Epilogue—A year later

Tank stood at the edge of the lawn, looking back toward the house, his horse bouncing his head impatiently while Tank held the reins. He deeply inhaled the fresh air, smiling at the sight of his home. He never would have thought that twelve months could pass so quickly and with so much activity.

“What are you doing out here?” Collin asked as he rode up. “Chip, George, and Alan are going to be here in an hour.” He grinned as he bounded off his horse and into Tank’s arms.

“I know. I needed to clear my head a little.” Tank hugged Collin, tucking him against his chest.

“There’s nothing to worry about. You know that,” Collin said. Chip had arrived a few days ago to stay with his brother and George for a couple of weeks.

“I know,” Tank said. “It’s just that I miss being back home sometimes. I grew up there.” He didn’t want to sound like a Debbie Downer. He didn’t regret any of the decisions he’d made the last year.

“And we can go back to visit,” Collin said.

“I know. But it doesn’t make any sense to keep the house and land when I’m only there a few weeks a year.” He had been thinking a lot lately. Maureen still had a year to go on their lease agreement, but he was thinking that maybe he should sell. It would be to people he thought of as family, and Tank knew they would treat the land well. “This is my home now.”

Collin sniffed slightly. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear that?”

“I know, and it’s taken me longer than I expected to feel it, but it’s a fact. This land and the people on it are home.” It helped that Collin let Tank oversee the estate’s livestock operations. It gave him something of his own. His first task had been managing the sale of Collin’s father’s string of polo ponies. Many of the animals had indeed been purchased by team members, while others had been incorporated into strings throughout the country. Tank had to admit that Collin’s father had an eye for good horses, and the proceeds of the sale had been nearly enough to pay the death duties on the estate. Not only that, but the reduction in expenses had pushed the estate into a more profitable status, which gave Collin room to maneuver financially. “It’s just hard to let go.”

“I understand, and you don’t need to make this decision now. You still have time,” Collin said.

“I know I do. But I think in my heart I know what I want. I just have to bring that last part of myself along.” And he figured the easiest way to do that was to make a decision and then move forward. “I can’t have one leg in the past and the other in our future. So with that in mind, there isn’t much of a choice to make.” Tank glanced around, wishing they were out of sight of the house. He was tempted to take Collin into the woods and get him to scream his passion to the trees, but they didn’t have time for that. “Come on.” He pushed those thoughts from his head, because riding a horse with a boner was always a bad idea.

They started back toward the stables, where they saw to their mounts before walking over the lawn to the house. They cleaned up, and Tank got out the munchies Tamsin had prepared and set them up in the library as the bell rang. Collin got the door with Tank behind him, and the five men shared hugs before Collin showed Chip around and Tank took George and Alan into the library to talk business. They had worked together to combine the strengths of their two estates. Both of their stables were now full with mostly paying boarders. George specialized in racing, while Tank worked with horses that needed to be rehabilitated like Barney, who they had brought over. He still wasn’t much for being ridden, but he’d calmed down a lot, and his stud shares were in huge demand. The three of them talked strategy and training until Collin and Chip joined them with Sheba, Liza, and Danny right behind, fanning out to get attention.

“The house is looking great,” Chip said. “You really made the day room beautiful, and the dining room is amazing. Was all that trim and the paintings there?”

“Yeah. The trim was under old ceiling repairs that we removed, and the original frescos were under the old wallpaper, just waiting to be discovered and conserved.” Collin sat next to Tank. “We’re working on the library. The woodwork in here is being cleaned, with just that final section to go. We have a librarian who is helping us put the books back in order.”

Chip made his way around the room, looking at each section of shelving.

“Is that the secret door?” Chip asked.

“Yes. We’ve had people in to try to open it, but with no key, the only choice is to dismantle the shelving, and we don’t want to do that. So we keep looking.”

Chip continued his circuit of the library.

“How soon before you’re ready to add the house to the tour?”

“How about Christmas?” Collin answered. “You run those special openings in December, and we thought we’d open during that period and then join with your schedule starting in the spring.”

“Do you have a theme for the holiday?” George asked, and he and Collin batted around various ideas while Chip continued looking over the room itself. Tank joined him as he stared into the corner.

“What’s wrong?”

Chip shrugged. “I don’t know. This looks off somehow.” He ran his fingers over the decorative moldings that had yet to be cleaned. Then he looked toward the other corner.

“I get it. The corner should be the same, but it’s different.” Tank pressed on the molding, and it slid downward. He pressed harder, and a four-inch piece slid farther down, revealing a space that held some papers. Tank gently lifted them out and found a key at the bottom. He turned and showed the key to Collin before handing him the pages.

“What is this?” Collin asked, going to the library table.

“It’s a letter… from the fifth earl,” George said. “This has been in there for more than a century and a half. Get some gloves, and don’t touch the papers again until you do.” Tank hurried to the kitchen and retuned with a pair of white cotton gloves. He handed them to Collin, who carefully spread out the pages.

“It’s almost pristine, except for the yellowing,” Collin said.

To my descendant who finds this:

My son will inherit the estate, and there is nothing I can do about it. The entail and tradition are too strong for me to stop it. But he spends more time in the taverns and gambling dens than is good for him. So as part of repairing the library, I had this hiding space built, as well as one behind the case across the room. If you look closely, you’ll find the keyhole. Over the last year I have removed a number of important and historical items from the house and placed them behind the bookcase because the sixth earl is certain to sell anything he is able to in order to support his vices.

Collin raised his gaze. “I’ll be damned. There are stories of the fifth earl selling a number of items.” He became breathless. “At least that’s what we always thought. My grandfather was a stickler about trying to preserve what we had and did his best to add to the family collection. I don’t think my father cared either way.”

“What is supposed to have been sold?” George asked, but Collin was already at the case.

Collin placed the key in the hole and smiled back at Tank when it turned. He pulled carefully, and the case slid back slightly before swinging open. Chip thankfully kept the dogs from racing forward.

“Oh my God,” George gasped. “Good Lord.”

Tank stood behind Collin and peered inside. “Can you tell me what I’m looking at?”

“It seems that Collin’s great-great grandfather built this almost two hundred years ago at the beginning of the Victorian period and….” George seemed to lose his voice. “Let me see. That right there is Elizabeth the First, that is Charles the Second, and that one right there is Queen Mary, if I’m not mistaken. Those look like Italian renaissance, and that….” George’s voice stopped. “I’m willing to guess that all of these are works that the world has classified as lost.”

Tank looked closer. The room was about ten feet long all told, and about two feet deep. The paintings hung on the back wall, and Tank supposed it was lucky that none of them had fallen down or out of their frames. They were covered in dust, but the light from the library was enough to make them visible. “What’s all that?”

“I don’t know,” Collin said. “I’m going to need to call the conservator and ask him to come over and remove all the items. I don’t want to touch them as they are.”

“I’ll get a torch.” Tank went to the office and returned with a small flashlight that he shone back into the darkness. Sculptures stood on stone pedestals to one side, and on the other side, a built-in shelf was covered with smaller items.

Tank backed out to give each of the others a chance to look before they all exited and Collin closed the door, pushing it back into place. He didn’t lock it this time before sitting back down. “I can’t believe it. Everything is there. My grandfather used to lament the loss of all those things, and damn, he had no idea they were right behind there his entire life.”

“What are we going to do with them?” Tank asked.

Collin smiled. “We’re going to conserve them, then hang them and put them on public display.” He sat next to Tank and munched on a chip, then turned to Tank. “Finding all that has been the second-best thing to happen today.”

“Second best?” George asked as the dogs joined them on the sofa, tails wagging as they found their spots.

“Yeah. Tank has said he’s going to sell his ranch to Maureen and make his permanent home here with me.” Collin leaned over to Tank, gazing into his cowboy’s deep eyes. “That is worth more than all the found treasures in the world.”

Tank couldn’t help thinking that being speechless was sometimes the best thing ever.