francois took Joe to see Francois' tailor. Joe had not brought along enough clothes to last him through the winter and Ben quickly recognized that many of Joe's clothes were not appropriate for the heat of the Louisiana climate. He also knew that Joe would be moving among many wealthy people and he wanted Joe to fit in. He winced slightly at the prices for the new clothes, but by day's end Joe had a new wardrobe.

Finally the day for Ben's departure approached. Francois and Felicia picked up Ben and Joe at the hotel, loading Joe's luggage onto the back of the wagon. After Ben's stage departed they would be leaving for the plantation. At the stage platform Francois and Felicia bid Ben a warm farewell. Ben had grown to like the two of them. As Felicia hugged him she quickly whispered, "Fear not my friend, I will care for Joe just as Marie would have. He will be safe with us." Of one accord the two moved off, leaving father and son to say farewell in private.

Joe stood awkwardly next to his father. He had been excited all week, anticipating his trip with his aunt and uncle. The reality of his father's departure had struck him that morning as he helped his father with their luggage. He could feel tears rising in his eyes, he wanted to fling himself on his father and beg him not to leave him behind. "Pa," Joe's voice was choked with emotions.
Ben turned and pulled his son into his warm embrace. He could feel his own tears stinging in his eyes and he held his son firmly. Finally as the driver called to Ben he pushed Joe away from him and scrutinized his son's face. "Joe I'm proud of you and I love you. I know you'll enjoy your time here, you just make sure to write and we'll see you in early spring."

Joe nodded and in a choked voice answered, "I love you too Pa." He hugged his father one more time. Then as Ben climbed onto the stage Francois and Felicia came to Joe's side and put their arms around him. As the stage pulled away Ben put his head and arm out to wave a final farewell to his son, but as he looked back he saw that Joe had turned away and was going off arm and arm with his aunt and uncle.

Eight days later Hoss and Adam stood at the Virginia City stage depot waiting for the father and brother.

"Hope Pa and Joe enjoyed their trip Adam. Can't wait till Joe gets back so we can leave on our Annual hunting trip. You want to come this year Adam?" Hoss always asked Adam to come on his Annual two-week trip with Joe into the mountains. He and Joe loved spending some time in the open air, enjoying the clean clear fall weather before the long winter snows began. Adam never chose to come, preferring to spend his time taking care of business in neighboring towns, that he might not be able to make it to during the winter.

"You know Hoss, I've been thinking that I might just join you two this year. You had an awful lot of luck last year with those pelts you brought back." Adam smiled at his brother. "You don't think Joe would mind."

"Shucks Adam, Joe's always saying how's he wished you'd come. He'll be plum tickled." At the sound of the stage Hoss and Adam moved to the edge of the platform. The driver reined in the horses and the door swung open. An older man and woman climbed down and were handed their luggage. A moment later Ben appeared and got out of the stage.

"Hey Pa," both men exclaimed as they came over and embraced their father. Both turned expectantly to the coach's door, waiting to see their younger brother appear. Another gentleman climbed down and a moment later the door was shut.
"Pa, where's Joe?" Hoss's voice was full of disbelief. "He didn't get hurt did he?" The color drained from Hoss's face as a terrible thought struck him.

"No, Joe's fine. He, he didn't come back with me boys. He's staying in New Orleans." Ben had dreaded this moment. He knew that no matter how much his sons teased and complained about each other but there was no way this would lead to any good.

"What do you mean he's staying? Why?" Adam gritted his teeth, he could feel a shout of outrage building in his throat.

"While we were in New Orleans we met some of Joe's relatives. He has an aunt, an uncle, and a whole passel of cousins. They invited him to spend the winter with them. He wanted to stay."

"But Pa, he's staying for the whole winter. But what about Christmas Pa, Joe ain't never been away from us at Christmas?" Hoss was incredibly hurt. How could Joe not want to come home?

"Hoss, Adam, if you had seen these people you would understand. Here, I brought this picture to show you." Ben pulled out the picture Joe had given him of his cousins. Hoss took the picture and Adam joined him in studying it. Their mouths dropped open at the remarkable resemblance Joe's cousins bore him.

"Pa, what if he decides never to come back." Hoss looked up at his father.

Ben simply shook his head, he couldn't answer his son's question.
 

Louisiana shimmered in the hot afternoon sun and Joe wished for the hundredth time this afternoon for a cool mountain breeze off the Sierras. The humidity in the coach was oppressive, and Joe really wasn't used to this kind of heat.

"Is it always this hot?" Joe asked his aunt, who was fanning herself daintily.

"No, winters here are quite pleasant, it's just the summers. Most of us stay out of New Orleans in the summer. Too many cases of fever and malaria. And unbearably hot even for us. If not for Francois' business, we would not even have been there ourselves. But I'm glad we were". She gave Joe a smile."

Joe watched the lush green countryside roll by, his thoughts racing ahead to the plantation, and of his cousins. What would they be like? Would they think him an unsophisticated farmer? Would he fit in with them? An unfamiliar feeling gnawed at the pit of his stomach. He had never before felt like he would not fit in anywhere. He had lived only in one place, here he knew everyone and was one of the more popular young men in Virginia City. Joe felt his usual self-confidence ebbing away, and he chewed on his lip thoughtfully, a small scowl forming on his face as he slouched down in the seat and stretched out his long legs. He put his boots up on the seat opposite of him.

Felicia noticed Joe's expression with a touch of amusement. She wasn't sure what he was thinking about but she did know he was not sitting like a gentleman. "Joseph... your feet." she said, casting a sidelong glance at them.

Joe rolled his eyes and sat up, letting his feet drop to the floor of the coach with a crash, awakening his uncle who had been sleeping on the seat next to him. Joe looked at his aunt and grinned. "It's like being with Pa", he said, laughing.

"Well, you obviously have not listened to him, have you Joseph? Felicia said, smiling. "It won't be too much longer. I know how impatient the young are".

A few minutes later the countryside changed from dense vegetation, to acres of rich looking tilled farmland. Joe could see rows and rows of plants topped with white, like a dusting of snow. "Is that cotton?" he asked, turning to his uncle.
"Yes, it is, Joe, it's our lifeblood, that plant. We also grow tobacco and sugar cane, but cotton is what keeps our plantations, and the whole South, going."

Joe could see dozens of workers in the fields. Some stood and looked at the carriage as they passed. None waved. "What are they doing?" he asked.

"The cotton is being picked now, to be baled and sold. Those field hands are picking the bolls and taking the seeds out."

The carriage turned abruptly up a long stone drive, shaded with live oak trees. Spanish moss hung from them, adding an aura of mystery. As the coach came to a halt, Joe opened the coach door and jumped out, turning to offer his assistance to his aunt and uncle. As he helped them down, Joe gaped at the house. He had never seen anything like it. It was dazzling white, three stories tall and fronted by six enormous white columns that thrust toward the sky. A fountain splashed in a pond in the courtyard and flowers bloomed around it. He stood staring until his aunt said to the driver "you will please put our luggage in the foyer".

Joe quickly said "Hey, that's all right, I'll get it for you". He stepped up on the coach and reached for the suitcases and was met by the face of the driver, who gave him a hard stare. He felt a tug on his coat tails and turned. Francois was gesturing to Joe to get down off the coach. He jumped to the ground. "Joseph, that is his job, to get our luggage." Francois said. "You will please let him do it". Joe was a bit mystified, but shrugged his shoulders.

Any further reflection on the situation was dashed from Joe's mind by the arrival of a shouting little boy. "Papa., Papa!!" the little boy squealed. "And Aunt Felicia!" he called. He threw his little arms about his father's legs.

"Jacques, Jacques, I want you to meet someone" his father said, bending down and attempting to loosen the child's grip. "Look, here is your cousin, all the way from the West. You know, where there are cowboys and Indians..."
At this the little boy turned to look at Joe. He was an adorable child, small and quick, with brown curly hair and hazel eyes. He smiled at Joe and said "You a cowboy?" and laughed, the dimples in his cheeks deepening.

Joe grinned, "well, yeah I am pardner" he drawled, deliberately exaggerating his western accent.

"Can you shoot a gun? Have you seen any Indians? You don't look like a cowboy" Jacques asked, his eyes getting big.

"Jacques, you go inside and tell your mama that we are here, alright?" said Francois. "Joe, Felicia, let's go inside. I am quite tired and dusty after that long journey".

Joe followed his aunt and uncle up the steps of the house and inside. In spite of his new clothes he felt woefully inelegant in these surroundings. They were standing in a center hall and all around him, Joe observed the incredible beauty of the house. In front of them was a graceful, curved staircase covered in thick red carpeting. To the right, Joe could see some sort of parlor with elegant brocaded furniture, oriental carpets and crystal chandeliers.

He couldn't believe it—this was the house his mother had grown up in? He had no idea she came from such a fine place, such elegant surroundings. Still, he was thrilled to be in her childhood home and couldn't wait to see more of it.

A pale, thin woman was seated on one of the ornate chairs in the parlor, and she rose to greet them. She walked toward them murmuring her greetings. "Bonjour, Felicia, Francois" She gave her husband a peck on the cheek. He grasped her hands and said excitedly in French "Charlotte, you will never guess who this is"

"No Francois, and I do not like guessing games, so please tell me" Charlotte surveyed Joe coolly.

Although the conversation was being spoken in French, Joe was not having much difficulty following it. He stepped forward and said "Madame, I am Joseph Cartwright" and smiled at her. She did not return the smile, but simply stared at Joe.

Francois said excitedly "He is my sister Marie's boy, the one I have been looking for all these years."

"Hmph." Charlotte again turned her gray eyes on Joe. "Where did you find him?" She spoke as if Joe was a stray dog that Francois brought home.
As Francois related the story in rapid French, Charlotte continued to stare at Joe. He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, realizing that she was not altogether pleased with his presence, but not understanding why.

At that moment, the door to the parlor opened and a beautiful girl entered the room. Joe turned and couldn't help smiling at her. She smiled back at him and said in French "my name is Sylvie, and you are..."

"Joe, um Joseph Cartwright, ma'am". Joe said. He looked at her appreciatively. Sylvie had long dark curls, big hazel green eyes and an infectious smile. She stood just to his shoulders.

"Sylvie, Joe is your cousin, he is here from Nevada", said Felicia, joining the two. She had noticed Charlotte's cool reaction to Joe, and she was sure Joe had noticed it as well. She was anxious to smooth things over. "Joe is your father's youngest sister's boy."

"Oh, my cousin... why that is too bad" Sylvie said, with a coy look.

"It is?" Joe said, bewildered.

"Yes," Sylvie giggled, "things might have been much more interesting if you weren't!" Joe raised his eyebrows and gave her a sly smile.

"Where is Phillipe?" Felicia asked Sylvie.

"He is outside, doing something with the horses" she answered vaguely. Sylvie grabbed Joe's hand "Come, she said, "let's see if we can find him". Joe followed Sylvie out the door, not feeling he had much choice in the matter, but glad to be away from the cold looks of his Aunt Charlotte. Sylvie led him down a path to the stables, chattering excitedly as she went. Her French was very fast and Joe had to pay close attention to what she was saying. She was asking him if he rode horses often and said they were all crazy about horses and rode well. Joe grinned at Sylvie and said, "I was practically born on a horse. My family has a ranch and I run the horse operation—I break them and train them".

"Well, good," said Sylvie. "I was afraid you wouldn't be much for horses and then I don't know what you would do for fun here. We'll have to find a horse for you to ride tomorrow." She opened the barn door and looked inside for her brother.

"Phillipe!" she called. "Where are you? We have a guest!"

A slender young man stepped out of the shadows. "I am here, Sylvie. Stop all your shouting, you will scare the horses!" The young man took note of Joe and said "do I know you—you look...familiar."

Sylvie laughed and looked back and forth between her brother and Joe. "No wonder he looks familiar... you two could almost be twins!" The resemblance between Joe and Phillipe was striking indeed. Both had the same eyes, smile and curly hair, though Phillipe's was considerably longer than Joe's. Joe was an inch taller than Phillipe and a good deal more solid. Philippe didn't look as if he had spent much of his life doing physical labor. He reached forward and took Joe's outstretched hand and shook it firmly.

Sylvie said, "Joe is our cousin, Philippe. He is papa's sister's son... he is a cowboy and lives on a ranch! Joe, this is my brother Phillipe—he is twenty years old and thinks he knows just everything!" Sylvie wrinkled her nose at her brother, but her eyes showed the great affection she had for him.

Joe stood with his hands stuck into the back of his belt, looking a bit uncertainly at his cousins. "Sylvie says you have some fine horses, Phillipe. Can I see them?" The cousins moved off into the barn and Phillipe proudly showed Joe their horses. They were of a different type then Joe was used to, finer, thinner and high-strung. They were thoroughbreds. Joe mostly rode wild mustangs and quarter horses, both short muscular working horses, bred for the tough life and harsh conditions they lived in. The cousins chatted easily about horses and riding. Joe noticed that the saddles in the tackroom were of the smaller English style, which he had used only once, in a horse race. He had thought it a ridiculous little thing, but he guessed he could get used to it.
 Inside the house, the conversation was not nearly so easy. After the young people had left the house, Charlotte had whirled upon Francois and Felicia.

"What do you mean by bringing that boy here?" she hissed. "Francois, you know what your father thought of his mother... he will bring nothing but shame upon this family. I won't have him here!" Charlotte's eyes flashed angrily.

"You forget, Charlotte, that his mother is my sister! I met his father—he is a decent and fine man, and he has raised his son the same way." Francois snapped. "He is my flesh and blood and you will treat him accordingly". "No one has spoken of his mother for years", Charlotte snapped. "The neighbors will gossip and Sylvie... what will her fiance's family think? Everything could be ruined." Charlotte turned and left the room, her silk skirts rustling as if in disapproval of the entire situation.

 Joe relaxed in the big copper tub filled to the top with hot water and suds. He inhaled deeply and smelled the fresh fragrance of soap and his own cologne, which the maid had added to his bath water. He let his thoughts drift. I could get used to this, he thought, grinning to himself. He was more than a little overwhelmed by the wealth he saw around him here. While the Cartwrights were considered a well off family in the west, their wealth was all in their land. Their house, while large, was not at all fancy and was in fact rather rustic. They did not live a lavish lifestyle or wear fancy clothes, though Joe had often been of the opinion that his father could certainly afford to hire more hands to do the ranch work so that Joe would be able to pursue his favorite pastimes: gambling and chasing girls.
He was startled by a knock on the door and sat up suddenly. "Supper in 15 minutes, sir" came a female voice. Joe heard her footsteps move away from the door.

"Um, wait, don't go yet!" called Joe. "Do they dress for dinner here?"

He thought he heard a snort of laughter behind the door. "Yes sir, they do, clothes is a good idea!"

Joe laughed, then sobered suddenly at the thought of a long formal table where he would have to put on his best manners. And he also was not thrilled at the prospect of sitting at the table with his Aunt Charlotte. He had felt very strongly that she did not approve of him being here and it made him uncomfortable. What could she possibly have against him?

Joe got out of the bathtub and dried himself off with the thick towels that were left for him. Wrapping it around his waist, he proceeded to shave, and as he did, he noted the similarities between the face in the mirror and those of his cousins. He reflected once again on how much like him they were. They were emotional and spirited, not reserved and quiet like his father and oldest brother. Sometimes he felt like he had never quite fit in his own family, because he was so physically and emotionally different from his father and brothers.
 Joe dressed carefully, choosing a white silk shirt and burgundy satin vest to go with his black pants. He checked himself out in the mirror before going downstairs. "Not too bad, Joe" he said to the mirror, giving his hair a final comb. He was impressed with his new clothes, he had never had any as fine as this. As he stepped out in the hall, he almost ran into an attractive young woman who was carrying a large stack of towels. As she tried to avoid Joe, she dropped them on the floor.

"Pardon me ma'am" Joe said, ducking his head.

"Oh no," said the girl, "it is my fault, I am sorry. I should not be in your way."

"Here, let me" Joe said, bending over to pick up the towels she had dropped. He began to refold them.

"No, no, you should not do that! Please..." she looked at Joe, her large brown eyes pleading as she grabbed the towels from him.

"Hey" he said, "I knocked em over, I can pick em up" He handed her the towels and grinned at her. "Who are you? I don't think we've met. I'm Joe, Joe Cartwright."

"My name is Claire, monsieur, but I am no one. Please..." she turned and hurried off.

Joe stared after her. What a strange girl, he thought. She must be some sort of servant here, but she seemed afraid of him. He shook his head. He realized he had a lot to learn about this whole new lifestyle here.
 

 Dear Pa, Hoss and Adam:

As I promised you Pa, here is my first letter. My first week here has been quite exciting and tonight we are going to be having a ball here at the house to celebrate the engagement of my cousin Sylvie to Paul Beauregard. His plantation is up on Lake Maurepas and is called Tezcuco. He will be arriving later this morning.

Everyone has been bustling around all week getting ready. My first night here we had dinner in a dining room, the likes of which I have never seen. The table was an enormous oak table covered with a beautiful linen tablecloth that Aunt Felicia told me had been in our family since the original French settlement of Louisiana. Dinner lasted for hours and had many courses, more than I ever would have thought possible. Hoss would have been extremely happy. And they eat this way every night!

My cousins have been most welcoming. Sylvie is eighteen and spends most of her days preparing for her wedding, which will be sometime before Christmas. She is working on her trousseau, which seems to be quite an operation. My cousin Phillipe is twenty and I have spent most of my time here together working on his horse breeding. Everyone here does nothing but comment on how alike we are, Uncle Francois has promised to take have the photographer who will be coming to the ball do a portrait for us to send to you so you can see it. Of course Jacques, who is only 5, is insisting that he be in the picture too.

Aunt Felicia has promised that once the ball is over we will travel to Belle Mer to visit and she will be giving me some of my mother's things from her girlhood. I can hardly wait.

Uncle Francois has been a wonderful host. We've done nothing but ride and tour the neighboring countryside and the plantation. I am starting to learn quite a bit about raising cotton, sugar cane and tobacco. The cotton is currently being harvested. His wife Charlotte spends most of her time planning the ball.

I hope all is well with all of you.

Love

Joe
Joe finished his letter with a flourish. He stared down at it, thinking of the many things he had not told his father and brothers. He missed them very much, but did not want them to worry. He placed the letter carefully into the envelope and addressed it carefully.

Joe emerged from his bedroom and walked downstairs. "Good morning Jasper". Joe saluted the tall butler who stood patiently in the front hall.

"Morning Master Joseph." Jasper smiled broadly at Joe, who had rapidly endeared himself to the many household servants. His unfailing politeness and cheerfulness echoed that of his three cousins. The staff was far more wary of Miss Charlotte who ruled with an iron fist.

"Jasper, I would like to ride to town to post a letter, how far is it?" Joe was still a bit uncertain of the local geography.

"Bout two miles down the main road to Pleasant Hill. But Mr. Joseph, we can take care of the post for you. And you ain't had no breakfast yet."

"That's all right Jasper, I need a ride. And to be honest y'all just eat a bit too much for my taste down here." Joe patted his stomach, three large meals a day and less exercise than he was used to was making him feel a bit sluggish. A good brisk ride was just what he needed.

"Yes suh." Jasper quickly gave Joe detailed directions. Joe thanked him and moved to the barn. He quickly saddled up his favorite mount, Le Conte, and led him from the stable. As he prepared to mount up tiny Jacques ran up to Joe.

"Joe, Joe, where are you going? May I come too? Please." Joe smiled down at his little cousin. He was suddenly struck with a long hidden memory of himself making this same plea to his brothers. He had noticed that Jacques spent much of his day with his nursemaid, May, and not much time with his brother or father. Joe could not imagine what his own childhood would have been like without his father or brothers.
 "Well Jacques, I'm going to ride into Pleasant Hill to mail a letter. Would you like to ride with me? I'll hold you on in front of me if you want." Jacques face split into a delighted grin.

"I'll tell May. You wait right here." While Joe watched Jacques ran towards the house calling for May. He told her the plan and she frowned but nodded finally. "All ready Joe."

Joe picked up Jacques and settled him on his horse, then in one easy leap got into the saddle. The two moved off together in a gentle trot. Joe had quickly become accustomed to this new way of riding, though he missed Cochise and the wide-open plains around the Ponderosa.

Jacques chattered happily, pointing out to Joe his favorite fishing spot, "I'm the best fisherman in the whole family". Joe suppressed a smile, he had made a similar boast to his own family.

"I love to fish Jacques, maybe we can go together." Joe smiled at the squeal of delight from the small boy in front of him. Joe's eyes continuously scanned the passing scenery, taking in the sight of many men continuing to pick cotton in the fields. He had grown almost accustomed to this even as he had come to realize that these men were in fact slaves owned by his aunt and uncle.

When the two road into Pleasant Hill, Joe was amazed to see a town of about half the size of Virginia City. He couldn't see any saloon, just many restaurants and small stores. The buildings were all clean and tidy, painted carefully. Flowering trees were everywhere. It couldn't have been more different from the rough and tumble of Virginia City. He reined in his horse in front of the General Store, where Jasper had told him the letter could be posted.

"Come on Jacques, let's mail my letter and I'll buy you some candy." The two entered the store hand in hand. The man behind the counter glanced up and smiled a welcome.
 "Phillipe, good to see you my young friend."

Joe began to reply but Jacques interrupted him, "No, no, Mr. Jackson, this is my cousin Joseph, he's a cowboy from Nevada territory."

Jackson took another look into Joe's face and smiled a somewhat dubious smile. "Really?"

"Yes sir, Joseph Cartwright's my name." Joe held out his hand and shook Mr. Jackson's. "I have a letter to post and my young cousin is shopping for some sweetning."

Jackson waited on the two and they turned to leave the store. As they left hand in hand, the door swung open, nearly knocking over Jacques. A petite and beautiful young woman walked in the door, making Joe take a quick step back out of her way. She was very petite, little more than five feet tall. She had the tiniest waist that Joe had ever seen, accented by a tightly corseted green satin dress. She had creamy pale skin and dark brown hair, carefully curled and dressed. Her eyes as they turned to him were a deep violet blue and Joe felt his pulse increase as she looked at him. To his astonishment she broke into a broad smile and flung herself into Joe's arms, planting a passionate kiss on his lips.

She stepped back in a moment with a look of surprise on her face, "Phillipe, are you not happy to see me," She had a sweet southern drawl, without the French accent he was accustomed to hearing from his cousins.

"That's cuz he ain't Phillipe, Sarabeth. This is my cousin Joe, he's a cowboy."

Joe raised his hat and gave her a deep bow, "Ma'am, it's my pleasure. Joseph Cartwright at your service," Joe instinctively deepened his western twang, sounding more like Roy Coffee than himself.
 Sarabeth blushed a deep rose, and began to fan herself with her delicate lace fan. "I'm charmed suh." She held her hand out and Joe took it and kissed it gently.

"I take it ma'am you are acquainted with my cousin Phillipe?" Joe inquired, gently arching his eyebrow at her.

She graced him with a gentle smile. "Yes I am. My name is Sarabeth Kenner. My papa owns the plantation next to yours, Magnolia Mound. I hope you'll come calling on us soon. Of course we will be seeing you at the ball tonight."

"I look forward to it." Joe graced her with his most charming and polished bow and smile.

Sarabeth fluttered her eyelashes at him and moved into the store.

Joe and Jacques mounted up for their return to the plantation. Joe tried to pump Jacques for information but Jacques was not conversant in the Kenner family, as they had no children his own age.

Later that evening Joe found himself coming down from his room, feeling slightly self-conscious. When he had gone to his room that afternoon his Uncle Francois had accompanied him. "Joe, I have a gift for you."

"Yes sir." Joe smiled fondly at his uncle. His uncle was a man of business who spent much of his day in meetings in his office on the plantation. He spent little time in the fields.

"I hope you don't mind Joe, but I had my tailor make this for you while he was preparing your other clothes."
 He led Joe into his room and there hanging on the clothing rack was a beautiful formal evening suit. It was a deep charcoal gray. An elegant ruffled crisp white silk shirt with a black cummerbund and a rakish black tie was nearby. Elegant evening shoes completed the outfit. The suit was obviously very expensive, the best he had ever owned. Joe's face was rapturous, he spun to face his uncle, "Oh thank you Uncle Francois" and embraced him.

"You are most welcome Joe. I hope you enjoy the ball. It is your first formal ball is it not?" Joe nodded and his face took on a slightly hesitant look.

"Joe, you'll do just fine. I assume you know how to dance."

Joe nodded, "Yes sir, I know how to waltz and do a few of the country dances."

Francois smiled, "You'll be just fine. Just stick with Phillipe and I, we'll make sure to introduce you to some nice young ladies who I'm sure will be happy to take care of you."

Joe smiled, he felt relieved.

Hours later Joe made his was down the grand staircase into the main hallway of the house. Below him was a sea of beautifully dressed women in elegant silk gowns in a multitude of colors and hues. The men were all formally dressed. Joe stopped and took it all in, his breath was taken away. He felt a strong urge to flee back up the stairs.

"Joe, Joe, I've been waiting for you." Sylvie ran up the stairs lightly and gripped Joe's arm. "Come you must meet Paul and his brother Duncan." Keeping her grip tight on Joe's arm she lead him down the stairs. "Here they are, Paul, Duncan, this is my cousin Joe, he's a real cowboy. This is Paul Beauregard and his brother Duncan."
Joe shook hands with the two men. Paul was a tall quiet man, his visage somber. Duncan was a creature of light, his hair a blazing strawberry blond, his face lit from within. Joe immediately took a shine to Duncan and found himself within minutes feeling as if he'd known Duncan all his life. The three men stood talking cordially about the weather and the ball. Both of the Beauregard brothers were fascinated by Joe's life in Nevada and he found himself answering many questions about the Ponderosa. Paul was mostly interested in the business side of the operation, while Duncan was curious about the cowboy life. Joe found himself at one point looking down at Sylvie's face. Her face was relatively blank, but her eyes were shining. He followed the direction of her gaze and was surprised to see she was watching Duncan, not Paul. For a moment a question hovered on his lips, but he bit it back.

"Sylvie, it is time for us to go find your mother and father and my parents. They are preparing to open the formal dancing, and we are the lead dancers." Paul took Sylvie's arm and led her away. Joe found himself following them with his eyes, and when he turned back to Duncan he was shocked to see a look of pain on his face.

"Duncan, are you all right?" Joe whispered as he grasped Duncan's arm.

Duncan smiled at Joe sadly, "You have guessed my secret my friend, I can see it. Please say nothing, there is nothing to be done. He is my brother." Duncan turned and walked away.

Joe was confused, why was Sylvie marrying a man she clearly did not love? He resolved to pursue this and turned back to search the crowd for his uncle. He was surprised to see Sarabeth Kenner walking towards him. She came to a stop immediately in front of him and held out her hand, "Mr. Cartwright I presume."

Joe took her hand and kissed it, lingering a bit than he had earlier that day. "Ma'am, it's my pleasure." She smiled and arched an eyebrow at him. She began to speak when they were interrupted by a small clanging sound. They turned to see Joe's aunt and uncle, Sylvie and Paul, and another couple standing on the stairs above the crowd. "Friends, friends, I'm glad you were all able to join us this evening. I would like to welcome you all to my house. We celebrate two very special occasions this evening. The first is the engagement of my daughter Sylvie and her fiancee Mr. Paul Beauregard." The couple stepped forward to the applause and Paul bent to gently kiss Sylvie on the cheek. "I would also like to welcome my nephew Joseph Cartwright who has come to visit us from Nevada Territory. We are glad to welcome to our family, we have missed him very much." Joe found himself moving forward to stand next to his uncle. Joe couldn't help but notice that his Aunt Charlotte compressed her lips firmly together, obviously displeased at the attention Joe was receiving on this, her daughter's night.

"Now my friends, Paul and Sylvie will lead us in the first dance of the evening." Everyone opened a passage for Paul and Sylvie to lead everyone into the grand ballroom. As the band began Paul and Sylvie began to dance a beautiful waltz. Joe could not help but admit that they made an attractive couple, but they lacked the fire and passion, the enthusiasm that he was used to seeing when people in love danced.

After the dance was over another song was struck up. Joe suddenly found himself surrounded by pretty girls asking him to dance. He spent the bulk of the evening dancing. He even managed to steal Sarabeth away from Phillipe for several dances. He finished dancing with Sylvie, a lively and entertaining romp, and he decided to steal outside onto the veranda to cool off for a few minutes. As he moved outside he came upon two women speaking softly in the shadows. He eased back behind a column and as he moved away he paused when he heard his own name spoken.

"So how long is this cousin Joseph staying?"

"Francois says for the winter."

"Has he been a problem?"
"No, in fact he's been quite well behaved. I was surprised given what I've heard about his mother. I was expecting more trouble."

As Joe strained to hear more the two women walked away and as they stepped into the light from the ballroom Joe recognized the one woman as his Aunt Charlotte. What did she mean about his mother being trouble? Joe frowned thoughtfully. He would have to pursue this with his Aunt Felicia when they left for her plantation early next week.

He frowned thoughtfully, Joe was certainly getting exposed to a different side of life. Ben tried to shrug off his worries, he had raised Joe with strong values. He just hoped Joe was not seduced by all that wealth. He shrugged and put the letter away for Hoss and Adam to read when they got back from their hunting trip.
 

 Virginia City,15 September

Dear Joe

Hope this letter finds you well and enjoying your trip. I'm sure it has been a big adjustment for you, I know the life must be very different than what you are used to here.

The weather has already turned very cold here—it is going to be an early winter. It has given us some extra time though, to enjoy the fall. Last week, we went to the harvest dinner in town—there was an orchestra and dancing, though no doubt not as fine as the dances you are probably attending. Kate Jurgens was there. She was quite the hit of the dance. She did ask about you, wondered if we had heard from you and what you were doing. I didn't tell her that you are probably finding plenty of female companionship in New Orleans. I hear those French girls are really something else.

Hoss invited me to go hunting with him since you weren't here—we had a wonderful trip. The weather was beautiful and game plentiful. It was nice to be able to finally go with him. Hoss said it was a whole lot quieter, too.

I'm sure you are wondering about Cochise. He is frisky and restless because he needs some work. I was able to get on him for a short time today. I was very surprised, since no one but you is usually able to ride him. Anyway, Hoss and I are taking good care of him for you.

Pa and Hoss say hello. Write soon,

Adam

 Joe's hand shook a little as he held the letter. Adam's letter was very cordial, why did it feel like he had just been kicked in the stomach? He reread it and realized that while Adam was filling him in on the events at home, there was not one word that signified that his family missed him. On the contrary, it looked like life had gone on just fine without him. Adam had even gone on the Annual hunting trip Joe and Hoss always took every fall. Joe bit his lip and scowled. He had asked Adam several times if he wanted to go along, but Adam had always said no, preferring to seek out city comforts. But now Joe wondered if that was the real reason. It sounded like Adam was more than happy to go hunting with Hoss, as long as his kid brother wasn't along.

Joe flopped back on the bed and sighed. He wondered why he and Adam had such a hard time getting along. He didn't think Adam disliked him so much that he would avoid going on a trip if he was along, but maybe he did.

Joe rolled over on his stomach and stretched out on the bed. Everyone in the house was napping in the heat of the day. The ball last night had kept everyone up late, and fatigue was evident on everyone's face at lunch. Joe felt depressed and out of sorts, but there was no one around he could talk to. He was hot and sticky and wondered irritably when it would ever cool off here. He sat up and stripped to his drawers, then splashed some water on his face from the washstand. He felt a little more revived and wandered over to the window. He squinted in the bright sunlight and looked out over the fields of cotton, seeing it as if for the first time. He could see the many field hands, working hard in the blazing sun, picking cotton from endless rows.

It occurred to Joe that at the Ponderosa, his father never asked anyone to do a chore he wouldn't do himself. All of the Cartwrights worked as hard as the hands, harder maybe. How many times had he wished that he could lie in bed in the morning while a ranch hand did his chores? But his father had never permitted that. He told Joe that this was his place, that he must work to keep it, and that no one else would ever care as much about the land as those who owned it. He sighed again and turned back to the bed, dropping himself on it. He lay on his back and stared at the ceiling, his arms behind his head, thinking of Adam's letter again. He wondered if his family missed him at all. It sounded like Hoss had enjoyed his hunting trip even more than usual, with Adam along, instead of his noisy little brother. Even Cochise didn't miss him, Joe thought sadly. After ruminating on the letter for a while longer, Joe finally drifted off into a restless sleep.

An hour later he was awakened by a soft noise.
"Oh, excuse me Monsieur Joseph, I am so sorry, I was bringing you fresh water... I did not knock loud enough." Claire ducked her head and looked at the floor.

"Hey, that's ok," said Joe sleepily and he smiled at Claire. "Come in!" He suddenly realized he wasn't really dressed and yanked the bedspread up over his legs. He grinned at her. "Now it's my turn to apologize" he said, blushing a bit.

Claire gave him a faint smile and hurried towards the washstand with her pitcher of water. She filled the basin and turned to leave.

"Wait," Joe said, "don't leave." He saw her back stiffen as she paused.

"Yes, suh?" she said. "Is there something else?"

"Uh, yeah", said Joe. "What's the rush?"

Claire studiously avoided looking at Joe. "Because... because that's the way of it. It ain't my place to be talkin' to you."

"What do you mean?" asked Joe, his eyes questioning. "Hey, I'm kinda lonely here, and..."

Claire tensed her hands into fists, and turned away from Joe, her shoulders shaking. She dropped the pitcher with a crash and it shattered on the floor. She cried out then ran from the room.
Joe sat staring after her in disbelief. What had he said? He got up from the bed and silently began picking up the broken shards of the pitcher from the floor. He dropped them in the wastebasket and then began to dress. He decided he would go down to the barn and look for Phillipe and if he didn't find him, he would go for a ride. He smiled to himself as he put on riding clothes. There sure were a lot of different outfits required here, Joe thought. He put on a white linen shirt that opened at the neck and a pair of snug tan riding pants. He had not bought any of the tall black riding boots like he had seen Phillipe wear, so he dug through his luggage until he found his own scuffed boots. They would have to do. Joe grinned at his reflection in the mirror. Oh, if his brothers could see him now, wouldn't they have fun teasing him. The girls at the dance last night appreciated his clothes though, he thought. His natural cheer somewhat restored, Joe left the house and headed for the stables.

He found Phillipe down at the paddock, trying to mount a young and skittish black colt. As Phillipe tried to get near him, and place his foot in the stirrup, the colt sidestepped, snorting and pawing the air.

"Hi, Joe," called Phillipe.

"Hey, looks like you are having a bit of trouble with the colt", Joe said, "been up on him yet?"

"Yeah" said Phillipe, "barely, and he dumped me in the dirt. He's a real devil."

"Mind if I have a try?" Joe asked.

"I don't know, Joe, he's a wild one..." Phillipe said.

"Ah come on, I've rode lots worse than him" said Joe. "Bring him over here". Joe climbed up the split rail fence and perched on the top rail. "Bring him up along side here, yeah, that's it, nice and easy..." Joe began speaking softly to the horse, whose ears were pinned flat against his head. From the top rail, Joe lowered himself into the saddle gently.
"OK, let him go! " Joe said. The horse took off across the paddock, bucking and twisting. Phillipe's heart went to his throat, then he watched amazed, as his younger cousin stuck on the angry horse. Joe was one with the horse, light but strong on the animal's back. The colt twisted and lunged around the enclosure, unable to shake his tenacious rider, and finally exhausted, it settled down to a canter, then a trot.

Joe rode the colt up to Phillipe, grinning. "Told ya."

"That was some riding, Joe! I've never seen anything like it!" Phillipe was clearly impressed with Joe's skills on horseback.

"Well, this damn little saddle sure didn't help." Joe said. "Or these short stirrups, I just can't get used to them." He swung his leg over and jumped to the ground.

"We usually don't ride our horses all at once like that—is that what you do with all your horses on the ranch? We get them used to us real slowly" Phillipe asked, as they led the colt back to the barn.

"We have to break so many, we can't do it all gradual. I've been breaking horses since I was twelve, been dumped lotsa times, but this is how we do it." Joe said. "Hey, how about going for a real ride? The only one I've taken since I've been here was with Jacques in the saddle with me, so I couldn't really put my horse through his paces. Let's see if your thoroughbreds are as fast as Ponderosa stock".

"Okay" said Phillipe, "It will give me a chance to show you some of Rivieux Rouge, too."

Joe and Phillipe saddled their mounts and raced off along the fields. They whooped and yelled as they raced, and Joe enjoyed the feeling of the air rushing into his face, the strength and speed of the mount under him. It was great to be on horseback again, he hadn't realized how much he missed it. They finally slowed their horses to a more sedate pace and as they rode, Phillipe talked about the plantation and cotton. Joe was interested to learn more about the business of running a plantation. It was actually quite similar to some of the ranch business, he thought. Phillipe was actually just starting to take a hand in running the plantation, as he had been away in New Orleans at school until this summer.

Joe sighed and said "I'm sorry for you, I can't imagine going to school until I was twenty."

"When did you leave school, Joe" Phillipe asked. "Didn't your father want you to go to a university?"
Joe rolled his eyes. "Well, he might have, but I sure didn't want to. I left school when I was almost sixteen, and that was three years too late as far as I was concerned."

As they rode to the edge of the field, they passed by a number of ramshackle buildings, which looked as if a strong wind would blow them into a pile of tinder. Small children played in the dirt, their clothes little better than rags.

Joe stared. Phillipe noticed Joe's reaction and said "This is the slave quarters."

Joe swallowed hard. "Your servants live here?" He asked quietly.

"Not servants, Joe, they are just field hands." Phillipe said casually. "Don't you have hands on the Ponderosa?"

"Yeah, yeah we do" said Joe, thinking of the neat bunkhouse most of them stayed in. Others had small houses on the ranch where they lived with their families. He didn't know what to say to Phillipe without offending him. So he said nothing and rode by. But the images stayed in his mind, he couldn't forget them.

He decided to change the subject and asked Phillipe about Claire. He told him of Claire's reaction to his request for companionship and conversation earlier in the afternoon.

Phillipe laughed. "Joe, I don't think she thought you wanted to um, just talk!"

Joe stared at Phillipe incredulously. "I never said anything else! God, Phillipe, I barely know her!"

"It doesn't matter, Joe... she is yours if you want her to be, you know. And she knows that too." Phillipe shrugged.

Joe felt color rush to his face and he snapped at his cousin "that was never my intention, Phillipe!"
 "Hey, Joe calm down, I thought you'd be pleased. She's a pretty girl, even if she is a slave." Phillipe said. "Hey, lots of men here have slave girls, even their wives know about it. Some of the kids here are related to some of the planters, I guess. It's just how it is, it's always been that way.".

Joe felt sick. No wonder Claire had been afraid of him. She thought he, she thought... Joe couldn't even imagine treating a woman that way. He knew he was kind of wild and fast, but he also knew he would never act so dishonorably and force himself on a woman who didn't want him.

He finished the rest of the ride in relative silence, and quickly unsaddled his horse. He wanted to go to the house and find Claire and apologize to her. He felt terribly about what had happened.

Phillipe, as if sensing what was on Joe's mind, grabbed his cousin's arm. "Joe... forget it. You can't get upset over this. It's how things are here. You can't change it. Leave it alone, okay? No good will come of it. Dinner will be ready soon, I suggest you get cleaned up for it."

Joe yanked his arm out of Phillipe's grip and scowled, his jaw set, his eyes showing the anger he felt. But he said "fine, Phillipe, fine if that's what you want." If Phillipe had known Joe better, he would have recognized that the stubborn set to Joe's jaw meant trouble.

Joe went up the back stairs, as he saw his Aunt Charlotte near the front stairs, and he just was not in the mood to encounter her. As he turned the corner at the top of the stairs he saw Claire, carrying a basket of laundry.

"Claire!" Joe called out. "Hey, Claire!" He dashed down the hall after her.

"What, suh? What do you want?" Claire looked at him with her large dark eyes and Joe was struck by how pretty she was.

Breathless, Joe said "Claire, I um, I need to talk to you about this afternoon... I mean, I am really sorry that you thought... that I... I would never do that, I just wanted you to know" Joe's words tumbled out.

Claire looked at him, really looked at him for the first time. She couldn't believe her ears. Who was this boy? He sure was acting like no other white man she had ever known. Her eyes searched his face and saw only sincerity there.

"You're making fun of me, suh" Claire finally said.

"No, no!" Joe insisted. "And stop calling me sir... I ain't your boss". He grinned at her suddenly.
Claire smiled in spite of herself. His grin was so infectious.

Joe said "That's better. You know, you are real pretty when you smile. Hey, really, I am sorry about earlier. I didn't mean anything by it... I hope you'll forgive me."

Claire stared at Joe, dumbstruck. He was APOLOGISING to her? Asking for her forgiveness? She snorted. "Well, this must be the day to end all days. A white man apologizing to me. Humph."

Joe looked at her strangely. "Is there some reason I shouldn't?"

"You really don't know, do you boy? Well, if you are gonna live round here, you better understand and understand good. People like me, we ain't humans. We ain't worth apologizing to. Least ways, that's what we are always told." Claire tilted her head defiantly, as if daring Joe to argue with her.

Joe didn't know what to say. "Claire... " He said helplessly.

"Dinner is served, you better get down there afore your aunt comes up here and finds you talking to me. There will be all hell to pay if she does, and not just for me. Now get." Claire turned and walked down the hall, leaving Joe staring after her.

Rivieux Rouge

October 1

Dear Pa, Hoss and Adam:

Sorry I've been so long in writing. Things here have been very exciting the last two weeks. The ball was a huge success and I met many wonderful people. But the most exciting news is that I am working with Phillipe in his horse training business. He needed a lot of help to get ready for the big horse show that was held in town yesterday.

The training here is very different. The horses are trained to do things other than herding. They are taught not only to trot and gallop but you also teach them to jump fences and other small obstacles. Phillipe asked me to help him break and train all his new horses.

Well, one of the horses is an Arabian and I broke and trained him in two weeks. It was amazing. I worked with him the last two weeks non-stop and Phillipe suggested I enter him in the show. There were three events for the men and two for the women. The Arabian, Midnight, and I won the jumping and the obstacle competitions, Phillipe won the race and Sylvie won the women's jumping competition.

Uncle Francois was so proud of all of us. We celebrated last night with a barbecue and invited most of the neighbors. There was a small band and we danced 'til past midnight. Phillipe and I had a long talk afterwards and we've decided to go partners on the horse training business. With the money we won at the show we have enough to buy some more stock and get into more breeding. Uncle Francois and Phillipe presented me with Midnight and he'll be the lead sire of our new herd.

Aunt Felicia and I leave tomorrow to go to Belle Mer for a visit. She has a number of my mother's things from school and I can't wait to get there and see what she has. The plantation is just outside New Orleans so I'm hoping to get to see a bit more of the city.

I am enclosing a copy of the picture that was taken of Phillipe, Jacques, Uncle Francois and myself at the ball.

Your son,

Joe The letter arrived with the mail and Ben opened it eagerly. It had been weeks since they had heard from Little Joe. Hoss and Adam were watching his face, waiting to hear what Joe had to say. Ben silently passed the letter to Adam, who held it up so Hoss could read it over his shoulder. Ben slowly pulled the photograph out from between the two pieces of still paper. Hoss and Adam came around the table to look over his shoulder at the picture.

Ben's eyes were riveted on his youngest son's face. Joe was beautifully dressed in formal evening clothes. Ben knew he hadn't purchased anything like that for Joe during their time together in New Orleans. It must have come from Francois. Joe looked very happy and relaxed, shoulder to shoulder with his cousin, both standing behind his uncle, Joe's hand resting affectionately on his uncle's shoulder. Ben thought of the business Joe had entered into with his cousin. Breeding horses wasn't a business you entered into for a winter visit. His heart ached for his son.

Adam stared in amazement at the young child sitting on the older man's lap. The little boy was the spitting image of Joe at that same age. Adam remembered Little Joe coming to him at night for stories and cuddling when he was just five years old. Suddenly Adam felt a fierce longing for his baby brother. He missed Joe's chatter, his bubbly bouncy personality. Things had seemed so quiet around the house these last few weeks. When he and Hoss were on their camping trip they had often found themselves recounting stories of Joe on previous trips.

Hoss was gaping at the picture, astonished at the almost mirror image of Joe, standing at his brother's side. For only a brief moment he hadn't been sure which person was Joe and which was his cousin Phillipe. Then he realized that Joe was more muscular than his cousin, who was leaner and a tiny bit shorter. He studied the picture carefully and realized what was bothering him: Joe, his cousins and his uncle looked like a family. The resemblance was extraordinary, it was like seeing Joe at four different ages all in one picture. He glanced over at the picture of himself, his father and brothers taken the year before. He couldn't see any resemblance. Suddenly Hoss was sadder than he could ever remember being, he didn't think Joe would be coming home again.****************************************

Joe was seated in the very carriage that had brought him to Rivieux Rouge chatting amiably with his aunt. Funny how in only a month he had so completely adapted to the sweltering heat. He was perfectly comfortable and slouched comfortably in his seat.

Felicia was enchanted with her young nephew. Their weeks at Rivieux Rouge had been among the most enjoyable in years. She had enjoyed watching Joe get to know his cousins. She was proud at how well Joe had fit into their society. She had secretly harbored some concerns about Joe, given what had happened with his mother. But Joe had risen to the occasion. A number of mothers had come to her after the barbecue, inquiring about the prospects of young Joseph. Felicia found herself considering her nephew in a whole new light, potential heir to Belle Mer. This would give him his own property and business when she passed on, and he could manage it for her until then. She smiled to herself, time enough for that.

"Aunt Felicia, how long have you lived at Belle Mer?" Joe was curious about his aunt's life. He knew she had been married but her husband had died a number of years ago. She had no children, which he thought was very sad, she was a wonderful person. The more time Joe spent with his aunt, the more memories were stirred of his mother. He remembered his last birthday with his mother, they had been out at the lake, near where her grave was now located.

"I went to Belle Mer when I was just 18, I had married my husband and joined him there."

"How old were you when you two met?"

"I was 18, I met him about six months before we were to be married."

Joe frowned, something was odd about the way she had spoken, "Was it love at first sight?"

"Mais non," Felicia briefly lapsed into French as she smiled in amusement. "My marriage was arranged. It was the joining of two great plantations. My father had arranged it with Jean when they met for business. Jean's wife had passed away the year before and he wanted a new wife to bear him children."

Joe was horrified. "You mean you didn't love him? Ever?"

"Joe that is not how things are done. I grew to love Jean, in my own way. We were happy for the few years we had together."

"Do you ever think of marrying again?" Joe asked brightly. His father after all had found love not once but three times.

Felicia thoughtfully tapped her chin. She had once thought she was in love, but the man would not have been deemed suitable in society, he had in fact been her overseer. Once her father had passed on she had found herself unwilling to seek out other men.

"No Joseph, I never have."
"So you live alone?" Joe tried to imagine living alone. He had gone on trips alone before but somehow he had never truly felt alone. At the start and end of every trip he had always had his father and brothers. On this trip he had found a whole new family and had been so busy getting used to these new relatives he hadn't had time to be lonely or miss his father and brothers, at least not too much.

"Well, not exactly. I do have your Great Uncle Lucien staying with me."

"Who," Joe looked astonished. Another relative he had not heard of, how many more could there be?

"Your great uncle Lucien, he was your mother and my uncle, our father's younger brother. He moved into Belle Mer about ten years ago."

"Doesn't he have his own home, his own family?"

"No Joe, he doesn't. Uncle Lucien chose not to marry the woman selected for him by his family. Instead he married a most unsuitable woman. She died many years ago and he drifted from place to place. He came to me ten years ago and I took him in. He's a harmless old man." She began to say more but stopped herself. Felicia resolved to keep Joe away from her uncle as best she could. There were too many things that she and Francois had agreed should be kept from Joe. Glancing out the window she smiled gaily, "Ah Joe here we are, Belle Mer."

The carriage drew up outside the house and Joe climbed down and assisted his Aunt from the carriage. As he turned around his mouth dropped open and he gazed in awe at the house. It was huge, even bigger than Rivieux Rouge. Trees draped in Spanish moss surrounded the house. The house itself stood four stories tall and had columns stretching from the first floor to the roof. Joe was awed, all that house for just one person. "Aunt Felicia," he gasped. He couldn't say anymore.

"Do you like it Joe?" Felicia couldn't help but be pleased at Joe's reaction.
"It's the most beautiful place I've ever seen. It looks like someplace a king would live."

"A king or at the very least a fine young prince, heir to the throne." A voice came from behind one of the columns.

Joe peered into the shady porch, and saw an old man seated in a large white rocking chair. The man was immaculately dressed in a white suit with a black tie. The man's head was covered in curly white hair, his face lined with wrinkles. His faded green eyes were surrounded with deep lines, from many years squinting in the sun.

"How do you do sir?" Joe advanced with his hand outstretched, "Joseph Cartwright sir."

"Lucien son, Lucien DesVries, you must Marie's boy." Lucien peered up at Joe and slowly rose to his feet. He put his arms out to embrace his niece. "Felicia my dear, welcome home."

"Bonjour Uncle Lucien. How have you been?"

"Just fine my dear, though feeling a bit stranded here. No one to go into the Swamp with." Lucien smiled wickedly at his niece and she found herself returning his smile.

"Uncle Lucien you are wicked. Now let's take young Joe here on his tour."
The rest of the day was spent touring Belle Mer's house and surrounding grounds. Joe was amazed at the number of rooms in the house. He had his own suite with the largest bed he had ever seen in it. He had his own bedroom, a sitting room and a study. Once he had seen the house and stables it was time for dinner. He, his aunt and great uncle had a cordial dinner and Joe retired to his room.

A tap came at his door as he was sitting in front of the desk, looking at a blank sheet of paper. He was trying to compose a letter to Kate and Lance back home. "Come in."

Joe turned and saw Daisy standing in the doorway. "Just came to check on you child. You got everything you need?"

"Yes Daisy, thank you." Joe smiled at her brightly.

"Child, every time I see that smile of yours I think of your mama. She was the happiest child I ever did see."

"You knew my mother well Daisy?" Joe looked hopeful, he had been with his family for over a month and he still had not learned much more about his mother.

"Child, I was the second woman in this world to see your mama, five minutes after she was born the midwife handed her to me and I gave her her first bath. She was the sweetest baby, gurgling and laughing."

"Daisy, what did she like to do when she was little?" Joe figured he could get Daisy to tell him everything if he asked enough innocent questions.

Daisy thought for a moment, "She loved mischief more than anything, she was curious and wanted to see and explore everywhere. You couldn't turn your back a minute before she'd be into trouble."

"Like what?" Joe straightened in his chair.

"Child, that girl got into everything, from climbing out the window to go sleep in the barn with her favorite horse when it was sick, to putting glue in her brother's boots so they got stuck on his feet."
Joe laughed heartily. "I bet Uncle Francois was mad."

"He was furious, but your grandfather could never stay mad at your mother long. Not then anyway." Daisy's smile faded and she shuffled back to the door. "You sleep well child."

Joe leaned back in his chair. He had learned something. He smiled remembering the times he had snuck out the window and he remembered doing the same thing with glue to Hoss, boy he was hopping mad. Pa could never stay mad at him. His own smile faded, things had changed. His father and brothers didn't seem to even miss him, their lives were moving on without him.

Aunt Felicia had received a message to go see her solicitor the next morning and she told Joe about it over breakfast. "It's just business Joe. I have been away for a while. Can you keep yourself occupied?"

"Yes Ma'am." Joe nodded, he was looking forward to exploring the grounds around the plantation.

"I'll be in late this evening, I'll see you tomorrow morning. Daisy is looking for your mother's trunk. She'll get it to you tonight or tomorrow morning. Good bye dear." Felicia rose as her butler came into the room. She bent and kissed Joe's cheek affectionately and ruffled the curls on his forehead. He smiled at her and she swept out.

Joe sat idly stirring his coffee wondering where to start when his Great Uncle tottered into the room. "Joseph, what are you up to today?"

"Nothing special sir."

"Well then my boy perhaps you would do me a favor and accompany me into New Orleans, I have several appointments to keep. I could use the company."

Joe agreed eagerly, "I would be happy to sir. Shall I tell them to get the surrey ready?"

"Thank you son. I'll be ready in just a moment."

Joe bounced outside and asked the butler to call for the surrey. The two set off in high good spirits. "Sir where are we going?" Joe asked as he drove the surrey. It was nice to be driving again, he hadn't driven in over a month.

"Son we're going to a section of New Orleans that's called The Swamp."
"The Swamp?" Joe's voice rose slightly. He had heard about swamps, full of moss and alligators and other strange creatures.

Lucien laughed, his laugh a high pitched giggle, infectious in nature. "Son the Swamp is down in the River District, down on Girod and Julia Streets. It's the place where a man can fulfill his heart's desire."

"Like what?"

"My son, I will be taking you to see some of the greatest entertainment a man has ever seen. There's a circus, horse races, cock fights, all the food and drink you could ever want and the prettiest gals you ever did see. What do you say to that?"

Joe perked up, horse races, circuses, pretty girls. His face lit up and he urged the horses into a fast trot. "I say what are we waiting for?"

Twelve hours later Little Joe and his uncle entered Madame Kate's after feasting as Maspero's restaurant. Joe was beaming, his face flushed with the sun from a day at the horse races where he had won a great deal of money. He helped his uncle in and gazed around in astonishment. The house was filled with elegantly tailored gentlemen and some of the most beautiful women he had ever seen.

"My boy these girls are the finest New Orleans has to offer. You'll never have a better time."

"Monsieur Lucien," a tall graceful woman came down the broad staircase, wearing a simple low cut red silk dress. She came forward and embraced Lucien, kissing both his cheeks affectionately.
"Kate, my love, you have never looked more beautiful." Lucien bent and gracefully kissed the back of her hand, then turned it over and kissed the palm.

Kate simpered and patted his cheek. "Now who have we here?" She turned and eyed Joe up and down. He shifted uncomfortably. He'd had his share of encounters with saloon girls and the like, but this was something different.

"My nephew Joseph. Joseph, this is Madame Kate, the best Madame in the whole of New Orleans. Kate I want something special for young Joseph here. Something a bit different." Lucien slurred his words just a little.

Joe began to shake his head, he liked to pick out his own girls. But Madame Kate came and took him by the arm. "Come Joseph, I know just the girl for you." Joe cast a glance back at his uncle, who stood smiling after him, his eyebrows raised. Then they passed into a small back parlor. Sitting on a couch in the back room was the most beautiful girl Joe thought he had ever seen. She had dark creamy colored skin, like coffee with lots of cream in it. Her eyes were large and deep brown and her lips a luscious red. Her hair was black as midnight, flowing in gentle shining waves to her waist. She was dressed quite simply in a red silky negligee.

Joe could feel his heart begin to beat faster. "Chantal, this is Joseph, our very special guest. Please make him welcome."

Kate let go of Joe's arm and as he stood awkwardly she gave him a small push towards Chantal. Joe stumbled forward, feeling as awkward as a schoolboy. "How d'ya do ma'am?" Joe stuttered.

"I'm just fine." She smiled and her white teeth gleamed. "Why don't you set yourself down here and I'll pour us both a little drink." Chantal poured some champagne into two tall fluted glasses. Joe sipped the champagne down, not bothering to think about the beer and whisky he had consumed earlier that evening at the races.

Chantal began to ruffle Joe's hair, playing with the soft curls above his forehead. "My how lovely your hair is," she cooed into his ear. Joe found himself relaxing slightly. He smiled and picked out a strand of her fine shiny black hair.

"Same to you ma'am." He winced to himself. He sounded like his brother Hoss. Where were all his fine lines, used so effectively on the saloon girls of Virginia City?
"Why don't you take your jacket off and stay awhile." Chantal unbuttoned Joe's jacket and eased it off his shoulders. She then began to play with the buttons of his shirt, undoing them halfway down his chest. She paused to pour them both more champagne. As Joe drank he sank back into the loose cushions. Chantal followed him and they began to kiss softly then with greater intensity. Chantal's lips moved over his lips, cheeks and eyes, fluttering gently as her hands stroked his chest. Chantal's negligee slipped off her shoulders and Joe was lost in her arms, kissing her face and neck. Chantal eased his shirt off and with the briefest of hesitation undid his belt. Joe paused for only a moment, but as her hand touched his flat stomach and began to move down he was indeed at that moment lost.

The next morning Joe woke with a crashing headache. He remembered leaving the brothel with his uncle in the middle of the night and the two of them somehow finding their way home in the surrey. With the help of several servants Joe had gotten his uncle to bed then staggered into his own room. His stomach churned as a mixture of wine, champagne, beer and whiskey rose in his throat. He lay back down and prayed for the pain to end. An hour or two later Joe rose again and splashed his face with cold water. He just couldn't face breakfast. He removed his road dusty clothes from the day before and gave himself a quick sponge bath.

Once he was cleaned up, Joe felt a bit more like himself. He groaned as he felt his stomach pitch, he had no desire to eat. As he looked around the room for a distraction he saw a small pink trunk sitting on the floor near the foot of his bed. He crossed over to the trunk and looked down.

"Marie DesVries" was written across the top of the trunk in fancy gold paint. Joe's nausea fled and he dropped to his knees next to the trunk, opening it slowly. He pulled out the first item that came to light, a large jewelry box. He crossed his legs and sat on the floor, opening the delicately carved box. Inside a faint tinkling sound was heard, it was a music box. Joe smiled suddenly nostalgic, one of Adam's many treasures was his mother's music box. Now Joe had one too. He felt underneath and wound it carefully. The box didn't work. He opened it again and saw that the base of the box was crooked. He lifted out the piece of wood and gasped as he saw a book resting on top of the music box's works.

Joe lifted the book out and the music box began to play. He opened the book and saw the first page. Diary of Marie DesVries was written in a fine slanted hand across the page. Joe paged through the book slowly, stopping here and there to read small fragments then he turned to the last page. He slowly read. Today is the day that I run away with my beloved. It is time. I am not ashamed of what I have done. I will not be forced to marry a man that I do not love. I will not condone what my father is doing. I must leave this place, I must turn my back on my father's wishes. I love my brother and sister and hope very much that one-day my children will come to know and love them. I will make sure my husband knows this is my wish and we will both make sure that my children know and love my family as I do.

Joe put the book down, and slowly tears filled his eyes. His father had lied to him.
 

 Felicia stepped out into the warm afternoon, holding a cup of tea, intending to spend the afternoon in the shade of the veranda. She wondered to herself where her nephew was—it was noon and she had not seen him yet today. She had heard Joe and Lucien get in rather late and she was a little worried. She loved her uncle, but she also had a feeling that it would not take much encouragement for Joe to indulge in some of the less wholesome aspects of New Orleans. Lucien was just the one to do it, too she thought. And she had promised Ben Cartwright she would look after Joe.
As she was sitting down, Felicia gazed down the long, shady porch and spied her nephew sitting at the other end, his back to her.

Felicia put her teacup down and slowly walked over to Joe. "Well, sleepyhead, I was wondering where you were", she said.

Joe merely shrugged his shoulders. He didn't turn around. He was sitting with his elbows resting on his knees and his forehead leaning on his hands.

Felicia was taken aback by Joe's indifference to her greeting. "Are you all right, Joe": she asked, moving around him. He turned away, and mumbled something she couldn't hear. "Joe," Felicia said, bending down and squeezing his shoulder. He looked up at her and she was stunned by his appearance. He looked terrible, as if he was ill. His hair tumbled over his face in a mass of unruly curls, and his face looked sallow under his tan He was wearing a shirt that was half unbuttoned, the tails hanging out over his old jeans and cowboy boots. But it was the completely vulnerable look on Joe's face that made Felicia start.

Suspecting that part of the problem was overindulgence, Felicia asked "Joe, did you have too much to drink last night?" "I can get you something for that, if—"

"That's only part of it" Joe said bitterly.

Felicia sat down beside Joe on the step. "Can I help, Joe?" Joe shook his head. He didn't know what to say to his aunt. She probably didn't even know he had the diary and he wasn't sure he wanted to tell her of its existence. He picked at a hole in his jeans and said nothing. He looked up and stared out into the fields.

Felicia asked quietly "Did Lucien get you into this condition? Because I certainly will speak to him if he did."

Joe shook his head. "No, no, Uncle Lucien and I had a great time." Joe crossed his arms, stood up and went down the steps. He looked at the ground and scuffing the dirt with the toe of his boot he said "Aunt Felicia... you said you would tell me about my ma...." he trailed off.

"What is it you would like to know, Joseph?" Felicia asked, guardedly.

"Why did she leave you all? What happened? Why didn't your father let you see her again? " Joe asked, suddenly looking up into Felicia's eyes.

Felicia swallowed hard. This was the question she had been dreading, the one she was afraid Joe would ask. "Joe, it's not a simple thing... and I did see her again. Though not after she left New Orleans of course."

At this, Joe stiffened. Of course not, he thought angrily.

"Joe, the why's don't matter anymore—your mother is gone and those things that happened are best forgotten. To bring them out again would do no one any good and would only reopen old wounds. Please believe me about this." Felicia looked searchingly at Joe's face, but she could not tell what he was thinking.

"I loved her very much, as did Francois. Your mother was so full of life, so much fun. My father spoiled her terribly, I'm afraid, since she was the youngest. She was very headstrong and completely accustomed to getting her own way. But she was never mean—she was generous and always thought of others. I think you are very much like her, Joe. I have seen how you are with Jacques. You are young and I think, a bit headstrong, but you are also kind."

Felicia looked at her nephew and felt a twinge of apprehension. She wasn't sure why. Was it the fact that he was standing there looking more cowboy than southern gentleman, reminding her that he wasn't completely a part of this life? She smiled to herself. How quickly he had come to mean so much to her. She didn't want to lose him, now that she had found him. She brushed her doubts aside, silently chiding herself for being foolish. "What brought all this on?"

"Oh, Daisy brought me my mother's things." Joe said. "I guess that started me thinking about the past". He was frustrated. His aunt was obviously not going to tell him the particulars of his mother's departure either.

"Well, why didn't you say so, Joe? Let's go upstairs and I can tell you about them all." Felicia held her hand out to Joe, smiling, hoping that this would improve his mood.

They spent the afternoon going through Marie's trunk and Felicia told Joe tales of their childhood on Rivieux Rouge. She pulled out a long-dead fragile brown flower that was pressed in thin paper. "Oh, Marie... she always had more beaux than anyone else in the county. I'm surprised the trunk isn't full of dead flowers! She was so pretty, but it was her sense of fun that kept the boys coming around! She wasn't afraid of anything and she was just as likely to beat the boys in a horse race as she was to dance with them!" Felicia smiled fondly, as she looked down at a small portrait of Marie. "I remember when this was taken, it was the year I got married... she was my bridesmaid".

Suddenly Felicia realized that the sun was disappearing over the trees. "My goodness, Joe, it's almost time for dinner... do you feel like you can eat anything yet?"

Joe grinned at his aunt, "Yeah, actually I think I could as much as my brother Hoss right now."

After dinner Joe joined his aunt in the parlor, where she was doing needlework. Joe had the sudden thought that he had little idea what women did with their time, as he had never lived with one long enough to know. He flopped on the couch and his aunt fixed him with a stern look.

"Did my ma like to do what you're doing?" Joe asked, oblivious to his aunt's reproach.
"Oh, my, not at all! I could barely teach her to sew on a button! She had no patience for sitting still and sewing. She would have told me this was quite boring!" Felicia laughed.

"Hey, sounds like me", Joe said. "I hated school because I couldn't sit still long enough to pay attention to the lessons."

"Your mother hated it when my father sent her away to the convent school. Oh, she was miserable there. She ran off twice, and my father had to go into New Orleans and promise the nuns that it wouldn't happen again. It was very hard for her there, she used to tell me it was like a prison. But no doubt she needed the discipline, although in the end, I don't think it made one bit of difference. I never saw anyone on whom punishment made so little impression."

Joe rolled his eyes and laughed to himself. How many times had his father said that to him?

"Why did you father send her away to school?" Joe asked.

"Well," Felicia said choosing her words carefully. "Marie was fifteen and as I said, was quite the belle of the county. She had many beaux, but she was promised, by my father to one. Marie would have no part of him. She refused to marry the man my father had chosen. He was a good man, and would have been a kind husband to Marie, but Marie said he was too old for her and too dull. But she had already met another. The youngest son of a wealthy New Orleans family."

"Jean DeMarigny?" Joe asked.
"Yes. But he would never inherit, as he was the youngest. My father did not think him suitable at all. Marie continued to defy him and see Jean, so my father sent her to the nuns."

"She married him anyway." Joe said.

"Yes, she did, she ran off and married him. My father was very angered by that. Your mother threw away a chance at being the wife of a respected planter for being the wife of a man who had little." Felicia sighed. She was saved from continuing with the story by Joe's interruption.

"I don't think that marrying for love is ever wrong, Aunt Felicia. If she loved him, then he was the one she should have married."

Felicia nodded. How cut and dried Joe made it seem. She thought back to the turmoil of that time, when Marie was seventeen. It had been anything but simple for all of them.
 

Ben looked up from his books as his eldest son burst through the door. "Letter from Joe, Pa" Adam said, tossing it to Ben. Ben looked at the envelope, written in Joe's familiar backslanting writing and tore it open. He was always pleased to hear from Joe. He began reading, while Adam watched, waiting to hear what Joe had to say. Ben flinched and brought his hand up to his mouth. He turned away from Adam.

"What, Pa, what is it?" Adam queried. He reached for the letter and Ben did not attempt to keep it from him. Ben buried his face in his hands, as Adam began to read. Dear Pa

This is a hard letter for me to write, but I felt like I must. I have my ma's diary. And in it she says that she hoped her children would know her family and love them like she did. Pa, you said that she wanted nothing to do with New Orleans, but here, in her writing, she says she would have wanted her family to know me. Why did you lie to me, Pa? I always thought you were straight with me, you taught me to never lie, but I guess it's different when you're the father.

Joe
Adam could practically feel the accusation dripping from the letter. Joe must have been really angry to write such a letter home. But he also knew Joe and realized that by now, Joe might have cooled off. He got hot quick, but Joe rarely held a grudge.

"Pa, you know how Joe is..." Adam said, attempting to make his father feel better. "He blows up, then it's forgotten."

"No Adam, you don't know how serious this is... Joe found his mother's diary—he may know things I hoped he'd never find out." Ben rubbed his eyes and sighed.

"What things, Pa." Adam asked softly. "What is there after 20 years or more that can come out now and hurt Joe?"

Ben shook his head. "He blames me for not telling him about his mother's family... but he doesn't know... he doesn't know the things she told me. About how she didn't want to ever go back and be part of the rotten life there. And I have let her son go back there and get involved in it. She would not have wanted that, Adam. She hated it. She loved her family, but she hated their lifestyle."

Adam shook his head. "Pa, Joe will be ok. He's a smart kid. Sure, I think he was angry when he wrote this, but I'll bet you anything he already regrets it."
 "I wish I knew that Adam. I wish I was with him now, I want to talk to him." Ben said worriedly. If it weren't for the dangerous snows in the mountain passes, Ben would have booked passage on the next stage. He felt a growing anxiety about his youngest son.

Just then the door slammed and Hoss walked into the house. He immediately saw the tense look on their faces. "What' s wrong? You two look like you just lost your best friend."

Adam reluctantly handed Hoss the letter from Joe. He knew that Hoss, more than either of them, missed his little brother and that Joe's letter would crush him. Hoss reacted as Adam expected.

"Dadburn it, Pa, why did you ever take Joe there in the first place? If he hadn't a gone there, this woulda never happened." Hoss looked anguished. "I gotta go to him, Pa, I gotta make him see we want him back here."

"Hoss, don't be ridiculous, you know travel through the mountains is very dangerous now" Adam said crossly. He didn't like to see Hoss openly blame their father for this situation, but he had to agree with him that it would have been much better if Joe had never set foot in New Orleans.
 

The days passed slowly for Joe at Belle Mer. Without his young cousins around, he found it rather quiet. He spent several afternoons out riding, seeing the area. He delighted his Uncle Lucien by spending time fencing with him. Lucien was not as quick as Joe, but he was a master with the epee and was able to defeat Joe several times.

One afternoon, as Joe and Lucien finished their match, Lucien suggested that they take another ride into New Orleans together.

"We had a fine time there before, did we not?" Lucien said, raising his eyebrows and laughing wickedly.

"Yeah, we sure did" Joe grinned. "I'm up for it!" After all, Joe would be at Belle Mer for only another day before it was time to return to Rivieux Rouge. He ran up the stairs to his rooms to change.

"Tonight I am taking you somewhere different", Lucien said. "The place we are going—why a man could have anything he ever wanted there, and I do mean anything!" Lucien laughed.

Joe glanced at Lucien, wondering just what he meant by anything. He jumped down out of the carriage and helped his uncle step out. Joe shrugged his new blue jacket on over his black vest and white silk shirt. Black pants completed the outfit. He felt very handsomely attired and felt certain the ladies would notice him tonight.

"This way" Lucien beckoned. This was not the same area Joe had seen the last time they were in the Swamp. This area looked older and dirtier, more rundown. Lucien led him through the door of a particularly decrepit building. Joe had to strain to see anything once they were inside. The place was dark and smoky and reminded him of the saloons on D street in Virginia City. His uncle pushed his way through the crowd and obtained a table by slipping the hostess a bill. He ordered a bottle of whiskey for both of them and leaned back, enjoying his role as host. He poured a glass for himself and for Joe and lit a cigar. Joe downed the glass quickly. "Smoke, son?" Lucien offered. "Uh, no, not those" Joe grinned weakly. He pulled a cigarette paper and tobacco from his jacket pocket and rolled a cigarette. "Just these. Sometimes."
Joe lit the cigarette and looked around. He saw quite a few women, several of who looked rather rough and not nearly as pretty as the one he had spent the evening with last week. A small orchestra began to play and men hurried for their seats. Joe's attention was directed to the stage at the front of the room, where the curtains opened and three very scantily clad women danced onto the stage. Joe stared. Never had he seen anything like this. He watched, almost gaping as the women began removing various pieces of what little clothes they had on. They then came out in the audience and Joe watched as men began giving them money as they danced. Boy, he thought, wait'll I tell Adam and Hoss about this, they'll never believe it.

One of the women danced right up to Joe and Lucien's table. She winked at Joe and put her hands on his shoulders and pulled him to his feet to dance with her. Joe flushed, he didn't know where he should put his hands, so he finally slid them around her bare waist. She leaned towards him and kissed him hard on the mouth and then pulled away, smiling at him before moving on to another table. Joe sat back down and grinned at his uncle and poured himself another drink. Lucien clapped him on the arm and then said, "listen, son, I am going to go over to the gaming tables. You do what you want and let's meet at midnight, by the roulette wheel."

Joe nodded. He picked up his drink and moved toward the back of the room, where there were several young women loitering around, looking for customers for the evening. A dark-haired woman came up to Joe and smiled at him. She put her hand on his arm and asked him if he was looking for someone to spend the evening with. Joe said, "oh, I might be". The girl grabbed a bottle and escorted Joe upstairs to her room.

Joe followed her inside and tossed his jacket on a chair. He had been careful to place his money in his pants pocket and he didn't intend to let them get too far away—or to get too intoxicated to know what was going on. This place made him uneasy—he had been in saloons like it and usually it had ended badly. He intended to have a drink with this girl, a little more fun and then be on his way.

Joe came downstairs at midnight and headed for the roulette table, where he promised to meet his uncle. His uncle wasn't to be seen. Joe tried looking around the gaming tables but it was difficult to see in the smoky haze that hung over the room. He asked the roulette dealer if he had seen an older man fitting Lucien's description that evening, and the dealer jerked his thumb at the adjoining room, where men where playing cards. Suddenly angry voices rang out and Joe heard the sound of splintering wood. He dashed into the room and saw his uncle sprawled on the floor. He hurried over to him, but not before a man had hauled Lucien to his feet and punched him, sending the older man to the floor once again.
"No, you don't!" yelled Joe and he sent the other man reeling with a hard punch to the jaw. Joe felt himself grabbed from behind and thrown. He crashed into a table and chairs, scattering them. He picked himself up quickly and launched himself at his attacker, punching him hard in the stomach. The other man went down, but his partner had landed on Joe's back and Joe went down, hitting the floor hard. The two men grappled on the floor, and Joe's attacker managed to get in some particularly nasty blows to Joe's face before Joe was able to scramble to his feet. He wished quickly that he had his gun, but this was supposed to be civilization. Joe dragged the thug to his feet as well, then hit him hard in the head, knocking him out.

Joe leaned on a table, trying to get his breath. He looked around and saw Lucien, still sitting on the floor. He staggered over to his uncle, held out his hand and pulled Lucien up.

"Let's get out of here" Joe said breathlessly. He draped Lucien's arm over his shoulders and supporting the old man's weight, he half dragged him back to their carriage.

"Are you ok?" Joe asked, worriedly. His own face hurt from the blows he had recieved, but he was concerned that his old uncle would not have fared as well.

"Mais oui, my boy, it is nothing, I have fought men bigger than those two." Lucien replied.

"I think I was the one doing the fighting, Uncle." Joe commented dryly, taking the reins from his uncle. "What happened in there anyway?"

It was nothing, it was just a financial matter." Lucien said dismissively.
 "Oh" nodded Joe, understanding perfectly. He drove them home through the humid night, thinking about other nights when he had come home late from town and in trouble. He guessed he was not the one in trouble this time, but all of a sudden he felt a wave of homesickness wash over him. The entire evening had been awful. It had all seemed so hollow and desperate. Joe looked over at his dozing great uncle and realized that his life was exactly the kind of life that his father didn't want him to lead. Joe had often thought it would be the life to spend his days and nights playing cards and chatting up pretty girls. He saw a different reality in his great uncle, that of a man, who lived off others, at their tolerance, who had no family of his own and who had to buy his companionship. Joe shook his head and admitted to himself that his Pa had been right. It wasn't the life he wanted for himself. He looked up at the starry sky as he drove and wondered what his family was doing, and he wondered if they missed him as well. He already regretted sending the angry letter to his Pa. As usual, he hadn't stopped to think his actions through.

He pulled the carriage up to the house and helped his Uncle Lucien out. The door of the house opened and Felicia saw Joe staggering under his uncle's weight and rushed forward to help him. Together, they got the old man upstairs and into bed. As they left his room, Felicia said, "that cut on your face needs attention, Joe, let me take care of it". They walked down the long hallway to Joe's rooms.

"Ah," Joe said, "it's nothing. I've been beat up lots worse than this" He grinned ruefully.

"Thank you, Joe, for helping Lucien. He is a dear old man, but, this is not the first time this has happened, and I know it won't be the last. How much did he owe this time?" Felicia asked, as she dabbed alcohol on Joe's cuts.

Joe winced as the alcohol stung his skin. "I don't know... he didn't say". He realized for the first time how his brothers must feel when they had to bring him home after a night on the town and explain everything to Pa.

"Well, it is a good thing I think, that you are leaving tomorrow," Felicia said. "I think you have been to the Swamp enough times, don't you? There, you should be alright now. No real harm done to you". She patted her nephew on the shoulder and wished him goodnight.
 

My dear Joseph:

I was very surprised by your last letter. In the years your mother and I were together she rarely spoke of her family to me. When she left her family to marry her first husband they effectively banished her from the family. I am sure that her brother and sister had little to do with this. However there is a far greater reason she chose to leave her family behind. That reason was slavery.

I have not often spoken to you about this issue, you and your brother Adam often seemed at such cross purposes about it I felt it was best if I remain silent. Your mother however had often been very outspoken against slavery. She saw the many lives that this 'institution' destroyed in the south. She felt it was wrong and in the end both she and her husband were abandoned by their families partly because they defied their parents and married for love and partly because they publicly spoke out against slavery. By the time your mother and I met she had been an outcast from most of what was considered decent society because of her beliefs.

I am sorry if I have hurt you by not speaking of this. Your mother never wanted to return to New Orleans, she preferred the clean and honest home we made together from the sweat of our brows rather than living off the mistreatment and abuse of others.

Joe your brothers and I miss you and we love you very much. We want you to come home to us and we miss you every moment of every day. Please come back to us as soon as you can.

Love

Pa.
Hoke rode with the package of mail up to the main house. He smiled in delight as young Jacques raced up to meet him. "Hey Hoke, got any mail for us today?"

"Yessir Master Jacques I gots a whole parcel of mail. You want to take it in to your daddy?"

"Yes, thank you Hoke."

"Thank you son."

Jacques accepted the package of mail with great glee. He carefully sorted through the package, looking at all the names. He had learned his letters and could spell out many things. He found a letter addressed to Joe Cartwright. He held this letter in his hand. He knew it must come from Joe's Pa. He hated Joe's Pa. Somehow whenever Joe got one of these letters he would seem sad for a few days afterwards. And he knew that Joe's Pa would want Joe to go back to that Ponderosa place. Jacques didn't want Joe to go, he wanted him to stay. Joe was so nice to him, just like Sylvie and Phillipe. Joe was better in some ways, he didn't get told to play with Jacques, he liked playing with him.

Jacques looked carefully around the hallway, no one was in sight. He carefully folded the letter and stuck it in his pants pocket. He then carried in the rest of the letters and presented them to his father. After his lunch Jacques hurried out to his favorite hiding place, an gnarled old tree covered with Spanish Moss. He buried the letter from Joe's father deep in the crevice in the tree. He skipped away, whistling a happy tune, knowing Joe was here to stay.
 

Joe and Felicia returned to Rivieux Rouge the day after Joe's adventure with his uncle. Uncle Lucien bid Joe a fond farewell, tugging the collar of his shirt he pulled Joe down and embraced him before he left.

"Au Revoir mon fils. Thank you for bringing an old man a little bit of pleasure." He chuckled and kissed Joe fondly on both cheeks.

Joe had smiled and hugged his uncle. He was an old reprobate but Joe knew in his day he would have given Joe a run for his money every time. "Au Revoir Lucien. I'll see you again soon."

As Joe and Felicia rode to the plantation they were gently lulled to sleep by the gentle motion of the carriage. Suddenly the carriage lurched to the left and Joe banged his head against the side of the carriage. He found he couldn't move his left arm and he looked down and saw his aunt was asleep by his side. He gazed down at her and felt his heart constrict with love for her.

She was so much like his mother, she had her beautiful features, her lovely smile and even more he knew that she loved him whole heartedly. Joe knew in his soul that this was what it would have been like to love his own mother. He had often told people who expressed sympathy at his losing his mother at so early an age that you couldn't miss what you never had. Now he knew what it meant to have a mother - someone to bandage his cuts and bruises, someone to gently remind him of the right and wrong ways to do things. He was so used to his father and brothers ways of minding him, somewhat rough, often loud. He found he didn't mind Felicia's scolding, her gentle ways were soothing and he never felt like he was somehow disappointing her, as he often did with his father.

Felicia blinked her eyes open and saw Joe looking down at her. She was surprised by the look of tenderness on his face and she smiled broadly at him. "Joseph, how long have I been asleep?" She struggled to sit up and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Not too long. You must be tired, waiting up for us the way you did."
"Oh, I always wait up for Lucien, he is like a little boy in so many ways. Thank you for taking care of him Joseph."

"It was nothing. I should never have left him alone last night. I should have stayed with him."

"Joseph, he is a grown man, he makes his own decisions. His loves have always been beautiful women, drinking and gambling. He has all his life. But now he is an old man, with no one but me to care for him. Francois won't let him come to his home very often, he was afraid he would corrupt Phillipe and Jacques."

Joe nodded. The beautiful Chantal was enough to corrupt any man. Joe had enjoyed her a great deal but knew that it was a meaningless sort of pleasure, not like being with someone you truly loved. He thought fleetingly of Emma, his first lover, and his first true love. How many times had he missed her in the past two years.

"Joe, why so sad?" Felicia put her hand to Joe's cheek and gently stroked it.

"No particular reason. Guess I just don't know for sure where I belong anymore."

"Joe, I have been meaning to talk to you about that. As you know, I am alone now, my husband has been gone a good many years." Joe nodded and she continued. "Francois consults with me on occasion about the business, but he has his own plantation and businesses to attend to. I was thinking, perhaps you would be interested in running Belle Mer."
Joe straightened in his seat, "Me? You want me to run Belle Mer?" He was astounded. He thought Belle Mer was one of the most beautiful places he had ever seen. He loved the fine house, the beautiful stables. As he had ridden the lawns the day before he had found himself wondering whether he could start a horse breeding business there.

"Yes Joe. Phillipe and Francois told me that you have an excellent head for business. You would have to manage the men, keep the books, build and expand the various business interests. I would give you a 25% share to begin, then in a few years I would give you a 75% share, keeping 25% for myself."

Joe leaned back, his mouth ajar. He couldn't even form the proper words to express how he was feeling. "Aunt Felicia, I would love it." But then his face fell. What about the Ponderosa, his father and brothers?

"Joe?" Felicia prodded him gently.

Joe thought seriously for a minute. He was truly torn. "May I have a few days to think about it? Please Aunt Felicia. I just need to figure a few things out." Joe felt pulled in two directions.

"Of course Joe. When we get back we must travel at the end of the week to the pre-wedding party that Paul's parents are throwing for Sylvie. We can talk again after that."

The two settled in for the rest of their ride, talking of little except Sylvie's engagement and upcoming nuptials.
 

The week at the plantation passed quickly. Joe spent much of his days with Phillipe, planning on how to build their business. The success of the two young men at the horse show had spread throughout the community. Many men were bringing their 'untrainable' stock to them to be broken. Joe's expertise was proving quite profitable for the two young men. Joe turned rough, unmanageable horses into relatively docile, trainable animals. Phillipe took over from there carefully schooling each mount. Their skills were complementary and soon the two young partners were fast becoming considered leading experts in the community.

One morning at breakfast, young Jacques expressed his displeasure at being left out of the business. His mother firmly hushed him, she had a strict rule of children being seen and not heard at the table.

Joe felt a rush of sympathy for Jacques. He remembered many times being frustrated at his two older brothers being allowed a privilege that was denied him. "Tell you what Jacques. I have no new animals to break this morning, how about I take you fishing today?"

Jacques squealed in delight. Even frosty Aunt Charlotte unbent briefly to smile at Joe. She had her hands full with the wedding. She did not need a whiny child on her hands as well.

Jacques and Joe left after breakfast, wearing their most casual of play clothes. Joe smiled to himself, his new "play" clothing was finer than most of the clothes he owned at the Ponderosa. He thought wistfully for a moment about his favorite green jacket, still probably hanging in the front hall where he had left it when he came on this trip. He loved that jacket.

"Joe, are you going to stay here forever?" Jacques asked, squeezing his cousin' hand to get his attention.

"Well Jacques, no one stays anywhere forever. But I would say I'll be here a good while yet." Joe beamed down on his tiny cousin. "Good, I like having you here. I wish you were my big brother Joe." Jacques let go of Joe's hand suddenly and raced ahead as the small pond came into view. Joe watched him go and grew thoughtful, Jacques was thirteen years younger than Joe, almost exactly the age difference between Joe and Adam. Had he and Adam ever been like this. Joe didn't really remember much, though he remembered Adam singing him to sleep and telling him stories when he was small. But then Adam went off to college and once he came back things were never the same. He was all grown up then and had little time for his younger brother, his interest being more in the business and his books. Joe hunched his shoulders, Adam wouldn't even go camping with them on the Annual winter hunt, not until Joe couldn't be there to go too.

Joe settled in next to Jacques. Together they carefully baited their hooks with the juicy worms Jacques had dug up from the garden that morning. By midday they both had large piles of fish beside them. Jacques was quite pleased and crowed that they would feed both the family and the servants that very night with their fine catch. As Jacques leapt about he suddenly stumbled over a small log and went ass over teakettle right into the pond. Joe jumped in right after him and plucked him out of the muddied water.

He climbed on shore carrying his small cousin and after a quick cuddle set him down to see if he was all right. "Are you hurt?" Joe's eyes scanned him anxiously. He was rewarded with a broad white grin in a now muddied little face.

"Nope, I reckon I'm just fine." Jacques said in his best western drawl. Joe laughed and the two set off back to the house. Unfortunately for Joe, Charlotte was passing through the front hall as they came in.

"Jacques, whatever happened to you? You look an absolute fright." She froze Joe to the spot with an ice-cold look. "Get upstairs right now." As Jacques ran upstairs to his nanny Charlotte turned to Joe, "Joseph in the future please remember that we are raising Jacques to be a young gentleman not some sort of ragamuffin cowboy." She turned and swept away.

Joe stood in the hallway staring after her. He could never understand his Aunt Charlotte, she was ice cold to everyone, such a strong contrast to his Uncle Francois and Aunt Felicia. He shrugged and moved on to his room to clean up.
The next day was filled with a horse show that Joe and Phillipe had entered three of their newly trained horses in. All three horses won their respective events. At the end of the competition Joe and Phillipe rode out in a special exhibition of riding skill. The crowd gasped as the two rode into the ring. Dressed in matching costumes, the two men were so close in resemblance that many people assumed they were twins. Joe and Phillipe were outfitted in pure white silk shirts and green string ties with matching green vests. Each wore tight fitting black pants and shiny black knee high riding boots. Phillipe had taken Joe to his barber the afternoon before for a haircut and had gotten one himself. Their haircuts were identical with thick curls that neatly curled around their heads in soft halos. Many of the women in the audience sighed wistfully at two such handsome men. Both executed several fancy moves and jumps and in the end they came to the center of the ring and smiled proudly.

They were presented with their trophies. The Announcer told the crowd about the formation of the J&C DesVries horse training school. After their exhibition Joe and Phillipe were inundated with well-wishers and interested customers. By the end of the afternoon they had booked a number of horses for their school and were looking forward to a productive and profitable winter.

When they returned home Sylvie greeted them at the door, her face aglow with excitement. "Joe come quickly, you must speak to mama and papa." Joe followed her quickly down the hall.

"Uncle Francois, is something the matter?" Joe felt his anxiety rise, had he done something to offend them.

"Joseph, we have encountered a small problem and we need your help."

"Yes sir."

"Well Joseph it seems that Paul's cousin Dimitri has been in an accident and he broke his leg in two places. He was supposed to be an usher in Sylvie's wedding next month. Now he won't be able to even attend. We got a request from Paul's father. We wondered if you would be willing to be his replacement." Francois, Sylvie and Phillipe all beamed at Joe.
Joe was startled but realized suddenly that this was a big honor, to be asked to be included in the wedding party. Suddenly it struck him, this was it, he was a member of the family. He realized they were still waiting for his answer. "Of course, I'd be happy to." Sylvie squealed and threw herself into Joe's arms.

"Oh, Joe, it will make this day complete. To see you standing up there with my two other brothers." She gave him a kiss right on the cheek. Joe hugged her back and saw a frown fleetingly skip across his aunt's face.

"Joe, you best get packed. We leave first thing in the morning for the house. You'll need your very best clothes, we have two parties and you'll have to be fitted for your formal suit." Sylvie began to push Joe out the door.

Joe went upstairs and pulled his travel bag out of his closet. He began going through his drawers and closets pulling out the clothes he had in order to pack. Within minutes his room was festooned with dress clothes, riding clothes and a variety of other things. From the bottom drawer he pulled out his everyday work clothes from the ranch. He frowned at them. He had only worn them twice since coming here. Somehow they never seemed to fit with what he did in his new day to day life.

A light knock came a moment later. "Come in."

Claire timidly opened the door and came in carrying a stack of clothing. "Lord Mr. Joseph, what have you done to this room?" her eyes widened in dismay.

"Oh Claire, I'm so sorry. I just meant to pack my things for the trip. I just don't know what's happened? Where did all these things come from?" The look of dismay on his face was so woeful, so comical that Claire burst out in a clear throaty laugh. Joe started and turned back to her. He scowled at her, which somehow made her laugh all the harder. Finally his expression cleared and as he looked around the room he joined her.

"Can you help me? We have to leave tomorrow and I don't know what to bring."

Claire smiled and moved to his side. She asked a few simple questions about the trip he was going on. Joe told her all about being asked to be a member of the wedding party. "I guess I'm just excited because I feel like I'm really a part of the family. Since mine is..." Joe stopped. What were they to him now? He hadn't heard from them in weeks.
Claire saw a look of sadness cross his face. She gently touched his hand and they began packing.
 

The trip to Duncan and Paul's parents estate was only a half day ride. Joe and Phillipe rode two of the horses they had been training while the rest of the family followed close behind in the carriage. Even little Jacques was coming, he was to be fitted for his first formal suit since he was to be ringbearer for his sister.

Their arrival at the plantation was greeted by a turning out of the entire family. Paul and Duncan's parents greeted everyone warmly, embracing Joe as a most welcome part of the family. Joe was impressed at the beauty of the plantation, the house was very different, being a long low house with many rooms and the house itself seemed to go on for miles. The DesVries family was installed in the guest wing. Phillipe, Joe and Jacques shared one room, Sylvie had her own and their parents had the third room. Phillipe and Joe were entertained during their unpacking by the endless chatter of Jacques who had questions galore for both men.

"So what will happen next Phillipe?" Jacques asked.

"Tonight we'll just have a quiet family dinner. Tomorrow we all get fitted for our new clothes for the wedding. Then late tomorrow afternoon we'll have a grand barbecue. Neighbors from miles around will come. Joe, this will be a great chance for us to drum up some business in this part of the territory."

Joe nodded his agreement. "Will we know anyone there?" He was feeling a little hesitant for some reason.

"You've met Sarabeth, well her sister Anne will be there as well."

"Anne?" Joe hadn't met her before.

"Yes, she's two years younger than Sarabeth. You'll like her Joe. We might be able to have some fun with all this look alike stuff. Anne and Sarabeth are as alike as you and I are." Phillipe grinned devilishly at Joe and Joe stared for a moment then broke into a broad smirk. He hadn't pulled a good prank in months. "Can I help?" Jacques was bouncing up and down on top of his bed.

"No." Both men said at the same time.

"I'll tell." Jacques shrieked.

Both men turned and grabbed Jacques before he could escape. Joe squatted down and put his hands on Jacques shoulders. Looking him square in the eye he said, "Do you really want to help?"

"Yes, I do Joe."

"You could get in trouble." Joe raised his eyebrow at Phillipe.

"That's Ok." Jacques jaunty nonchalance made Joe and Phillipe both laugh.

"Ok, then tomorrow night." The three curly brown heads huddled together and Joe laid out his plan. Snorts of laughter and high-pitched giggles rang out and the three shared a hearty laugh.

That evening's dinner was a stately affair. Sylvie sat decorously at the side of her future father-in-law with Paul on her other side. Everyone else was scattered and Joe found himself next to Duncan. Several times Joe saw Duncan watching Sylvie with a look he recognized. He had seen that look on his brothers' faces several times. Finally when Joe couldn't stand the sadness in Duncan's eyes he chose to distract Duncan with conversation.

"So Duncan, what is it you do?"

Duncan shrugged, "I'm a younger brother Joe. I don't do a lot. I help Paul with the running of the plantation, I do some business on the side."
 Joe nodded, that sounded like his life on the Ponderosa. Was that the lot of the younger brother, to work, to help but never to be in charge. He thought fleetingly of his Aunt Felicia's offer, he glanced down the table at her. Their eyes met and her sweet smile made his heart swell with love for her. How glad he was to be so loved.

"What do you love to do?" Joe asked Duncan suddenly.

"Love? What I love to do is," Duncan's voice dropped lower, "I love to write."

"Write what?" Joe asked.

"My secret dream has always been to be a newspaper writer Joe, but I love to write fiction as well. I've even written a novel." Duncan's voice was the merest whisper and Joe had to lean in to hear him.

"Really?" Joe was impressed. "Could I read it?"

Duncan's eyes widened. No one had ever asked to read his novel. His mother complained about his scribbling, his father merely scowled. He gazed at Joe's open honest face and interested expression. "Do you want to?"

"Yeah, sure I do. Maybe I could do it while I'm here."

"I'll get it for you after dinner."
"I know a writer." Joe responded. "His name's Sam Clemens. He used to run the newspaper in Virginia City. Now he's living out in San Francisco. He wrote a great story about a frog jumping contest once. It was so real I could see it right before my eyes. I could send him your novel if you like. Maybe he could help. Or you could bring it to him yourself."

"Oh Joe. San Francisco. I've read about it. I've dreamed about it. The wide blue of the Pacific, the golden hills, the whales...". Duncan grew dreamy at the thought.

"I've been there you know." Joe launched into a series of stories about his escapades in San Francisco, starting with his first trip when he was seven years old and got lost in an opium den. Soon the two men were laughing and enjoying each other.

Joe noticed that Sylvie was watching them both with a wistful expression as she was trapped in a serious conversation between Paul and his father.

The next day passed in a flurry of activity. Duncan had given Joe his novel and Joe snatched moments here and there to read it. He loved it, it was the most exciting thing he had ever read. He was dying to keep going but he had other duties.

The tailor spent the day with the men, fitting Joe, Phillipe, Francois and Jacques in matching suits. Joe found himself standing on a small stool in his underwear, feeling more than a little discomforted by the measurements being taken. Phillipe noticed a small scar on Joe's shoulder. "Joe where'd you get that scar?"

"Oh, it's where I was shot." Joe said simply.
 "Shot!" Phillipe was shocked. "Who shot you?"
"Adam, my brother." Joe could hardly remember what happened that day two years ago. "It was an accident, we were out hunting for a wolf and I walked into Adam's line of fire."

"Mon Dieu, Joseph, what a nightmare. To think we could have lost you without ever having known you." Francois' eyes filled with tears and he hugged his young nephew. Joe felt surprised. He felt so surrounded by love at that moment he felt that he couldn't take any more. He returned the hug with a fierceness that surprised them both and he felt he was home.

"Now Uncle, I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere."

That night at the party Joe and Philippe dressed carefully. Both wore matching pants and boots. Each put on a white silk shirt and a black string tie. Joe put on a blue cotton jacket, of such a fine cloth it felt almost of silk. Philippe put on a green cotton jacket. Throughout the first part of the barbecue they were careful to identify themselves to everyone they encountered, and made sure that Jacques often went up to each of them and called them loudly by name.

Phillipe greeted Sarabeth with pleasure when she arrived and kissed her gently on the cheek. Joe bowed and wickedly kissed her hand. He greeted her sister Anne with enthusiasm, she was very much like her sister and their dresses were both of a fine white silken cloth, which set off their creamy skin and pretty hair.

Half way through dinner Joe and Phillipe snuck off and exchanged jackets. They were both careful to avoid Sylvie, Duncan, Paul and Phillipe's parents. Since they had met everyone before dinner they had few problems fooling people. The jackets were how people had been telling them apart most of the evening. Few noticed the slight difference in height. They had solved the problem of accents by having Joe mimic Phillipe's accent the entire evening.
Phillipe readily cornered miss Anne not realizing he was being spied upon by his mother and doting Aunt Felicia, both of whom were far enough away to assume they were watching Joe pay court to Anne. Anne readily recognized him but vowed to keep his secret. She had secretly fancied Phillipe for herself and enjoyed flirting and the attention.

Felicia and Charlotte exchanged a rare knowing glance, "That is not a bad match Felicia" Charlotte gestured to the couple. "Anne comes from a fine family. He could do far worse."

Felicia nodded, "Perhaps. What an attractive couple they would make. Perhaps at the right time a double wedding?"

Charlotte nodded. For the first time she viewed Joseph as a potentially useful item. Perhaps they could control him, if she could break him.

Joe had readily cornered Sarabeth. Like her sister she easily recognized Joseph. That first kiss they had shared had thrilled her to her toes. She was more than willing to kiss him again, once they were out of sight of the others. "Now Joe, you mustn't muss me. We still have some dancing to do."

Joe laughed, "Oh really, now won't dancing muss you?"

"No, not like you could. Now behave and tell me why you and Phillipe are playing such naughty pranks."

"Just for you Sarabeth. I do so enjoy your company."

"As I do yours Joe. But remember I'm spoken for. Phillipe is my intended you know. Papa has it all set up."
"Perhaps we can change his mind." Joe leaned down and gently kissed Sarabeth on the lips. She gently parted her lips and he kissed her more deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth. He broke away from her and moved his lips over her cheek and down the side of her neck. She involuntarily arched herself against him then broke away.

"No Joe, we mustn't." Sarabeth looked at him, her expression regretful. Then she sighed as she looked at his lips. "Well perhaps just a little bit." They began to kiss again.

A while later Joe sent Sarabeth back to the party. He wanted to give her time to get well mixed into the party before he reappeared. As he moved carefully through the trees he saw Duncan and Sylvie in a tiny clearing ahead. Sylvie was in Duncan's arms sobbing and he held her close and gently patted her back.

"Sylvie, Mon cherie, please don't cry. I cannot bear to see you cry."

"Oh Duncan, please, please, we must find some way out of this."

"Sylvie, how can we do this? How can we hurt them all, Paul, my parents, your parents. It's just wouldn't be fair."

"Oh Duncan, I love you so much." Sylvie melted into Duncan's arms and kissed him with a great passion.
 Joe moved back into the trees and crept away. Perhaps he could find some way to help them. They were truly in love. Joe was a great believer in true love winning out.

As he returned to the party he sought out Phillipe. The two snuck away to switch back their jackets. "Phillipe, did you have a good time?"

"Yes Joe, I had a wonderful time. But I don't think we can do this again." Phillipe smiled at his cousin but his eyes were a little sad. Joe nodded.

"Joe," Phillipe looked at him and suddenly hugged him tightly.

"Phil" Joe was startled then hugged him back.

"Joe, I just want you to know, I love you like my own brother."

Joe smiled, "Me too."

Jacques bounded up to the two of them. "How'd I do? Did I do OK?" The two laughed and ruffled his hair.

"You did just fine. We fooled everybody. Now, let's go find some cake." Joe took one hand and Phillipe took the other and the three moved back to the party.

The next day they returned to their own home. Joe was surprised to find a letter waiting for him. He opened it quickly and scanned it.
 Dear Joe:

I got your address from Adam. Everything is fine here. Nancy and I both miss you and speak of you often. I've been seeing quite a bit of her lately. Don't know if it's serious yet but we're talking about it.

I saw your Pa in town yesterday with the widow Jenks. She moved to town a few weeks ago. Ma said she saw them together last week too. Seems like they're keeping steady company. She has a son our age, Todd. Hoss, Adam and I went drinking with him a few days ago. He got a bit rowdy and got into a fight with a guy in the bar. We broke up the fight and Hoss and Adam took him home, reminded me of how they always used to have to take you home after a long night in the saloons.

Todd, Hoss, Adam and I went fishing last week. He's got quite a bit of luck with a fishing pole. He caught more than the three of us combined. Todd and Katie have been kind of seeing each other a bit. Hope you are enjoying your visit. Don't worry about us, everything is just fine here.
 Lance.
Joe held the letter in suddenly shaking hands. They didn't even miss him. No one wanted him to come home. Hoss and Adam had found a new brother, with Pa courting this widow Jenks. They went fishing with him and drinking with him. Joe rubbed his hands across his eyes and stared briefly out the window. Suddenly it all became quite clear to him. He was meant to be here. Here was where he was loved and needed. He had two new brothers in Jacques and Phillipe and for once he was being treated as an equal, as a man. And if he told Aunt Felicia yes, in the spring he would have his own ranch, Belle Mer.

Felicia came down the stairs and was startled to see her young nephew in the hallway. "Joe, is anything the matter?"

Joe turned and smiled broadly at her. "Aunt Felicia, I've come to a decision. If you'll have me I would love to stay here with you and run Belle Mer."

Felicia embraced him warmly, kissing his cheek and holding her dear sister's son close. "It's all yours Joe. Welcome home."
 

A rider came up to the Ponderosa. It was a bitterly cold day in late October. Snow had already begun falling in the mountains and the trails were becoming treacherous. The rider dismounted and knocked on the door. Ben Cartwright opened the door. "William, come on in. It's cold as the dickens out today, what are you doing here?"

William Tally came in and soon found himself sitting in front of the fire warming himself. Hop Sing served him some fine coffee and he settled in to talk to Ben, Hoss and Adam.

"Ben, I just got back from a trip. Barely made it back with the snows coming so early like they have."

"Where you been Will?" Hoss asked.

Will hesitated, "Louisiana."

The three Cartwrights sat up and stared at him. "Yes Ben that's why I'm here. I thought I should tell you what happened to me there."

"Go ahead Will."

"Ben while I was down there my host took me to a fancy horse show outside of New Orleans. Well there was one pair of horse trainers who's horses were winning all the competitions. My host, Pierre, told me that these two men had started the business only a short time ago, but they were already snagging a lot of new customers including the governor of Louisiana and the mayor of New Orleans. Well at the end they introduced the two winners. Ben I just about dropped my jaw on the ground when I saw these two men ride out."
Will paused and sipped his coffee. He knew what was coming next would hurt all three of his friends. "The two men were so alike that at first I thought they were twins. They rode out on a pair of matching Arabians, both pure black. I'd never seen anything like it. They were dressed perfectly in white shirts, these shiny green vests and black riding pants and boots. The two performed a number of stunts then they came forward to receive their awards. When they turned to acknowledge the audience I realized that one of them had to be Little Joe. I'd know that face anywhere, even if there were two of him"

Ben nodded, he had been expecting this. "Yes, that must have been Joe and his cousin Phillipe."

"Ben, that's not what I wanted to tell you. In fact Ben when they introduced the business name it was J & P DesVries. And when the two men were introduced it was as Joseph and Phillipe DesVries."

Ben paled and looked at his two sons. Hoss and Adam both looked shocked. "Not Cartwright." Hoss rasped, his throat suddenly tightening.

"No Hoss, not Cartwright. At first I thought maybe it wasn't Joe. But Pierre told me that the cousin was from Virginia City." Will hesitated. He had more to say but didn't know how to say it.

"Go ahead Will, finish it."
"Well Ben, the two got their trophies and prize money and went off together. I saw and heard them laughing and I was sure that one had to be Joe. I'd know that laugh anywhere. I asked Pierre what Joe was doing there. He told me that he was the DesVries cousin and he was the new heir to Belle Mer, the Aumont estate."

"What?" Ben stood up, he was so shocked.

Will nodded miserably, "Pierre is Madame Aumont's solicitor. He told me that Madame Aumont had asked Joseph to run Belle Mer for her and she had begun making arrangements to make him her heir. Your Joseph is about to become one of the wealthiest young men in New Orleans. Madame Aumont's fortune is quite large, Pierre could not share exact details but I would say that the numbers could be in the millions."

"Millions," Ben gasped, clutching behind him for his chair. He sank down into it and buried his head in his hand.

"Ben, I didn't get a chance to talk to Joe, so many of the plantation owners were offering to do business with them, they were signing up customers left and right. It almost didn't seem to be him. His clothes were the very finest, he was handling himself like a man of business. Ben if I didn't know him like I know my own sons," Will broke off shaking his head.

"Will, thank you for coming out to tell us." Adam stood and shook Will's hand. Will stood and smiled doubtfully at all of them.

"I'm sorry Ben. I thought you needed to know. I left New Orleans the next day so I could beat the weather home. I barely made it. I'm sorry." Will left quietly. As he stood on the porch he shrugged his shoulders. He hoped he had done the right thing.

Inside the house Ben and his sons sat silently in front of the fire, each buried in his own thoughts.
Ben was overwhelmed. Joe giving up the Cartwright name hurt him deeply. He had known that Joe was angry, his letter had told him so. Obviously Ben's own letter to him had no impact. Joe had turned his back on them all. He never should have left him there. He was so young, so easily swayed. Marie's fear of her family had proven so true. Ben blamed himself.

Adam sat staring into the flames. Joe as a successful businessman was throwing him. Somehow when Adam had left for college Joe had become frozen in his mind as that little kid who had tagged after him, who he read stories to at night and held while he had a nightmare. The picture had changed his mind when it had come, seeing Joe as he was now alongside Jacques, so like Joe was as a child. Now hearing of Joe's success Adam was stymied. Joe's skill with horses had always proved useful and profitable. But that Joe in just two short months could go from being a stranger to owning a growing and successful business was beyond him. Adam saw his brother in a whole new light. How much of this could Joe have done here except for his two brothers blocking his path, however unintentionally with their treating him like a kid, and making him the butt of their jokes?

Hoss merely sat with his head buried in his hands. Joe, his Joe was lost to him. Joe had a new brother now, someone just like him. He didn't need Hoss anymore. Hoss could remember all the times he'd saved Joe from fights, from girls, even from himself at times. Now Joe was lost to him, he had become one of those fancy guys in their silk clothes and rich man's horses. He could see Joe so clearly riding that Arabian, mixing in with all those wealthy folks. Joe a millionaire. He never would have believed it. Hoss would never fit in. Joe would be ashamed of him. Hoss felt so alone.

The three men sat alone in the room together, the glue that held them together slowly dissolving under the burden of guilt and grief.
 

While preparations began in earnest for Sylvie's wedding, Joe and Phillipe got down to the business of training horses. They had several new horses to work with, including a difficult bay thoroughbred. This horse had resisted all it owner's attempts to break it to saddle, but it was a beautiful and valuable horse. If Joe and Phillipe failed, the horse would be good only for stud.

Joe perched on the top rail of the fence as he waited for Phillipe to bring the horse to him. In spite of how easily he had learned to ride English style, he preferred to break horses the way he always had on the ranch, by riding the horse until it responded to his direction—no matter how many times he was thrown. His pa said Joe could be as obstinate as any horse and the combination of skill and that stubbornness had made Joe into one of the best bronco busters in the territory.

The horse danced sideways, snorting and tossing its head, its eyes rolling wildly.

"Well, Joe, you're gonna have your hands full with this one," said Phillipe. Phillipe didn't mind carrying out the finer points of schooling the horse, after Joe had broken it to saddle. He was a fine horseman, but didn't have the necessary daredevil streak in him to ride a bucking, twisting horse whose sole intent was to dump him in the dirt. He was glad for his cousin's skill in breaking horses as Joe's method enabled them to do it more quickly and thus school more animals.

Joe slid one leg over the horse's back and sat down gingerly. He nodded at Phillipe, who released the horse's reins. Like a shot it took off, lunging, bucking and twisting.

Phillipe watched, his hands clenched in fear for his cousin. Suddenly the horse plunged forward, heading for the paddock fence. Joe was having trouble reining the horse in and Phillipe watched in horror as horse and rider crashed into the fence. Both went down with a loud crash as the boards broke under the horse. Phillipe dashed to his cousin's side, afraid he would find him crushed under the horse, which was already scrambling to it's feet. Joe lay on his back, gasping for breath.

"Joe, Joe, don't move!" Phillipe said as he knelt over his cousin.

Joe shook his head, clearing it and waved his hand at Phillipe. "I'm...ok... just... got the wind... knocked out of me." Joe sat up, breathing hard.
"That was a nasty fall" Phillipe said, with a look of concern. "are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah" said Joe. "I've been thrown into more fences than I can remember". He smiled ruefully at Phillipe. "Maybe that's *why* I can't remember. Give me a hand up".

Phillipe helped Joe to his feet. Joe stood, rubbing his back where a piece of board had scraped it. "OK, Phillipe, let's get him back in there, and try again."

Phillipe shook his head. He couldn't believe Joe was getting back up on that horse. He sure was a tough kid. Again, he was thankful that this part of the business was Joe's.

Two riders in military dress approached the paddock in which Joe and Phillipe were working with the bay horse. They watched as Joe began to ride the skittish animal around the perimeter of the fence.

"Isn't that the horse that belongs to Beauregard? I thought he gave up on ever getting that animal to be a saddle horse?" commented the first man.

"Looks like that kid has gotten him to wear a saddle. I've heard these two DesVries cousins were awfully good horse trainers. Hope they have time for me". The second rider dismounted and walked over to Phillipe and Joe. Joe swung his leg over the saddle and jumped down.

"Nice riding, boy" said the visitor. "I'm Captain John Williams, with the US Cavalry in New Orleans. Heard you boys train horses."

Joe and Phillipe shook his hand and introduced themselves. "you heard right," said Joe, looking at Phillipe and grinning.
"We have some fine ones, they're for our officers. But they are young and not even green broke. Would you boys be interested?"

"Would we!" exclaimed Phillipe. The men discussed the terms of the deal, and after the soldiers had ridden away, Joe turned to Phillipe and let out a loud whoop. "Can you believe it Phillipe? The Cavalry!" Phillipe threw his hat into the air. "We're on our way, cousin!"
 

At dinner, it seemed the entire family was out of sorts. Jacques whined and fussed about not being able to go out that day, since Joe and Phillipe had been too busy to take him anywhere. Felicia had retired to her room with a headache and Francois was at a neighboring plantation, making arrangements for the sale of the cotton crop. Phillipe had ridden over to Magnolia Mound to have a meal with Sarabeth and her family. Sylvie seemed unnaturally quiet and Joe wondered if she was thinking about her upcoming nuptials to a man she didn't really love. He watched her pick at her food and knew something was bothering her.

Joe was startled from his thoughts by a sudden outburst from his Aunt Charlotte. She put her fork down sharply. "Really, this meal is intolerable. This meat is as tough as old boots and the vegetables are old and overcooked. Mary," she demanded to the servant standing next to the table. "Get that worthless cook and bring her in here."

Joe looked up at his silent cousin, sitting across from him, and then foolishly decided to inject some humor into the tension.

"Shoulda got some Ponderosa beef, ma'am" he said, deliberately accentuating is western drawl. "Never a tough steak in the bunch" He grinned at his aunt and it died on his face instantly as she gave him an icy, withering stare.

The unsuspecting cook shuffled into the dining room and was assailed by Charlotte's description of the food.

"You are just lazy", she hissed at the cook. "Lazy and stupid. Well, the place for stupid people is in the fields, picking cotton. Get out of my house".

Joe swallowed hard. He had lost all interest in the meal, as had his cousins. The whole scene had made him ill. He stood up suddenly, almost knocking over his chair. "Excuse me" he said, throwing his napkin down.

"Can't blame him, I suppose" he heard his aunt say behind him. "I can't eat this either."Joe moved out to the back porch of the house. The family usually sat out front in the evenings, but Joe wanted a little time alone. He sat down stiffly on the steps and leaned against the jasmine-covered trellis. His body ached a bit from the beating it took today, and he just needed sometime to think. He rans his hands through his long curly hair and sighed.

The exchange at dinner made him think of Hop Sing. He couldn't picture his father ever speaking to Hop Sing the way Charlotte had spoken to that poor cook. He shook his head. Hop Sing was a part of the family and Joe missed him as much as he missed his brothers. More maybe.

Joe reflected on how much his life had changed in the last several months. He had thought his life was all planned out, that he would spend it all on the Ponderosa, probably marry some local girl and raise a family there. Now, here he was with a new family, a whole new life. He loved this life and this family, but sometimes... sometimes he missed home, too. On top of that, he wasn't sure what he was—a cowboy or a southern gentleman. His head ached with confusion over it all.

He thought of his father and brothers and he wondered if they missed him at all. From Lance's letter, it appeared that all of them were getting on fine without him. He sighed and closed his eyes. He hadn't heard from his father—he must have received the letter Joe had written. His father must be really angry to have not written. Joe opened his eyes and looked up at the black sky. Why didn't he think before sending that off? As usual, he had acted on impulse, without thinking.

He heard a rustle in the grass beside him and sat up and peeked around the trellis. He saw Claire walking slowly towards him, her eyes on the ground.

"Hey" Joe said.

Startled, Claire looked up and saw Joe. A shy smile broke out across her face. "Hello" she said.

"Mind if I join you on your walk?" Joe asked and without waiting for her reply, he stood up and fell in beside her.

"What are you setting out here for?" Claire wondered. "Family sits out front. The back here, it's for the servants".
"I know" Joe said. "I just wanted to be by myself for awhile".

"You're not by yourself now" Claire stated.

"I know, I don't want to be anymore... " Joe trailed off. They walked for a while in companionable silence, then Joe spoke up. "Claire... do you ever miss your family?"

Claire stopped and stared at Joe. "What kind of question is that?" she finally said.

Joe shrugged. "Just wondered..."

"My family is gone, suh. I don't even know were they're at. My ma was sold when I was nine—I don't have no idea where she is now. We all used to live at Magnolia Mound. Then the white man, he sold my mother. Later he sell my sister." Claire's voice had grown quieter as she told Joe of her family's disappearance.

"Why you ask? What do you care about a slave girl's family, rich young white man like you?" Claire asked suddenly, sounding bitter.

Joe held out his hand to stop Claire and then placed his hands on her shoulders, turning her towards him. "I'm sorry, Claire, I didn't know" he said softly. "I can't imagine what it would be like to have my family taken away and never see them again. "

Claire looked into Joe's face. She saw pain and sadness in his eyes. She didn't understand him. He was so unlike any of the other white men she had met. "Where's your family at, Mister Joseph?"
 Joe gave a half smile. "Stop calling me that. I'm just Joe, okay?" He began to walk again, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "They are back in Nevada. I guess they got plenty of other stuff on their minds, I ain't heard from them in a while." He tried to look as if he didn't care. Claire could see that he did, deeply.

"Who's "they"? Claire asked.

"My Pa and brothers. Adam and Hoss." Joe said, scuffing his boots in the dirt as he walked.

"They much like you?" Claire wondered.

"Nah, not too much" Joe said. "Hoss, he's a big guy, real gentle and he hardly ever gets mad. Adam, he's real smart. He and I, well, we fight a lot. He gets kinda bossy, but I suppose sometimes I deserved it."

"So what you doing here, if y'all got a family in Nevada?" Claire couldn't imagine leaving her family, if she ever found them.

"Well, the DesVries are my family too—my ma was one of them" Joe said. "And I guess I wanted to get to know them. It looks like I'll be staying here, but..." he trailed off and looked away.

"But you miss your pa and brothers, don't you?" Claire asked softly. She placed her hand on Joe's arm. Ordinarily, she would never consider such a gesture to a white man, but something about Joe made her feel safe. Unconsciously, he slipped his arm around her shoulders, and they continued their walk.

"It's just so different here. I mean, sometimes I feel like I really belong, and other times, I feel like I am way out of my class. There are so many rules and customs, I can't keep track of em all." He laughed softly. "Yeah, sometimes I really do miss the ranch, and my family, but I do love what I am doing here. I never had much chance to be good at anything at home. My brothers always stepped in and did things for me. I was always the wild little kid, they never thought I could do anything." Joe's face tightened as he remembered.
"You seem to be doing jus' fine here, all those folks bringing you them fancy horses to train" Claire said. "I watched you riding today, never saw anyone stick on a horse like that".

Joe laughed. "'Fraid I didn't stick on so well. My back's kind of sore from where it hit the ground." He smiled at Claire, glad for her company.

Claire returned his smile and thought that while he looked very much like Phillipe, she could also see the differences between them. Phillipe had never been cruel to her, but he didn't see her, never treated her as a person. She was like a piece of furniture to him and to the whole family. Claire had been alone so long she had forgotten what it was like to have a friend. She had heard tales from other slaves, slaves who had been North, who told of meeting white people who treated them with decency. She hadn't believed such people existed. Now, she wasn't sure.

"Tell me about this ranch. I never been out west, I spent my whole life right here" said Claire and she listened with rapt attention, as Joe described the clear blue lake, the crisp air and the pine forests.

"It sounds just beautiful," said Claire. "I hope one day..." She stopped and shook her head. "No, no it can't never be."

"What?" said Joe. "What can't ever be?" He thought for a moment and then realized what was troubling her. "Maybe I can take you there one day".

Claire looked at him incredulously. "No, don't say that. You can't ever take me there and you know it. They'd never stand for it. You know, you is right—you really don't know how it is here. You just leave me alone" she cried and turned and ran from Joe.

Once again Joe was left staring after her, a position he seemed to find himself in frequently lately. He debated about going after her, but he heard the door slam as she ran into the house. He shrugged his shoulders and went in.
 

Joe ambled into the parlor, where his Aunt Charlotte, his cousin Sylvie and Jacques were sitting and discussing the upcoming wedding. Joe flopped onto the couch and stretched his long legs out on it. Jacques, bored with the wedding discussion, immediately ran to Joe. "Joe, would you take me riding tomorrow? No one never has any time to do anything with me! Please, Joe!"

"Jacques" spoke Charlotte sharply. "It is long past your bedtime, please say goodnight to everyone. We'll talk about the ride tomorrow."

Jacques, glad the ride had not been prohibited, was nonetheless not pleased to be sent to bed and left as slowly as he could.

Joe laughed as he watched the little boy shuffle off. "He reminds me so much of myself at that age," said Joe. "I hated going to bed, but I always had to go first while my older brothers got to stay up."

"Sylvie, I would like to talk with Joseph privately if I may. Would you excuse us?" Charlotte spoke. Sylvie said goodnight to her mother and Joe and left, casting an anxious look at her mother.

Joe, unsure of what Charlotte was going to say to him, felt his insides tense up. For some reason, they seemed to have gotten off on the wrong foot. Earlier encounters Joe had with Charlotte had not been exactly pleasant.

Charlotte turned to him, her face pinched into a glare. "First, I'll thank you to remove your feet from my furniture. In the wilds where you grew up, your lack of manners may be entirely acceptable, but here we have fine furniture and I'll not have it ruined by your boots. You are a bad example to Jacques—he wants to imitate everything you do, and I won't have him acting like an uncivilized cowboy. You must be more mindful of how you appear here. Apparently, you Cartwrights have little understanding of how to act in decent society. If you want to be a DesVries, you need to start acting like a gentleman." Joe felt himself redden with anger and quickly dropped his feet to the floor with a thud. He straightened up in his seat, attempting to regain some dignity. "I'm sorry" he mumbled, biting back the angry words that were on the tip of his tongue.

"And you need to be more mindful of the company you keep. I saw you with that slave girl! You took a walk with her! People will certainly talk. The slaves know their place and I won't have you corrupting them, making them get uppity, giving them ideas that they are the same as everyone else. Is that clear?" Charlotte stood over Joe, looking down on him as if he was a small disobedient child.

Joe was seething with anger. She had been spying on him! How dare she! He glared at the floor.

"I also think you are exposing Phillipe to unnecessary risks. I saw you today, working with that wild animal" Charlotte continued. "This horse training business is a foolish waste of time—when Phillipe should be running the plantation. He could be killed. I saw that fall you took--you were lucky you didn't break your neck. Didn't your mother die that way? One thinks you would be a little more careful."

Joe paled as her words went through his heart like an arrow. He couldn't believe she was speaking to him this way. Barely keeping his anger under control, he stood up and walked over to his aunt. His hazel eyes were dark with anger as he stared down on her. His hands were clenched into fists. He spoke with an angry passion, his voice getting louder as his anger grew.

"Let me tell you something, Aunt Charlotte. We may not have as fancy manners as you, but one thing us Cartwrights do know is how to treat guests. Another thing we know is how to treat our help. The way you talked to that cook tonight—you treated her like she wasn't even a human being. And I'm not ashamed of being a cowboy—or of being a Cartwright.". He turned, and stalked from the room., slamming the door behind him for emphasis.
 

While Joe was defending the Cartwright honor to his aunt, another member of the family was working on plans to haul his young brother back to the Ponderosa.

"I'm goin' Adam, and there ain't a durn thing you can do to stop me". Hoss said, as he packed his clothes. "I miss Joe. I want to get him back here afore his head is so stuffed with fancy ideas he don't want nothin to do with us."

"Oh, now, Hoss, that's a fool idea." Adam said. "The mountain passes will be impassable by the time you get to them, if they aren't already. And just how do you propose to get our little brother back here, even if you do make it to New Orleans?"

"I dunno, Adam, but see if I don't. I'll hog-tie him if I have to. You and Pa, just standin' around, not doin' anything, that sure ain't gettin' him back here." Hoss' kind face had a determined set to it.

"What if he won't come?" Adam asked quietly. "Sounds to me like he is pretty happy there." Adam stood by the window, looking out. He could almost picture Joe riding up on Cochise at any minute.

"You know Hoss, there is another world out there, beyond this ranch. Maybe Joe has found his place in it. God knows I wish it were somewhere else, anywhere but the South, with its damnable institution of slavery. How can he be part of that?"
"I dunno, Adam. Maybe if you weren't always on him, he woulda come home with Pa."

"What's that supposed to mean, Hoss" Adam asked testily.

"It means if you weren't always on his back, always treatin' him like he was a dumb little kid, he might a been successful right here." Hoss shouted.

"Maybe if he hadn't always had you protecting him, he might have grown up and learned some responsibility and I wouldn't have needed to get on his back" Adam retorted. "Besides, what is so wrong with Joe leaving, anyway. At least HE gets to see civilization for once in his life. He is experiencing culture and learning that people actually walk the streets without wearing a gun! He's not marooned out here in a howling wilderness!"

Adam turned and left Hoss' room, angry with himself already for blowing up at his brother. He knew that Hoss was at least partly correct about Adam's role in Joe's decision to stay in New Orleans. He also knew that he had basically vocalized his own frustration at being away from the things he loved so much. He did understand why Joe wanted to stay. More than Hoss ever could.

As Adam came down the stairs, his father looked up from the newspaper. "What was all the shouting?" Ben asked. "With Joe gone, there sure hasn't been much of that lately. Can't say I miss it".

Adam sat down on the couch. "Oh, Hoss and I got into it. He has this fool idea of going to New Orleans to fetch Joe back here."

Ben grunted. "Since when does Hoss think he can make your young brother do anything he doesn't want to do?" Ben folded his paper and laid it on the table.

Adam said "I don't think it's a good idea—not only because travel is unsafe now, but because it seems for once Joe has found some happiness and some measure of success. Why tear him away from that?"
"Maybe because we want him back here" Ben said, looking at Adam intently. "I don't like what he is learning there, and you of all people Adam, should understand that. He is learning how to live a life of leisure, bought and paid for by men and women that his family owns."

Adam bristled. "Of course I understand that, Pa. I detest that he is part of it. I can't understand how he could condone it. I was never able to make him see how wrong it is to build an economy on the backs of people who get nothing for it. You know how we argued over this. But I also understand that he is finally experiencing the world and learning that there is a lot more to it than this ranch."

"Oh, good, so he can be as dissatisfied with it as your are, if he finally does return." said Ben dryly.

Adam shook his head. "Pa, you know I'm not dissatisfied. But I do miss certain things that Virginia City can't offer—music, plays, and political debate. I'm glad Joe is getting to experience some of these things. It will make him a better educated man."

Ben looked at Adam thoughtfully. "What really concerns me..." he trailed off and seemed to stare into space.

"What, Pa" Adam asked.

"What Will said... that Joe had dropped his last name. I don't understand it. It makes me think he wants nothing to do with us, that he is ashamed of who he is and wants to cut ties with us. I know he was angry at me, but I didn't expect anything like this. Marie told me that her family was very manipulative, very persuasive. I feel like I have delivered her son right into their hands, so that they may do whatever they want with him. They are teaching him their corrupt way of life, turning him against everything I taught him. They've turned his head with their money. I tried my best to teach that boy to do an honest days' work, and now he has slaves to do it for him. I just don't know Adam."
Neither of them had noticed that Hoss had come down the stairs.

"We ain't heard from him in weeks. You two want to just set there jawing', fine. I'm gonna go fetch him." And Hoss picked up his bag and walked out the front door, sending a blast of cold fall air and dead leaves into the room.
 

 Sam Clemens San Francisco November 5

Dear Sam:

I bet you are very surprised to hear from me. It's been a long time. I've moved to Louisiana and I'm spending the winter with my mother's family, the DesVries of Rivieux Rouge Plantation. It's been a bit of an adjustment, plantation life is not quite as rigorous as life in Nevada was. In the spring, I'll be running Belle Mer, my aunt's plantation.

The reason I'm writing is that I've discovered the most wonderful writer here. His name is Duncan Beauregard and his novel Magnolia Moon is the best I have ever read. And Sam you know me, I'm not the great reader you are. I'm trying to convince Duncan to either send you his novel or travel to see you himself. There are a number of family complications but I do think that meeting you would do Duncan a world of good.

So, don't be surprised if some day soon a young man comes knocking on your door and tells you Joe Cartwright sent him.

Be well my friend,

Joe Cartwright.
Sam Clemens stretched his legs to the top of his desk and reread the letter, twirling his newly grown mustache. Joe Cartwright living in Louisiana. Sam was flabbergasted. He thought of Little Joe as he had last seen him two years ago at his bon voyage party in Virginia City. Joe, just barely sixteen, had been perched cheerfully on the back of a couch talking and flirting with three lovely young girls. His two brothers had joined him and Sam remembered everyone laughing merrily while Joe seemed to cow his huge brother Hoss. Sam frowned, there was no mention of Ben, Hoss or Adam in the letter at all. The word moved told him that Joe was no longer with his family.

Sam signed and resolved to be on the lookout for young Joe's friend. Joe had been a huge help to him while he worked at the Territorial Enterprise. In fact Sam realized with astonishment, if given the choice he would in a desperate situation, always choose Joe of all the Cartwrights for his honesty, his courage, his passion and most of all his fierce loyalty. Sam shook his head, what must they have done to him to drive Joe away from his family.
 

Adam caught up with Hoss as he stormed out the door. "Hoss, wait a minute, think about this for a minute. Just how do you plan to get to New Orleans?"

"I'll find a way Adam, just get out of my way." Hoss spoke through clenched teeth. It took everything he had not to fling Adam out of his way.

"Hoss, I'm not letting you go. I won't let you do this to yourself or Joe."

"Adam, I'm doing this for Joe."

"No Hoss, you're doing this for yourself because you miss him. Look think about this overnight, it's too late today for you to be riding out today." Adam pointed to the slowly setting son.

Hoss reluctantly agreed and went back into the house. He would let Adam think he had won. Hoss had learned a thing or two from his younger brother.
 

Joe sat delicately balanced on a split rail fence surrounding one of their training rings. His back rested against the upright fence post and he carefully stretched his right leg along the rail while he held his left leg curled against his body, his arms wrapped around it. He was feeling relaxed and happy, basking in the warm sunshine while watching his cousin train one of the new horses sent to them by the territorial governor.

Joe was quite recovered from his fall of a few days before. What little stiffness he'd had was gone and he had been training horses himself up to an hour ago.

Phillipe carefully aligned himself in his saddle and took the horse through some preliminary exercises preparing him for his first jump. He maneuvered the horse through the ring then together man and horse executed a perfect jump.

Joe beamed at him from his perch. "Excellent Phil. That's the best one this morning."

"Thanks Joe." Phillipe smiled back. He was gradually becoming accustomed to Joe's habit of calling him Phil. "You ready to head in? It's time we get cleaned up for lunch."

Joe nodded and swung his legs around and leapt off the fence. He waited for Phil to hand the horse over to the small stable boy who stood patiently waiting close by. "Here you go Peter. You take care of him now." Peter nodded and carefully led the horse to the barn.

Joe watched the boy and horse go. "Phil, how old is Peter?"

Phillipe shrugged, "Six or seven I suppose, I don't really know."

"He's awfully young to be working with the horses the way he is."
"That's his job Joe." Phillipe grew wary, his father and aunt had both warned him to be cautious when speaking to Joe about the slaves.

Joe stopped abruptly. "His job? Phillipe he's only a year older than Jacques. How can you expect a six year old to have a job working with horses." Joe felt a stirring inside him, much as he had when speaking to Claire a few days ago.

"Joe, he's a slave. All our slaves have jobs. Each does according to his ability. Peter is very good with the horses. He works with the other boys and men. What would you have me do?"

Joe struggled with his growing sense of outrage. He began to speak then snapped his mouth shut. What would it accomplish to fight with his cousin. "Nothing I guess. I'm just worried that he's to small for this kind of work. He could be killed."

"Oh we wouldn't want that. I'll check on it later and make sure he can handle what he's given to do."

Joe was pleased, Phillipe did care about the child.

As the entered the house Jasper handed Joe a telegram. Joe stared at it and felt a small surge of hope, perhaps his father and brothers were missing him, ordering him home. The hope was extinguished as he tore open the envelope and quickly read the message. He smiled at the contents and turned excitedly to Phillipe, "It's from Mr. Beauregard, Duncan's father. He'd like one of us to come up there the day after tomorrow. There's a horse auction on Lake Maurepas and he wants to buy some horses and have us train them for him."

Phillipe's delight was evident on his face. "Joe, why don't you go? I promised father I'd help him with the books this week. Plus I know how much you want to talk to Duncan about his novel."
"Did you like it?" Joe had stayed up all night when he was finishing the novel then had passed it on to Phillipe.

"Joe it was one of the best things I've ever read. I enjoyed it as much as the novels of Mr. Dickens and Melville. "You need to tell him and let him know about the letter to Mr. Clemens. Perhaps you can convince him to send off the novel."

Joe agreed and they got cleaned up for lunch. At the lunch table Charlotte continued to ignore Joe. He still felt uncomfortable and angry around her but soon noticed that everyone else was just ignoring her. Francois endorsed the trip for Joe and arranged to have the carriage drive him to the Beauregards the next day.

"I want to go too,' Jacques suddenly howled.

"Jacques, behave." Charlotte voice cracked like a whip.

"No, I want to go with Joe, please Joe." Jacques turned his woebegone little face to his cousin, tears spilling down his chubby cheeks. Joe suppressed a smile, Jacques was so cute he was hard to turn down.

"Sorry Jacques, you can't come this time buddy. How about if I take you for a ride after lunch." Joe's attempts to pacify Jacques fell on deaf ears and the yelling turned to screams. Finally Daisy came in and scooped Jacques off. They all fell quiet as the shouts were heard fading away. A door closed somewhere in the house and silence reigned. Joe felt angry that Charlotte had not dealt with Jacques herself.

He was struck with a vivid memory of himself being slightly older than Jacques was but throwing a howling tantrum because he was not allowed to accompany his father and brothers on a trip to Carson City. Joe remembered how Hoss had picked him up and carried him off to his room. He had told Joe in no uncertain terms that he was not going to be allowed to go anywhere until he showed them he could behave himself at home. Hoss had stayed with him for several hours that day. A sudden and fierce longing for his brother caught Joe by surprise. Of them all he missed Hoss's simple uncomplicated companionship the most. His eyes filled with misery as he turned to his uncle who was calling his name.
"Yessir?" Phillipe started at the look on Joe's face.

"Joe, you mustn't worry about Jacques. He'll be fine. He just hates missing out on all the adventures." Joe nodded and his face leered as he pushed thought of his brother from his mind.

As Joe packed that evening a light tapping came on his door. Sylvia then entered and came to her cousin's side. "Joe, I have a favor to ask of you."

"Sure Syl anything."

She drew Joe over to the window seat and handed him a small but bulky enveloped. "Can you take this with you tomorrow and give it to Duncan?" Here eyes pleaded with him.

"Yes Sylvie, of course, but should you be doing this? I mean, you are getting married in less than two weeks. To Paul," He added for emphasis.

Large tears began to roll down Sylvie's cheeks and she flung herself into Joe's arms. "Oh Joe," she sobbed, "What am I going to do?"

Joe led her to the small settee and held her close as she cried. At last her tears had been exhausted and Joe held her away from him. "Sylvie, I know what everyone says, but its wrong for you to be marrying one man when you are in love with another."

She merely shook her head miserably. "Joe what choice do I have? If I defy my father he'll simply force me to marry Paul or he'll banish me to a convent just like.." She stopped and bit her lip in dismay.

"Like my mother." Joe finished her thought for her. "Sylvie, my mother loved her family very much. And it hurt her to leave them. She married her first husband for love and my father as well. She never regretted either one. He may not have told me the whole truth, but I do know my father loved her very much. If you and Duncan love each other, it can't be wrong."
"Joe, where would we go, what could we do? We have nothing but what our families give us. We'd be penniless."

"Let me talk to Duncan. If he agrees I'll help you both get away if you want."

Sylvie's face was a mass of jumbled emotions - hope and despair warred across her face. "Joe what would you do?"

Joe smiled, "Sylvie, I once defied my family for a girl I loved. We were to marry but she was killed. I never regretted what I did. If we had been able to follow through with our plans I would have been the happiest man alive, because I would have the woman I love at my side. The money, the houses, everything means nothing if you aren't with the people you love."

"Do you love us Joe?" Sylvie asked, her eyes dry again.

"Yes, Sylvie I do. And I love my father and brothers too. But they've decided not to communicate with me. I guess they don't accept that you are all a part of my life too. I guess they've moved on without me." Joe's lips briefly trembled and he pressed them firmly together.

"Oh Joe," Sylvie embraced her cousin hard. "Joe, tell Duncan everything. If he agrees we'll elope. Oh thank you."

Sylvie slipped out of Joe's room and he turned back to his packing his mind busily plotting Duncan and Sylvie's escape.
 

Hoss rode Chubb along the fence line, checking to see if the cattle were still secure. He had the collar of his coat turned up to protect his face and neck from the chill wind, but he felt nothing. It was after noon when he turned Chubb to go back to the Ponderosa. Chubb moved slowly as if sensing his master's reluctance to return.

Hoss had been miserably unhappy for days. The fight he had with Adam and his father the day he had tried to leave had created an uncomfortable silence between the men. No matter what was said Hoss's anger still smoldered. "dadburnit Chubb, why'd Pa have to go off and leave Joe alone down there in New Orleans. He's bound to get in trouble - what with all that money he's got, fancy women, gambling, drinking. He'll get some fella all mad at him and end up fighting in a duel. Probably get himself killed." Chubb nickered softly.

"You should see that picture he sent us. I was looking at it last night. He don't look like Joe no more. You know what Chubb I waited long enough. They ain't watching me as close no more. I'm going to get him tonight."

As they approached the house Hoss saw Hop Sing emerging from the hen house. "Hop Sing." Hoss called. Hop Sing waited patiently for Hoss to draw near.

"Yes Mister Hoss."

"Any letter today?" Hoss's face was hopeful. Hop Sing's regretful shake of the head killed that hope.

"You hungry Mr. Hoss? Hop Sing make vely good dinner, steak and rice." Hop Sing knew Hoss missed Joe, he missed him as well.

"Sounds good Hop Sing. I'll be along in a bit." Hoss stabled Chubb and stopped on his way out to pat Cochise. Cochise nudged him quite firmly and fixed him with a steady look.

"Cochise, he'll come back. I'm going to go get him tonight. He'll be back before you know it."
The dinner table was relatively silent, the empty chair a constant reminder of Joe's absence. Finally Ben broke the silence. "Boys, we've all been brooding too much." His voice was surprisingly firm and clear. "Your brother is gone for the winter. We have to accept that. In the spring I'll go to New Orleans and see what I can do about fetching him home. In the meantime we have a ranch to run."

Adam nodded in agreement, "What brought this on Pa?"

"I was in town today and spoke to Roy Coffee. Will told him what he'd seen and heard in Louisiana."

"Yeah, so?" Hoss's tone was almost insolent.

"So Roy wanted to know why I didn't ride down there and drag Joe back by his ears. And I realized that won't work anymore. Joe's a man now, he does have the right to make his own decisions and choices. I can't make him do anything. But I can go see him in the spring and make him understand what happened with his mother. The choice, the decision will be his.

"But Pa,' Hoss sputtered. "By spring he could be married, he'll be running that whole plantation, ain't no way he's gonna give that up."

Adam shook his head, he continued to be amazed at Joe's luck. "Isn't it just like Joe, he goes for a visit and they give him his own plantation. I don't know how he does it." Adam found himself fighting down a strong feeling of envy. Joe was seeing a whole other part of the world and from all reports thriving. How often he had longed to escape himself.

"Tweren't luck Adam. I don't blame them for wanting to keep Joe there." Hoss pushed himself back from the table. "I ain't hungry Pa, excuse me."
Two pairs of dark eyes watched him go up the stairs. "I'm worried about him Adam."

"Pa, he's just mad. You just aren't used to Hoss being the angry one. Usually Joe's the one storming off."

"I know, I know. First there's the shouting, now the angry words and the not eating. What's next?"

In the middle of the night Hoss crept down the stairs to the living room. He placed an envelope on his father's desk then grabbed his hat and gunbelt. He opened the front door slowly and slid out closing it silently.

He crossed the yard stealthily, casting furtive glances back at the still darkened house. When he entered the barn he was surprised to see a lantern flickering in Cochise's stall. He hesitated between escaping back to the house and waiting until later to flee and investigating. Finally curiosity won out and he went to the stall. Peering in he saw Hop Sing sitting in the straw, Cochise's head nuzzling his check as he sobbed. Hop Sing held Joe's green jacket in his arms.

"Hop Sing, what in blazes are you doing?"

Hop Sing's face was in perfect misery. He looked up at Hoss and shook his head mutely.
 Hoss entered the stall and sat down next to Hop Sing. Putting a gentler arm around the tiny man he comforted him as best he could. After several minutes Hoss repeated his question.

"Why Little Joe no come back, Mister Hoss? He know Hop Sing here, Hoss Here, Cochise here, Jacket here. Why he not come back?"

"I don't know Hop Sing. But I'm gonna go get him. I'll bring him back." Hoss made a move as if to stand up. Hop Sing suddenly grasped his hand.

"No Mister Hoss. Please don't. If you go only make things worse. Then Mr. Cartwright and Mister Adam feel even guiltier. You break their hearts." Hop Sing paused, "And mine."

Hoss was touched. He struggled to control his own emotions. Was he being selfish, sneaking out this way? He wanted Joe back and had been prepared to go get him, no matter what the personal cost. He hadn't cared about the cost to his family or everyone else who cared about him. He sighed. It had been a foolhardy gesture at best. "Oh Hop Sing, I'll stay." He hugged the tiny man and helped him to his feet. As they turned he saw his father smiling at him from the doorway.

"Welcome home son.
 

Joe's trip to Tezcuco was relatively uneventful. He was greeted warmly at the house by Mr. and Mrs. Beauregard. Joe felt a twinge of guilt at what he was planning to do in the face of their gracious welcome. He settled into his room and joined the family for dinner. Joe, Mr. Beauregard and Paul discussed the auction in detail, Joe identifying what Mr. Beauregard's objectives were for the horses he was planning to purchase.

"So we're agreed six horses, two for hunting and showing and four for general riding."

"Perhaps two more for drayage as well?" Paul inserted.

"Done." Joe nodded decisively in agreement. "Will you and Duncan be accompanying us tomorrow Paul?"

"Duncan will. I have some important affairs to attend to." Paul smiled broadly and Joe wondered at what he found so amusing.

"We'll head out bright and early, we best make an early night of it." Mr. Beauregard rose and escorted his wife from the room. Paul followed shortly.

"Duncan, can you come with me a moment. I want to give you your novel." Joe rose and led Duncan down the long hallway to the guest wing.

"So Joe, what did you think of it?" Duncan was eager to hear Joe's opinion. He had suppressed his impatience with the tedious business conversation throughout dinner. He could not bear to wait a moment longer.

"Duncan, it's the best I've ever read. Phillipe agrees. You kept me up all one night, then him up the next. I've written to my friend Sam Clemens in San Francisco. I told him you'd be showing up one day soon, novel in hand.

"Oh Joe, that's just a dream."
"Yes it is, it's your dream. Yours and Sylvie's."

Duncan's eye lit at the mention of Sylvie name. "Really Joe? She told you that."

Joe silently handed Duncan Sylvie's letter and the note she had written after their talk. Duncan read greedily, drinking in every one of his love's words.

"You'll help us Joe? You'll help us elope?" His face fell. "But how can your defy your family in this way?"

"If we do it right they won't know I'm involved at all. I can't bear to see two people I care so much about to be in such pain."

"What if they do find out?"

"Would you go back to the Ponderosa?"

Joe hesitated, he didn't see how he could. His father's silence and Lance's letter told him his family had put him aside. "No, I don't think so. I have some friends, not too far from San Francisco in California. I could go to them for a while, I keep promising to visit. Then I could go to San Francisco to see you, Sylvie and Sam. Then maybe I could get on board a clipper ship and see the world. "Joe's eyes grew slightly dreamy. Adventure sparked his soul. How he'd always longed to roam the world, to satisfy his restless spirit with an endless array of new sights and sounds. He drew himself back, he had an obligation here to his Aunt Felicia and he didn't want to disappoint her. But someday.
"Joe you'll be welcome in our house anytime. No matter how little we have, it will be yours to share."

"Duncan, I think you two will do fine. Sam will help publish your novel and should be willing to take on as a writer, he's always looking for new ones."

"But how will we do this?"

"After the auction tomorrow I'll be heading back to Rivieux Rouge. You need to get together as much money as you can. Then you'll all be coming to us the week before the wedding. I'll have Sylvie ready and the first night there you can elope to New Orleans in the carriage.You'll need to take a stage across the Southern route to the Pacific, then head north to San Francisco that way you'll avoid the snow. Bring simple sturdy durable clothes, these fancy duds won't be of much use in a city like that to a working man. And make sure you carry all your cash and jewels in a money belt."

"Joe how do you know all this?"

Joe smiled, "Oh, I've gone off a time or two before. These friends in California, I left home a year ago and got a job as a hand on their ranch."

"Why'd you go?" Duncan and Joe were sitting cross-legged on Joe's bed speaking quietly. It reminded Joe of all those late night chats with Hoss.

"Oh, I'd been out raising Kane and I overheard them talking about how I was just a rich man's brat. I was humiliated and ashamed so I left."
Duncan's eyes widened. "You Joe, but you're the hardest worker I know. Look at what you've done, in just a little over two months you've taken what was a tiny horse-breeding hobby of Phillipe's and turned it into a thriving business. How could they think of you as a a brat."

"Because I'm the youngest." Joe said simply. "And I like to do things my own way. I don't want to spend my life doing chores. I want to do big things, that impact lots of people, that people can see."

Duncan nodded, "Yes me too. The plantation will always be Paul's. Unless I get away I'll be no better than your Uncle Lucien, chasing women, gambling on borrowed dollars. Now there's a rich man's brat."

Both men grew somber, thinking of Lucien, there but for the grace of God. "Joe, I want to thank you for helping Sylvie and me. I'll be good to her."

"Just make her happy Duncan."
 

Joe, Duncan and Mr. Beauregard left for the auction early. They drove along the lake and Joe marveled at the difference between this very greenish looking lake, surrounded as it was with rich dense vegetation and the clear blue of Lake Tahoe.

The rode up to the auction and found the grounds bustling with activity. The horses were the first to be auctioned off. Joe had done a rapid walk through, making notes on the horses he would be recommending to Mr. Beauregard. He personally examined each horse's hooves, legs and teeth. Two he selected Joe examined and rejected as being too old. One Joe particularly favored was a small golden mare, a palomino.

"Don't need her my boy. But you can buy her of course."

Joe examined the mare closely, if she bred true and was crossed with a fine stallion of similar coloring it would create some lovely ladies horses, as ladies often favored horses with this coloring.

As the bidding began, Joe and Mr. Beauregard participated actively. Joe reassessed each horse as he watched it move into the ring. He advised Mr. Beauregard in a soft voice throughout the auction, indicating when to bid and when to abandon individual horses. When the golden mare came up Joe bid for himself and easily won her. He was surprised until he realized that the mare was of a sturdier stock than many of the thoroughbreds that sold that morning. H wondered at a society that could value the more delicate highly strung horses but considered himself lucky. At the end of the auction they had eight new horses. Joe stood, prepared to leave, but was drawn back down into his seat.

"Son, I need to get some new stock for the fields. Can you wait and we'll head home together?"

Joe nodded mystified.
The auctioneer stepped up and gestured to his assistant. The young man went back and brought out a tall man, his hands at his side, head bowed. As the auctioneer began his chant, describing the man.

Joe could feel his heart begin to sink. A slave auction, he was actually at a slave auction. He felt his limbs turn to lead and he watched sickened as a series of men, slaves, were sold to the highest bidder. He wanted to turn and run and hide, just as he had so many years ago when he had attended his first hanging. But his pride had kept him still then and his pride kept him there now. He tried to look at other things, the face of the auctioneer, the bidders, the others in the audience. These were not evil men. This was their every day way of transacting business, of keeping their plantations going.

But Joe's eyes were constantly drawn back to the men being sold. He couldn't help it. He noticed how some held their head high, aloof and untouchable, spirits unbroken. Some held their heads low, tired and weary.

At long last it was over, Mr. Beauregard had purchased four new hands. While he went to pay for his horses and slaves Joe and Duncan went to get a drink of tea.

"That was your first?" Duncan was regarding Joe with sympathy.

Joe's cheeks were pale and his normally bright smiling face was somber. "Yes." Joe didn't need to ask what he meant.

"That's one of the things I will not miss in San Francisco. I hate watching men be treated as chattel."

Joe nodded.

"But Joe, if you're going to be running Belle Mer you are going to have to get used to it. There is no other way for these plantations to survive. They are cheap labor. Of course different men run their plantations different ways. My father treats his slaves very well - they are fed, clothed and never abused. Other men, well they take liberties. Like Mr. Kenner." Duncan paused and his eyes flew to Joe's face.
 "What about Mr. Kenner?" Joe turned to Duncan and grabbed his arm.

"Joe, I'm sorry, I know about you and Anne."

Joe was startled, "What do you mean Anne?"

"Well mama told me that your aunts were already talking to Anne's mother about a match for the two of you."

"Duncan, I'm not interested in Anne, it's Sarabeth I'm interested in."

Duncan shook his head, "Joe, Sarabeth is for Phillipe, surely you must understand that by now. She is the oldest as is Phillipe. It's been arranged for ages."

Joe grimaced. How he hated these arranged marriages. "Well, I'm not marrying Anne, I don't care what my aunt says. And what about Mr. Kenner?"

"Joe, Mr. Kenner, well he takes liberties with his female slaves." Duncan dropped his voice to a whisper, "They say half the slaves on his plantation are his own children. Why you've got one there at your place."

"We do."
"Yup, name of Claire. There was a big fuss, her mama was Mr. Kenner's favorite. When they sold Claire away from her she screamed and screamed. Finally they say she hung herself."

Joe flinched away in horror. "Claire is Sarabeth's sister?" He was overcome. But that's an abomination - to sell your own children into slavery.

"Joe that's the way of some plantations. You will be able to decide how Belle Mer will be run, but it will be up to you to see that the plantation survives."

"Maybe it shouldn't survive, maybe none of them should. Not like this."

"Maybe not, but this is not a battle you can take on alone, and against your family. No Joe, you have to think hard about what you are going to do."

Joe sighed. In the course of just a few days his life had become so jumbled again. When he had decided to stay it had all seemed so clear. Pa, Hoss and Adam had turned away from him, his new family wanted him very much. He had a role to play here now - Phillipe's partner, Felicia's heir,nephew, cousin, friend, just as he had once been son and brother. The choice he was making to help Sylvia and Duncan and the decision he was faced with on how he would work with the slaves could make this new role impossible. And how could he face Claire and Sarabeth again? What would he do if this were to end? Joe ran his fingers through his hair, he just didn't know anymore.

Joe rode silently along the sandy road, his horse's hooves making a soft clopping sound in the dirt. Cicadas hummed in the heat and Joe wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his hand. Even in early November it was sticky. As he rode, his mind kept going back to the scene he had witnessed yesterday at the auction. Families being separated, children taken from their parents.

He shook his head and wondered just how he would run Belle Mer without slaves. Phillipe had told him enough of how Rivieux Rouge was run for Joe to understand there was not enough profit in cotton in order to hire the vast numbers of workers needed to harvest it. Perhaps he could make a go of some other enterprise there. He would have to get his aunt's approval on that, and Joe knew she would be reluctant. Besides, he would only be a 25% partner at first, he certainly could not take over and dismiss the slaves. And what other business would support a plantation? The horse business was all well and good, but a training enterprise would not bring in enough profit. Joe sighed. He really didn't know what to do.

As he rounded the corner, he realized he was near Magnolia Mound. He smiled to himself. Perhaps he should stop and see Sarabeth, some light conversation and fun might improve his spirits a bit. He smiled to himself and urged his horse to a canter.

Joe rode up the long oak tree lined drive and handed his horse's reins to the stableboy. Joe dashed up the front steps and rapped the knocker on the door, removing his straw hat.

A servant answered and looked at Joe disapprovingly when he said he wasn't expected, but sighed and shuffled off to find Sarabeth.

As Joe stood in the hall, looking around him, he was surprised by a peal of laugher behind him, and a pair of arms being wrapped around his waist. He turned and looked down on Sarabeth's pretty face.

Why, Joseph Cartwright, it's about time y'all showed up round here. I declare, I thought you had forgotten about little ol' me." Sarabeth looked up at Joe with her large violet eyes and smiled coquettishly. Joe's heart melted. "Hey, never!" He took her hands in his and the two of them walked out to the veranda. Sarabeth asked for some ice cold lemonade to be brought and they sat, sipping it and talking. Sarabeth looked sideways at Joe, frustrated that she was promised to Phillipe. Suddenly she stood up and said "Joe, I'm tired of sittin' around this ol' house.. would you take me for a drive?"
 

The carriage rolled smoothly over the sandy path around the perimeter of the plantation. Sarabeth chattered away, telling Joe about upcoming parties and the holidays season. She saw a shadow cross his face briefly, at the mention of Christmas, and she put her hand on his arm.

"Did I say something?" she asked.

"No, no, it's nothin'" Joe said, shaking his head and attempting to laugh it off. It was a nice afternoon, he was with a pretty girl and he didn't want to spoil it with depressing thoughts of his home and family. Besides, he thought, this is home now.

As the carriage rounded a bend, Joe saw two men about a hundred yards away. Suddenly, to his horror, he saw the younger man raise his arm as if to strike the older man—and in his hand was a whip. The man brought the whip down with a crack on the older man's back. Joe yanked the horses to a halt and lept from the carriage, oblivious to Sarabeth's protests. He raced across the field towards the two men and launched himself at the man with the whip. He tackled him and the two men rolled in the dirt as Joe struggled to take the whip from him. The man managed to catch Joe in the face with the whip, and Joe rolled away in pain. He attempted to tackle the man again, but was stopped by the crack of the whip in front of him.

"See here, just who are you, butting in here!" cried the man with the whip. The old slave watched, wary.

"What the hell are you doing to that man" Joe said, his eyes angry and his fists clenched. "You trying to kill him?"

"Mister, it ain't none of your business what I'm doing." the man turned as he saw Sarabeth hurry to Joe's side. "Miss Sarabeth... this kid a friend of yours? Best tell him to mind his own business before someone minds it for him." He grabbed the old slave by his arm and said "go on, git back to work, before I do it again". Both men walked off down the rows of cotton.

Sarabeth gasped and said "Joe, you're hurt. Let me see that." She caught Joe's chin in her hand and took out her handkerchief and wiped a bit of blood off his face. "It doesn't look too bad, should be all healed up in time for the wedding." She smiled nervously at Joe as she cleaned up the cut.
"I'm fine" he said, pushing her hand away and scowling. "Who was that?"

"That was Jim Clarkins, our overseer. Joe, it's his job to keep the field hands in line and working. Why did you have to go and hit him? He will certainly tell papa, and now my parents will know we were out here together. They will be very angry, with me and with you, since I should only be out with Phillipe."

"Is that all you can think about?" Joe shouted. "Your overseer was beating another man—don't you even care? Is this how your family treats the people that work for you? I heard..." he stopped himself. Even in his anger, he could not tell Sarabeth what Duncan had confided about her father.

"Let's go" said Joe. Without waiting for Sarabeth, he strode back to the carriage. He drove her back, hearing her sniffle beside him. He knew it wasn't her fault, really, but it angered him that she just accepted the mistreatment of others as a way of life.

Sarabeth got out of the carriage, looking over her shoulder at Joe wistfully. His anger had frightened her a little, because she knew it would lead to no good. She was also very worried at what her parents would say. It was bad enough that she had been riding alone with Joe, but when her father heard he had interfered in plantation business, she knew her father would be very angry with Joe. She walked up the steps slowly, unhappy with Joe for spoiling an otherwise wonderful afternoon, and for landing her in trouble with her parents.
 

When Joe arrived at Rivieux Rouge, he immediately went upstairs to clean up for dinner. He quickly stripped off his dusty travelling clothes and splashed water on his face and hair. He looked at his face in the mirror and sighed. The red stripe ran from his cheekbone to his nose, and looked just like what it was, a whip cut. He shook his head and wondered how he would explain it. He sensed that his family would be displeased with how he acquired it, to say the least. He quickly dried off, dressed and hurried downstairs.

After dinner, Francois motioned Joe to join him in the study. "Haven't seen much of you lately, my boy". Francois said, putting his arm around Joe's shoulders. "How was that auction?"

Joe wondered wildly which part of the auction his uncle was referring to."Fine, uncle, fine. We found some great horses for the Beauregard's, and I bought a pretty little palomino mare there, too".

Francois settled himself behind his large oak desk and lit a cigar. "Would you like one, Joe? They're wonderful, imported from Europe."

Joe shook his head and smiled weakly, remembering the time he and Hoss had tried to smoke a cigar. It had ended with thirteen-year-old Joe getting sick to his stomach and Hoss laughing at his brother's discomfort. Joe had never been interested in trying them again, somehow.

"What happened to your face?" Francois asked, with a sudden directness that reminded Joe of his father. "Did you get in a fight?"

"Um, well," said Joe. "Sort of" He said no more, hoping that his uncle would not press the issue, but of course it served only to interest his uncle further.

"What happened, Joseph?" Francois asked.

Joe shook his head. "It was nothing, Uncle Francois, really".
"Joseph, that looks like the mark of a whip on your face", Francois said. "That's not nothing. Now I would appreciate a full account of what happened."

Joe sighed and looked at the floor. He knew his uncle would be displeased with him. This whole scenario felt intimately familiar. Joe figured he must have spent half of his life confessing to one impulsive mistake or another.

Slowly he told his uncle what had happened at Magnolia Mound. He avoided his uncle's eyes, knowing what he would see in them—disappointment and anger. He studied the patterned rug as if he had never seen one before. He heard his uncle shift in his chair.

"Joseph, I was afraid something like this would happen. Charlotte warned me this afternoon that you were too much your mother's son. It seems she was right about that."

At the mention of her name, Joe stiffened in anger. He turned toward his uncle, his eyes flashing.

Francois held up his hands. "Don't say anything Joseph. I must explain that. We have had this trouble once before, this family, only it was with your mother." The older man stood up from his chair and paced around the room, puffing on his cigar. "You wondered why she was not spoken of by my father—it was not entirely because she eloped with a man that my family did not think was suitable. Jean DeMarigny was unsuitable, not because he was the youngest son and would not inherit, as you were told. No, he was something much worse. An abolitionist. He stirred up trouble among planters and among the slaves. Your mother fell in love with him, and with his radical ideas. At first, they were merely outspoken at parties and such. Of course, my parents thought it was completely inappropriate for a young woman of Marie's background to involve herself in political arguments. But she did not listen. No, Marie never listened, she did exactly what she wanted to do." Francois seemed lost in his memories of another time.
"She caused my parents terrible pain. Jean, and no doubt Marie, began helping slaves to escape from this plantation. My father found out about it and shipped Marie to the convent school. Of course, she ran off and married Jean, it was the worst thing my father could have done. I wish I could have done something, but Charlotte and I were not long married ourselves. Many old friends were not speaking to us. Jean and Marie were not accepted in any decent New Orleans home. It has taken many years to repair the damage".

Francois turned to Joe. "I cannot have this happen again Joseph. There is simply too much at stake here." He let his nephew digest what he had been told, watching Joe's face as conflicting emotions showed themselves.

Joe said nothing. Inside, he felt a fierce pride in his mother. She had stood up for these people who were, in his opinion, treated like animals. For the first time since she died, Joe felt an emotional connection with her other than sadness, and it threatened to overwhelm him.

Francois did not like what he saw in Joe's eyes. He thought he had never looked so much like his mother as he did right now—the stubborn expression was exactly the same. He kew he must speak carefully, or his words could have the same effect on his nephew that his father's had on Marie so many years ago.

"Joseph, Felicia and I, and your cousins all love you very much. We feel so fortunate to have found you after all these years. Felicia is thrilled that you will be operating Belle Mer for her. And the horse training business has been wonderful for Phillipe—it has given him such accomplishment--you too, of course. We want so much for you to stay. But you must try harder to accept our way of life, to fit in. I know it must be hard for you in some ways, you were not raised here. Your way of life must have been very different. But you must learn to respect if not understand, our way of life here, if you wish to remain."

Joe still said nothing. He barely looked at his uncle, not wanting to catch his eye. His mind was a jumble of emotions and he didn't know what to think at the moment.

"One more thing, Joe" said Francois. "It's ah... a rather delicate subject." He cleared his throat. "The matter of the slave girl Claire".

At the mention of her name, Joe looked up and held his uncle's gaze. "What about her" he demanded loudly.
"Don't take that tone with me, Joseph" said Francois, his temper beginning to flare a bit. "I just wanted to tell you, you can do whatever you want with her, but for God's sake be discreet. No more strolls around the plantation with her. Do you understand? Charlotte sent her into the fields today, so that there would be less chance of the two of you meeting on such a casual basis."

Joe was livid. "Don't punish her—she didn't do anything, it was my fault, I asked her..." He was breathing hard, his eyes cold.

"Joseph, I will not discuss her further. You have a great deal to think about, I suggest you do so, son." Francois spoke in a firm tone that indicated the discussion was over.
 

Joe went outside to get away from everyone, to clear his head. He was confused and angry, and now he felt guilty for the trouble he had brought down upon Claire. He walked aimlessly, his hands stuffed in his pockets, his shoulders drooping. He soon found himself on the dirt path that led to the slave camp. It dawned on him that he must find Claire and apologize to her for the problems he had caused her. As he walked into the ramshackle group of cabins, he was aware of several people staring at him. He asked a woman who was cooking over a fire where Claire was and was told to wait. He stood scuffing his feet in the dirt, until he heard a familiar voice call his name.

"Joe" Claire said, smiling as she walked up to him.

"Hi, Claire" Joe said, aware of the interest they were creating. "Um, can we go somewhere and talk?"

She nodded and they both walked off into the shadows. They walked quietly for a few minutes until they reached the shore of the lake. Joe climbed up on a large rock and then reached down and helped Claire up and they sat side by side, watching the moonlight glitter on the water.

"Claire," Joe spoke first. "I wanted to say that I'm sorry for getting you in all that trouble. I cost you a better job and I'll make it right somehow." He turned and looked at her, his eyes pleading.

"It's alright, Joe" she said. "It ain't your fault. 'Sides, knowing you're my friend is more important." She gave him a reassuring smile and he gave her shoulder a squeeze.

Joe sat staring out into the water, his knees drawn up and his arms wrapped around them. His mind was still in turmoil.

Claire sensed something was bothering Joe and she had a pretty good idea what it was. "I heard what happened today, Joe" she said.

"You did? How did you hear already?" he questioned.
"We have our ways, there ain't much that doesn't get by the house servants." she laughed, and Joe gave her a lopsided grin.

"That why your face is cut?" she asked.

"Yeah, fraid so" Joe leaned his elbows on his knees and rested his chin in his hands.

Claire put her hand on Joe's arm. "Y'all are something pretty special" she said to him, looking down and feeling a sudden shyness.

Joe turned and looked at Claire, almost as if seeing her for the first time. He swallowed hard. She was looking at him shyly, but there was no mistaking what he was seeing in her eyes. He felt his heart beat faster and he leaned down to kiss her. His kiss was gentle and warm, as if he was afraid he would frighten her. He pulled away from her lips and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. After a few minutes, Joe said, "I'd better get you back, huh?" and helped Claire down off the rock. They walked hand in hand in the moonlight back to the slave quarters.
 

Little Joe came back from his walk with Claire with mixed feelings. He liked being with her but he remembered his uncle's warning. What was he supposed to do now? His mind briefly flew to his first visit to the Swamp and the beautiful Chantal. He could have Claire as easily as he'd had Chantal, but he didn't want that. He really liked Claire and he sensed that she really was starting to care about him. He thought of Sarabeth, how he enjoyed her spark, her teasing. But he knew that Sarabeth was not happy with him at all right now, he shuddered to think what might happen if her father found out what had happened. It struck him anew quite suddenly that Sarabeth and Claire were sisters. Two very different women but both in some way forbidden to him here, yet at home... He paused, he could see there might be problems for him with Claire in Virginia City. No, at home he would be sparking Sarabeth, having a great time. Joe frowned, feeling more confused than ever.

He decided that he needed to talk to someone who would listen to him. He decided to seek out his Aunt Felicia. She loved him and Joe knew she would help him. Joe searched through the house, finally finding Felicia sitting in Francois study surrounded by piles of paper.
"Aunt Felicia, I have a problem." Joe plunked himself down on the sofa and nearly stretched his legs onto the coffee table but stopped himself, he was finally starting to learn.

"Yes dear." Felicia smiled at Joe benevolently then returned her gaze to the list she was working on.

"I, umm, I ummm." Joe wasn't sure where to begin. How to explain all these feelings churning inside him.

His aunt continued her writing, not really noticing that Joe had fallen silent. He watched her intently, waiting for her to notice he had stopped speaking. Several minutes passed in silence. Finally Felicia looked up at Joe, as she reached for another piece of paper. She smiled at him again, "Dear?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Would you mind running along and finding something else to do? We really have so much to do getting ready for the wedding. Perhaps you could go find Jacques, he was looking for you earlier."

"Yes ma'am." Joe rose quietly to his feet and left the room. He went down the hall to his room and went in and closed the door. He faced the room in despair, he had never felt so alone before.

The week passed slowly. Joe threw himself into his work as best he could. Finally it was early in the morning on the day before Duncan was scheduled to arrive with Paul to begin the final stages of the wedding preparations. Joe had risen early and decided to forego breakfast to take a long walk before starting to work with the last of the horses they owed to the army.

Joe felt terribly nauseous, his stomach was churning with anticipation. He knew he was about to commit the ultimate betrayal of his uncle Francois. And at the same time he was coming to hate everything he saw around him. He just didn't know what to do anymore. His uncle had made it clear that if he was to stay here in Louisiana he was going to have to go along with everything that was involved in the running of a plantation.
Joe found himself desperately wishing that he could talk to his father and brothers. As much as he hated how they had forgotten him, he couldn't help but remember all the times he'd had a problem and tried to work it out on his own. His father always seemed to know somehow and would try and get him to talk about his feelings, what he was going through. Adam would often just wait until Joe wanted to talk and with a few well placed questions he could help Joe see an emotional question from a logical standpoint. Hoss, well Hoss was just always there for him. If Joe needed a shoulder to lean on, a sympathetic ear or just silence Hoss was there.

Joe stopped and gazed around him. His eyes were wet with tears, a look of abject misery on his face. He tried to figure out where he was. He had been walking blindly for well over an hour. He stood uncertainly for a moment and suddenly was frozen by the sound of a gut wrenching scream of shear agony. It was a woman. Joe broke into a run, racing in the direction the screams were coming from. He arrived in a small clearing in front of the slave quarters. He immediately recognized his uncle's overseer Mr. Jordan. Jordan was holding a small black woman by the arms as she screamed in fierce agony. Joe followed the direction of the woman's gaze and recognized that there was another white man he didn't know carrying Peter, the stable boy, towards a small wagon.

"Hold it right there. What's going on here?" Joe's voice was commanding and he moved into the clearing commandingly.

"I'm taking my new boy and getting back to my plantation."

"What? By who's authority?" Joe turned to Jordan, "Who told you to sell this child?"

"Mr. DesVries did Master Joseph." Jordan spoke in a barely civil tone. He had heard quite a bit about Joe's behavior with the slaves. While Jordan didn't hold with abusing the slaves, he felt the masters should understand their place and leave the management of the slaves to people like himself.

"Francois ordered this?"
"No sir, Master Phillipe ordered it. He said you requested it."

Joe was aghast. Suddenly he flashed on his conversation with Phillipe. Oh my lord, he thought, I never meant sell the boy, I just meant-- "Well, he misunderstood. Get the boy back, give him to his mother."

"It's too late sir, the deal was finalized yesterday. Mr. Landry was just picking up the boy. All the papers have already been signed."

Joe turned to Landry but he realized that he was helpless to stop this abomination that he had set in motion. He watched as Peter stood in the back of the wagon, tears streaming down his face, his hand outstretched to his mother.

Peter's mother had collapsed, sobbing and moaning, on the ground at Jordan's feet. With surprising gentleness Jordan helped her to her feet and guided her into the small cabin behind her. Several other women held their arms out to her and brought her inside.

As Joe turned away helplessly he saw Claire standing in the doorway of one of the cabins. He paled at the look of contempt on her face. He took a half step towards her, "Claire."

She stared at him, her anger showing quite clearly. Very softly she said, "I guess one white man's just like any other."

Joe stretched his hand out to touch her but she jerked away, "You want to touch me, you order me."

Joe's hand dropped to his side and he watched silently as she turned and walked away.
 

Joe spent the rest of the day working like a man possessed. He broke five horses before the end of the day. He was mindful of his Aunt Charlotte's comments and was careful not to hurt the horses. He didn't want any more guilt, he didn't think he could bear it. He was relatively silent throughout dinner, oblivious of the looks of concern Felicia and Francois were directing at each other over his head. Sylvie also ate quietly, answering her mother's inquiries with monosyllables.

Jacques was uncharacteristically silent, oppressed by the atmosphere in the room. He cast worried glances at Joe. Jacques had been tormented by nightmares the past few nights, nightmares of losing his father in the woods and being chased by monsters who kept moaning about the letter. Jacques couldn't decide what was worse, remaining silent and avoiding the punishment that he knew would be his if he told his father what he had done, or the nightmares. Joe looked so unhappy that Jacques longed to go and comfort him and give him a big hug.

Charlotte gazed around the table, her eyes passing over Joe with a look of ill-concealed contempt. "Well Sylvie, I hope that you will try to be a bit more pleasing when Saturday arrives. Two hundred people are not coming to see such a gloomy bride."

"Yes Mama." Sylvie attempted a small smile. She felt burdened with guilt. While she counted the minutes until she and Duncan would be together she would miss her family.

Phillipe reached out to her and squeezed her hand gently, smiling at her reassuringly. He assumed his baby sister was a bit nervous about the pending nuptials and wedding night.

Dinner finally concluded, Joe went up to his room by himself. He sat down on the window seat, he took off his boots and drew his feet up. He wrapped his arms around his legs and buried his face in his knees. Phillipe came in without knocking and became concerned when he saw the obvious misery his cousin was in.

"Joe, are you ok?"

Joe nodded his head, he felt like he had a huge lump in his throat and he wasn't sure he could speak.
"Jordan told me what happened. I'm sorry Joe, I was only trying to make you happy."

"I know that Phillipe."

"I thought you were right, the boy was too small for the kind of work we were having him do. He'll be put to work as a kitchen worker at the Landrys. He'll eventually get a chance to become a house slave, really a better position for him. You mustn't think you did wrong."

"But taking him from his mother." Joe's voice was muffled. He could feel the child's pain, he had lost his mother at almost the same age.

"Joe, he's a slave, they don't feel things the way you and I do. He'll get over it. The Landry's will treat him well. I'm sure some other woman will take him under her wing, he's a likeable little cuss." Phillipe sat next to Joe and put an arm around his shoulder. "Joe, you are making everyone quite unhappy you know. You really need to stop upsetting everyone."

Joe raised his head and stared at his cousin. How familiar this all sounded. It was the story of his whole life. "I'm sorry Phillipe. I'll try harder."

"Thanks Joe." Phillipe got up and walked out of Joe's room.

Joe buried his head in his arms again. He just had to make it for a few more days then Sylvie and Duncan would be off. He sat alone in the darkness and stared out into the night.
 

Duncan, Paul and their parents arrived the next day and the house was suddenly bustling with activity. Joe found himself along with Duncan, Phillipe and Jacques having his final fitting for his suit. He loved the suit, it was the finest he had ever owned. He was pierced with a feeling of guilt, he was letting everyone around him prepare for a wedding that would never be.

That night, after a long, elaborate dinner, he sat in his room, waiting for Duncan and Sylvie. Paul had escorted Sylvie on a walk after dinner and Joe knew that had to have been hard for both Sylvie and Duncan. Duncan came into Joe's room sometime after 11.

"Joe, you awake?"

"Over here," Joe was again on his familiar seat at the window. "Are they back?"

"Yes, Paul came in about half an hour ago."

"She'll be here soon. Have you been able to get any money together?" Joe asked seriously.

"Yes, actually I had much more than I realized. I went to the bank and got some. I also sold a few things, but I was trying to be careful. I've got over a thousand dollars Joe, plus some jewels that I inherited from my grandfather."

"That should be more than enough. Let's wait for Sylvie and I'll give you the plan."
Duncan's gratitude was palpable. "Thanks Joe." He paused, surveying his friend carefully. "Joe are you ok? You seem so distracted. Is anything wrong?"

Joe took a deep breath, considering what he was doing carefully. Finally he just blurted out everything that had gone on since the last time he had seen Duncan at the slave auction. "I just can't see how I can stay here Duncan, but I don't know what to do or where I should go."

"Joe, don't stay here. Come away with Sylvie and I. We would love to have you along."

For the first time in two days Joe grinned. He looked at Duncan and raised his eyebrows. Duncan stared for a moment and then laughed, quickly putting his hand in front of his mouth to stifle the noise. "Joe, you know what I mean."

"Yes I do. But for this to work they can't know anyone helped you. They have to think it was just a spur of the moment thing. By the time they figure out what's going on you'll be on the Friday morning stage to San Francisco. It's going the southern route - you should be there in two weeks."

Suddenly there was a soft tapping on the door. Joe rose and moved across the room, as silent as an Indian. "Yes," he said at the door.

"Joe, it's me," Sylvie hissed. He opened the door and she flew past him, directly into Duncan's arms. Joe went back to his window seat and kept his back turned to the two young lovers as they had their reunion. Finally Sylvie came over and put her arms around him. "Joe, I'm sorry, we almost forgot you were here. Come tell us your plan."
The three sat on the floor, Sylvie secure in Duncan's arms. Joe sketched his simple plan. The two would leave Thursday evening about two hours after dinner. Joe would hitch up his golden mare to the small surrey he had purchased, supposedly as a wedding gift for the two of them just a few days before. This way, none of the usual family vehicles would be missing and they would get a head start before anyone pursued them. Duncan and Sylvie would immediately drive to the next county and go to see a justice of the peace Joe had located. He would marry them and the two would proceed directly to New Orleans. They would catch the early stage, which would leave at 6 a.m. on Saturday morning.

When the family discovered they were missing a search of the local area would start. If everything went well they would be well away and no one would be able to do anything once it was discovered they were married.

"Joe, will you be ok here?" Sylvie was worried. She knew what had been going on. Daisy had told her about Peter and what was going on with Joe and Claire. She feared greatly for her cousin.

"I think so. I don't think I'll be here too much longer no matter what happens. If they find out what happened then I'll ..." Joe paused, he still hadn't been able to think that far.

"Joe, you know that if you want you can always come to us, before you jump that clipper ship." Duncan smiled fondly at his young friend. For someone he had known only a few months Joe had become the best friend he ever had. Thanks to Joe he was going to get his chance with the woman he loved, and possibly get to be the writer he had always dreamed of being.

Joe smiled back. "Look, you two better get out of here, we don't want anyone to get suspicious. Sylvie, are things ok with Paul?"

Sylvie nodded uncomfortably, "He was a perfect gentleman as always. I feel terrible about this, he's going to be terribly hurt."

Duncan shifted uncomfortably. He knew his brother didn't love Sylvie. His brother was no better than Sarabeth's father when it came to the slaves and loose women in the Swamp. Paul seemed such a perfect Southern gentleman, but it was all a lie. Sylvie would have suffered her whole-married life with him.
"Sylvie, trust me, Paul will be just fine. Since you are running off with me my parents won't be making a big fuss about this. Your parents will be able to act the part of the injured parents, they will all blame me." Duncan hugged her close.

The next three days passed quickly. Duncan and Joe spent a lot of time together, most of their time in front of others talking about Duncan's writing and Joe's horse training. Late Wednesday evening Joe sat in his room. Duncan had retired early, ostensibly because he was tired, but he was actually carefully packing his travel clothes for his escape. Joe was startled from his contemplation out the window by a knocking on his door. "Yes, who is it?"

"Phillipe."

"Come in Phil." Joe was startled, he hadn't really talked to his cousin in the past two days. The contract for the army had been fulfilled and they hadn't brought in any new horses since they knew the wedding would tie them up for the next week or so.

"Hey Joe." Phillipe shifted uncomfortably as he looked at his cousin. Joe had been lying on his couch with his bare feet up reading a novel Duncan had given him.

"What's going on Phil?" Joe wondered if Phillipe suspected something. He was acting a little strange.

"Joe, I was just wondering, are you mad at me?"

"Mad? No I don't think so. Should I be?"
"Well, since the other day with the boy, you've been really distant. I just thought, maybe you were still blaming me for what happened?" Phillipe looked miserable.

"Oh no Phil, no not at all. I understand that you did what you thought was best for Peter. I'm sorry I should have told you that. I guess I've just been a little out of sorts. I know I've upset everybody, sometimes I just can't seem to do anything right."

Phillipe came over and sat beside Joe. "Joe, I can tell something is going on here."

Joe straightened up in his seat and his eyes widened. "Oh, really?"

"Yes Joe, I think you are thinking of leaving and going home, aren't you?"

Joe struggled with his conscience. Of everyone he had encountered here in Louisiana, Phillipe was the person he was closest to, more of a brother than a cousin. But he couldn't betray Sylvie. "I think about leaving sometimes. More lately if you want the truth." Joe realized that he was telling the partial truth at least.

"Joe, I don't want you to go. I know adjusting to this place is rough for you. It's just, well you're just like a brother to me." Phillipe gazed into Joe's face intently, and Joe could see tears welling up in his eyes. Spontaneously Joe reached out and hugged his cousin.

"I'll try harder Phillipe, I promise." They both wiped their eyes surreptitiously. "Now, did I tell you about the horse I bought in Yuma two years ago." The two talked and laughed for over two hours. Joe felt slightly better than he had in days. He shivered suddenly, what would tomorrow bring.
 

Ben surveyed the full livingroom of the Ponderosa with satisfaction. The party was a raging success. Ben had been doubtful when Nancy Coffee had come to see him earlier this week and asked Ben to help her throw a surprise birthday party for her father at the Ponderosa. "Dad's been really low lately Mr. Cartwright. I think a surprise party would do him a world of good. And if we do it here it would really surprise him. Please." Nancy smiled her most charming dimpled smile and Ben felt his resistance melt. There was really no good reason not to have a party, in fact the three men had been alone so much in recent weeks on the Ponderosa a party might be just the thing pick up their spirits.

Now Ben realized this was the best thing that could have happened. Adam was involved in an animated conversation with Judge Palmer and if Ben stretched his neck, he could see Hoss dancing with Molly Parker while the band played a slow waltz. He gestured Hop Sing over to his side. "Hop Sing the food is outstanding. Can you just check around and make sure that everyone is taken care of?"

"Certainly Mr. Cartlight." Hop Sing nodded and padded away. The first people he approached were Doc Martin and Nancy Coffee. "Nancy, I have to tell you, it's a record for me. I've never gone a whole three months without having Joe Cartwright as a patient. I checked my records. Sometimes it seems that I've spent most of my career patching that boy up one way or another."

"Well it must be a nice break for you."

"Nice break, I'm worried sick. Who knows what kind of butchers the doctors down there are? I haven't spent all these years keeping that boy in one piece to have some southern doctor mess him up." Nancy nodded in sympathy. Hop Sing moved on.

Sheriff Coffee and Ray Sutterbee were chatting by the fireplace. "So how are things in town Sheriff?"

"Quiet Ray, too quiet in a way. We haven't had a brawl in a saloon in three months. Not since that last ruckus Joe got into with the Sullivan brothers."

"How can it be too quiet Roy?"
"Well Ray, it just seems like things just ain't that exciting. Little Joe sure did keep things jumping in town. You know I even had Cosmo in complaining. He ain't had his mirror smashed in three months and he tells me business is way down. Seems that Joe's ruckus was always good for business."

Ray nodded agreeably. Hop Sing moved on.

Lance sat on the steps leading up to the second floor of the Ponderosa. His little sister Katie on the step above him. They were watching Hoss dancing.

"It ain't right Lance. Joe should be here dancing with me, not chasing some girls down there in Louisiana."

"Katie, you know Joe's a big time plantation owner now. I heard tell he's going to be a millionaire come spring."

"Lance all Joe Cartwright will do with a million dollars is spend it on horses, chasing pretty girls and picking up poor strays. It's the same thing he'd be doing here, only here you'd be doing it together." Katie eyed her older brother carefully. Lance had seemed to grow a tiny bit quieter each day since Joe had been gone. She had a sudden insight into how lonely Lance must be, Joe was always the only person who could make Lance laugh out loud. She reached out and gave her brother a spontaneous hug, he smiled and hugged her back.

Hop Sing smiled benignly on the two young people. He returned to Ben Cartwright's side. "Does everyone have what they need Hop Sing?"

Hop Sing shook his head sadly and answered softly so Ben could not hear him, "No Mr. Cartlight, not what they need."
Ben, Hoss and Adam waved the last of their guests off-hours later. The three returned to the house and surveyed the livingroom. "Judging by the debris boys we've had a very successful party. Hop Sing, maybe we can save the cleaning up until tomorrow morning." Ben smiled at the tiny man.

"It was sure good to see everyone Pa. Seems like old times."

"Pa, the judge told me he heard there are big storms coming from the east through the mountains. It's good we had the party tonight, we may be snowed in before too long."

Ben nodded, "Well boys we best get settled in for the winter." And leading the way he went up the stairs to bed.
 

Joe thought Thursday would never end. He checked and rechecked his preparations. Before dinner he carefully groomed his golden palomino, Sunlight, for the last time. Duncan was going to leave the horse and surrey in a livery in New Orleans and Joe would fetch them both sometime next week. Dinner was torture for everyone. Paul for some unknown reason had become very animated and spoke a great deal about the wedding and the upcoming honeymoon. Sylvie grew quieter by the minute and Joe was afraid she was going to crack and tell.

Finally dinner ended and everyone retired to their rooms. The guests would begin to arrive the next day and they would need all their energy to keep everyone sorted out. When the house was finally silent the door to Joe's room opened silently and Sylvie entered. Sylvie was dressed very simply in a plain cotton dress and travel cloak. She wore sturdy black boots on her feet, perfect for travel. In her hand she clutched a large travel bag.

"Joe, are you ready?" She whispered softly.

"Yes, Duncan should be here in a minute." Joe slid out of the shadows. He was dressed in a simple dark shirt and pants. "Everything is ready, we just have to hitch up Sunshine and you'll be off."

Duncan slid in Joe's door carrying his travel bag. He was also wearing simple travel clothes.

Joe lead them out of his room and the three existed the house through the back door. The outside was lit simply by the light of the moon and the stars. Finally they arrived at the stable and slid inside. Joe quickly hitched up the horse and loaded the two bags into the surrey. When everything was ready he turned to Duncan and Sylvie.

"All set. Are you both ready to go?" Joe surveyed their faces. Sylvie looked pale and drawn, he could see the tears pouring down her face. She nodded silently at Joe. Duncan came over and embraced Joe firmly. Sylvie was next, she hugged him tightly. The three stood gazing at each other, none of them able to think of something to say.
 Finally Duncan spoke, "Joe, we will never be able to thank you. We'll owe you for the rest of our lives."

"Just be happy both of you. That's all the thanks I need."

"Joe come to us as soon as you can. We'll be waiting for you." Sylvie broke down and sobbed. Duncan gathered her in his arms and helped her into the surrey. Joe opened the door to the stable and lead the horse out into the courtyard. He waved the two of them on and they slowly drove out and down the road. Joe stood watching until the back of the surrey disappeared from view. He had never felt so alone.
 

The next morning the sun rose over the plantation. Joe came down to the breakfast table dressed in one of his best suits of clothes. He seated himself between Phillipe and Paul at the table and accepted a full plate of food from Jasper. The three chatted quietly, Paul asking the two partners about their new business.

Charlotte and Francois came down a short while later and Daisy ushered Jacques into the room and served him his breakfast. The Beauregards wandered in a short while later with Felicia and soon everyone was busy eating. Charlotte finally summoned Jasper and asked that he send someone to fetch Sylvie and Duncan. "Make sure they understand that we should talk before we begin greeting our guests."

Joe tried to appear calm. He surveyed the rest of the table, everyone was still eating and chatting quietly. He knew Sylvie and Duncan had gotten a great headstart, at least eight hours, and should be married by now. With any luck they would be on the stage tomorrow morning in New Orleans before anyone figures out where they were going.

Jasper reappeared in the doorway and came to speak to Charlotte. She suddenly shrieked, "What do you mean you can't find Sylvie? Francois, Sylvie is missing."

Everyone began babbling to each other. Joe sat still and stared around at the confusion that was taking place. They still did not seem to know about Duncan.

Francois got to his feet and began issuing orders, sending everyone scurrying in many directions. Joe was sent to check on the stable. He wondered what he would say about the surrey.

Three hours later everyone was gathered in the livingroom. It was by now apparent that Sylvie and Duncan had run off. Joe had remained relatively silent, afraid of speaking and calling attention to himself in this crisis.

Francois and Felicia were comforting Charlotte, who appeared distraught. It was apparent to everyone that Charlotte was upset about more than her child being missing, she was ranting about the embarrassment of having to cancel the wedding. Suddenly Charlotte rose to her feet and pointed an accusing finger at Joe. "He's the one that caused this. This was just like what his mother did. I know he had something to do with this."
Joe had involuntarily risen to his feet, the color draining from his face. He stood silent, unable to bring himself to speak.

His aunt Felicia and Uncle Francois rose as well and both came over to him. "Joseph, what do you know about this?" Francois' voice pleaded with Joe to reassure him that Joe was not involved.

Joe straightened his shoulders and prepared to speak.
 

Joe started to say his piece, but was cut off by Paul.

"You bastard!" Paul shouted, his face turning scarlet. He lunged toward Joe, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and slamming Joe against the wall "I demand satisfaction! I challenge you to a duel, you dishonor me and your family!"

"Paul.." his father said, grabbing his son's arm. "Paul, you must not, you don't know..."

"Is it true, Cartwright?" Paul demanded, shaking off his father's grasp. "Did you have something to do with Sylvie leaving with my brother? I won't be embarrassed like this! Now, will you fight me or are you a coward?"

Joe slapped Paul's hands away, his eyes becoming angry. "Sure, I'll fight you, I ain't a coward. And yeah, I did help Sylvie and Duncan. She didn't want to marry you, she loved your brother!"

Aunt Charlotte gasped audibly. Mrs. Beauregard sat down hard, looking as if she would cry. Joe and Paul stood nose to nose, neither backing down.

"Name your weapon, Cartwright" Paul said through his teeth.

"Pistols" Joe said, glaring at Paul and not backing down from the challenge.

"No!" cried Mrs. Beauregard. Felicia turned toward her, dismayed at the scene. She tried to comfort the distraught woman by putting her arm around her shoulder and took her from the room.

Aunt Charlotte turned to Francois. "Pistols! The boy's a cowboy, a gunfighter, he'll kill Paul—you must stop this, Francois! I can't believe this, such a scene, on what should have been such a lovely day..."

Francois, momentarily at a loss for words and worried about his daughter, was trying to figure out where she might be, and if he should go after her. "Fermez ta bouche, Charlotte! I cannot think with you screeching at me!"

"Tomorrow morning at 9, Cartwright, by the cypress tree in the meadow." Paul demanded in a flat voice. Humiliated at being dumped by his bride, he gathered what dignity he could and stalked from the room.

Charlotte was not finished with Joe yet. "You—ever since you came here, you have done nothing but cause trouble.' She spat out her words. "You are a troublemaker, just like your mother was. She embarrassed this family, shamed them, she was a tramp, a whore! Did you know she had to marry that... that worthless abolitionist—or she would have caused even more disgrace to us. And you, you are just like her!" Charlotte's eyes were narrow and ice cold as she hurled her venomous invective at Joe.

"CHARLOTTE! THAT IS ENOUGH!" Francois demanded, pulling his wife away from Joe.

The color drained from Joe's face. Charlotte's cruel words cut him deeply, made him feel sick inside.

There was dead silence in the room. Joe felt his heart pounding, and heard a roaring sound in his ears. For a moment he thought he was going to pass out.

"No" he whispered. "No, she wasn't." Joe felt an icy rage building inside him, one like he had never felt before. He was breathing hard, fighting for control of his emotions. He snapped, his eyes angry, his temper exploding out of control. "She wasn't!" he yelled, clenching his fists. "You bitch! How dare you judge my mother! You... a woman so cold her own daughter can't even tell her that she won't marry the man you chose for her. You deserve what you got!" Joe was very close to tears, and barely stopped himself from striking Charlotte. He turned to flee, wanting to be anywhere but here. He felt a strong hand close around his arm and pull him back.

"Joseph, in my study. NOW!" Francois demanded. He had lost all patience with Joe, as well as with his wife.

Joe attempted to yank his arm away from Francois, but the older man's grip only tightened. "NOW!" he barked, pushing Joe towards the study door.

Joe, angry and sullen, was propelled by his uncle into the study. He walked to the far window and stood looking out, refusing to meet his uncle's eyes.

"If you were my son, I would give you a hiding you'd not soon forget" said Francois, his anger barely contained. "You live in my house, I treat you as one of my own children and THIS is my reward? You help my daughter to run off with another man on what was to have been her wedding day? You knew this, yet you allowed the families to continue the wedding plans?" Francois paced the room in a high state of agitation. "What Charlotte said was cruel, but she was right about one thing—you have caused too much trouble. I don't know if it is that you are so like your mother or if you have just run wild all your life, but I am very disappointed in you."

Francois turned and looked at Joe, standing by the window, his face in his hand, his back to Francois. The older man was suddenly drained of his anger at Joe and overwhelmed with concern for his daughter. He walked over to his nephew, his tone more gentle. "Joe, please, I must know about Sylvie--is she alright? Where is she?"

Joe shook his head. "I promised her I wouldn't tell you where she is until tomorrow, but she is alright." Joe turned and faced his uncle, standing straighter. "She loves Duncan very much, Uncle Francois. And she means the world to him. He has a job and some money, they will be fine. I know you don't want to lose her, but you would have if she married Paul... he didn't love her." Joe's eyes searched his uncle's face for some kind of understanding.

"Not every marriage is for love, Joe. There is duty to your family. Maybe not where you come from but here, it is part of how we preserve our system. How we keep our land, our way of life".

"Your way of life... " Joe trailed off softly. "It seems to mean more than anything else here, more than people, more than families, more than love. I don't understand it and I guess I never will." He laughed bitterly as he turned and looked out at the slaves working in the cotton. "You know, I always thought I was so different than my pa and my brothers and when I met y'all I was just so happy to finally be a part of a family where the people were so much like me. At home, I was always the troublemaker, the wild kid. But inside, I guess I am more like my pa and my brothers than I knew. I wasn't raised to treat people like animals, or to marry someone I don't love. I just can't do it, Uncle Francois". Joe's voice broke, as he realized what he had to do.

"I'll leave tomorrow, I can't stay here anymore." Joe turned to his uncle. "I'm really sorry, I know I've really screwed up... I always do, I..."

Francois raised his hand and signaled Joe to stop. "No, Joe you haven't screwed up, not really. You are right, you are just different inside than we are." Francois put his hands on Joe's shoulders. "I see a strong and principled young man in front of me. Maybe your values are not the same as mine, but you fight for them and that is a good thing. It doesn't make you wrong, Joe. But it does make it hard for you to stay here. I wish it were different. But, one of the things I love about you is how much you are like your mother, and I know she would be proud of you, boy."

The mention of his mother brought to Joe's mind Charlotte's cruel remarks. "Uncle Francois" Joe said hesitantly, "what...what she said, about my ma..."

Francois sighed and shook his head. "I will take care of her, she had no business saying such things to you. She reopened a wound that should have been left alone."

"Is it true?" Joe asked, dreading his uncle's answer.

"Why does it matter now, Joe?" Francois asked sadly. "Yes, it was true, but Marie would have married Jean anyway."

Joe stared at the carpet, digesting this information.

" But the real tragedy was that we lost your mother because of my father's temper. He drove her into disobeying him. He forbade her to see Jean and it made her determined to do so."

Joe felt compassion for his mother—disowned by her own family. He could all too well imagine what his own father would say in such circumstances.
"My father had a horrible temper, and he told Marie she was never welcome here again. He forbade us to speak of her and he got rid of everything of hers, it was if she had never existed." Francois said softly. It was if the older man was unaware of Joe's presence now. "Marie did come back one day though, after Jean had left her and gone west. Marie had her child and no way to support him. She was so proud, it must have killed her to come home and ask for help."

"And did your father..." Joe was interrupted by Francois' vehement reply.

"No, he would not allow her to even enter the house. He would have nothing to do with her, said he had only one daughter and closed the door in her face. I... saw her several times in New Orleans, and gave her money, but I know she was having a difficult time surviving. She had to... take jobs to support her child... then she lost him as well, to Jean's family. One day she just disappeared from New Orleans—I heard she had gone west with a man, but I never saw her again." Francois buried his face in his hands. "My father ruined Marie's life. I don't want to do the same to my daughter."

Joe felt sorry for his uncle, distraught with worry for his daughter. He placed his hand on Francois' arm and gave it a squeeze and said, "Your father didn't ruin my ma's life. I don't know about her life with Jean, but she was very happy with my Pa. He loved her a lot, I think he still does" Joe said softly, thinking of how often he had seen his father sitting and holding a picture of Marie. "And she loved him very much. I think Duncan and Sylvie will be as happy as my parents were, Uncle Francois".

Francois turned to his nephew and gave him an affectionate hug. Thank you, Joe. And thank you for helping me to realize that Marie found true happiness. For so many years, I wondered if she ever did."
 

Later that evening, Joe was sitting again on the window seat in his room. He was shirtless and barefoot in the warm night air, and sat with his legs drawn up, his back against the wall, looking out into the still black night. My last night here, he thought. Sadness at leaving Phillipe, his uncle and his Aunt Felicia threatened to choke him. He had no real idea of where he would go. Travel to the west was very dangerous at this time of year—it was pleasant in Louisiana, but the Rocky Mountains would be impassable. Besides, Joe wasn't sure what kind of a welcome awaited him at the Ponderosa. He knew his father had been seeing that widow, and for all he knew, had married her. He couldn't face the thought of a stepmother. Nor could he return to the role as the overprotected little brother that couldn't do anything right, who was good only for a laugh. He had had a taste of being successful, of doing something worthwhile here, of being an adult.

Joe ran his hands through his hair, which now reached his shoulders. He knew he was a very different person in some ways than the boy his brothers thought they knew. Maybe he should go to sea for awhile, he could easily sign on a ship in New Orleans and go home in the spring.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by a quiet knock on the door.

"Come in" said Joe.

Phillipe slipped through the door quietly. "You okay?" he asked Joe.

"Yeah, I guess. Did your pa tell you?" Joe asked.

"Yeah, he did" Phillipe said. "Where will you go—back home?"

"I don't think so," Joe said, shaking his head. "I'm thinking of maybe going to sea, seeing the world".

"Oh" Phillipe said enviously. "I wish I could do that. Me, I'm just stuck here forever, doing what is expected of me."

The two cousins were silent for a moment, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Suddenly Phillipe asked "Joe, what about the duel? You still going to fight Paul?"

Joe shrugged. "If I'm not gonna stay here, it doesn't really matter, does it?"

"Joe, you know it's a code of honor here... if you want people to respect you, you have to. And Paul probably won't let you alone til you do.".

"I know" said Joe, sighing. "Phil, how much practice has Paul had at using a pistol?"

"I don't know, I guess he practiced shooting at targets and well, he hunts." Phillipe said, shrugging his shoulders.

"He ever shot at a man?" Joe asked, looking sideways at Phillipe.

"No, not that I know of anyways" Phillipe said. "Why?"

"Because I have. I wore a gun every day at home, Phil. And I'm fast with it—real fast and my aim is dead on. I'd kill Paul. And I don't want to--I don't have any fight with him now."

Phillipe looked thoughtfully at his cousin, unsure if Joe was bragging, and then decided he wasn't. There was something about the quiet way Joe spoke.

"You ever kill a man, Joe?" Phillipe asked, holding his breath.

Joe nodded. "Only when they drew on me though. I don't go shooting people for the hell of it."

Phillipe was unsure of what to say. He saw with sudden clarity the difference in the lives he and Joe had led. Phillipe had never had to fight to stay alive, to kill someone or be killed. He remembered Joe's toughness after taking the spill from the horse, and realized where that steel inside Joe came from.

Phillipe said suddenly "Joe, I'm sure gonna miss you when you leave. You've been like a brother to me." He cast his eyes down, not wanting Joe to see the threatening tears.

"Ah," said Joe "don't say that, brothers are a pain in the ass, you know. " Joe attempted to make light of the situation then sobered. "I know, Phil. You've been better than a brother because you don't boss me around or treat me like a kid who doesn't know anything." Joe picked at a hole in the knee of his jeans and said "what about the business?"

"Hey, I can't run it by myself" said Phillipe. "Without you to break the horses, there really isn't a business. Why don't I just give you half the money and well, we'll just say we closed."

Joe nodded. "Yeah, I can use that money to help me get wherever I am going."

Phillipe stood up. "Well, Joe, see ya in the morning, make sure you clean that gun good."

"Huh?" Joe said, preoccupied. "Oh, yeah."

The next morning dawned crisp and cool, a light frost having finally fallen on Louisiana. Joe had barely slept, his emotions and thoughts in turmoil. He rummaged through his dresser drawers, his hands finally feeling the smooth cool leather of his gunbelt. He pulled it out and slipped his gun out of the holster. He hadn't worn it for almost four months and he wanted to clean the gun and make sure it fired. He buckled it on over his jeans and slipped out of the house into the cold morning air.

An hour later, he lined up tin cans on the rail fence. He turned his back to them and then suddenly whirled, holding the gun in his left hand and striking the hammer with his right. Every can exploded and fell from the fence.

He heard an appreciative whistle from behind him. "That is some fine shooting my boy". Francois walked up to Joe. "It seems Charlotte was right about one thing, much as it pains me to admit it. You ARE a gunfighter."

Joe shook his head "My Pa would sure hate to hear you say that. He is always worried about me becoming one, though. But I don't make my living killing people."

"All the same." Francois looked at Joe. "Please, Joe, Paul isn't..."

"I know, I know, Phillipe told me. I ain't gonna hurt him bad, just enough to stop the fight" Joe said.

"If he saw what you just did, I don't think there would be a duel. I never saw anything like it." Francois said, half admiringly. "Anyway, I came down here to tell you something. And to give you something."

Joe began reloading his gun as he listened to his uncle. "Joseph, first I want to say thank you to you for one more change you helped me to make here".

Joe looked up from what he was doing, confused.

"Joe, for a long time, I have been unhappy with Charlotte. She has been a hard and unforgiving woman, and I think, not a very warm mother to my children. It is too late perhaps for Phillipe and Sylvie, but Jacques shall know a happier childhood. Charlotte has no time for him, he is an inconvenience to her. Her behavior last night was the final straw." Francois saw a guilty look cross Joe's face. "No, Joe, you must not feel badly about this. I should have left Charlotte years ago. Last night, I asked her to leave—she will be going to her sister's in New Orleans. Who knows," Francois said, smiling a little, "maybe I too will one day find that love you keep talking about".

Joe stared at his uncle, and slowly his face broke into a smile. "I hope so, Uncle Francois, you sure do deserve it."

"One more thing... the slave girl, Claire." Francois said, placing his hand on Joe's shoulder. "She's yours son. I know you cared for her. You can do whatever with her you wish, and that includes freeing her."

Joe could hardly believe what he was hearing—he had just been given the gift of another human being. While he found that thought repulsive, he was also thrilled, because he could now finally give Claire what she wanted most. "Really? Uh, can I go tell her?"

His uncle laughed. "Yes, go on." He watched his nephew break into a jog as he headed toward the slave quarters.
 

Joe ran into the dirt yard surrounding the cabins. Breathlessly, he asked the woman who was washing clothes in the large iron cookpot where Claire was . She pointed to an area of the cotton fields. Joe took off at a run this time, unable to wait to share the news with Claire.

Spotting her working by herself, he shouted her name. She looked up, but then turned back to her work. She didn't even glance at him as he ran up to her.

"Claire, Claire, I've got the best news... hey, Claire listen to me!" Joe begged, reaching for her arm.

She turned her back to him. "I got nothing to say to you, SUH" she said.

"Stop being so stubborn" Joe said impatiently. "My uncle, he uh..." Joe stopped, trying to figure out how to tell Claire she belonged to him now, without offending her further. "Claire, my uncle, he.... I mean, he told me I could give you your freedom" Joe said nervously.

Claire froze. He was toying with her. She turned on Joe and began to cry. She hurled herself at him and began to pound on him with her fists. "How can you say that? You... you son of a.."

"Claire!" Joe cried, catching her fists. "Stop it! I swear it, it's true, it's true!" Joe gathered her slender body in his arms and held her close to him, feeling her body heave with sobs. "It's okay" he said as he stroked her hair, until she stopped crying. "You're free, now you can go with me and see the ranch, or the mountains, or anywhere you want".

"I can't believe it, I can't" Claire said in disbelief. She looked up at Joe's face and he grinned down at her.

"Believe it" he said softly, then leaned down to kiss her. His kiss was gentle at first, then grew stronger and more passionate, more demanding. Finally, Joe pulled away and looked into Claire's eyes. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time, but... I didn't want to as long as you had no choice. Now, you can slap me and tell me to go away." Joe's hazel eyes sparkled at her mischievously.

Claire cast her eyes downward and smiled. "No... No I wouldn't do that." Shyly, she slipped her arms around his waist. The two of them stood in the row, locked in an embrace.

"Look, there's something I gotta do" Joe said, catching Claire's face in his hands. "And then I'm leaving this place. You comin' with me?" He looked at her hopefully.

"Well, yes, I guess I will... for a while anyways." Claire said. "This is so sudden, it ain't like I had any plans."

"OK," said Joe, "I'll be back for you in a few hours." He bent down and kissed her again, and felt her respond to him. She pulled him closer to her and rested her head on his shoulder, listening to the strong rhythm of his heart.
 

At precisely 9 am, there was a small group of people assembled under the cypress tree that grew alone in the meadow. Two figures stood opposite each other, one tall and nervous, the other smaller and sure of himself. Paul Beauregard held onto the butt of his pistol, his fingers twitching nervously. He wore no gunbelt, maybe that would give him an edge over Cartwright, who would have to draw his gun. He looked at Joe standing there, his gun worn low and easy, as if it were part of him.

The deadly calm of Joe Cartwright was disconcerting to Paul. He had been filled in about Joe's firearms skill by Phillipe, who had tried in vain to end the duel. Looking at the younger man's confident stance, Paul realized that he was probably in way over his head, and that he might pay for it with his life. Cartwright had obviously done this many times before. He looked into Joe's face and saw how focused and intense Joe was. Paul felt his bravado melt away, but his pride would not let him end the duel.

"Gentlemen" said Mr. Kenner, who had been called to act as the referee. "You will each walk 10 paces and stop. I will then say "fire". First man hit is the loser. Are you ready? Then go."

Slowly, both men walked 10 paces away, stopping with their backs to one another. The spectators held their breath collectively, waiting. Joe stood with his hands at his side, not even on his gun. The only sign of tension was that he was flexing his fingers, ready to draw. Paul stood awkwardly, his right hand on the handle of his pistol.

"Ready, gentlemen?" Mr. Kenner called. "FIRE!!"

Before the crowd could blink, Joe had, in one smooth motion, drawn and fired, with his inimitable two-handed style. The crowd gasped as Paul cried out and dropped his gun, grabbing his right arm with his left hand.

Joe twirled his gun in his hand and then holstered it. He walked over to Paul who was bent at the waist, holding on to his wounded arm. "I hope it's over Paul. I didn't want to kill you. Don't make me."

Paul shook his head, glad to be alive, but embarrassed again at losing. He said nothing, as his father led him away.
 

Several hours later, Joe stood beside the carriage with his family. Claire, eager to be away, was already inside, waiting anxiously, afraid someone would change their mind, or that it was all a cruel joke. Joe was dressed this time in clothes comfortable for travelling. As he had packed, he realized that he had piles of elegant clothes that he could see no use for in the near future. If he went to sea, he wouldn't need much.

Joe's relatives stood anxiously, waiting to say their good-byes. Suddenly, Joe felt two small arms grab him about the legs as Jacques hurled himself upon him, much as he had when Joe arrived. "Joe, Joe, can I go with you? Don't leave me, I don't want you to go... who will take me fishing or tell me stories?" The little boy looked up at Joe, his big eyes spilling over with tears.

Joe knelt down, looking into Jacques face, and smiling at him. "Hey, Jacques, you know a cowboy has to wander don't ya? You know, you can come visit me, and I'll show you cowboys—and Indians, and mountains. You can see bears and we'll catch the most fish you ever did see." Joe opened his arms and pulled Jacques to him and gave the little boy a hug. "You come see me now, y'hear?" Joe said, feeling a lump in his throat. He had grown very fond of Jacques, feeling like a real big brother to him.

He released Jacques and stood up, meeting Philippe's eyes. "Phil" Joe said, with a catch in his voice. He and Phillipe shook hands then embraced quickly, slapping each other on the back, trying not to show how much their parting hurt.

Then Joe turned to his uncle. "Well, my nephew, my namesake" Francois said, smiling at Joe.

"Guess I don't hate my middle name as much now," said Joe, laughing. "I'll think of you, rather than some prissy kid who gets beat up a lot."

Francois embraced his nephew, then stood back, his hands on Joe's shoulders. "Come back sometime for a visit. Don't let us lose you forever Joe. It took so long for us to find you. Good luck with whatever you do, son."

Joe nodded wordlessly, not trusting himself to speak. He felt as if he might choke.

Then he turned to his Aunt Felicia, the woman so like his own mother. "Joseph" she said, trying valiantly not to burst into tears. She too gave Joe a hug, then kissed him on the cheek. She looked up at him, her eyes bright with tears." Godspeed, Joseph, my dear. I will never forget you. Please... please come and visit your old aunt again one day, won't you?" Felicia's heart ached, looking at her sister's son. It was like losing her sister again in some ways, though in her heart she knew that somehow she would see Joseph again.

"Aunt Felicia" Joe said huskily. "You couldn't keep me away, and you know that wherever I end up, I will always welcome any of you." He gave his aunt one last quick hug and then jumped into the carriage. The driver clucked to the horses and Joe and Claire set off down the sandy tree lined drive, with the DesVries waving until they were out of sight.
 

Joe and Claire entered the lobby of the beautiful Orleans hotel. On the journey into the city, Joe told Claire that he had already decided that Claire deserved to try for herself some of the elegant surroundings she had worked in, but never enjoyed. Claire had protested, saying that it was quite enough she was free, and anyway, no fancy hotel like that would admit a person of color as a guest, only if they were a servant. But she was not a servant now and did not want to be treated as one any longer.

Joe shrugged and grinned wickedly. "Then we'll say you work for me, and that I require you to..."

"You'll say no such thing Joseph Cartwright! They'll think I'm a... a " Claire interrupted indignantly, a sudden laugh escaping from her.

"Hey, whatever works" said Joe, arching his eyebrows and looking sideways at Claire.

"You are a wicked wicked man, Joe" Claire said laughing, but as she had no plans and as yet, no money, she would to go along with whatever Joe decided.

Joe gave the bellhop their luggage and walked up to the front desk. "Two rooms, s'il vous plait." The clerk eyed Claire, who was standing apart, gazing around her in awe. "She with you, suh?"

"Yes," Joe said, speaking in a tone that dared the clerk to make something of it. "She is."

"I'm sorry sir, unless she is your maid, she is not allowed to stay here as a guest." said the clerk imperiously.

Joe seethed inside, but outwardly managed to remain calm. "Fine then. She is my maid." He hoped Claire wouldn't say anything to disagree. He really had no idea where they would stay if they didn't get a room at one of the better hotels. Even the cheaper rooming houses did not allow blacks to rent rooms. Nor could he rent a room in a rooming house that catered to persons of color.

"Sign here please" said the clerk, looking disapprovingly at Joe.

As they walked through the ornate lobby, Claire said under her breath "maid, indeed." Joe cast her a warning sidelong glance.

The bellhop brought their luggage to the adjoining suites and Joe tipped him. Claire threw herself on the bed, giggling. "Joe, this place is so fancy, why, it looks like one of those houses of ill repute that..." she began laughing again.

Joe grinned at her and snorted. "Hah, I told my pa that, when we came, and he told me to behave myself". Joe suddenly stopped and lowered his eyes.

"Joe... " Claire reached out to him and put her hands around his. "Joe, we need to talk. We need to decide..." Joe put his hand up to her mouth and shook his head, looking deep into her eyes. "No, not yet, we don't need to decide anything yet."

The two of them spent the evening walking through the French Quarter and dined outside at a restaurant on the water. They were the only diners on the outside patio and Joe was grateful for that. He had felt the hostile glances and heard the remarks people made as he and Claire passed. In New Orleans it was not uncommon to see a white man with a mulatto woman, but it was frowned upon.

Earlier, Joe had taken Claire to several ladies' shops and outfitted her with clothes that would be sensible for her new life. While Claire was trying on her new clothes, he had slipped next door to a jewelry shop and purchased a small cameo locket on a gold chain. After dinner he reached in the pocket of his vest and brought out a small package, tied with ribbon.

"Claire," he began. "I, uh, I wanted to give you um, a little something..." Joe felt a little embarrassed, but Claire saved him as her eyes grew big, then she began to cry.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Joe said anxiously. "I'm sorry, what'd I say?"

She shook her head wordlessly and managed to get out between sobs "Nothin', nothin... no one ever gave me nothing like a gift before". She attempted to wipe her tears with her napkin.

Joe was touched, then saddened. To have never received a gift from anyone, he thought, thinking of his own childhood. He had never lacked for much, he thought, ashamed.

Claire pulled the ribbon off the package and tore open the paper. She lifted the lid off the box with trembling hands and gasped at the locket, nestled in cotton wool. "Oh, Joe, it's beautiful, I've never had anything so pretty" She lifted it out by it's chain and Joe stood up and moved around the table to fasten it around her neck. He then gently slid his hands down her shoulders and lowering his lips to her neck, he kissed her gently. He helped her up and they walked back to the hotel slowly, hand in hand, enjoying the sights, sounds and smells of this vibrant city by the sea.
 

The next morning, Joe had breakfast sent up to their rooms. They dined together on the balcony, overlooking the Vieux Carre.

Joe tilted his chair back, propped his feet on the balcony railing and sighed. "I wish this could last forever", he said. "Being here with you, in this beautiful city, I could sure get used to it."

Claire, ever more down to earth, said "You know we can't stay forever. Joe, I've been thinking... I want to go north, but I don't know where to go. I don't really have any family.."

Joe brought his chair forward with a crash. "I can go with you—you don't have to go alone. We can go to Boston, my brother's grandfather is there, I know he would help us get started. Claire..."

Claire put her hand on Joe's arm, gently stopping his stream of consciousness. She smiled at his enthusiasm. "Joe, Joe you know we can't. No one would accept us. We have had more than our share of strange looks here, and well, we are just lucky no one has bothered us." She watched Joe as he set his jaw stubbornly, and stared out to sea. My Lord, she thought, smiling to herself, no one can tell him anything he doesn't want to hear. He looked as if he was ready to take on the world and all society's prejudices.

"Besides, Joe, you have a family, don't you? How long are you going to stay away from them? They must miss you very much, I know, if it were me..." Claire said quietly. "I would miss you terribly."

"I dunno," said Joe, not meeting Claire's eyes. "I don't think they miss me much at all. I ain't heard from them in a couple of months. And last I heard my pa was keeping company with some widow. Maybe he married her. I don't want a stepmother, she might be like ol' Aunt Charlotte."

At this, Claire snickered. Joe sounded like a sulky little boy, and she saw him glance sideways at her. Suddenly, he laughed sheepishly, as he realized how self-pitying he sounded.

"Joe, your family are the most important thing you got. I never stop wishing I'll find mine. Don't lose yours, Joe. Go home, where you belong, and talk with them. Whatever it was, you can work it out. Your pa raised himself a fine son, ain't no way a man like that would marry a Charlotte DesVries."

Joe sighed. "I guess you're right—I'll go home and see 'em, but I don't know if I'll stay. I can't go back to being the kid brother who just gets into trouble and screws up. I want to do something bigger and better with my life than that. Otherwise, I'll end up like my Uncle Lucien."

"Things'll work out Joe, you'll see." Claire gave his arm a squeeze.

"And you..." Joe said, looking thoughtful. "We gotta figure out where... I know! I'll write Adam's grandpa—no, I'll telegraph him! I'll ask him if he can help get you a job or somewhere to stay. I know he'll help, Adam said his grandpa was really against slavery. He refused to captain a slave ship."

"Do you think he would Joe?" Claire asked anxiously.

Joe smiled at her confidently. "I know he will."
 

Capt. Abel Stoddard Hingham Massachusetts

Capt Stoddard

Have a friend who needs help, hope you can provide it. She is free and needs job and home. Adam has said you are sympathetic to her cause.

I know you don't know me, but hope you will do this for her. Await your reply.

Joseph Cartwright

New Orleans

A day later, the old man was awakened by a knock on the door as he dozed by the fire. He thanked the messenger and tore open the telegram. New Orleans? Who could this be? He looked in shock at the name... Joseph Cartwright—Adam's little brother. Why, what was he doing there, a young kid like that? Then he realized that Joe must be grown by now. He had never met the boy, but had heard of many of his exploits from Adam, both when Adam lived here, and in his frequent correspondence. He knew Ben's third wife was a Creole from New Orleans, Joe must have gone to live with her family.

"A friend who needs a job and home.. She is free". Abel Stoddard knew that those words meant only one thing—Joe wanted to send a freed slave north to him. He knew precisely the person who could help and reached for his coat. He needed to see her, and would send a reply to Joseph on the way home.
 

Joe burst into the hotel room, slamming the door behind him. "Claire!" he called, "Claire!"

"Lord, Joe, you'll wake the dead, what is it?" Claire said, laughing at Joe as she entered the room. She had just taken a long bath and was wrapped in a robe.

"I got the answer—he'll help you, Claire, he has it all set up for you!" Joe waved the paper in front of her face, his smile from ear to ear. "Listen! 'Joseph, have arranged for employment and shelter with Harriet B. Stowe. Please contact R. Teal at Hotel Orleans for safe passage. Glad to help. A. Stoddard"

"Joe, what did you say? Harriet Beecher Stowe? Lord, he knows her?" Claire gasped.

"Who's she?" Joe asked, puzzled. "Someone special?"

"Only the woman who works harder than anyone to help free the slaves. She helps get them to Canada, helps get them to new lives. Can't believe I'm gonna meet her", Claire said, wonderingly.

"There still some of that hot water left?" Joe asked, oblivious to the importance of this woman. "I could do with a hot bath too." Claire nodded and waved towards the other room, still overcome by her good fortune.
 

Joe, with only a towel wrapped around his waist, walked over to the door, answering the soft knock. "Come in" he said, rubbing his long damp curls with a towel. Claire entered the room, then looked away, embarrassed. "um..." she said, "sorry, I wanted to ask about..." she trailed off, what was she going to ask anyway?

"We seem to meet like this often", Joe said grinning at Claire, and not embarrassed in the least. She looked back at him shyly, her eyes taking in his broad shoulders and strong arms, his muscular chest. His legs were long and nicely muscled as well.

He walked over to her and took her into his arms. He smelled of soap and his bronzed skin was smooth and cool. "So what was it you wanted to ask me?" he asked playfully, looking into her eyes. "Was it this?' Joe brushed Claire's lips with his own, softly and then with more demanding passion. He cupped Claire's face in his hands, tilting it upwards as he kissed her. His tongue probed her mouth, and she responded in kind to him. She placed her hands on his shoulders then slid them behind his neck, tangling her fingers in his long curly hair, delighting in the softness of it.

Joe pulled her closer and wrapped his arms tightly about her shoulders, his hands massaging her back as he pressed against her, his mouth moving down her neck, his kisses igniting her passion. She gently scraped her nails along his bare back, and he moaned softly, shivering with pleasure. His mouth sought hers again, his kiss harder and more urgent this time, his hands seeking the buttons of her dress. Skillfully, he unbuttoned her dress as she thrilled to the touch of his fingers on her skin.

Claire moved her hands over Joe's shoulders and then slowly began to move them downward, over his chest, down his stomach. He moaned again, urging her on. Emboldened, her hands slid over his hips, her fingers kept from his skin by the toweling. She slid her fingers just under the edge of it, then withdrew them as she felt him breathing raggedly in her ear. "Don't stop" he said in a husky voice, his own hands now roaming over her body, igniting small fires wherever they touched. His mouth found hers again and he kissed her deeply. She undid the towel. It fell to the floor unnoticed, as her hands found him and he groaned in pleasure.

Joe pulled her dress from her shoulders, and she let it drop to the floor with the towel. Standing only in her cotton petticoat in front of this handsome young cowboy, Claire felt a moment's uncertainty. She wanted him very much. She knew there could be no future with him, even if he didn't understand it. She didn't care. She loved him anyway, she would not deny herself this one night. She allowed him to lift her petticoat over her head and looked shyly at him as she felt his hot gaze on her. An expression of pure desire was on his face.

"Claire" he said, "are you sure this is what you want? You don't have to..."

She shook her head. "I never knew such a one for talking as you, Joe. Last time I looked, no one was forcing me to be here with you".

Without another word, he placed an arm behind her back and another under her knees and he lifted her and gently placed her on the silk sheets. Kneeling over her on the bed and supporting himself with his hands he kissed her neck again, and then slowly he moved downward, until his mouth found her breasts. Claire gasped with pleasure at the feel of his mouth on her. His tongue was igniting passion deep within her, a need she wanted fulfilled. Her hands were on Joe's hips, pulling him towards her, guiding him. He groaned softly, his breathing becoming faster as he covered her body with his.
 

They lay together listening to the sounds of the New Orleans night, Claire's head on Joe's bare shoulder. Joe was half-asleep, relaxed and content, his arm curled protectively around Claire. She turned and looked at his face, seeing the peaceful expression on it. Feeling her eyes on him, Joe opened his and smiled at her. "What are you thinking about?" he asked.
 

"I wonder, why you wanted me when you coulda had that fancy Sarabeth Kenner. Or her sister."
 

"Ah, Sarabeth... she well, she's just the kind of girl a guy has fun flirting with, she didn't really mean nothin' to me" Joe said. "You, you are the kind of woman a guy can fall in love with." And Joe turned and looked at Claire seriously.
 

"Joe, don't" said Claire. "We have to go our own separate ways—you to Virginia City, me to Boston.The world won't allow it. You know that Joe. Can you seriously picture taking me home to your pa, tellin' him we'll get married?" Claire almost sounded bitter. No doubt this had been a mistake. He was falling in love with her, and she with him. She teased him by saying "'Sides, Joe, I don't think you take any girl serious. I think you just wanta have fun with em all."
 

Joe sighed and said nothing. He knew she was right about their future. "Well, we still have tonight" Joe said, grinning mischievously, as he gathered Claire in his arms again.
 
 

The next morning Claire stood on the platform, as her bags were loaded on the stage that would take her to Boston. She gazed at her shoes as she realized how much she would miss Joe. She lifted her eyes and looked at him, watching as he paid for her ticket and then sauntered over to her.

"Here ya go, Claire, here's your ticket. You should be in Boston by next Saturday." Joe handed her the ticket. "Hey, why the long face? It ain't every day a gal gets a new home and job in a new city?" Joe grinned at her and squeezed her hands. "It'll be ok".

She shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears. "I'll miss you so much, Joe" and she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him.

"I'll miss you too, Claire" Joe said, swallowing hard. "But you're gonna be real happy there. No one will tell you how to live your life, no one will hurt you or to take away the people you love." Joe looked down into Claire's eyes. "You'll be ok. But, one thing..."

"What?" Claire asked.

"Write me, ok? I want to know you're safe." Joe said.

"Where will you be, Joe?" Claire asked, thinking how fortunate she was that she was able to read and write.

"I'm going home, for a while at least. Then I think I am going to visit Sylvie and Duncan. After that, who knows? We'll see if the world is ready for me" Joe gave her a cocky smile.

Claire stood on her tiptoes and gave Joe a kiss, lingering a bit. "Thank you, Joe, for everything"

"No need to thank me" Joe said. He held her tight and kissed her mouth, her neck and then buried his face in her hair. "I love you" he whispered.

A woman taking the same stage stared at the couple. Joe scowled at her and she looked away hurriedly. But he heard her murmured disapproval.

Joe released Claire as he saw an older man walking down the sidewalk towards them. "Mr. Teal?" Joe asked.

"Yes, you must be Abel's grandson?" the old gentleman asked.

"Um, well, kinda" Joe said, shaking his hand. "This here's Claire, the uh, package you are taking to Captain Stoddard. And thank you, sir."

"My pleasure, Claire" said the old man, bowing slightly. "After you" he said, indicating the stage.

Claire climbed onto the stage. She was very excited to begin this new adventure, but also sad to be leaving Joe behind. The driver shouted to the horses and the coach lurched forward. Joe stood, hands in his pockets, watching the coach until it disappeared in the distance, taking a little piece of hisheart with it.
 

Joe watched Claire's stagecoach moving off. Resolutely he squared his shoulders and turned his face to the west. Home, it was time for him to go home. More than anything else, after everything that had happened, Joe wanted to see his father and his brothers. He had to tell them how sorry he was for hurting them so. Joe knew that much of what he had done was unforgivable, the letter to his father, the acceptance of Belle Mer. He had to set things right with his family. Once that was done he would set out on his own. He knew he couldn't let things slip back to the way they had been before he came to Louisiana. He couldn't just be the baby anymore, the butt of his brothers jokes, always the follower, never the leader.

Joe stopped briefly at the telegraph office and sent a message to Sam Clemens to deliver to Sylvie and Duncan telling them briefly what happened and that he would be joining them in San Francisco after he had stopped to see his father.

At the hotel he went to the concierge desk to arrange to check out the following morning. The concierge agreed to ship Joe's trunks by stage to Virginia City come spring. Joe would use the stage line for at least part of his westward journey but with the bad weather there were too many uncertainties for him to risk bringing everything with him.

That evening, after dining in his room, Joe sorted his things. He paused when he got to his mother's trunk. Finally he took out the jewelry box and diary and placed them in the pile of clothing he was taking with him. He selected three small items and wrapped each carefully in a handkerchief. He smiled as he put them in with his other things. He carefully repacked and labeled everything. He despaired at the many piles of clothing, none of which was going to be useful to him on this trip. He had put the two warmest sets of clothes aside to take. He ran his fingers through his hair, these would not be warm enough for his trip. When he had come to New Orleans he had fully expected to be home well before the cold weather set in. He finally packed all his fancy new clothes carefully, he wouldn't need them at the Ponderosa, but he might once he decided where he was going next. He finished his packing by putting the clothes he would take plus the jewelry box and diary in his bag. Joe went to bed and for the last time enjoyed the feeling of the silken sheets against his naked skin. Joe missed having Claire next to him, but he knew in his heart that her decision was the right one. He could never have gone north with her, he had to see his family. He snuggled down into the soft bed and closed his eyes. Life was going to be a bit rougher for the next few weeks.December 11

Telegram addressed to Joseph Cartwright, Ponderosa Ranch, Virginia City, Nevada.

Joseph

Package arrived in Boston safely December 10. Hope all went well on your journey. Package now with Harriet Stowe. Bless you my son.

Captain Abel Stoddard.
Frank Johnson of the telegraph office saw Ben Cartwright and his sons on the street outside his office and raced outside. "Mr. Cartwright, Mr. Cartwright, a telegram came for Little Joe, I didn't know he was back."

"He's not Frank. I'll take it." Ben held out his hand and Frank, hesitating for only a moment, handed it over.

"What's it say Pa? Hoss leaned in to see.

"It's from your grandfather Adam, something about Joe's package arriving and hoping Joe's journey went well." Ben gazed at his sons in astonishment.

"Pa, do you think that means Joe's on his way here?" Adam was agog. What could Joe have sent his grandfather, a man Joe ha never even met.

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out. Let's send telegrams to Felicia and Phillipe and see what's going on down there." Ben led the way into the office. December 11

To Francois DesVries (duplicate to Felicia Aumont)

Received information that Joseph may be traveling to Ponderosa. Please confirm.

Ben Cartwright.
 For 24 anxious hours Ben and his sons waited for news of Little Joe. What could have happened? Finally a reply came.December 12

Ben Cartwright.

Joseph left here November 25. We do not know where he was headed. He was upset with us and also upset at no news from the Ponderosa. Please let us know when he arrives there, everyone is very concerned.

Francois and Felicia.
Ben crumpled the telegram in his hands. Joe was upset at no word. Had his letter gone astray? He paled. Ben knew how Joe thought. Joe would have assumed that no word from his father and brothers meant that they were angry with him. There was no telling where he was.
 December 13

To Joseph Cartwright, Ponderosa Ranch

Awaiting news of when to expect your arrival. Hope journey has gone well so far. Sam sends his regards. Cannot wait to see you. There is much good news.

Love Sylvie and Duncan Beauregard.
Frank rode to the ranch to deliver the telegram personally. His reputation was for being silent as the grave on all matters concerning his customers. But he knew everyone in town's anxiety level had grown when word came Joe had disappeared from New Orleans. As he rode into the ranch' yard he saw Ben, Hoss and Adam come running from the house. He saw the hope on their faces brighten as they awaited his news. "Another telegram for Joe, sir. This one is from San Francisco.

"For Joe?" Ben was growing ever more bewildered. First mysterious packages to Boston then telegrams from San Francisco. He opened and read it. Silently he passed it off to Adam.

"Sam? You think they mean Sam Clemens Pa?"

"Sylvie, ain't that Joe's cousin? But who's Duncan?" The three Cartwrights merely stood still, attempting to puzzle out the increasing mystery around Joe's travels.

"Ben moved to Frank's side. "Thank you Frank. Can you come in while I send a reply."

"Certainly sir." Ten minutes later Frank rode off.
December 15

Sylvie and Duncan Beauregard

Joseph not at Ponderosa. Attempting to determine his whereabouts. Please send any available information.

Ben Cartwright.
 A response came the next day.
December 15

Ben Cartwright, Ponderosa Ranch

Your son did us a great service during his stay in Rivieux Rouge. He sent a telegram November 30 saying he would soon be joining us in San Francisco after he stopped at the Ponderosa. We expected him to be with you by December 6. Our thoughts and prayers are with him. Please notify us when he arrives.

Sylvie and Duncan Beauregard
Ben was speechless, Joe was going to San Francisco after stopping here? He struggled to understand what had happened. Later that same day another telegram arrived.
December 15

Ben Cartwright, Ponderosa Ranch

My son Jacques has confessed that he had hidden your last letter to Joseph. We are all truly sorry. I believe his not receiving your letter is the reason he has not returned to the Ponderosa. His unhappiness at what he thought was your turning from him made him decide to stay here. We made a terrible mistake and we feel that our encouraging him to stay permanently caused him great suffering and lead to the unpleasantness that forced him to leave. We ask your forgiveness and his.

Francois DesVries.
Ben's grief was overwhelming. Joe was gone, vanished it seemed without a trace.

On December 15th Joe was settled in a tiny way station somewhere in the mountains in Western Texas. A howling blizzard had trapped him there for almost a week. His initial travels had taken him into Texas and he had enjoyed a pleasant stage ride. Abruptly that came to an end when the stage encountered word of a bad storm up ahead. Joe had alighted in the small town of Dallas and spent the night in a tiny hotel. He was amazed that the weather here could be so mild compared to the heat he had left in Louisiana and the cold storm that lay ahead. He was bemused by the large flat plains expanding in front of him. How different from either place he had lived. Joe thought briefly of settling in this area. Large cattle ranches abounded, especially around the cattle town of Fort Worth. But now was not the time to make such a decision.

He had purchased a sturdy cattle pony the next day and set out to the west. He had made slow progress. Within two days of Dallas the mild weather gave way to a wind that was biting cold and he had made it to the small way station just before the heavy blizzard had set in.

Joe's stay lasted just another day. Finally the storm moved on and the sky cleared.

"Thank you Sam for everything. I don't know how I can repay you." Joe firmly shook the hand of the station's proprietor.

"You're welcome Joe. Are you sure you don't want to stay a little longer? These storms come up awful sudden. I'd sure hate for you to be caught out in another one."

Joe smiled. He was snugly bundled in several layers of warm shirts and sweaters that he had purchased in his travels. They were topped by a long leather duster he had acquired in Dallas. The coat had a removable fur lining buttoned into it and he felt able to face anything. Pulling his hat down he smiled. "No Sam. I'm three months late as it is."

"Got folks expecting ya?

"No Sam. They ain't expecting me at all. I'm just missing them something fierce." Joe nodded and swung his horse's head to the northwest. He urged her into a steady walk and off they went. Sam waved them off, wondering if anyone would ever see horse and rider again.

Joe rode steadily for the next four days, finding caves and rock formations to shelter in each evening. He was wearing most of his clothing for warmth and his horse carried little but food for them both and some rudimentary camping supplies. He was lucky to shoot some fresh game almost every day with the new rifle he had purchased along with his horse.

When Joe finally made it to the tiny town of Preston on the border of Nevada and Arizona he and his horse were both exhausted. He stabled the horse in the livery and was able to obtain lodging in a tiny hotel known as the Juniper House, Run by a Mexican family. He ate enormously that night, dining on chili con carne and tortillas. He planned his route carefully, taking advantage of the knowledge of the locals in terms of the best route to Virginia City. If the weather held he should be home in less than a week's time.

Joe lay on his bed thinking of what he would find when he arrived home. He wasn't sure what kind of welcome it would be, but he unexpectedly grinned, it sure would be a surprise.
 

On Christmas Eve Lance and Katie Jurgens had ridden into Virginia City to pick up a Christmas present for their mother. They had learned long ago that while their mother was generally a fine reserved woman, at Christmas she became ruthless, tearing the house apart searching for her gifts. As a result her gifts were scattered by her family all over the Virginia City area.

Package in hand Lance and Katie decided to stop at Henri's restaurant for a hot drink and some food. Lance wrapped his hands around the hot cup, warming them. He sighed. His sister eyed him intently. The two had become closer over the past four months, each missing Little Joe in their own way. "Lance, are you ok?"

"I'm fine Katie, just missing him."

Katie suddenly felt herself becoming angry with Little Joe. "You know Lance, I'm just sick of Little Joe, it's been Joe this and Joe that for the last four months. I miss him too, but this is getting out of hand. Knowing Joe he's hold up in some cantina in Texas with a bunch of pretty girls and some jugs of whisky."

"Katie, that ain't true and you know it. Joe is on his way home, or at least trying. Or he's..." Lance paused and cast down his eyes.

Katie found tears rising in her eyes, and was suddenly ashamed of her anger. Lance was right. Joe could be dead right now and they might never know.

Across the room Roy Coffee and Doc Martin were watching the two young people. "Paul, I have a mind to lock Joe Cartwright up when and if he ever makes it back to town. Lock him up where everybody will know exactly where he is and what he's doing at any given time."

"I know Roy, it's really tearing people up. It was bad enough watching Ben and the boys fretting when they thought he wasn't going to come home because he was going to be some kind of rich plantation owner. But this, not knowing if he's dead or alive, the entire town is devastated. Do you know every patient I've had for two weeks has mentioned how worried they are about him? It's almost as if he's causing a small epidemic all on his own."

"That boy can cause more trouble when he's gone than a whole bar full of drunks with loaded pistols and empty bottles on a Saturday night."

Paul nodded in agreement. "And he sure can get people riled up when he's around. Remember that bull fight last year. He damn near destroyed the whole territory. And that time with the elephant. His poor father."

"He had some help from those two brothers of his. It's amazing what he can talk them into. Even somebody like Adam Cartwright, the most level headed man I've ever met. Remember when Joe decided to help court Miss Abigail Jones. Poor Adam nearly ended up marching down the aisle."

"Imagine what kind of a ruckus he caused down there in New Orleans." Paul smiled fondly. Joe was truly one of his favorite people.

"Did you see that picture Paul, the one of Joe with those folks of his?"

"Eerie wasn't it. It was like there was four of him." Paul suddenly threw back his head and laughed out loud.

Roy stared at him. "What's so funny?"

"If they all look that much like him, what if they all acted like him too." Paul pictured his infirmary being packed full of Joe Cartwrights, all insisting they were ok while waving off his ministrations. There was never anyone like that boy for ignoring a doctor's advice.

Roy thought on that and suddenly a gurgling laugh began to rumble in his throat. Finally he began to whoop. "Heaven help Ben Cartwright if those other three ever come to visit." They laughed together fondly thinking of the young man that each, in their own way, considered a son. Then the two men sobered, "Heaven help Ben Cartwright and all of us if Joe never makes it home."

On Christmas Eve, Ben, Hoss and Adam had just about given up hope. A final flurry of telegrams in the past two days had confirmed it, no news of Joe in Boston, San Francisco and New Orleans. Everyone begged of word for the wanderer. All they knew was that Joe had been missing almost a month. The news of fierce storms to the east and south confirmed their fears, Joe was lost or stranded or worse.

Finally, they decorated the house for the traditional Ponderosa Christmas party the next evening. Ben had decided to keep with their tradition even though no one was in the Christmas spirit. As they finished decorating the tree Adam opened the final box of ornaments and stared somberly down. Ben and Hoss came and the three mutely gazed at the box's contents.

Inside were the four stocking they had always hung by the fire. Family tradition had each of them purchase or make gifts with which to fill each other's stockings. Finely stitched across the top of each, by Joe's mother many years before, were each of their names. Joe's stocking was the biggest by far, he had confiscated it from Hoss who even as a youngster had the biggest feet in the family. Also in the box was a gold star that by family tradition Joe as the youngest had always placed at the top of the tree.

Ben sighed, "I don't see how we can put the star up this year boys."

"I agree Pa, but we got to hang our stockings." Hoss asserted.

Adam nodded then paused. "I think we should save Joe's for when he comes home."

The others agreed and finally they were done, the stockings hanging by the fire and the tree looking somehow oddly unfinished without the star. When the clock finally chimed eleven Ben banked the fire and the three of them went up to bed.

Four hours later, in the dead of night, the front door of the house slowly swung open. Joe crept in the door carrying his travel pack slung over one shoulder, like a very young Kris Kringle. He crept to the sideboard and carefully lit a small candle. He had ridden most of the day and night, too excited by his proximity to the Ponderosa to be willing or able to sleep. It was a clear night with a full moon shining like a beacon, lighting his way home.

He placed his bag on the table next to the couch and gazed around him. He saw with a start that his green jacket still hung where he had left it four months before and he briefly smiled. He turned to the fireplace and his smile dimmed as he saw only three full stockings hanging in a row. He moved to the fireplace and saw his own stocking, full of presents laid carefully next to the fireplace on a small table. He surveyed the huge tree and saw there was no star on top. They had remembered him, in their own way. He stealthily reached for the box containing the star and when he found it he crept up to the tree and balancing on a chair was able to place the star on top. He opened his travel pack and extracting three small packages carefully placed one in each stocking.

Finally exhausted he decided to rest on the couch rather than risk disturbing his father and brothers by going upstairs. Time enough for that when they saw him the next day. Joe stretched out on the couch still wearing his duster and boots and went to sleep.

Ben awoke at about seven the next morning. As was his tradition he put on his robe and slippers and went to wake his two sons. Joe and Hoss bid their father a Merry Christmas and put on their robes and slippers and followed their father to the top of the stairs. Each had placed their gifts under the tree the night before and filled their stockings.

As Ben started down the stairs a glint caught his eye and he paused. There on the top of the tree was the gold star. He felt a small surge of pain. He turned to his sons. "I thought we agreed, no star."

"We did Pa." Hoss asserted. "Maybe Hop Sing did it?" Adam suggested.

Ben shrugged and continued down the stairs. As they moved past the tree that obstructed their view of the living room the three were riveted by the sight of a sleeping figure sprawled on the couch. Exchanging astonished looks, they quietly moved to the couch and looked down on the sleeping face of Little Joe.

Joe was deeply asleep, his face ruddy from windburn and sun and his long curly hair tumbled about. He looked much thinner to Ben and he wondered when Joe had last eaten. Joe's long duster covered him completely and Ben found himself wondering if Joe had changed so much on the outside how much had he changed inside.

Finally, hardly daring to breathe Ben reached down and gently stroked Joe's curls away from his forehead. How much he had missed his son's curls. "Joe, son, its time to wake up."

Joe remained still sound asleep.

Ben grimaced at Adam who leaned down and gently shaking his shoulder said, "Hey Joe, come on buddy it's time to wake up."

Joe responded by gesturing him away and rolling away from him.

The three men now exchanged amused looks. All this time they had worried and waited for Joe's return and now they couldn't wake him up. Finally Ben nodded at Hoss.

"Hey Shortshanks get up." Hoss bellowed in Joe's ear. Joe bolted upright on the couch, smacking his head directly into Hoss' chin and giving a yelp of pain mixed with surprise, "Merde." He rubbed the top of his head and blinked sleepily at his father and his brothers.

"Bonjour. Joyeux Noel." Joe said a few more words in his now fluent French then unable to repress it he grinned happily at the astonished looks on his father and brothers faces. No matter what else happened, no matter what else was said, he was happy to see them. He had come home.
 

Joe's smile slowly faded as he took in his family's unsmiling faces. The three men remained frozen in place, shocked by Joe's French words and his appearance. Hoss was the first to break free from his paralysis, suddenly swooping down on Joe and catching him in his arms. "Joe," he shouted with delight. He straightened up and Joe was pulled off the couch and upright.

Joe returned Hoss's hug fiercely, he found himself fighting back the tears welling in his eyes. "Hey Hoss." Hoss finally put Joe down and stepped back from him, holding on to his shoulders.

Joe turned to his father and brother. "Pa, Adam." Joe eyed them warily. He wasn't sure how his father was feeling about him, was he still angry? Joe wasn't sure.

Ben stepped forward and silently embraced his son. Joe heaved a sigh of relief and hugged his father back. Ben released him and Joe was swept into his brother Adam's arms as well. Finally Joe was released and stood facing his father again.

"Young man, would you mind telling me where you have been for the last month? We have been worried sick about you." Ben looked at Joe intently.

"You have? How could you know?" Who told y'all I was comin'?" Joe's voice suddenly twanged with the soft southern accent of the DesVries. The three started in surprise. Joe was bewildered. He had obviously surprised his father and brothers, which had been his intention. But how could they know when he left New Orleans?

"I think we have quite a bit of catching up to do Pa. Why don't we get some food and talk everything through." Adam intervened. He was as curious as his father to know where Joe had been but he could see how thin Joe was and knew they needed to get some food in him.

Joe smiled in agreement and turned to go to the dining room, shedding his long duster as he went. Underneath he was dressed simply in a pair of faded denim jeans and a blue flannel shirt with a bulky wool sweater over it. Hop Sing chose that moment to come bustling from the kitchen with a platter of eggs and bacon in hand. The sight of Little Joe, seemingly materialized right before his eyes, caused Hop Sing to drop the platter on the table with a clatter. The tiny man bustled quickly over to Joe and embraced him fervently, chattering feverishly in Chinese. Joe hugged him back and immediately began to answer. The two talked intently for several moments before they both turned to see the three Cartwrights staring at them.

Ben was thrilled to finally have his suspicions confirmed about Joe's fluency in Chinese. Hoss and Adam were just amazed.

Joe smiled sheepishly. "We were, ummm, just catching up. Let's eat." He turned to Hop Sing, "Hop Sing this is a special occasion, why don't you join us?"

Hop Sing nodded and went into the kitchen to fetch the rest of the food. When he came back and seated himself at the table Joe gave a huge grin of satisfaction. How his Aunt Charlotte would hate this.

"Joseph, we're waiting for an explanation. Where have you been for the last month?"

"Well, I've been traveling Pa. But how did you know I'd left? I hadn't heard from you in months. I thought...' Joe stopped, he didn't know how to tell his father what he had been assuming.

"Joe, we got a telegram from Sylvie and Duncan and they said.." Ben was interrupted as Joe gasped aloud.

"You did. Terrific. Did they make it to San Francisco ok? Did they meet up with Sam? Is he publishing Duncan's novel? Is Duncan working for the newspaper now? How was the wedding?"Joe was filled with questions.

"Joe, I don't know. All I do know was that they were wondering how your trip was and when to expect you in San Francisco? They said that you were traveling here and then going on to see them. That was the second telegram you received."

"The second telegram. Who was the first one from?" Joe was bewildered.

"The first was from my grandfather Joe. He told us you had sent him a package and he hoped your travels to the Ponderosa had gone well." Adam leaned forward. "What package Joe?"

Joe squirmed slightly. "Just something I needed to get to him Adam. So when you got the telegrams what did you do? Did you get in touch with Uncle Francois?" Joe turned to his father.

"Yes Joe. He told us you had left and that something unfortunate had happened. He also told us you hadn't received my letter. It seems your cousin Jacques had decided that the best way to keep you there was to hide it from you. They are all terribly sorry."

Joe didn't know what to do or where to look. Ben was concerned, as Joe seemed to shrink in on himself. "Letter Pa. What letter?"

"The letter I sent you Joe, in reply to the one you sent me."

"You answered my letter?" Joe's voice was scarcely above a whisper. Hoss and Adam watched their brother with concern. Almost imperceptibly they could feel Joe withdrawing from all of them.

Ben intervened. "Joe, you were obviously very hurt when you sent your letter. I understood that. I told you in the letter that your mother had never spoken of her family to me and that we all love you very much. And we wanted you back."

Joe simply sat still, staring at his father wide-eyed. All that pain, all those terrible things that had happened, that might not have happened if he had only known. If he had never thought that his father had turned away from him he would never have thought to stay in Louisiana and try and make a life there. He never would have gotten so involved with everything that was happening at the plantation. He stopped himself, he had caused some damage it was true but he had been able to help Sylvie and Duncan, Claire and inadvertently Uncle Francois and Jacques who were now free of Charlotte.

Joe blinked suddenly as he realized his father was speaking to him. "I'm sorry Pa, what did you say?"

"Joe, I asked if you were all right?" Ben was worried, for a moment Joe had seemed miles away from them.

"Yes Pa, I'm fine. I was just thinking of something. Poor little Jacques. he really did want me to stay with him. I hope his father wasn't too hard on him."

"Joe, we're still waiting to hear what happened." Ben, Hoss, Adam and Hop Sing all waited patiently for Joe to tell his story.

"Well Pa, I guess you could say there was a bit of a ruckus. You see Sylvie was engaged to Paul Beauregard. But Sylvie was really in love with Paul's brother Duncan. And well that just didn't seem right to me." Joe looked at his father and brothers for affirmation. All three nodded in agreement. "So you see I had to do something, they needed my help."
"Why didn't they just tell their folks they were engaged to the wrong people and they wanted to marry each other?"

"See Hoss, down there a lot of the families still arrange marriages. Paul was a good match for Sylvie cause he was the oldest and would inherit the plantation, while Duncan was the younger brother, he got nothing. Neither family was going to listen to what Sylvie and Duncan wanted."

"So what did you do?" Hoss leaned forward.

"Well, the problem was getting them out of town together and not getting caught. So we waited until the night before the wedding and I helped them elope."

"What do you mean helped them elope?" Ben frowned.

"Well, I got them out of the house, got them transportation, arranged for the minister and figured out the best way for them to get away. And I gave them some traveling advice, I mean like clothes and money and things." Joe shrugged.

"So what happened?" Ben was fascinated, Joe had planned an elopement for these people, no wonder they felt they owed him so much. He wondered just how Joe knew how to go about such a thing then realized that there are some things he was better off not knowing.

"They got away just fine. But I got caught." Joe sighed. He would never forget that horrible moment when Charlotte accused him in front of the whole family.

"Joseph, what happened?" Ben looked at his son with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Joe shrugged his shoulders, "Sylvie's finace got a bit upset and challenged me to a duel."

All three gaped at him. "Really Joe, with epees?" Adam was impressed. Ben was horrified.

"No Adam, you see when you are challenged to a duel you get to be the one who picks the weapon. So I chose guns."

Ben buried his head in his hands.

"Pa are you ok?" Joe came around the table and put his hand on his father's shoulders.

"Did you kill him Joe?" Ben didn't look up.

"Oh no Pa, I didn't want to kill Paul. I mean I didn't like him very much but he really was mad about Sylvie going off and everything. No I just shot him in the arm. I mean I tried to have everyone warn him as best I could. I told Phillipe what I could do and Francois came and watched me shoot targets. I didn't know what else to do to get Paul to back down. I'm sure Paul will be just fine." Joe patted his father's shoulder and sat back down.

Ben just sat shaking his head. All he could think of was poor Francois, that poor man who thought he was getting a sweet kid and was suddenly confronted with his nephew the gunman. Suddenly Ben burst out laughing.

His three sons gazed at him in surprise. "What's so funny Pa?" Hoss asked curiously.

"Well boys, remember that things in New Orleans are done slightly differently. If I know Joe here he must have walked out looking like a gunslinger, he probably scared all those folks half to death." Ben continued to chuckle.

Joe smiled and nodded his agreement. "They weren't real happy Pa. Anyway, after that plus everything else that happened I had to leave."

"So where have you been?" Hoss asked. He could tell more had happened but Joe was seemingly reluctant to talk about it. Hoss figured that Joe would tell them all the other stuff that happened when he was ready.

"Well, I had to go to New Orleans for a few days to take care of," Joe paused, "business. Then I packaged up all my things to be shipped in the spring. Wait'll y'all see all the fancy clothes I ended up with Hoss, you'll never believe what they wear down there, they've got special clothes for just about everything. Then I got on the stage and started heading west."

"You took the stage? All the way here?" Adam was surprised. The stage generally stopped running in November when the snows set in.

"Oh no, only as far as this little town in Texas, Dallas. That's where I bought my new horse, he's out in the barn. And I got my warm coat there too. Then I just started riding."

Ben's brow furrowed, "Are you telling me you rode here? By yourself? What about the storms?"

"I only got about as far as the edge of Texas when I got caught in a blizzard. I had to hole up at a Way Station for about a week. I own it by the way."

"Own what Joe?"
"The Way Station. I won it in a poker game. I told Sam he could keep all the money and pay all the expenses, but I do own it now." Joe smiled in satisfaction.

Ben simply shook his head in disbelief. He thought briefly of locking his son in his room for the rest of his life simply to protect the rest of the world from Little Joe.

"That slowed me down a bit but I just pushed on. I only got stopped once or twice for the weather after that. I just didn't make the time that I thought I would make." Joe stopped to eat some more food. He was suddenly ravenous.

Ben refrained from asking anymore questions. He could see Joe needed to eat so he dug into his food as well. Throughout the meal everyone stole peeks at Joe. Ben marveled at how different his son appeared, there was something about him, like he wasn't really comfortable to be home. Ben knew that there was a lot more to be discussed. Joe was obviously not telling them everything. Ben looked forward to speaking to him later in private.

Breakfast over everyone adjourned to the livingroom. "Pa, aren't you going to open your presents?" Joe asked.

Ben nodded and they began the distribution of presents. Soon there was a pile in front of everyone, including Joe. Joe blinked his eyes rapidly, he was really touched his family had remembered him. He hadn't been able to bring much with him, he was hoping that the presents in each stocking would be enough. As was their tradition each man started with his stocking. As Joe looked on Pa, Hoss and Adam each pulled an oddly wrapped bundle from the tops of their stockings. They looked at each other then of one accord all turned to Joe.

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to pack more with me. There are some gifts in my luggage that should be arriving in April. Go ahead, open them." Hoss and Adam both looked to Ben first.

Ben pulled the wrapping paper away from the package and gasped in surprise. There was a beautifully painted miniature portrait of a young girl, about 13 years old. Ben knew immediately that it was Marie. The resemblance to the son sitting in front of him was startling and Ben knew that he would treasure it forever. "Joe, it's beautiful, but do you really want to give it up?"

Joe merely nodded and smiled. He turned to look at Adam who fumbled slightly with the small package. It contained a tiny wooden box beautifully hand painted. He lifted the lid off the box and inside found a tiny hand carved guitar. Adam was amazed at the beauty of the tiny box and the guitar. He looked up at Joe who merely sat smiling at him. "Mama painted the box Adam. The guitar was a gift from her grandfather. She had it since she was a little girl and she made the box specially to keep the guitar in. It just seemed to be right for you."

"Joe, are you sure?" Adam was feeling slightly uneasy. He had been a bit unnerved ever since he had found out that Joe was in touch with his grandfather. Grandpa Stoddard was Adam's family, he had never thought to share him with his brothers, even though as far as they had known Joe had no grandparents of his own. But that Joe would share something like this that his mother had made, Adam just was overwhelmed.

"Yes. I realized something in New Orleans. That my mother was your mother and Hoss's mother too. I mean she married Pa and took both of you on. It wouldn't be fair for me to act like she just belonged to me. I saw a bit too much of that for my taste."Joe's face wrinkled in disgust at the thought of how Mr. Kenner treated all of his daughters Anne, Sarabeth and Claire. He treated his daughters as if they were his belongings, to be traded for land, power or money.

Joe looked over at Hoss who was carefully opening his tiny package. His fingers fumbled slightly and he pulled from the package a beautifully made locket of pure silver. Hoss opened it carefully and saw inside a picture of Joe on one side and a picture of Joe's mother on the other. He beamed at his younger brother, his throat tightening up so much he couldn't speak. Joe simply smiled back, pleased with all his gifts. "It was one of Mama's when she was a girl. I thought you might like it. I did put in the picture of myself. They had a photographer do a lot of pictures at one of the engagement parties and Francois gave me copies. I thought you'd like this one for your own."

Ben cleared his throat, he was also touched by the emotion of the moment, "Well boys we better get a move on, we have a party to throw this evening."

The next hour passed happily with everyone opening presents. Joe was thrilled with the gifts his father and brothers had given him, he hadn't expected anything. Of course he was still amazed that they had known he was trying to get to them. Try to keep a secret in this family.

Joe yawned hugely as he watched Hoss opening a final present from Adam. He still hadn't had anywhere near enough sleep and he longed for a nap. As if reading his thoughts Ben turned to him and said, "Joe, why don't you go upstairs and take a rest. You haven't had much sleep. We'll call you in plenty of time to get ready for the party."

"Sure Pa." Joe climbed to his feet and grabbed his travel bag and saddle bag from the spot where they rested near the end table. He climbed onto the bottom stair and turned to look back at his family. "You know, it is very nice to see all of you again. I missed you." Joe smiled at them all, almost sadly and moved up the stairs.

"Pa, do you think there's something funny going on with Joe?"

"There's definitely something he isn't telling us. I think we should let him decide what to tell us and when. We can't do much more than be there to listen."

"Pa, he didn't talk about going to San Francisco. You ain't gonna let him go are you?" Hoss asked anxiously, nervously shredding some wrapping paper between his fingers.
"I don't see how we can stop him Hoss. We just have to make sure he knows that we love him and we want him to stay here with us."

"Pa, you didn't ask him about the name change or the plantation."Adam pressed his father. He knew that these were Ben's greatest concerns.

"Adam, he's exhausted and you saw how emotional he got talking about the elopement. We just have to be patient."

A few hours later the house was ready for the party. Ben climbed the stairs to get cleaned up and changed and stopped outside Joe's door. Knocking lightly he opened the door. He found Joe lying in his travel clothes underneath his quilt, his dusty boots on the floor next to the bed. Joe appeared to be sound asleep. Ben examined his youngest son's face closely. Joe looked thinner than usual but fit. Hop Sing would be working on fattening him up soon enough.

"Joe, son, it's time to wake up." Ben gently shook Joe by his shoulder.

Joe woke quickly and sat up, running his hands through his long curls. "Hey Pa. What time is it?"

"About four. The party starts in about two hours. I just wanted to see if you had everything you need."

"Are my clothes still here?" Joe asked.

"Why of course Joe. What did you think?"

Joe flinched slightly. "Well Pa, I guess when I didn't hear from you I thought you might have decided to move on. And when Lance told me about you getting married."

"Married?" Ben shouted and reared back and nearly slid off the edge of Joe's bed.

Hoss and Adam both ran down the hall and burst into Joe's room. "Who's married Pa? Joe-- are you?" Hoss and Adam gaped at their younger brother.

"No, no, it's Pa."

Ben stood up and put his hands on his hips. "Now just a minute. Who am I supposed to be marrying?"

"Well Lance said you were seeing some new woman in town Mrs. Jenks. And that he, Hoss and Adam were doing all the things that they normally did with me with her son Todd. He told me he thought that you and she were...' Joe trailed off uncomfortably. He suddenly realized how silly this might sound.

"Joe, Ms. Jenks got married to old Fred Tucker two months ago. We ain't seen Todd since that night we had to drag him out of the saloon, he's the most obnoxious kid I ever saw." Hoss studied his brother's face. "Joe, you didn't think that we were replacing you did you?"

Joe's silence gave the three of them the answer they were looking for. "Joe, how could you think such a thing?" Ben sat next to Joe and put his arm around his shoulders.

"Well Pa, when I heard you were seeing this woman and I didn't hear from you I figured that y'all had moved on. That's why I..." Joe hesitated then spoke, "That's why I told Aunt Felicia I would stay on and run her plantation for her. They all seemed to want me so much. And things were going so well then with the horse business Phil and I started together." Joe struggled to explain his feelings.

"Joe, no matter what happens we would never turn our backs on you. I'm so sorry we didn't try to write again. But the weather turned bad early, and there didn't seem to be any good way to get in touch."

"Hoss even tried to run off to go get you Joe." Adam added. "We had to head him off once and Hop Sing had to stop him too."

"Well shucks Adam, seemed to me somebody had to go drag this knucklehead home where he belongs." Hoss smiled at Joe and ruffled his hair.

"Boys, let's give Joe some peace so he can greet our guests in his usual style." Hoss and Adam left. Ben hovered briefly in the doorway.

"Joe? How did you leave it with your Aunt?" Ben asked.

Joe's eyes briefly widened. "I don't know what she plans to do Pa. I do want to go see her again some day. She was like a mother to me, I'll miss her probably most of all." Joe's face was momentarily sad. "Joe, we'll go back and see her together someday. I promise." Ben paused but as Joe remained silent he turned and left the room.

Joe got cleaned up. Hop Sing had brought up bath water for Joe so that he could take the first hot bath he'd had since leaving New Orleans. Once Joe had soaked away all the dirt he got dressed carefully. He pulled from his travel pack the beautiful white silk shirt Francois had given him and he put it on with his gray dress pants, which were just a bit loose on him. He carefully tied his black tie and brushed his hair.

Hoss came in shortly before the first guest was set to arrive. "Hey Joe."

"Hey Hoss." Joe spared his brother only a brief glance, he was focused on getting his curls under control.

"Joe, do you miss those folks back in New Orleans?"

Joe turned and considered his brother carefully. Hoss had a slightly anxious look on his face. "Yeah Hoss I do. I love them all a lot. Just because there were some problems doesn't mean I don't love them."

"That cousin Phillipe, you and he were real close. I was real surprised when I saw that picture you sent, he looked a lot like you."

"I have some others here." Joe opened his pack and carefully drew out a stiff paper envelope. He opened it and handed a small sheaf of pictures to Hoss. Hoss carefully handled the photographs. The first was of Joe and Phillipe in matching riding clothes. Hoss couldn't believe how alike they are. The next showed Joe, Sylvie, Jacques, Phillipe, and two strangers.

"Who's this Joe?" Joe came over and looked at the picture.

"Those are Paul and Duncan Beauregard." Joe indicated each as he spoke their name.

"Sylvie looks like you too." Hoss sounded almost sad. Joe tilted his head to see his older brother's face.

"Hoss what's wrong?" Joe sat next to Hoss on the bed.

Hoss shuffled the pictures and came to one that showed all the DesVries together with Joe. He held it out to Joe. "Look at this one Joe."

Joe picked up the picture and scrutinized it carefully. "Yes."

"Don't that look like a family?" Hoss asked.

"Well it is a family Hoss." Joe spoke patiently but he was mystified.

"Joe, you look like you are a part of that family. More than you do in any of the pictures with Pa, Adam and me. I just figured that you look like you belong there more than you do here. You belong with all them fancy clothes and horses and women."

Joe started at the word women. "Hoss, I may look like I belong there, they are part of my family, someday when you get a chance to meet them I hope they'll be a part of yours too. But I don't belong there where it counts, in here." Joe pointed to his heart. "I will go back and visit and I hope that they'll all come to see me someday. But I don't belong there." Joe paused and thought to himself, I don't belong anywhere anymore.

Hoss glanced at his brother then heaved a sigh of relief. "Good." Hoss lowered his voice, "Hey Joe."

"Yeah Hoss."

"Did you see any of those fancy women while you was down there in New Orleans?" Hoss glanced at the door, fearful his father would overhear.

"Well Hoss, I went to this place called the Swamp with my Great Uncle Lucien. He showed me places like I never seen before. And there was this woman." Joe hesitated, Hoss was not the most sophisticated of men. "Let's just say Hoss that I ain't never seen a woman like that before and may never again." Joe's mind flashed briefly to his evening with Chantal.

Hoss nodded. "Hey Joe, did ya?" Hoss's cheeks reddened.

Joe smiled impishly. "Did I what?"

"You know." Hoss rolled his eyes and his cheeks blushed even darker.

"Hoss, a gentleman never discusses such things." Joe winked at his brother and Hoss was left with the very distinct impression that Joe had just answered his question.

"You ready?" Hoss looked at his younger brother. He was surprised to see that Joe looked slightly uneasy. "You ok?"

"Hoss, what if everybody is sorry to see me? What if they are all mad at me for leaving?" Joe wasn't sure he could face that.

"Joe, you don't have anything to worry about. Everybody's gonna be so excited to see you, you can't even imagine."

Joe and Hoss headed downstairs where Pa and Adam waited. Joe straightened his shoulders and marched up to his father. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He turned to speak to his father just as they heard the first of the partygoers. Ben went to the door and opened it to greet the Jurgens family.

Thomas Jurgens and his wife came through the door first. Joe stepped deftly behind his two brothers, remaining hidden from view. Lance and his brothers and sisters followed. Lance stepped forward to greet Hoss and Adam. "Merry Christmas Hoss, Adam." Lance's smile was sincere but didn't reach his blue eyes, which held a hint of sadness.

"Merry Christmas Lance." They said in unison and stepped apart revealing a smiling Little Joe.

Lance stared dumfounded and Joe's smile quivered uncertainly. "Joe." Lance shouted and stepped forward and picked Joe up and hugged him.

"Lance, put me down." Joe squirmed but hugged his friend back enthusiastically.

Lance's parents smiled in relief and Tom turned to Ben. "When?"

"We found him asleep on the couch early this morning. He's been on the road for over a month trying to get here."
"Thank god he's all right." Tom looked at his son who was standing with his arm around Joe as Joe greeted Lance's brothers and sisters. Katie was hugging Joe enthusiastically. Tom looked at his youngest son's face shining with relief, his blue eyes sparkling, as they hadn't for months. "Thank god, they both are."

Joe was smiling at Katie but Ben could see he looked a little uncomfortable. Ben wondered briefly about the women that Joe had met while he was traveling. His son was a magnet for women, he had seen that frequently throughout the last few years, since Joe had started dating. He wondered what kinds of women he had met. If Joe's cousin Phillipe was anything like Joe they must have cut quite a swathe through the young women of Louisiana.

A knock on the door roused Ben and he opened it to the smiling faces of the Coffees and the Martins. As they filed in they all immediately saw Little Joe surrounded by his friends and brothers. Nancy Coffee squealed with delight and launched herself at Joe. Roy and Doc Martin exchanged measured glances and greeted Ben with reserve. Ben greeted them warmly then turned to greet even more partygoers.

Two hours later Joe found himself sitting on the landing of the staircase eating some of the Christmas treats Hop Sing had prepared. Lance and Nancy were sitting with him, filling him in on the goings on in Virginia City during his time away.

"So Pa wasn't dating Mrs. Jenks at all?"

"Sorry Joe." Lance cast an apologetic look at Joe.

Joe smiled, "That's ok Lance. I guess I jumped to a lot of conclusions. Things will work out eventually." Joe noticed that Doc Martin and Roy Coffee were over in the corner casting disapproving looks his way. "Nancy, what's going on with your father. He and the Doc have been glaring at me all evening."

"They're a little upset with you Joe. A lot happened while you were gone. Your father and brothers were really upset. They were both worried about your Pa." Nancy smiled at Joe. "You might try going over there and talking to them instead of just sitting here worrying."

Joe turned to ask how she knew he was worried and surprised both Lance and Nancy smiling at him knowingly. "Ok, Ok, I'm going." Joe rose to his feet and began to move across the room. For a moment he thought the two men were going to get up and run but they obviously decided to stay and confront him.

"Doc, Roy." Joe held out hi hand. Almost reluctantly they both shook his hand. "I understand you are both upset with me. Tell me what's going on."

Roy and Doc Martin exchanged sidelong glances, obviously waiting for one to speak. Roy finally took a breath and started. "Joe, we're both a mite disappointed in you. I can understand you wanting your own plantation and all that money. But giving up your name." Both men shook their heads.

Joe was dumfounded. "I don't understand. What do you mean giving up my name."

"Joe, don't try to deny it, we all heard all about it." Joe was seriously puzzled.

"What did you hear?" Joe leaned in, his face serious and intense. Roy was startled and took a step back. "Roy, tell me." Roy explained what everyone had learned from Will when he had returned from Louisiana.

"Does Pa know?" Joe was horrified. His face had gone pale and his eyes were tortured.

"Joe,' Doc Martin took his arm. "Why did you do it?"

"I didn't do it." Joe nearly shouted. "It was a mistake that the announcer made. We heard it and we laughed about it. We had named our business JC & P DesVries because we knew the DesVries name would bring in business. We gave them the business name and both our names. But we look so much alike that the announcer assumed Cartwright was my middle name and dropped it in the Announcement. We laughed about it. We even played a twin prank on the family, it was all so easy. Oh my god." Joe was appalled at the thought of the amount of pain this must have caused his father and brothers. He felt as if he had been struck a massive body blow. He wouldn't be surprised if they had disowned him. But how could they think he would do that? Give up his name, Joe thought of how proudly he had defended the Cartwright name and his being a cowboy to his Aunt Charlotte. That his father could believe that of him.

Roy and Doc Martin were stunned. "Oh Joe, we're so sorry. Everyone was so worried when no one heard from you. Then when we heard you gave up your name, well it just seemed to destroy your father. Son, are you ok?" Doc Martin put his hands on Joe's shoulders and turned him around. Joe was still pale and he seemed to almost shrink in on himself.

Joe nodded blindly then said, "Excuse me" and left the room. He went out the front door and went to the edge of the porch. He stood outside and looked up at the sky. It was so different from Louisiana, the cold making the sky crystal clear with stars so bright you could almost touch them. Joe breathed deeply, reveling in the cold air which caused his lungs to ache. Joe was torn between a desire to race to the barn and escape from this place, which suddenly seemed to imprison him, and an equally strong desire to move back inside to the welcoming warm embrace of the house.

He turned and peeked in the window. His father and brothers were laughing and talking to the neighbors in front of the fireplace. They belonged here. Joe shook his head sadly and blindly turned away. He didn't feel he belonged here anymore. He had betrayed his father and brothers, by both his words and actions. Not in the way everyone else thought he had. But by accepting Belle Mer he had turned away from his family, he had been thinking only of himself, his happiness. Would he be able to stay here now that he had experienced what being free and independent was like?

In the house Roy and Paul discussed what they had done softly. Both had seen the pain in Joe's eyes. They agreed what must be done and quickly found Ben and pulled him into the kitchen, away from the other guests. Hoss and Adam followed.

"Ben we found out something from Joe." Paul started.

"What is it?" Ben stared at his two closest friends.

"Ben, Joe never gave up his name, it was a mistake the announcer at the horse show made."

"What?" Ben, Hoss and Adam crowded around the two men. "What did you say?"

"Ben, it was all a mistake. Joe never gave it a thought, how could he know you'd find out? I'm sorry Ben. We've misjudged him very badly. We didn't mean to hurt him but I'm afraid we have." Paul spoke softly.

"Ben, I have a feeling that there's a lot of other things we might not know about what went on down there." Roy added.

"What do you mean Roy?"

"I don't know exactly. I just get a feeling that there's a lot he ain't telling us. I don't think this is over yet."

"Hoss, would you go rouse your brother? He may be used to sleeping half the day in New Orleans, but he'd better get used to getting up with the sun again" Ben said, his stern tone belied by his smile. Actually breakfast had been over for several hours, but Ben had let Joe sleep, knowing he was tired from his long journey. Ben had dispatched one of the men into town to send telegrams to the Beauregards, the DesVries and Adam's grandfather letting them Joe had made it home safely. He had promised them all that Joe would write soon.

"I doubt he ever saw the sun rise once in New Orleans" Adam said, folding his newspaper. "And with all those slaves, he probably didn't do a lick of work there."

"Adam, that will be enough" Ben interrupted, fixing his eldest son with a glare. "I want one thing understood right now..." Ben stopped, seeing his youngest son on the stairs.

"Hey, Pa, Adam" Joe said. "I know y'all ate a long time ago, but d'ya think there's any breakfast left?"

Ben waved him towards the kitchen. "If you can tolerate getting chewed out by Hop Sing, by all means, be my guest."

He watched as Joe disappeared around the corner, and waited for the expected torrent of angry Chinese. When he heard nothing, Ben just smiled to himself. Hop Sing was so glad to have Joe back, he wasn't yelling at him for his late appearance. Ben turned to Adam and Hoss, who had reappeared downstairs. "Boys, can you find something else to do?" he asked quietly. "I would like to spend some time with your brother, alone".

Adam and Hoss looked at each other and Hoss shrugged. "Sure, Pa... but what..."

"No, just go" said Ben impatiently. "The herd needs to be checked on, why don't you do that?"

Adam and Hoss got up and grabbed their coats and gunbelts, neither happy about going out into the cold just so Ben could speak to Joe.

Joe reappeared in the dining room, a plate of ham and eggs in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other and sat down. He dug into his food, barely looking up as his father sat down. Ben sat looking at Joe for a few minutes. He had the odd feeling he was looking at a stranger. Joe finally looked up at him. "Uh, is there something you want Pa? Or are you just gonna sit there and stare at me?" Joe was still smoldering over last night's revelation.

"Joe" Ben spoke softly. "Paul and Roy talked to me last night..."

"Well, good for them" Joe snapped. "I can't believe it Pa. You really thought I'd do something like that, that I'd just give up my name. I didn't have anything to be ashamed of, why would I do it?"

"I'm sorry that you are angry with me" Ben said, taken aback by Joe's obvious irritation. "All I knew was..."

"Yeah, you're right I am angry with you." Joe said, throwing his napkin to the table and standing up.

"Joseph, sit down. SIT DOWN!" Ben commanded. "I am trying to talk with you and straighten this thing out and not only will you not let me get a word in edgewise, you are ready to storm off. Now, PLEASE let me speak." He looked at Joe for a minute, but was unable to read his expression, as his head was bent and his face hidden by his hair. Ben could well guess what expression was on his son's face though.

Joe sat down with a heavy sigh, shook his hair out of his eyes and glared at his father. Ben locked his gaze with Joe's.

"As I was saying, all I knew was that you had changed your name. I didn't know why or that it wasn't true. I had just received an angry letter from you, plus I had heard that you were to take over your aunt's plantation—that she had made you her heir. It sounded to me as if you wanted to cut the ties with us... obviously I was wrong, but that was how it appeared. I never received any other letters from you, Joe. Put yourself in our shoes, how would you have felt?"

Joe said nothing, but looked away. He stared at the table, and toyed with his spoon.

"Pa, if you just knew... if you knew what happened..." Joe said. "It hurts that you had so little faith in me."

"And, don't you think it hurt me, when I received your letter? That you also had so little faith in me? You thought I would deliberately keep you from your mother's family, that I had lied to you. It appeared to you that I had, but it isn't true. And I think maybe you found that out, didn't you?" asked Ben.

Ben reached across the table and placed his hand on his son's arm. "Joe" he said, speaking more softly this time. "What happened there? You said if I only knew—knew what?" Ben asked.

Joe shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He didn't know how much he wanted to tell his Pa. He continued to fiddle with his spoon.

Ben sighed. Joe was a master at avoiding discussion of his problems. Sometimes Ben felt as if he had to wrench the truth from him.

"Look, Joe, it appears we both misjudged each other. I'd say we are even" said Ben, looking hopefully at Joe. Joe nodded and gave Ben a little smile, hoping he would escape this little talk soon. Ben smiled back and squeezed Joe's arm. Joe saw his chance.

"Um, hey Pa, I thought I'd take Cochise for a little ride this morning, I'll be back for lunch, ok?" He got up quickly from the table and grabbed his jacket and gunbelt.

Ben watched him go out the front door, feeling uneasy. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew something was very different about Joe. Not just his hair or his accent, something else.
 

The days passed slowly, the bitter winter weather keeping all the Cartwrights in the house more than they would like. One particularly blustery evening, Hoss remarked to Joe "I sure don't know why you'd want to come back here, Joe-you coulda been down south in all that nice warm weather all winter." He grinned at Joe, who smiled back. Ben, watching the exchange, thought that Hoss seemed to be the only one who had just picked up where he had left off with Joe. He felt a distance between his youngest son and himself, and he observed it between Joe and Adam.

Joe was busy teaching Hoss and Adam a new poker game he had learned in New Orleans. He was sitting on the table with his foot curled under him. Glad for the peaceful evening, Ben did not say a word.
 
 

Joe crossed the yard, whistling softly to himself. He pulled the collar of his long duster up higher around his neck as the wind blew around the corner of the barn. He was going to take Cochise for a ride and check on the stock that was wintering in the south pasture. The cold wind chilled him more than usual, he thought, all that heat down south must have thinned his blood. He opened the barn door, wrestling with it as the wind threatened to whip it off its hinges. Joe banged it shut behind him and squinted as his eyes adjusted to the murky light.

He heard a noise to his right and saw Adam currying Sport. Adam looked up at Joe and regarded his younger brother warily. "Where are you going?" Adam asked.

"None of your business, Adam" Joe said sourly, walking over to Cochise. He began to talk to his horse quietly, and rubbed Cochise's velvety nose, as the horse nickered a greeting at him and nuzzled for treats.

"Christ, it would be nice if you'd talk to me as nice as you talk to that horse" Adam muttered. "Yes, sir that wonderful Southern charm of yours sure is showing. Boy, you sure learned how to treat people well down there, didn't you? "

Joe froze. Without turning around, he asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Adam didn't answer for a moment, then said "nothing, Joe, nothing." He turned to walk out of the stall and was met by Joe.

"I asked you a question, Adam."

"Look, cool off, Joe." Adam said, trying to move by his brother and avoid a confrontation.

Joe stepped in front of Adam, refusing to let him pass.

"You sure are spoiling for a fight, aren't you little brother". Adam said, emphasizing the word "little". He pushed past Joe and stopped, looking at his brother. "What is your problem?"

"You, maybe you are my problem", Joe said through his teeth.

"No, no I don't think so" Adam said calmly. 'Ever since you came home from New Orleans, you have been ready to fight—first with pa, now with me. If you hate it here so much, why didn't you just stay there? No doubt it was much more to your liking, you didn't have to do any work with all those slaves to do it for you, did you? Thought you were going to be the rich plantation owner, and live mighty high, eh? You disgust me." Adam's voice was filled with contempt.

Joe's face was drained of its color. He stood there, stunned, staring at his brother, fire beginning to flare in his eyes.

"How you could have been a part of that evil system there, I'll never know. How you—" Adam continued.

Adam was interrupted by a solid punch to his face. With a howl of rage, Joe leapt on Adam, knocking him to the ground. The two men wrestled on the barn floor, each trying to gain the upper hand. Joe was yelling at Adam throughout, but Adam couldn't understand him. He was too busy trying to detach himself from Joe. Suddenly Joe felt himself yanked upwards by his coat.

"STOP IT!! STOP IT, BOTH OF YOU!" Ben shouted. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, looking first at Adam, then at Joe who was writhing in Hoss' arms. Joe was furious, Ben had never seen him so angry.

"Lemme GO, Hoss!" Joe cried, trying to wrench away from his brother. Thoughts of Peter, the little boy sold away from his mother, the beating he had witnessed, the slave auction and of Claire, most importantly Claire, raced through Joe's mind. How dare Adam say such things to him? "You bastard!" Joe shouted, breaking free from Hoss and launching himself on Adam once more, getting in another punch to Adam's jaw before Ben hauled him off.

"JOSEPH!!" Ben shouted, shaking his son. "Get in the house! NOW!" He propelled Joe physically out of the barn, then turned to his eldest son. "What was that all about, Adam?" Ben asked, breathing hard.

"I don't know, Pa, ask him. He's been spoiling for a fight, and I guess I was the one to give it to him." Adam said, rubbing his jaw.

"What started it, Adam?"

Adam just shook his head. "I guess I did, Pa. I got on him about the slaves..."

"You had to bring that up Adam, didn't you?" Ben said, fixing his eldest son with an angry glare. "The institution of slavery is not your brother's fault! Just because his family kept them didn't mean that he had anything to do with it..."

"I know, I know," said Adam, waving his father off. "Look, I'll apologize to him. I said some pretty awful things, I guess I can't blame him for getting sore at me."

"Well, I am going to speak to him" said Ben. "No matter what you said, it doesn't excuse his behavior either." He turned and walked to the house, shaking his head. Joe and Adam had argued many times, but it always disturbed him when his sons were at odds with each other.

Ben entered the warmth of the house and saw his youngest standing by the fire and staring into it, one foot on the hearth. He walked over to his favorite chair and sat down.

"Joseph, let's not dance around this any more. Ever since you came back, you seem to be angry with one of us, you only seem half here—like your mind is somewhere else. I feel like we are tiptoeing around dynamite—that if we say the wrong thing, you will leave and never return. Are you truly that unhappy to be here?"

Joe shook his head. "No, I guess not." He still didn't look at his father.

"Well, that's an enthusiastic response" said Ben. "Would you have rather stayed in New Orleans, Joe?" Ben asked, fearing Joe's response.

"No" said Joe firmly.

"Well, Joe—I don't know what to do—you seem pretty unhappy at being here, you don't want to be there..." Ben said, exasperated.

"I don't belong anywhere" Joe said suddenly.

Ben looked at Joe in amazement. "You don't belong... of course you do! Joe, this is still your home, we want you here..."

"Well, maybe you do, but Adam doesn't. And I don't belong anymore. I just feel like I don't fit in now." Joe said. "Besides, I think I want to see the world, to go to sea or something. There's so much more out there than just what's here." Joe's face wore a wistful, faraway expression.

Ben looked at Joe, concerned. He recalled having similar conversations with Adam, when Adam first returned from the East. And he always felt that his eldest son, while he had remained at the ranch, had never stopped feeling the constant pull towards civilization. He knew Adam had made some hard choices and sacrifices to stay here. He hated to see Joe facing the same dilemma.

"Well, Joe, perhaps you and Adam have more in common than you thought. I have had this exact conversation with him, when he returned from school. Maybe you should talk to him"
Joe turned and stared at his father with wide eyes. "Ha! Talk to Adam, sure! So he can tell me how disappointing I am? No thanks! You know, that was one thing that WAS better in New Orleans—no older brothers to boss me around." He turned away from his father again.

"Joe, I think this is deeper than just you and Adam. Isn't it?" Ben asked, in a tone that brooked no argument.

Joe didn't answer. He straightened and ran his hands through his hair, pulling it away from his face.

Ben was tired of playing this cat and mouse game with Joe. 'Joseph, I would like to know WHY you left New Orleans. Your uncle hinted at some sort of—unpleasantness, he called it. I thought you were happy there. Now, you tell me you wouldn't go back."

"I was happy at first,' Joe said. Slowly he began to tell his father of everything that happened in New Orleans, omitting the visits to the Swamp. He also did not tell his father of his relationship with Claire and what he had helped her to do. He wasn't sure what his father would think. When he got to the part where he told his Aunt Charlotte that he wasn't ashamed of being a Cartwright, Ben smiled at Joe. As he listened, he began to see that Joe had done a great deal of growing up in New Orleans. He thought briefly that maybe this was why Joe seemed different—he WAS different.

Finally, Joe got to the last day, where he had learned about his mother. As he haltingly described the scene, Ben said "Joe, there is no point in rehashing all that. I'm sorry you found those things out that way. I guess I never thought you needed to know all that—it happened before you were born, and well, I just thought it would hurt you. "

"It was the weirdest thing though, Pa... I am glad I know all this stuff about my Ma now. It makes her seem more real to me. I mean, when Uncle Francois said that she stood up to her whole family and demanded they free their slaves, I was so proud of her." Joe said, his voice thick with emotion.

"And I am proud of you, son" Ben said. "And I cannot tell you how proud your mother would be of you. I was so afraid that I had done the wrong thing, letting you go there and get involved with something she hated very much. I thought that her family would have influenced you to live as they did, to believe in what they do. I was very wrong."

Ben gazed with pride at his youngest, for the first time finally seeing him as a man, rather than a boy. He put his arm around Joe's shoulders and said "This has been a rough day, son. What do you say we head into town for a beer?"

Joe gaped at Ben, surprised, but recovered and with a grin said "sure thing, Pa!" The two of them went out into the cold, slamming the door behind them.
 

That winter was the longest and hardest in memory. The Ponderosa was hit badly, losing a number of steers in storms so severe that no one dared venture from the house or bunkhouse for fear of being lost forever in the blinding whiteness.

Joe had accepted Adam's apology but a distance remained between the two. Joe knew in his heart that if he told his father and brothers everything about Claire and Peter the tension would ease, but something held him back. Joe didn't want to justify himself to his family. Added to this was his ongoing inner struggle to determine exactly what his role was in the family now that he had returned.

Joe's relationship with Hoss was the only thing that had remained unchanged. Hoss was still thrilled to have his little brother back and showed it in a thousand different ways every day.

At last as the end of March drew near the weather cleared and the Cartwrights, cut off from Virginia City for almost two months, were at last able to dispatch men into town to fetch much needed supplies. The four gathered at the end of the day to provide status reports on various parts of the ranch they had finally been able to visit.

Hoss had just finished reporting on their losses from the herd when the sound of wagons approaching caught their attention.

"Let's help Ray and Charlie unload the wagons boys. We'll finish discussing this after dinner." Ben spoke briskly, trying to hide his concern from his sons. The losses could cause considerable problems throughout the year, since they would be able to take fewer head to the market come fall.

Ben stopped short as he opened the door and gaped at the sight that met his eyes. There was not one wagon but two in front of the house. One was full of supplies as expected, the other was loaded to the point of overflowing with trunks of various shapes, sizes and colors.

Adam hadn't noticed his father stopping and plowed into his back, followed by Joe, then Hoss. Joe struggled to get away from his two brothers, laughing and pushing, "Adam, move it." His eyes swung to take in the two wagons and a wide smile spread across his face. "Hey, my things are here."

Ben swung around to face his youngest son and gesturing towards the wagon said, "Joseph, are you telling me that all those things are yours?"

Joe smiled broadly, a genuine smile full of mirth and amusement, "Pa, you ain't seen nothing yet."

Joe went over to the wagon, his father gazing at him in bemusement, he hadn't seen that smile, that genuine smile since that first morning when Joe had woken up on the couch Christmas morning. Had they made things so hard on Joe somehow that he wasn't happy anymore?

"Help me with all this stuff Hoss. Let's take it all up to my room." Joe called to his big brother. The two began to move everything from the wagon. Adam made a move as if to help, but Joe turned away from him abruptly, not meeting his eyes, and Adam shied away to help his father, Charlie and Ray.

An hour later Ben sat at his desk literally wading his way through an enormous pile of mail. When he was finished he was surprised to see that the largest pile of letters were for Little Joe. Multiple letters had come from New Orleans, Boston and San Francisco. Adam had received several including one from his grandfather.

"Adam here's a letter for you. I think it's from your grandfather." Ben handed it to Adam who had been sitting next to him at the desk reading through several pieces of business correspondence. They both raised their heads as a burst of laughter floated down from upstairs. Ben smiled and rose from his chair.

"I think we need to go check this out." Ben started for the stairs then realized that Adam wasn't following him. "Adam?" He saw that Adam was still sitting in his chair, a relatively blank expression on his face. His inner feelings were expressed by the way his hands were playing with the envelope containing his grandfather's letter, turning it this way and that. "You go ahead pa, I'll come up later."

"Adam come on." Ben urged. Another peal of laughter wafted down from upstairs. Ben was torn. He hated the coldness that lay between his two sons. He didn't want to force Adam to do something he didn't want to, he couldn't risk making the rift bigger.

"Pa, please, I want to read this. I promise I'll be up in a little while."

Ben turned and continued up the stairs. As he paused in the doorway of Joe's room his mouth fell open as he took in the change in what was normally a tidy room. Joe had never been one to collect clutter the way his brother Adam did, littering every surface with books and letters. Now Joe's floor was literally covered wall to wall with open trunks. Brightly colored clothes were strewn about the room in a rainbow of colors, covering every available surface. Joe himself was a comical sight dressed in a formal riding costume of scarlet and green, an elegant top hat perched on his head. He was swaggering about, chattering gaily in a heavy New Orleans accent, "Y'all come on down to ma little plaice, Magnolia Tree Fahm and have some sweet mint tea suh."

Hoss was sitting on Joe's bed roaring with laughter, tears pouring from his eyes. "Stop it Joe, stop it. Lordy, lordy." Hoss wiped the tears away as Joe strolled up to him and doffed his hat in a rakish bow. "You telling me you wore that thing? IN public?"

"Yup." Joe smiled and winked at his brother. He moved onto another trunk and pulled out a leather training bridle. "Did I tell you about this? Phil and I got two of them in New Orleans." Joe was animated as he recounted the story of a day he and his cousin had spent just exploring the city. As he finished he glanced at the door and saw his father watching them. Joe's smile dimmed and Ben felt a tug on his heart.

Oh Lord, Ben thought to himself. We made him feel so guilty over everything we kept him from being able to share the good parts of his visit with us. No wonder he's been so quiet. Ben smiled broadly at Joe. "Was that Shanton Jones place Joe?"

Joe started, "Yes Pa it was."

"Well I was there when I was courting your mother. Does he still have his shop near Lafayette Square?"

Joe nodded then launched into another tale of that same day, setting off more gales of laughter from both his father and brother.

Adam listened to the laughter floating down the stairs. He longed to join them, but he knew that there was no way Joe would be frivolous or laugh if he went up there. He finally turned his attention to the letter he was holding in his hands. Taking a deep breath he opened the envelope and drew out the letter. He opened it carefully and began to read.Dear Adam:

Hello grandson. I hope this letter makes it to you all soon. I wanted to tell you how proud I am of your brother Joseph. Throughout the years you have shared many of his adventures in your letters and I had a very clear mental picture of a young boy who reminded me a bit of yourself at the same age. Now I have learned in fact that he has become a man to make us all proud. Claire has told me so much about him and how much he helped her and the other slaves on his uncle's plantation.

I am not sure that he would have shared the many things that happened to him during his stay. Claire felt that Joe would feel it would be a betrayal to his mother's family. She told me all about how the overseer of a neighboring plantation beat him for attempting to protect an elderly slave. How he tried to stop the sale of a child away from its mother. But most of all the fact that he defied his family and chose to set Claire free and then found a way to rescue her tells me that he has truly become a man of principle and resourcefulness.

You must be very proud of him. Many men have the courage to speak of their principles. Very few have the courage to take action and stand up for their beliefs. Claire has shared with all of us his courage in the face of the pressure of his family and all their friends. The slaves of the plantation were all so very fond of him, he even stood up to his aunt when she berated their cook. A small thing but it meant the world to these oppressed people.

I hope one day to meet your brother. Everything Claire has told me tells me he shares many of the wonderful traits I have seen in you: wisdom, compassion, courage and strong principles. You, your father and brother Hoss have raised him well. I am most pleased that in his hour of need he felt he could call upon me to help him. Please let him know that anytime I can be of service he should not hesitate to contact me. Also, Claire is well, now staying with Harriet Beecher Stowe, and working to further our abolitionist causes.

Love

Your Grandfather, Abel Stoddard.
Adam dropped the letter into his lap and rested his head against the back of his chair. "Oh Lord," he groaned aloud. "What have I done?"

Another burst of laughter came from upstairs. Adam felt as if a knife was twisting in his stomach. The things he had said all came to mind. The terrible things he had thought. None of it was true. No wonder Joe had attacked him that day in the barn. For all of Adam's fine words he had truly never done anything to help a slave. But Joe, Joe had risked his life, his relationship with his family, everything to do the right thing for an individual. Alone he couldn't fight all of slavery, but he knew how to work to help one person at a time.

Suddenly a feeling of warmth suffused Adam. It was pride, pride in his younger brother combined with love. Adam gathered up the letter carefully and rose to his feet. He knew what he had to do and he must do it immediately.

Gathering his courage he slowly mounted the stairs. He paused outside the door to Joe's room and peeked in. Ben and Hoss were sprawled on Joe's bed, watching enthralled as Joe, now dressed in a long black cloak with a bright red lining and a fine matching silk top hat, animatedly described an evening at the theater with his aunt. "An then I took Aunt Felicia's arm and said, "Shall we go? And we marched right on out of there." All three burst into laughter. Joe turned, removing his hat to return it to the trunk but stopped as he saw Adam hovering in the doorway. The sight of his brother made Joe stop and the laughter on his face faded, replaced by a look of wariness.

Adam stepped into the room and walked up to face Joe. He placed his hands on his brother's shoulders and looking him squarely in the eye simply said, "My God Joe, I am so sorry. Can you ever find it in your heart to forgive me?"

A look of bewilderment crossed Joe's face. "For what Adam?" he asked truly puzzled.

"For misjudging you Joe. I want you to know I am proud to call you my brother." With these words Adam gathered his brother to him and hugged him tightly. After a moment Joe returned his hug. As they broke apart Ben could see Joe's face shining with pleasure and his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Adam, would you mind telling the rest of us what's going on?" Adam silently held out the letter from his grandfather, too choked up to speak. Ben glanced at the signature and smiled.

"Read it out loud Pa." Hoss asked

Ben read the letter and then of one accord all three turned to look at Joe, still standing next to Adam. "Joseph, I think there are a few things you haven't told us about your time in New Orleans. Let's start with Claire."

The three were surprised to see Joe blush, the color rising from his throat and turning his whole face a bright pink. He struggled to come up with an answer then simply said, "She was my friend Pa. I got the chance to save her and I took it."

Ben continued to wait, staring patiently at his son. Joe finally launched into a slightly more detailed version of the story, explaining how difficult it had been for him to not have the power to intervene in all he had seen going on.

"You were beaten by an overseer?" Adam asked.

"Not really, he just hit me with his whip when I attacked him. But he was beating that old man. I doubt Sarabeth will ever forgive me for that."

"Who's Sarabeth?" Hoss asked. "Was she that girl in the..." Hoss stopped as Joe turned a fierce glare on him.

"No Hoss, she was the daughter of a neighboring plantation owner. And she was Claire's half sister."

All three Cartwrights gaped at Joe. Finally Adam broke the silence, "Little brother, it sounds to me like you got an education on horrors of slavery that far outstrips anything I ever could have told you."

"That's true Adam. But I did get to see that there are some people, even in the South, who do treat their slaves decently and with caring. Some might even set their people free, but until they have rights under the law that might even be worse than the slavery." Joe nodded grimly.

Silence reigned for a moment, then Adam suddenly bent down and picked up an envelope from the floor. "So Joe, what are these?"

Joe took the envelope and opened it carefully, then he smiled. "These are pictures from the engagement party at the Beauregard's. Adam and Joe joined Ben and Hoss sitting on Joe's bed and Joe laid out the pictures and told them stories about all the people in the pictures.

They might have remained in Joe's room talking and laughing the night away if Hop Sing had not arrived an hour later. He stared around the room in horror and turned to Little Joe, "Little Joe, Hop Sing no clean room. You clean room yourself. Dinner ready." Hop Sing marched down the stairs, waving his hands and ranting at top volume. The four men followed.

Dinner that evening was the most pleasant since Joe's return. The conversation was wide ranging and Joe found himself starting to feel more relaxed. He was so glad that he and Adam were friends again.

After dinner the mail was distributed. Joe took his stack of mail and settled down in the large blue chair next to the fireplace. The first letter was from his Uncle Francois with a small note from Jacques and another envelope enclosed. Both letters apologized profusely for the missing letter. Jacques asked Joe not to hate him and Joe vowed to immediately post a letter of forgiveness to Jacques. He opened the envelope that contained his father's letter of love and caring. Joe couldn't help but surreptitiously wipe a tear from his eyes, all that pain, all those mistakes for no reason.

The second letter was from his Aunt Felicia. She told him that she understood his reason for leaving but that he should know that Belle Mer would one day be his if he wanted it and she looked forward to seeing him again soon. Joe considered this letter and he pocketed it carefully. Perhaps one day if things were to change and slavery abolished he would return to claim his heritage.

The next letter was from Boston. He wondered if it was from Captain Stoddard and he opened it eagerly, hoping for more news of Claire.
 

 My Dearest Joe:

I wanted to write and thank you for saving my life and sending me here to Boston. It is truly a wondrous place. Your grandfather sent me to live with Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe, a great woman and abolitionist. I have joined her cause and will stay with her until next month.

It is about next month that I'm writing to you Joe. Our time together was the most important thing in my life and I will treasure the memory of it forever. But our lives have taken us in two very different directions. I have met someone, a wonderful man, a freed slave like myself. He has asked me to marry him and share his work, helping others like us. I have accepted and we will be married at the beginning of March.

Be happy for me Joe. I wish you all good things. I know you must be happy to be back with your family again.

Love
 Claire

"Hoss, what happened?" Ben asked, staring at the door.

"I don't know Pa. I'm going after him." Hoss walked to the door and went outside into the darkness. He found that Joe had not gone too far, he was standing at the corral, leaning over the top rail of the fence. Hoss came up behind him and gently placed one of his large hands on Joe's back. "Joe, you ok?"

Joe remained still and silent for a long moment. "I don't know Hoss. I don't know if I'll ever be ok again."

"Joe what happened? What was in that letter?"

"It was from Claire, she, she, she got married." Joe kept his head ducked low, his breathing slightly hiccuped as he struggled to get his emotions under control.

"Well Joe, she was your friend. I'd think you'd be happy." Hoss was truly bewildered. Why was Joe upset?

"Hoss, she was more than a friend." Joe turned to face his brother. "She and I, we, ummm, shared..." Joe stopped, this was not something he could tell Hoss outright. He didn't want his brother to think he was the kind of man who would dishonor a woman and Joe hadn't with Claire. Suddenly Joe burst out, "I never should have come home. I shouldn't have listened to her. I should have gone with her to Boston. Or taken her with me to San Francisco. I should have convinced her to marry me, that we could be together, that the rest of the world didn't matter." Joe stopped in surprise at his own outburst.

"Did you love her Joe?" Hoss asked quietly. He understood what Joe was afraid to say to him. His little brother had made love to this woman, had loved her but somehow she refused him. Hoss knew how hard it was for anyone who loved Joe to refuse him anything. She must have loved him enough to care more about what happened to him than herself.

"Yes, I thought so. But she convinced me that more than anything I needed to come here, to be with all of you, to resolve things with all of you before I moved on."

Hoss went very still. "Move on Joe. You ain't planning on staying?"

Joe lifted his head and stared into his brother's eyes. Hoss's face had aged in an instant, lines of worry and care that had been eased on Joe's return to the ranch had reappeared in an instant. Joe started to speak then paused. He was going to deny his leaving, if only to remove that look from his brother's face. But he didn't want to lie to him. "I just don't know anymore Hoss, I just don't know."

"Joe, there's something I got to tell you. Something we been keeping from you."

Joe was bewildered. "What is it Hoss?"

Hoss took a deep breath. They had avoided this with Joe, not wanting him to know how bad things had been while he was gone. "Joe, while you was gone, things got bad here for all of us."

"Bad how Hoss?"

"Bad Joe, like the life went out of this place. Like all the sun and all the energy was gone from us, from this place. All I know Joe is that nobody did much laughing while you was gone. And all I wanted to do was go after you and bring you home, just so I could see Pa and Adam smile again."

Joe struggled with Hoss's words. "But Hoss, I got Adam's letter, he told me that after all those years, this was the year he decided to go on the hunting trip. Why would he do that except that I wasn't't going?"

"Joe, that ain't how it happened. Me and Adam was missing you so much while you was with Pa in New Orleans he asked me if he could come with us when you got back. Then when you didn't come we went anyway, but it wasn't any good without you there."

"Oh Hoss," Joe spoke softly. "But Lance told me you all had a big party for Roy Coffee and everybody had a good time."

"That's right Joe, all anybody did was talk about you. Everybody was missing you something terrible. Even Doc Martin was worried that some New Orleans doctor was gonna get hold of you and mess up all his hard work keeping you in one piece. Joe you just gotta realize that what you decide isn't just about you, it's about a whole lotta other people who love you and care about you."

Joe stared dumfounded at his older brother. He felt torn in so many directions. He shook his head wearily and for a moment felt as if he could go to sleep standing up, so drained were his emotions.

Hoss put his arm around his brother's shoulders and he coaxingly lead him to the house.
 

A few days later Joe spent an evening reading the remainder of the letters in the pile. His humor had gradually returned and with the easing of the tensions between himself and Adam had seemed to be more his old self. The letters from San Francisco had been filled with news of Sylvie and Duncan's elopement to San Francisco, their first meeting with Sam Clemens and his subsequent hiring of Duncan as a reporter for his newspaper, and the coming publication of Duncan's novel.
 The final letter was a simple note from Sylvie:

Dear Joe:

We have told you much but asked little. We thank God every day for sending you to us in Louisiana. Our happiness is so great and our joy grows every day. We have wondrous news, I am expecting our first child. We plan to name him for his cousin, the man who made our life together possible.

We wait everyday for news that you will be joining us soon, whether for a visit or forever. Duncan has made many contacts and their are so many exciting opportunities here in California for someone of your business skill and talents. We miss you every day and look forward to seeing you soon.

Love Sylvie

"I'm on my way to bed. I'll see y'all in the mornin'." Joe's voice twanged softly and he moved up the stairs.

"Night Joe." Ben called after him. Ben remained staring at the stairs for a few minutes, bemused suddenly by the feeling that he had seen something of the restlessness that had haunted Joe in the early days of his return to the Ponderosa.

"Hoss," Ben spoke softly.

"Yessir, what is it Pa?" Hoss could see his father's look of concern.

"Hoss, do you think Joe's planning on leaving again?"

"What makes you say that Pa?" Hoss hadn't told anyone about his conversation with Joe.

"Something about the look in his eye. He seems somehow frustrated and restless."

"Maybe he is Pa. But I don't think we need to worry about Joe going off anywhere permanently."

"Why do you say that Hoss?"

"Pa, I been thinking about it. Joe had the chance to do anything he wanted when he left his family's plantation. He could have gone to San Francisco, to Boston, he could have jumped on a ship and sailed off to anywhere in the world. He thought we didn't want him, he thought there was nobody here who cared about him. But he didn't go off did he Pa, what did he do? He did nothing but struggle, work and push himself to get home to us. And why, because he loves us, he loves this place, this is his home. And home is real important, it's where you belong. He ain't gonna leave us Pa, he may go visiting or go off for a while because he thinks he needs to. But I think Pa he'll always find a way to come home to us."

Ben nodded, tears standing in his eyes as he listened to his son's words. "Thank you son."

Hoss smiled at his father, but inside he resolved to keep a closer eye on his little brother. If Joe thought he was gonna go off on his own again he was sadly mistaken, Hoss was going to be right behind him.
 

The next afternoon Ben found himself fearing that he was about to lose the army contract for horses, for the first time in ten years. Facing him across the table was Major John Williams, newly promoted to the Nevada Territory. Major Williams was a southern gentleman who's skeptical attitude towards the Cartwright's ability to meet his needs readily apparent.

"Mr. Cartwright, you can appreciate my position. I have been asked by the army to make my selection. Now I don't see why, just because you have received this contract in past years, I should bestow it upon you again. It's my policy to make these decisions with a great deal of care."

Ben's mind raced. He could see that he was going to have to consider bringing down the price. This combined with the losses to the herd was going to make this a very lean year for the Ponderosa.

Before Ben could speak the Major began to speak. "First of all, I would like to have some sort of guarantees Mr. Cartwright incorporated into the contract. I know we have an aggressive schedule to meet and you have a large number of very rough horses to break."

Ben nodded and opened his mouth to reply when he heard the front door of the house open. Joe came in the door and rounded the corner. He was dressed in his tan work pants and shirt with his green jacket. His clothes were dusty and his hair mussed. "Hey Pa." Joe paused when he realized his father was not alone. "Oh excuse me."

Major Williams stood and turned around as Ben began his introductions, "Major this is my son..."

"Joe," the Major exclaimed and moved forward, shaking Joe's hand enthusiastically then embracing him a quick rough embrace.

"Jack, what are you doing here?" Joe and the Major were smiling at each other broadly.

"Never mind that, what are you doing here? Last I saw you, you were winning all the prizes at the local show in Mariposa."

"Not all of them. You and Calista did quite well."

"Thanks to you." The Major nodded towards Joe and they both burst into laughter. Ben had a moment where he realized he had not understood a word either one was saying. Both the Major and Joe were drawling heavily, their southern accents thick and smooth.

"Do you know each other?" Ben's puzzlement was apparent.

"Oh Pa, I'm sorry. Yes, the Captain and I knew each other in Louisiana."

"Always being modest, Joe here is the best horse trainer in the entire state of Louisiana Mr. Cartwright. At the last show every horse that won had been trained by him and or ridden by him as well."

"And my cousin Phil."

"That's right. But Joe here is the best. Now Joe what are you doin' here?"

"Jack, this is my father. I was born and raised here on the Ponderosa."

"I assume you are running the horse operations here Joe?" Jack asked.

"That's right."

"Then my contract should be with you, not your father." Jack turned to Ben, "Mr. Cartwright if your son here is going to be doing the work then I want my contract to be with him." His words were polite but the Major's tone indicated it was an order, not a request.

Ben nodded and pushed the contract towards Joe. Joe bent to sign it but then picked it up and scanned it quickly. "Jack, I'm sorry it seems there is a mistake here."

Jack's eyebrows raised and he joined Joe over at the table. "It seems we were charging you last year's rate per horse. As you recall I charge ten dollars more per horse to break them in and provide basic training. Now the schooling is a question as well. I know how fussy you are." Joe smiled broadly at Jack and the two bent their heads to the contract, Ben forgotten.

Half an hour later Joe was walking Jack to his horse and shaking his hand. "Perhaps I should have signed that contract when your father showed it to me Joe. How am I gonna explain that I'm paying $6 more per horse than we did last year?"

"The army wants the best Jack. You just be sure to remind them that that's what they'll get. The first set will be ready in a week."

"Joe, join me for dinner one night this week? We can talk over old times and you can tell me a bit more how a southern gentleman like yourself has ended up running the horse operation on a Nevada ranch."

Joe laughed out loud. "It's more like how did a Nevada horsebreaker end up a Southern gentleman Jack. How about Tuesday?"

Jack nodded and mounted up, nodding a greeting at Hoss and Adam who had arrived and overheard the last part of their conversation.

"That the army feller Joe?"

"Yup."

"How'd Pa do?" Adam asked.

"Terrible." Ben's voice came from behind them.

"We lost the contract Pa?" Adam paled slightly.

"I lost the contract Adam, but Joe here saved it."
 His brothers turned to him and Joe simply shrugged. "The Major and I did a lot of business together when I was on the plantation. He liked my work."

"Not only did he like it, but he insisted that Joe be the one to sign the contract. Which he did, after Joe renegotiated the contract for $6 more per horse."

"What?" Hoss and Adam were amazed. Joe merely shrugged again and smiled blandly at the two.

"Joe, all I can say is thank the lord you came home. Without that contract we would have been in for some hard times this year. I think I'll be having Joe do a lot more of our negotiating from now on." Ben smiled at his son proudly.

Joe relished that smile. He could feel himself relax as he realized that things had finally changed, that he was an important part of the ranch. No more fear that he would someday end up like his Uncle Lucien.

Hoss handed Joe a letter that had come in that day's mail. "Here you go little brother, some more mail from down New Orleans way."

They turned and went into the house together. Joe sat down and opened the letter that was covered with his Cousin Phil's handwriting.

Dear Joe:

I've spoken to my father and he's given me permission to go visit Sylvie and Duncan in San Francisco later this summer. If it is all right with you I would like to come to visit you at the Ponderosa for a week or two and then go on to San Francisco. It would please me a great deal if you would consider coming with me to visit them. Think of the fun we can all have together in San Francisco.

I've missed you cousin. The horse business is gone, but there is still much to occupy us here. Since mother is gone Jacques and I have become much closer and I am starting to teach him more about the work of the plantation so that like you and your brothers he and I can someday share Rivieux Rouge.

Sarabeth's father withdrew his permission for our marriage. It seems that we DesVries are a bit too wild for his taste, something about having gunslingers in the family. I can't say I am sorry, my father has told me that he has finally learned his lesson and he wishes for me to marry for love.

Please write soon and tell me what you think of this plan.

Love

Phil.

"Joseph, get your feet off the table." Ben admonished. He was watching his son's face, a momentary unease gripping him. There was something about the look on Joe's face that made him wonder exactly what his son was planning. He knew that look, no good could come of it.

Joe's mind was occupied by a single thought, "SAN FRANCISCO."