Warning: for Micah Bell being an asshole: Considering how Micah calls Arthur Black Lung all through Chapter 6, it made sense for his character to focus in on Arthur's amputated leg and use of crutches. He refers to Arthur as a cripple in this chapter, and this will be the only instance where Micah uses that word, but I did want to warn in advance.

Chapter 28: Newcomers

They followed the Grizzlies south as far as their supplies allowed, always sending scouts ahead, peering over the shoulder behind to make sure they weren't being followed.

Arthur felt safe, well safer, as more time passed since Montana. As the snows moved in and slowed their progress, Dutch liked to boast that they'd left any tailing bounty hunters long behind and they had to be the only fools up there. But eventually, they needed to return to town, if the one general store, one post office, and one sheriff's office along the foothills of the mountains could be called that.

"Well, at least that poster isn't for any of us," Hosea said as they passed the bounty board. There was only one listed for robbery and horse theft, and it wasn't likely to catch anyone. The picture was half-scribbled of a man with dark skin and long hair. More detail had been given to the pocket watch he'd supposedly stolen, for which the owner was offering a handsome reward. "This could be easy money if the thief still has it."

"If I were the thief, I would have sold it to a fence somewhere," said Arthur.

"I suppose the owner is hoping the thief kept it," Dutch said, hopping off the Count and grabbing the poster. "Perhaps we should send someone out to look for this feller. It has the possibility of two rewards. Maybe Mac. And Javier is rather good at tracking."

"Would be decent money," Arthur said.

"You after that bounty?" a man in a suit, looking out of place in the small mountain town, asked.

"Maybe," Dutch said.

"Make sure you keep an eye out for that watch. It's a family heirloom! Daddy will be most cross if I lose it! I hope they hang that thief. I almost didn't see him, you know. He almost got away with it, but I looked up and I saw him riding out of town. So I shot at him, but he galloped off."

"You sure you didn't just drop the watch?" Hosea asked with false kindness.

After the man huffed and walked off, Arthur laughed, "Ten years ago, I would have robbed him, too."

Hosea nodded and said, "We weren't planning to stick around long anyway."

"I suppose not," Dutch said.

"Shall we move on?" Hosea asked, and they both agreed. "I don't think you'll be able to find a wooden leg here."

"Nope," Arthur agreed. "Not when there ain't even a doctor."

"You looking for a doctor?" a man outside the store said. "There's one off the mountain in Cody."

"Thank you, sir," Hosea said.

"We're not going to detour to Cody, are we?" Arthur asked. "It really ain't necessary."

"It kind of is," Dutch said. "I know you and Isaac are doing a fine job hunting right now, but it would be much easier for you-"

"I'm fine, Dutch."

"There is nothing wrong with swinging by and seeing if there's someone and how long it would take."

"What if there's bounty hunters there? We're too close to Montana still, it just… makes me nervous, Dutch. I think we should keep moving."

Dutch sighed, leaning over to pat Arthur on the shoulder. "Okay, son. I understand. Shall we buy our supplies and get back to camp?

"Probably a good idea," Hosea said.

"You stay up there, Arthur," Dutch said, and Arthur laughed, patting Boadicea on the neck.

"Don't know why you brought me along," he said back.

"To watch out for trouble," Hosea said. "And I figured you were bored!"

Arthur stayed on Boadicea, drawing the small town. It was true that he was getting bored in camp. Yes, he still went out hunting with his son, but once he was back in camp, everyone tried there best to make sure Arthur wasn't inconvenienced with work. What he wouldn't give to just get his own damn coffee. He could move on one crutch and hold coffee in the other hand. But try telling Dutch or Hosea that.

He knew they felt guilty. Those bounty hunters were after them, well the whole gang, but Dutch and Hosea had the highest bounties. They were the same around John and Abigail, always offering to buy new items whenever they realized they had lost something else they needed to the fire.

"Okay, we're all set," Dutch said, putting their shopping items in their saddlebags.

"We should get going. I don't like the look of those clouds." Hosea pointed out a dark, threatening line of storms headed there way.

"Should we try to get a room?" Dutch suggested.

"Not sure if this town has rooms," Arthur said.

"I think we can make it back to camp," Hosea said.

Unfortunately, Hosea was a little too optimistic. Soon, the snow was almost upon them, with a few flurries making their way onto the path. "Maybe we should make camp," Arthur said. "I can shoot us some rabbits for dinner real quick."

"Let me," Hosea said. "Don't want any shotgun incidents, do we?"

"That was like fifteen years ago!"

"Let me collect some firewood," Dutch said.

"So, what am I supposed to do?"

"Just relax, Arthur."

Arthur huffed, but let them do as they wanted. He fed the horses and pulled off their tents and bedrolls, but setting up a tent while maneuvering on his crutch was a slow process and Dutch dropped all the wood to help him once he got back.

"How about we write to that guy in Denver," Dutch offered. "We should be going through that way anyway. And he did good work on your first leg."

"As long as we can get in there without the law finding out," Arthur said.

"I think Colorado is far enough that we'll be fine."

Arthur started building the fire while Dutch finished with the tents, and soon they heard footsteps coming their way. "Hosea must have gotten lucky," Arthur said, but the man and horse that stepped out were not Hosea and Silver Dollar.

It was the man from the bounty poster, leading an Appaloosa mare. He had a long scar running up his right cheek starting at his jaw, and watched them warily, almost weighing the risk of talking to them. Dutch and Arthur exchanged a glance before Dutch carefully said, "Hello."

"I don't mean to bother you, but do you have any bandages. I can pay," the man said.

Arthur then noticed the tear in the man's shirt sleeve and the way he tried to hide a slight swaying.

"We do have bandages, and medicine," Dutch said. "Why don't you sit down, friend?"

"I just need the bandages," he continued.

"So, did you get that scratch from bounty hunters, or that foolish fop whose watch you stole?"

The man's hand twitched towards his sawed-off shotgun.

"I mean you no harm, friend," Dutch said. "I have no qualms with taking from rich idiots like him. Besides, there's a storm coming, and my friend here can sew, if that wound needs stitching."

The man stayed silent for a moment, and seemed to be leaning towards taking the risk and joining them, when he tensed and turned. Hosea stepped out of the woods, dead rabbit in one hand and his revolver in the other. "Any trouble, Dutch?" Hosea asked.

"None at all, Hosea," Dutch said, standing up and keeping his hands visible. "Just someone looking for some bandages, no trouble at all. What's your name, friend?"

"Charles Smith."

"Mr. Smith, I promise that no one at this camp is going to harm you or turn you into the law. In fact, we ain't moving until this storm is over, so please, sit down. Let us help you out."

Charles hesitated, and then sat down at the fire. Arthur pulled a roll of bandages out of his satchel and shuffled over to him. "I can do that," Charles said, reaching out for the bandages.

"Nonsense," Hosea said. "It's always harder to take care of your own injury, especially on your arm. Roll up your sleeve."

Arthur smiled when Hosea's no-nonsense attitude caused Charles to roll up his sleeve as he was told. He still watched them carefully as Hosea cleaned out the scratch and asked Arthur, "I don't think this needs stitches, do you?"

"Should be fine with just a bandage," Arthur said. "You got lucky."

"How about I set up your tent?" Dutch asked.

"No, you shouldn't."

"It's no trouble!"

"My horse doesn't like strangers," Charles explained.

Hosea laughed at that and said, "I know you want to appear useful, Dutch, but maybe don't get kicked in the face today."

"What did you do with the watch?" Arthur asked.

"Sold it to someone who didn't ask too many questions," Charles said.

"Where are you from?" Dutch asked.

"I don't really have a home. I moved around most of my life."

"And did you steal many watches during that time?"

"I…" Charles said. "Why?"

"Perhaps you've heard of me. Dutch van der Linde. It's hard to judge a man for thievery when we're just as guilty of it."

"You're the gang of bank robbers."

"Trains and stagecoaches, too," Dutch said.

"I think what Dutch is trying to say is that if you don't turn us in, we won't turn you in," Hosea said. "Now, this is going to sting."

Charles hissed when the alcohol hit the open wound, but didn't flinch away. Once Hosea finished bandaging his arm, Charles said, "Thank you. I'll be on my way."

"Sit down, son," Dutch said. "The snow has only gotten worse, and you are in no danger here, I promise! Have some food and get some rest."

Charles looked out at the snow, then said, "Alright."

"Have you ever run with a gang, Mr. Smith?" Dutch asked, sending a wink to Hosea and Arthur. He knew Dutch was thinking about it, and Arthur suspected the question was coming since Charles asked to buy bandages from them instead of trying to rob them.

"I did, a few times, but it didn't work out. I work better alone."

"Maybe you just haven't found the right people," Hosea said. He took a bite of food, then suddenly started coughing.

"You okay?" Arthur asked.

"I'm fine. I think it's just the cold," Hosea said.

"As long as you're sure."

Next to Hosea, Charles was beginning to blink heavily. "I think you should rest," Hosea told him. "Go ahead, use that tent on the end."

"I can set up my own-" Charles started to say, but Dutch shook his head.

"You need rest, son. We've got plenty of room in the other two tents."

"Who gets to snuggle with who?" Hosea asked, nudging Dutch.

"I'll leave you boys to it," Arthur said, snagging one of the tents to himself. He looked over to Charles across the way, laying down but stubbornly keeping his eyes open. Arthur settled down into his bedroll with a sigh. Hopefully Charles could relax and get some sleep, too.

Arthur yawned and stretched when he woke up the next morning, looking around the camp. Charles had settled into his tent last night, so Arthur stole Hosea's. He looked over at Charles, happy to see that the man was fast asleep.

"Morning, Bo," he said to his horse. She'd settled next to Charles' Appaloosa during the night, and the two horses seemed to get along well, even if the Appaloosa stepped away from him when he started brushing Boadicea down. "Hey, girl, want a carrot?"

He held a carrot out to the Appaloosa, and after holding him in a judgmental stare for a few seconds, she took the offered food. "There you go. And one for Bo, of course."

Soon, the Appaloosa was sniffing his satchel and looking for more. Arthur chuckled as he gave her more food, using the opportunity to get a bit closer and start brushing her down, too. The Appaloosa relaxed, and even started getting playful, grabbing his hat just as he heard Charles jolt awake in his tent.

"Now, girl, give my hat back," Arthur said with a laugh.

Charles cautiously exited the tent as Arthur tried to snatch his brown gambler hat away from the Appaloosa. She snorted, tossing her head. "You like my hat, don't you?" Arthur asked her. "My son gave me that, and I don't think he'd be too happy if you chewed it up. Will you trade for a carrot?"

The horse took the offered carrot, then turned her head to Charles as he emerged from the tent. "She normally doesn't like strangers," Charles said.

Arthur turned around, giving him a wave. "We came to an understanding. A little bribery always works. What's her name?"

"Taima."

"Mine's Boadicea," Arthur said, pointing at his Thoroughbred mare. "You doing better?"

"It doesn't hurt as much. Thank you," Charles said.

"There he is!" Dutch said, exiting his tent with Hosea. "How are you, son?"

"Better."

"Good! Now, there is something Hosea and I have been wanting to ask, and I think Arthur as well. How would you like to join our gang?"

Charles hesitated, but Dutch understood his uncertainty. "We ain't your normal robbers and thieves. We only rob those who deserve it. Rich idiots like that man you robbed yesterday. Folk who made their fortune by withholding decent wages. Those who steal from the good people of society. And not all of our number are outlaws, either. Arthur brings in honest money for us. We've got a cook, a reverend… it's a family. One that's grown a lot in the last few years."

"I don't know-"

"We think you would fit in well with us," Hosea added. "You can join us for a job or two, see how you like it."

"Alright," Charles finally said. "For a job or two."

"Good," Dutch said. "We'll be happy to have you. Shall we head back to our camp?"

Over the next few weeks, Arthur got to know Charles a little. Charles didn't talk to the others much, which was awkward for the others who were curious about the newcomer. But Arthur didn't mind the quiet, and soon Charles started sitting near him to craft arrows or improve his bow when Arthur was sewing clothes or drawing in his journal. He was also an expert hunter and tracker, and Arthur invited him to join on him and Isaac on a hunt. But Charles liked hunting silently with his bow while Arthur and Isaac always used guns. "You may get one deer, but you scare off the rest of the herd. Could take days to track down another," Charles explained.

Isaac snickered, and Arthur sent him a glare before he said, "Hey, I think I'm doing alright! Isaac and I got all these pelts!"

"You could get more if you tracked and killed silently."

"Well, I tried a bow once, but never really got the hang of it."

"I could teach you," Charles offered.

"I don't know, kind of hard to teach an old dog new tricks, you know?" Arthur said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Can I try?" Isaac asked.

"Sure," Charles said.

"Traitor," Arthur whispered jokingly in Isaac's ear, and his son elbowed him in the stomach before running after Charles.

Arthur did join them for the lesson, impressed with how Charles patiently corrected Isaac's stance and aim before letting him fire the arrows at their hay bale target. "See? Easy," Charles said when Isaac hit the target three times in a row. "I bet you could learn, Arthur."

"Maybe I'll give it a try, when I've got two legs again," Arthur chuckled.

"What happened? If you don't mind me asking," Charles said.

"To the real leg or the false one?" Arthur said. "The short story is that it got half-blown off by a shotgun, and a doctor took care of the rest. The false one broke about a month ago because I jumped out a window, though I don't remember doing it."

"How long ago did you lose it?"

"Been ten years now. Just don't tell Sean, alright? He's been trying to guess it for years."

"Shouldn't be a problem," Charles said. "I prefer to not talk to Sean."

"Can I go with Charles on a hunt, Pa?" Isaac asked.

"What, I'm not invited?"

"You can come. We can use your horse to carry extra game," Charles said, the side of his mouth twitching into a smile.

"Reduced to being transportation," Arthur laughed back, but he still joined them.

As they journeyed down the Grizzlies, the gang continued to gain new members. The first was Lenny Summers. When Dutch and Annabelle came across the young black man, he'd been on the run from a murder charge for nearly four years. After talking with Lenny at the saloon, Dutch invited him back to the gang.

"I think he wants a new, intelligent mind to mold," Annabelle told Arthur after talking with Lenny for a bit.

"Yeah, we've been lacking young, intelligent minds recently," Arthur joked, watching Sean and John enter into a drunk knife throwing contest.

Lenny wasn't just smart and well-read. His skills on robberies made up for his lack of experience. Dutch sent Annabelle, Lenny, and John out to rob a banking coach, and it was a successful job. They came back a few hours later with their spirits high and several gold bars, cementing Lenny's place in the gang.

The next was Jenny Kirk, who they found abandoned on the side of the road. She'd worked as a nanny for a rich family, but when the coach broke down and couldn't be fixed, the family took the horses and left her there. Dutch and Hosea gave her some food and offered to escort her to the nearest town, but once they left the mountains and got to town, Jenny decided to stay with them.

As they approached Denver, Charles, Isaac, and Arthur were riding out almost daily to get meat and pelts, and Arthur was itching to get a new leg. He was tired of sitting on his horse while Charles and Isaac got to do all the fun. Still, it was worthwhile. He liked riding with Charles, and was constantly impressed with his knowledge, strength, and patience. Plus, he was good with Isaac, teaching his son more about tracking and hunting than Arthur had ever picked up.

"Just think, soon you'll be able to join us," Charles said as they rode back into camp.

"Very funny," Arthur said, getting off Boadicea. It took him a second to realize the camp was in a frenzy. "What the hell?"

"Arthur," Dutch said. "I'm afraid we need to get out of the area. I may have caused some trouble at a bar earlier."

"What sort of trouble?" Arthur groaned.

"I tried to find us a fence for those gold bars, didn't go so well, I'm afraid. We are going to keep heading south, but I did meet-"

"Who's the cripple, Dutch?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes at the newcomer. He had blond hair and a horseshoe mustache, and looked down on Arthur as if Arthur were the unwelcome stranger. Dutch simply said, "Micah, this is Arthur Morgan and his son, Isaac. Arthur is one of the gang's founding members. Arthur, meet Micah Bell. He saved my life when that fence tried to shoot me."

"You couldn't save your own life?" Arthur asked Dutch.

"I guess I was just in the right place at the right time," Micah said.

"Well, you ain't there now."

"I invited Mr. Bell back here," Dutch said. "I believe he could be an asset. Why don't you get some food, Micah, while Arthur and I chat?"

"Thank you, Boss," Micah said, smirking as he walked away.

Once he was out of earshot, Arthur said, "I don't like him."

"Give him a chance, Arthur," Dutch said. "I know he's a bit rough around the edges, but he's run on his own for a while and is still figuring out his place in a group."

"Same with Lenny and Charles, but they weren't assholes about it," Hosea said, joining them.

"I don't like the feeling I get from him," Annabelle added.

"Just give him a chance, please?" Dutch said. "He really did save my life."

"You could have just given him some money," Hosea grumbled.

"Just for a bit. See how he does on jobs."

Hosea sighed. "Fine! But if he fucks up, he's your responsibility."

"Fine," Dutch said. "Now Arthur, I'm sorry, but I don't think we can stick around Denver to get your wooden leg, but maybe we can get one in Blackwater. I've heard that town has grown a lot in the last few years, and I think there might be opportunity for us."