"I never knew my real father, my mother took me away when I was little, and I never saw him again. Ma died when I was three or four, so I never heard stories, and Ma didn't have many friends.
         "My first father figure was Mr. Bhaer. He was so kind, and patient, a lot more patient than I could ever be. I gave him heck and he still treated me like a son, and--over time--he became my mother. And then he died. I don't think anyone knew how much Father Bhaer's death hurt me, I was always quiet and avoided the others, so they couldn't know.
         "And then Nick came. He had gone to places I only dreamed of traveling to, he quickly became a friend, and then like a big brother, and then a father. We hunted, we fished, we worked in the barn, we talked, we did everything. When Nick married Mrs. Jo, I was never so happy.
         "I first met Nick's brother Ben when he came to Nick completely broke and in debt. I was unimpressed by this lowdown fool, but I could feel sorry for him, we all got into trouble sometimes. Ben was younger than Nick, but
older than he looked, thirty-one. Nick was thirty-three.
        "Ben straightened up after Nick was nearly trying to protect him for something Ben didn't do anyway. He stayed for Christmas, and seemed to take a liking to young Mary Cook, a woman that lived a couple miles east of Plumfield. But then he left.
         "I never saw Ben again after that January day in 1874. In 1875, I left Plumfield to travel with an old friend, Mr. Hyde, to South America. I was seventeen. Bess was upset, but I promised her I'd come back, and I did. I had no idea what shock awaited me at home . . .

         "Dan!"
         Dan turned just as Bess threw herself into his arms.  He wrapped his arms around her slim waist and held her close for a moment. Bess smelled fresh and clean; her golden hair hung to her shoulders;  she wore a crisp sky blue dress with white lace.
         "You're the most beautiful sight I've ever laid eyes on," Dan murmured.
         "Oh, Dan," Bess sighed, "I've missed you."
         "I missed you too." Dan held her at arms-length. "I oughta' tell you 'bout my trip."
         "How was it?" Nan asked, racing down the steps.
         "Great," Dan answered, hugging Nan and shaking hands with Nat.
         "What'd you see?" Nat asked.
         "Everything." Dan smiled at Nick, it was all that he had hoped for. "In Mexico we visited the old Aztec ruins, and in Africa we saw lions and elephants. You would've liked it, Nan."
         "I wouldn't have," Bess said, "lions?"
         "They weren't gonna bother us," Dan said.
         "Why not?" Bess questioned.
         "Well," Dan said with a sly grin, "they were eating as we watched, so we knew they weren't hungry!"
         "Ew!" Bess squealed.
          Jo came out of the house holding an infant, Dan blinked in surprise. Jo was a little heavier than before, she looked tired but happy, and who was that baby?
         "Dan," Jo said, "this is Hannah."
         "Your . . . daughter?" Dan assumed.
         "Yes," Nick answered, "pretty too, ain't she?"
         "She looks just like her ma," Dan said.
         "Is that a good thing?" Jo wondered aloud.
         "Hannah's very lucky," Nick said.
         "Hey, Dan," Nat said, "Ben came back."
         "Ben?" Dan's eyes widened.
         "Yeah," Nick said, "my brother."
         "I remember," Dan said, "he was my brother too."
         "Oh yeah," Nick laughed.
         Dan headed into the house and spotted Ben in the parlor immediately. "Ben!" he cried.
         Ben jumped to his feet, his face broke into a broad grin.  "Dan!" he said, "how ya' been, boy?"
         "I'm fine," Dan said, "where've you been?"
         "All over the place," Ben replied, "Texas, California, Canada--"
         "Oh yeah?" Dan nodded. "Me too. Mexico, Africa, even England--what a dreary place! Nice 'nough people though."
         "Nick's told me 'bout Africa," Ben said.
         "Told me too," Dan said, "it was just like I imagined it. Hey, you dropped something." He knelt and picked up a picture that had slipped from Ben's pocket. "Who're they?"
         "My woman an' son," Ben answered, "don't look so surprised, Dan!"
         "You're married?" Dan said.
         "No." Ben shook his head sadly. "She was pretty, huh? Rachel Kean."
         "An' the baby?"
         "Daniel." Ben smiled. "We were happy, if not moral."
         "What'd you mean?"
         "Rachel an' I weren't married," Ben said, "she had no family, an' neither did I, so we didn't have to worry 'bout that. When we found out she was expectin', we just left town and headed up to the Rockies."
         "That's where your son was born?"
         "Yeah."
         Dan hesitated, obviously there was something behind this picture that bothered Ben. "Where are they now?" Dan asked.
         "I was a jerk," Ben said, "used to get drunk when I'd gamble our money away. Danny was two when Rachel took him an' left me."
         "Did you hit her?"
         "Twice." Ben blinked back tears and swallowed hard. "She stood by me even after that, but not when I gambled away everythin' we owned. If I had a second chance . . . aw, never mind, I don't."
         "Do you know what ever happened to 'em?" Dan asked.
         "Figured they went to Boston," Ben said, "Rachel had a few friends there. But I never went lookin'."
         "Does Nick know?"
         "I told everyone when I came back here."
         "That was a long time ago, Ben."
         "Yeah," Ben said, "my two-year-old son is now seventeen."

         Dan couldn't sleep that night, so he got up and headed to the barn. The barn was a place of refuge for the two years Dan had been on Plumfield. Was it really only two years? Dan thought, sure felt longer.
         The toe of his boot hit something, and as he looked down, Dan saw the brown book lying in the hay. He knelt and picked it up; it fell open:

     Ben came home drunk last night again. He lost two
     hundred dollars in a stupid bet, and when I yelled
     at him, he slapped me. Just a little slap across
     the cheek, but the pain in my heart felt like it
     was a bullet.
     Dan is almost two. February 26th and I will have
     had my little angel for two whole years. He is the
     light of my life, what keeps me going.
                                          Rachel Kean.

         Dan slammed the book shut, breathing hard at the words written by Ben's lover fifteen years ago. She sounds like quite a woman, he said to himself.
         "Dan?" It was Ben.
         Dan stood and whirled, he felt his cheeks flush. "I-I tripped on it," he explained, "when I picked it up it fell open."
         "That's all right," Ben said, "you know what I did."
         "She sounded like a good woman."
         "She was."
         Ben turned slowly and walked away, Dan felt a knot in his throat. Their son's name was Dan . . . his birthday was the twenty-sixth of February . . . Rachel's last name was Kean. "It can't be!" Dan whispered, "I can't be Ben's son!" And he found himself opening the pages once again . . .

     Daniel Nicholas Kean was born this morning at
     three o'clock, February 26th, 1858. Ben and I
     decided not to give him the Riley name, since I
     have no brothers to carry on the Kean name . . .
 

         "You're doin' great, Rachel!" Ben cried, "keep pushin'! Keep breathin' too!"
         "I can't breathe!" Rachel moaned, "ohh, Ben, why hasn't it come yet?"
         "It's comin'!" Ben assured her, "oh, here it is--a boy!"
         "A boy!?" Rachel gasped.
         "We have son!" Ben said.
 

     Why has Ben changed so much? He used to be so
     loving and warm, and at times he still is, but
     now he drinks and gambles. He hit me for the
     first time last night . . .
 

         "Ben!" Rachel yelled, "get your sorry butt o'er here right now!"
         "What'd you want, woman?" Ben demanded.
         "I want you to throw away that liquor bottle," Rachel ordered, snatching the whiskey in Ben's hand, "and put away those cards."
         "Aw, you don't know what you're talking 'bout."
         "I'm not the one that's drunk!" Ben swung and sent Rachel crashing against the wall.  She cried out and lie still for a moment, then sobbed quietly:
         "Please, Ben, for Danny . . . "
 

     I know people in Boston that will help me and
     Dan get settled. Roger and Patricia Cole will
     be there, and their son Jasper is Dan's age so
     he'll have a friend. I don't want to leave Ben,
     but I don't want to die either.
                                       Rachel Kean.

         Dan tucked the journal away, that was the last entry. He went back into the house and found Ben in the kitchen, he had no idea what to say. "Ben," Dan began hoarsely, "what if I were to tell you . . . that I know your son."
         "Do you?" Ben leapt out of his chair anxiously.
         "Yes."
         "Is he all right? Does he hate me? What 'bout Rachel?"
         Nobody saw Nick and Jo in the doorway, watching cautiously. Nick gripped Jo's hand.
         "He's fine," Dan said, "no, he doesn't hate you."
         "And . . . Rachel?" Ben said nervously.
         "Um, she's gone, Ben."
         "'Gone'?" Ben crinkled his brow in confusion. "What'd you mean 'gone'?"
         "She died a long time ago," Dan answered.
         "Oh," was all Ben could say.
         "Where is the boy?" Nick finally asked, stepping in.
         "I--" Dan stopped, but Jo's eyes urged him on. "I'm your son, Ben."
         Ben looked up again, his eyes locked with those of Dan's, and then he placed his hands on Dan's shoulders. "You are!" he realized, "you look . . . like your mother."
         "Wait a second," Nick said, "then . . . I'm your uncle, Dan?"
         "Looks that way, Nick," Dan replied, "everything's right. My name's Dan Kean, I have the same birthday as Ben's son; I know my ma's name was Rachel."
         "Poor Rachel," Ben murmured, "if I just could've seen her one last time."
         "Well," Dan said, "I don't remember Ma too well, only a little, so maybe you could help me out there."
         "If I were you, Dan." Ben shook his head. "I'd wanna drag me out an' shoot me."
         "No," Dan said, "I've waited fifteen years to have a father." His face softened slightly. "Will you be mine?"
         "You are my son," Ben said.
         They both smiled as father and son were reunited. Nick held Jo and fought tears; it was incredible. And then Ben began: "I met your mother while I was workin' in Maine . . . "

         "Pa and I were close from that time on. Of course, I married Bess two years later, and we settled down just outside of Plumfield. We had some hard times, but I had people to lean on. Our first child was born in the winter of 1879, Benjamin. Then Rachel three years later, Nicholas after two years, Fritz five years later, and then Jasper after another three years.
         "Nothing ever stays the same, perhaps that's the only thing I've learned in this life. Nat and Nan got married and had three children, then they moved to Ohio and only came home for Christmas, and then only every two years or so. Franz and Isabel rarely came home, and Emil wasn't seen for five years at a time.
         "Plumfield the School for Boys finally shut its doors in nineteen hundred five, many folks thought Nick and Jo waited too long. They had six children together after Hannah. Six! Rob went on to a banker, and a mighty successful one at that. And Teddy became a clergyman. Imagine that!
        "Pa came to live with Bess and I when he got real sick in nineteen seven, and a year later, we lost him. But you can bet he was never forgotten."

         Dan bounced little Georgia on his knee and held Josie on his head, laughing at his grandchildren as they frolicked about. Thirteen-year-old Nathaniel eyed him carefully, then said: "That's one heck of a story, Grandpa."
         Dan's eyes twinkled, he reached over and squeezed Bess' hand. After fifty-seven years on the Earth, he ought to have one heck of a story!
         "We sure do have a story," Dan said, "don't we, Bess?"
         "All right!" Jo said, entering with a tray full of cookies, "who wants snack?"
         "Don't fill 'em before they eat supper!" old Asia called from the kitchen.
         "Aw, don't you start!" Nick laughed, his still-clear eyes sparkling.
         Dan stood and went over by Nick and Jo. "Thank you," he said quietly.
         "Hmm?" Jo said, "for what, dear?"
         "I wouldn't be here," Dan said, "if it weren't for you an' Father Bhaer.  An', Nick, you know how much you mean to me."
         "We're family, Dan," Nick said, "we take care of each other."
         "Well anyway," Dan said, "I love you two. Just needed to tell you that."