This chapter is one of those moments where I meant for something to happen sooner but forgot to include it in an earlier chapter, so now I have to squeeze two events together. It's fine, I made it work (sort of).
Ah, the difficulties and limitations of writing and editing one chapter per week instead of being able to work with and edit an entire novel lol!
Chapter 41: Valentine
John had a plan. It involved some sheep herding, a sniper rifle, and a question. Though, the question had less to do with the gang and more to do with making his family official.
Abigail would say yes, right? Arthur seemed pretty sure she would.
He thought about what to say a thousand times over the last few days, and he still didn't know if he should make a big show and speech about it or just simply ask. The big show seemed more like Dutch's style. Dutch would have poetry prepared. John didn't think Abigail cared about such things, but he still wanted to make it special. Maybe some flowers? Yeah, flowers. He should pick some flowers.
"Are you alright, John?" Hosea asked. "Keep pacing like that, and you'll split this overlook in half."
"Sorry, I'm fine, just got a lot on my mind."
"Anything I can help with?"
"Could you watch Jack for a bit?" John said. Jack was drawing in the dirt with a stick, thoroughly distracted until John said his name.
"Where are you going, Pa?"
"I thought I'd do something nice for your mama and get her some flowers," John said.
Jack's face lit up. "You should make her a flower necklace!"
"I'm not sure how to do that," John said.
"It's easy! Aunt Tilly taught me how to do it. Let's get some flowers!" Jack said, running off towards the woods.
"Hold on, wait for me!" John said, running after him while Hosea laughed. They collected a few handfuls of flowers and brought them to rock near the edge of camp. Jack grabbed the flowers and began making the chain, and John copied him as best as he could. They had two necklaces of drastically different quality when Abigail found them.
"There you two are! What's going on?"
"We made you necklaces, Mama!" Jack said, running over with the perfect necklace while John's started to fall apart in his hands.
"Oh, isn't that pretty."
"Well, you get one necklace, at least," John said sheepishly, holding up his handful of flowers. "Jack, you might have to fix this one for me."
She laughed. "I appreciate it, but your son is a little better at this."
"I know," John laughed. "Come on, let's sit by the overlook."
There was a rainbow out from an earlier shower, which Abigail and John both paused to appreciate while Jack fixed John's necklace. But he had to ask fast, before he lost his nerve, so he turned to Abigail and said, "It's beautiful, isn't it?"
"It sure is. This is nice, John. A perfect day."
"Well, I'm hoping to make it a little better," he said, pulling the ring out of his pocket and turning to her. "Will you…" John slid off the rock and knelt in front of her. "Will you marry me?"
"What?"
"I know we live together and everything, but I want to make it official. Proper, in front of God."
"Are you serious?" Abigail asked, a smile growing on her face and her eyes brightening.
"I got this ring, I've been wanting to get one for a while now, and Arthur helped me out. Take it. It would make me very happy."
"Yes, yes of course!" she said, pulling John into a kiss and wrapping her arms around him.
"Ew, gross," Jack said, noticing the kiss.
Abigail giggled as they broke off the kiss. "Oh, come here you silly boy," she said, inviting him into a hug.
"You might have to get used to us kissing every once in a while," John said. "Your mama and I are getting married!"
"You are?" Dutch shouted as soon as he heard the news. John and Abigail went to him first, figuring it was the fastest way to announce to the entire gang that they were engaged. "Everyone! John and Abigail are getting married! Susan, sober up the reverend!"
"Dutch, let's plan this out, maybe? Buy some beers for a party, I don't know," John laughed.
"What's this about a wedding?" Hosea asked, appearing at his side. "Oh, it's about time! Honestly, what were you waiting for, John?"
"Hey!"
"Told you Dutch wanted a party," Arthur said, sliding up next to them.
"Oh, Arthur, thank you for helping John. It's a beautiful ring," Abigail said. Before they told Dutch, John explained the story of the ring and Mary. He got nervous midway through, worried she wouldn't want it. But she didn't mind. In fact, she was touched that Arthur thought of them after carrying it for so many years.
"Of course, Abigail," Arthur said, giving her a hug. "I told him you weren't about to leave him, but he wanted to ask all proper."
"I didn't think we'd ever… I'm happy, so happy, but I never expected it."
"Who knew John was a secret romantic!" Arthur teased, turning to John with a grin.
"I was about to say the same about you," Abigail said.
"Well, we need to do something!" Dutch was telling Hosea and Annabelle and anyone who would listen, really. "An engagement party, at least! Tonight! Come on, we need an excuse. I was planning on going into town anyway."
"Do we really need an excuse?" Annabelle asked. "Though, I am glad for this reason."
"I had a job I was looking at for today in town, too," John said. "Actually, Arthur, can I talk to you about it?"
"Do you have to go now?" Abigail asked.
John did feel bad about running off so soon, but his plan only worked that day. "It involves the auction," he explained. "I'll be back soon, I promise."
"So, why do you need me?" Arthur asked.
"I need a rifle with a scope."
"Why?" Arthur asked again.
"Because I need to make a distraction from a distance, okay? You're the best shot in the gang, too. You should come with me on this," John said, heading towards Arthur's tent.
"What? Hold up," Arthur said. "What exactly are we doing?"
"You know how everyone in the area hates Emerald Ranch?" John asked. He'd picked up on the rumor when he and Hosea worked for Seamus, but chatting with a few people in the saloon all but confirmed it. The auctioneers wouldn't think twice about some new ranch hands showed up at the auction and, if they did notice, they probably wouldn't say anything.
"Sure," Arthur said.
"I need the rifle to scare off the ranchers bringing sheep to auction. We'll collect on the sale. Easy money!"
"You ever herd sheep before?" Arthur asked.
"No. But how hard could it be?"
"Depends on how spooked the sheep are." Arthur picked up one of his rifles. "Will this do?"
"It should. Come on," John said, leading the way to the horses.
"Hold on, why do I have to go on this job?"
"I told you. You're the best shot," John said. "It's fine, no one will know you're involved."
"I'm holding you to that," Arthur grumbled, but followed.
"Besides, considering you haven't set up your store in town yet, you need to earn your keep," John teased. The glare he received in return would normally cause him to cower, but he was feeling good that day.
"I'm not selling in town because if those Pinkertons show up, they'll recognize me," Arthur said bitterly, and John suddenly felt bad about his comment. Yet another thing ruined by Blackwater.
"Well, we can have some fun today," John said, grabbing Old Boy and heading out of the trees.
"I suppose it will be some fun. I want to see you herd those sheep," Arthur said with a laugh, following close behind.
"Come on!"
They loped across the Heartlands, heading up onto a ridge to watch for the ranchers. John leaned over the pommel, binoculars in his hand, scanning the plains. "There!" he said, pointing at the herd. "That must be them."
"Okay," Arthur said, sliding off Boadicea and crouching down at the edge.
"Put a shot in near them, I reckon they'll hightail it. And don't kill anyone," John said. "Just scare them."
"I know, I know," Arthur said.
"And watch the sheep!"
"I haven't been away from this life for that long!"
"You sure? It's been ten years."
"I can handle it." Arthur pulled the trigger once and all the sheep scattered. Most of the ranchers scattered, too but one stuck around. "Looks like one of them don't scare too easy."
"Put another shot in close, he'll get the message," John said.
Arthur fired again, and the last rancher turned his horse and ran off. "There he goes!"
"Let's go round them up!"
Despite John's confidence, rounding up the sheep proved to be difficult. Arthur got most of them onto the road, and laughed as John chased down a few strays that didn't want to be directed.
"Gentle, Marston. Don't run at them."
"Oh, like you could do better."
"Just leave the sheep to me. You ride shank, keep watch for any trouble."
"I brought you in on this!" John shouted back at him.
"It'll be quicker this way, trust me," Arthur said. "This ain't the right time for you to be learning how to herd."
"Ten years later and you still think you're in charge," John said, but let Arthur do what he wanted. Besides, the sheep were moving in the right direction, unlike before. He couldn't help but think Arthur was a natural at this, like everything else. Shooting, drawing, crafting, and now herding sheep of all things. Too bad they never got that ranch.
But when they got to the auction yard, things took a turn. The men took one look at the sheep and got suspicious.
"Fine sheep," John said, trying to stay casual.
"They're okay," the auctioneer said.
"Well, you seen better round here?" Arthur asked, stepping up next to John. Always the big brother, trying to take charge.
"I've seen ones with less… ambiguity about their provenance," the man replied.
"What you trying to say?" Arthur asked. John tried pushing him back.
"Ignore him, he's new," John said, glaring at Arthur.
"Seems you both are," the man continued. "I'm trying to say you give me twenty five percent kick back and I won't say nothing to nobody."
"Excuse me?" Arthur said.
"Sure, I'll excuse you. For twenty five percent."
"Fifteen," John said. They weren't talking their way out of this.
"Twenty."
"Eighteen."
"Done." He and the auctioneer shook hands, while Arthur kicked the dirt next to him. John motioned to him to shake on it, too, and reluctantly Arthur did.
"Calm yourself, friend," the auctioneer said. "Just think of it as I'm buying your sins."
"You're buying, but we're paying," Arthur grumbled, but he followed John into town. "Eighteen percent? And I thought we was doing the robbing here!"
"Sometime you got to pay a little to cover your tracks, or don't you remember?" John said.
"I know, I just feel like we got hustled, that's all."
"Still good money," John said. "Come on, Dutch is waiting for us at the saloon."
"He is?"
"Come on, sunshine, I'll buy you a whiskey," said John, leading the way up the street.
They walked into the saloon, interrupting some flirting between Dutch and Annabelle.
"Don't mind us," Arthur said with a smirk.
"Oh, Arthur, where have you been?"
"Working. Marston's thing."
"And?" Dutch asked.
"We're just waiting to get some pay on a few sheep."
"After all these years, he's back to rustling," Annabelle said, shaking her head and giving Arthur a teasing smile.
"Hey!"
"I brought him in on it," John said. "I needed his shooting skills."
Dutch raised an eyebrow, but didn't question John further. "Well, you should probably make sure everything goes alright at the auction."
John led the way outside and back towards the auction yard. "I guess he wants some alone time," he snickered.
But Arthur didn't get a chance to respond. Multiple armed men appeared, first grabbing Arthur and then John, dragging them back towards the saloon. "What the hell?" Arthur said, pulling away from them.
The lawman or security or whatever he was hit Arthur over the head, and John shouted and struggled until a gun was brought up to his throat. A man in a suit rode up on a Standardbred, calling out, "Van der Linde! Get out here!"
John's wide eyes met Arthur's slightly dazed but clearing stare as they were dragged in place.
"Van der Linde! You don't know me, but you keep robbing me. My name is Leviticus Cornwall. I am not a man to be messed with by the likes of you."
Cornwall… John knew that name. Hosea had mentioned stolen bonds from that train robbery in the mountains, though John barely remembered anything about Colter. It seemed Hosea's worries about the man were justified, but Dutch would think of something. And Annabelle was with him, together they'd come up with a plan.
"Get out here," Cornwall continued, "before I have these men killed!"
There was no movement in the saloon.
"Get out here you depraved piece of trash! You think I got where I am by letting scum like you rob from me? Van der Linde, you're done. Now get out here, now!" Cornwall turned to his men when Dutch didn't appear. "Deal with this nonsense," he said, riding away.
John glanced at Arthur again while they were forced to their knees, looking for the confidence he always expected from his brother. But Arthur looked… wrong. It took John a second to realize that Arthur was shaking.
His stomach tightened as the guilt rushed through him. He invited Arthur on this job, told him it would be easy, had been a jerk about Arthur not setting up his trapper stall in town. But Arthur wasn't an outlaw anymore and he only just made it back to the gang after weeks of separation.
Where the hell was Dutch?
"Don't shoot!" Annabelle screamed from inside, putting on her best impression of a frightened girl. John tensed, getting ready to move. Annabelle probably learned this technique from Karen, and he knew how effective it would be. "Please, don't shoot! He ran out the back!"
And in the instant the gunmen checked their surroundings, Annabelle moved. She shot the guard holding John, and John wrenched the gun out of his hands to shoot the one holding Arthur.
Arthur fortunately didn't freeze, picking up a revolver of his own and stumbling behind a wagon.
"We need to get out of here," Dutch said. "Get to the horses!"
"Where are they?" John shouted.
"Other side of town," Annabelle replied. "Through the yard, come on!"
"No, we should-"
But Arthur was already following Annabelle behind the buildings, and John wasn't about to be left behind.
"They're on the roof," Annabelle warned, but Arthur was fast, taking down the gunmen and running to Boadicea. John and Dutch made it soon after.
"John, you make sure nobody's following us," Dutch said. "We'll get back to camp. We're gonna gather the troops and get them to start packing up."
"Can't stick around after this," Arthur said, eyes scanning for more gunmen. And they were on their way.
"Let's go!" Dutch said, leading the way out of Valentine.
John didn't stick around long, just shooting at enough of the men to get their attention before he jumped on Old Boy. "Let's go!" he said, ducking his head and pushing the warhorse west towards the Dakota. A few of Cornwall's men managed to mount up and pursue, but he shot two off their horses. He urged Old Boy down a narrow path and into the trees before finally allowing the horse some rest. He couldn't hear any more horses heading his way, but he still took his time weaving through the paths and back and forth over the river before returning to camp.
"Pa!" Jack said, running over to him.
"Careful around Old Boy," John scolded without thinking, but he gathered his son in his arms and held him tight.
"John!"
Abigail was at his side next, wrapping her arms around him. He held her for a minute, wondering how so much had gone wrong between his proposal and that moment.
He let her go. There was work to be done.
Most of the tents were down by the time he got there, and the wagons were almost packed. He saw Annabelle and Dutch immediately, arguing with Hosea in their tent. Well, Annabelle and Hosea seemed to be on one side and Dutch on the other, but where was Arthur?
"Dutch-"
"What?" Dutch said, turning on John.
"Where's Arthur?"
"He went with Charles to clear out Dewberry Creek for our new camp. We need to start heading their now."
"Dewberry Creek?" John said. He scouted that place himself, stumbling across the old mill when looking for places to hit the train. It was open and in a ditch. "Why there?"
"Micah knew about it, and since we didn't plan on heading southeast, it's our best lead."
"I don't think it's a good spot."
"Do you have a better idea, son?"
"No."
"Because we should be heading west!" Hosea said.
Dutch sighed. "I'm aware of that, but we can't with the way Blackwater is, and now Cornwall on our tail."
"And why is that again? Right, you decided to rob that train in the mountains! We could have hidden over here for months the way things were going, and now we keep heading east. When does it stop, when we reach Paris?"
"Oh that would be nice. Join a commune."
John left them to their fight. He glared at Micah, who wasn't lifting a finger to help, checked in with Isaac, then joined Karen in organizing the girls' wagon. Trying to get all their possessions into their few wagons was a complicated puzzle that John hated.
"What happened in town?" Karen asked.
"Cornwall brought a damn army because we robbed his train, that's what happened."
"I can't believe we're moving again," Tilly said, joining them.
"Me neither," John said.
Soon, they were leaving Horseshoe Overlook, one of John's favorite camps since they left Montana less than a year ago. Jack sat on Old Boy with John, having begged to ride with him, and John paused to take one last look at their camp before following the wagons out.
But before they could get to Dewberry Creek, Charles met them. "Dutch, we found a good spot for camp along the lake. It's a bit far, but it can't be seen from the road and can be better defended."
"Well, lead the way," Dutch said, and they were off.