THREE YEARS LATER
Isaac looked down at his father's grave. An engraved wooden cross stuck in the ground surrounded by a ring of stones.
"They would have wanted to be buried next to each other." Isaac said sadly as Tilly came up behind him. She looked down and laced her fingers with his. They stayed quiet for a while, just looking at the two graves that shared a meaningful Bible verse.
CHARLES SMITH
He will wipe away every tear from their eyes,
and death shall be no more,
ARTHUR MORGAN
neither shall there be mourning,
nor crying, nor pain anymore,
for the former things have passed away.
Revelations 21:4
"They would have loved it Isaac," Tilly comforted, leaning against him. "It's beautiful."
Isaac nodded saying nothing. Then he looked around to the other graves of the Van Der Linde gang. It made Isaac's heart ache to see the little field so filled of familiar names.
"It's just sad seeing all of them like this," Isaac said softly, adjusting his father's hat.
Tilly patted his arm. "come away Isaac, you'll feel better." He nodded and allowed himself to be pulled back to the little wagon where Sadie and Kieran waited.
The wagon creaked as Isaac slid into the front seat.
A few hours later they rolled into town to pick up some supplies. Isaac and Kieran headed for the general store with a list of provisions, already ordered and ready for pick up under the name Killgore.
As the store clerk gathered their things, Isaac perused the shelves like he was choosing a new horse. He stopped when he found what he was looking for. Honey sticks, the sticks were a beautiful sample of the colors honey came in, ranging from rich amber to sunny gold. He inspected each stick, looking for leaks and imperfections. He mulled over how many he should get. They had a long journey ahead so no less than five, or maybe a dozen? Finally, he just decided to take all of them.
The cashier was friendly, even left his counter to help them load their things in the wagon.
"Say," he said conversationally, hauling a bag of maze over his shoulder. "You hear about that big shipwreck out by Garma? Sank like a rock."
Isaac tried not to fidget and out of the corner of his eye he noticed Kieran stumble a little before catching himself. "um, n-no." the skittish horseman lied.
"Well, apparently it was filled with that outlaw gang, the Van Der Linds. All of um, dead. Can you believe it?"
"No, no I can't" was all Isaac could think to say.
"Apparently they were bound for someplace called Tahiti. Where ever that is. Well anyway, that's one less problem for people to worry about."
Isaac worked silently after that. Tho the store owner didn't seem to notice, he just prattled on endlessly about the local gossip. Isaac nodded and gave the occasional "yeah" and "no" when it seemed appropriate. When they were finished, he thanked the man for his help and sat in the wagon and waited quietly for the girls.
"You ok?" Kieran asked.
Truthfully Isaac felt a bit off-center. It was traumatizing seeing all those he cared about in a field. But he didn't know how to voice it. "I'll be ok," he said and Kieran offered him a warm smile.
Not long after that the girls came back, each with their arms full of supplies.
"Pain in the ass store clerk wanted to know if my husband approved of me buyin all this." Sadie griped. "Wish I cuda pistol-whipped him," she mumbled, earning a smile from Isaac as they moved out of town.
They traveled together for weeks, rolling along winding roads and watched as the leaves changed and fell. All the while knowing they still had miles and miles to go.
One particularly miserable night Isaac surprised Tilly with a bouche of honey sticks.
"Pa told me once you loved um. That you couldn't get enough." He said shily.
"yes, I do Isaac. Thank you." she said with a smile. Isaac blushed to his ears when she leaned in to give him a light peck on the cheek. "goodnight." she whispered as she turned and disappeared into the girl's tent.
Isaac was still smiling like a fool as he laid out his bedroll, readying for bed. If Kieran noticed his fixed stupid grin he was kind enough not to say anything.
That night Isaac was restless and got very little sleep. To many thoughts racing through his mind. But prepared or not, the light of dawn crept down through the tree branches in streams of golden light.
He yawned as he climbed into the wagon but Tilly grabbed the reins first. "Why don't you let me drive?" she said, and without waiting for a responce she flicked the straps and the wagon lurched forward.
It was another few weeks yet till they found themselves on the well-know roads leading home. Their long journey almost over.
Eventually, after months of travel, the rickety wagon rolled up to their farm.
"Welcome back." Hosea called from his place leaning against a tree, book propped open on his lap as he enjoyed the unusually warm autumn day.
"Yeah, it's good to be back." Isaac said smiling. Hosea got up and trailed after them as they drove the wagon to the front of the house.
"How'd it go?" Hosea asked, in his usual nonchalant worried way. "any troubles?"
Isaac laughed, "you sound like dad."
"who sounds like me?" Charles called as he walked out the front door onto the porch.
"Hosea, you both like to pretend you aren't worried when you are." Isaac said as he lept off the wagon and dashed up the steps to hug Charles. "You pretend nothing worries you but I think you both worry more than anyone I know."
"Little shit may be right about that." Sean said coming up behind Isaac carrying a sack of rice.
"Little?" Isaac protested, "I'm bigger and taller than you!" he called in mock anger.
"That's 'cause you're built like a brick shit house like your pa." The Irishman said laughing his way into the kitchen.
Shaking his head, Isaac turned back as Charles rested a hand on his shoulder. "You've had a long journey, why don't you go in and rest for a bit. We can handle the unloading."
"And miss seeing Harlin's foul?" Isaac scoffed, walking back to the cart. "Besides, Pa asked me to pick something up for him. You know where he is?" Isaac asked climbing up the side of the wagon to retrieve a small wrapped bundle from the front.
"Not sure." Charles admitted, scratching the back of his head.
"That's alright," Isaac called, waving the package as he ran off into the open field. "I'll find him. See you guys later."
Hosea sighed, "That boy gets more energy every day."
Charles smiled up at him as he lifted a barrel of unmarked supplies. "Was Arthur like at as his age?"
Hosea laughed, "I suppose we all were at one point."
Isaac watched as Lathlin pranced alongside her mother. Her rose golden revers dapple pattern shown vibrant and glossy in the rays of the high sun. Harlin snorted and munched away, indifferent to the show off foul.
Lathlin pranced like an expert dressage horse. Legs and neck high and proud, a spring in each innocent step. Isaac vowed then and their, that the horse would never know the fear of gunshots.
Isaac laughed as the foul approached him only to dart away again and hide behind the safety of her mother. The young horse then stuck her head out to see if Isaac and Harlin were still there.
"She is a beautiful animal." Dutch marveled softly, coming up behind him. "Looks just like her father."
Isaac nodded but said nothing.
"So, how was your trip?" Dutch said conversationally and perhaps a bit awkward. He held a book in his hands and casually dangled it over the old fence post as he leaned next to Isaac.
"Yeah, it was fine, uneventful," Isaac answered finally as he continued to watch the dancing foul as a long stretch of silence lapsed between them.
"Well, that's good. Did any of the Bell gang members survive the crash?"
Isaac shook his head. It had taken about as much money to buy and sink a boat as it did to buy the land they now lived off of. But filling the boat with greedy O'Driscolls and the last survivors of the Bell gang left they're conscious relatively clean. All the newspapers had picked up the story the following day. Frontpage on every paper. Bound for Tahiti, the notorious Van Der Lind gang had taken over a boat. The scuffle between the sailors and the gang had caused an explosion in the engine room. No survivors. The memorial graves just outside Roads only reinforced the ruse.
Isaac looked down at the fence post, thoughts turning to his mother and how faking her death had ultimately been the plan that saved the Van Der Linde gang. It was as if somehow, even from the grave, his mother was protecting him.
"Well, you've done good work, Isaac. Looks like we are in the clear."
Isaac nodded sadly before turning to look back at Dutch. The man looked over to him, not down at him.
Dutch looked unsure for a moment. Hesitant, as if trying to figure out what Isaac was thinking. But Isaac knew Dutch would never figure it out. Dutch valued loyalty and family but he never understood anything deeper than that. Something like Love. Isaac hated that he felt pity for the man.
"I've got something for Pa," Isaac said instead. "You know where he is?"
"Yeah, last I saw he was giving Jack swimming lessons down by the lake, with John." Isaac couldn't help but smile with Dutch.
"Isaac." Dutch called as he walked away. "I'm glad your back." he said.
Isaac turned to give him a bright genuine smile. In his own way, Dutch wasn't so bad. "Yeah, it's good to be back."
Isaac and Harlin trotted along the overgrown path out to the lake and from there, followed the shouts and splashes till he reached the two outlaws and teen boy. At first glance, it looked like Arthur was trying to save John from drowning, but after hearing him scream and Jack laughing, Isaac got the impression Arthur was actually trying to drown him.
"Just swim damn you, it ain't that hard." Arthur shouted above the noise of John's frantic splashing. "Kick with your feet! At the water dumbass, not me!"
Jack was doubled over in hysterics as Isaac dismounted.
"Quit flailing, move your arms!" Arthur continued his teachings.
"How can I stop flailing if you want me to move my arms?" John roared in frustration.
"Cause that ain't the same thing! I want you to push out at the water and then back in." after a few seconds the splashing quieted down some and John's expression changed from fearful to surprised and then to the excitement.
"It's working! I'm doing it!" he shouted.
"The hell you are." Arthur chastized. "I'm holding you up!" and to illustrate his point, he let John go.
The splashing immediately resumed and Arthur, frustrated and at the end of his rope, grabbed his brother and hauled him from the shallow lake.
John coughed and gasped on the bank as Jack and Isaac did their best to stifle their laughter.
"You're a bastard," John said between gasps.
"I ain't never pretended to be a saint." Arthur agreed, wringing out the tail of his wet shirt.
Arthur flopped in a soggy heap beside his brother and after a second consideration, he gave John a healthy slap on the back. "If it was any other person I'd say it was plum horrible attempt at swimming, but for you? I think you're getting close to learning the expert swimming stroke called the doggy paddle."
"Shudd up." John growled but without any heat. He opened his mouth to deliver a scathing response of his own when he noticed the newcomer. "Hey Isaac, you just get back?"
"Sure did." he said grinning at the brothers.
"Welcome back," Arthur said, tossing a towel none to gently to John. "How was your trip? They fall for it?"
"Hook line and sinker." He informed them. "It made every front page paper we could find. Um, you asked me to pick this up for you, Pa?" Isaac reminded, wagging the unmarked parcel before he casually handed it over.
Arthur made quick work of the bundle and soon held a small black leather box. Arthur opened it slowly to reveal a red velvet-lined cushion, and pillowed at its center was a beautiful golden Harmonica."
John let out a low whistle as he leaned over Arthur's shoulder to look at the elaborate instrument.
"Saw it is Strawberry years ago, wasn't able to get it at the time and someone else had already bought it before I could go back." Arthur explained, closing the lid with a snap. "I've been looking for it ever since."
"You gunna give that to Dad?" Isaac asked with a Cheshire grin.
"You gunna ask Tilly to marry you?" Arthur countered, smiling as Isaac's face flushed a deep cranberry red.
"Would, would you be my best man if I did?" He asked hesitantly and Arthurs smile dropped for a second before it grew into a wide grin.
"Of course Isaac."
Arthur's chest was tight as Isaac pulled out a ring and passed it around for everyone to see. John, Arthur, and even Jack offered little suggestions of how to pop the question. It was several hours later when they bid each other good night and wandered off to their own homes and rooms.
When Arthur arrived home, he found Charles had evidently fallen asleep reading on their bed. The soft puffs of breath drew a smile from the cowboy as he carefully leaned over the slumbering man and preceded to gently pluck the open book from Charles's limp hand.
Toeing off his boots, Arthur slowly crept behind his outlawfully wedded husband, cocooning him in a soft warm hug of a big spoon. Arthur was careful not to jostle the bed as he eased into place.
Once settled, Arthur nudged the small leather box into Charles's slackened grasp, replacing where the book had been. Feeling quite pleased with himself, Arthur smiled before nestling his fact down in the pillow of Charles's glossy black hair.
He was teetering on the edge of sleep when Charles mumbled something.
"Wha?" He asked disoriented and sluggish.
Charles hummed in response and lazily stretched his back before twisting in Arthurs's arms to face him.
Arthur closed his eyes as warm lips pressed against his.
"I tried to wait up for you but I guess I fell asleep," Charles admitted sleepily.
This time Arthur answered with a hum of his own. "That's just the way it is sometimes." Arthur murmured softly, brushing a few strands of stray hairs from his lover's eyes. Thinking back on what kept him, Arthur found himself smiling.
"What?" Charles asked curiously, stroking the back of Arthurs's neck in the way that left him purring like a cat.
"Isaac is going to propose to Tilly." Preening like the proud father he was.
"Darn," Charles growled, surprising Arthur. "If he had asked on the trip I would have won 50 bucks off Sadie." Arthur chuckled, brushing Charles's head as he continued. "Tho, Reverand Swanson will be pleased we're having another wedding. What's that now, four or five?"
Arthur yawned "five" as Charles rolled further towards him and nuzzled into his neck.
Sighing in frustration Charles sat up. "hold on, something keeps poking me." Charles stuck his hands under the covers, waving around, fished for whatever was there. Eventually, he withdrew a small black box that must have slipped under Charles as he tossed and turned in an attempt to get himself situated in a more comfortable position.
"Care to explain this?" Charles said, lifting the box and catching Arthurs's mischievous smile.
"It's for you." Arthur said with a dopey grin.
Charles laughed, "I figured that, but what's it for?"
Gentle fingers stroked feather-light touches along Charles's arm as Arthur thought. "Well, when I first saw it, it made me think of you. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get it. I thought it was gone for good but I took a chance and put an ad in the paper. By some miracle, I got a response from the gentleman who originally bought it. And it turns out he was willing to sell it. So when Isaac was out east to fake our deaths, I asked him to pick it up for me."
Charles examined the mysterious leather box until Arthur nudged him impatiently. "Well, open it."
The finely made box slowly clapped open and Charles jaw dropped as he took in the expertly made harmonica. Solid gold engraved with ribbons and leaves, cartwheeling around the entire surface with tightly intricate designs. The handle was detailed with a similar curled leaf/ribbon pattern of dark abalone and rainbow mother of peril inlay. It was breathtaking.
"Arthur." Charles whispered, reverently brushing his fingers along the glossy metal.
"You always say you want me to understand how precious I am to you, well, this is just a small token of it but I want you to know the same."
Charles leaned over and with his empty hand, pulled Arthur up by his collar for a heated kiss. Arthur smiled at Charles's enthusiasm.
"So I take it you like it?" he joked as they parted.
"Very much," Charles said, lifting the instrument to his kiss swollen lips and Arthur couldn't look away as Charles began to play a gentle lullaby. The tone was low and rhythmic, floating through the air, smooth and rich like warm dark chocolate. Kissing his husband's shoulder, Arthur began to sing along.
"The many miles we walked
The many things we learn
The building of the shrine
Only just to burn
That's the way it is
That's the way it is
May the wind be at your back
Good fortunes at your hands
May the cards layout a straight
All from your commands
That's the way it is
That's the way it is.
That's the way it is
That's the way it is."