He thought his irritation at the situation would diminish by the next morning, but it wasn't to be. When he put on his new fingerless leather gloves, he remembered whose money had paid for them. When he drank his coffee at the campfire that morning, he remembered whose money had paid for a new percolator for the camp. When he'd oiled his revolver after yesterday's gunfight, he remembered whose money had paid for the better-quality holster he slipped the weapon into. It was infuriating, this debt of gratitude. It must have showed on his face, because he could feel the others keeping their distance.

Then, there was the fact that, as a man of honor, Arthur was obligated to give the O'Driscoll convert a share of the haul. It was so large that even after giving $200 to the camp fund and splitting the rest four ways, it was still substantial. As he approached, intent on getting the deed over with, the boy stopped what he was doing and pried. "Did ya find the money in the chimney, sir?"

He just chucked the wad of cash at his head and kept on walking. "Yer share." The poor kid looked baffled, torn by sheer awe at holding so much money in his hands, and dismay at Arthur's cold treatment. Well, joke was on him, because Arthur had no intention of letting him leave camp. The money would just sit, hidden away, with no opportunities to be spent. Maybe it would drive him crazy.

As he approached his horse, prepared to ride out somewhere just for the sake of getting out of camp, he nearly stumbled over Hosea, who was sitting and polishing his rifle. The older man remained as calm as ever. "Mornin' Arthur."

"Mornin' Hosea." He kept going without thinking twice, but Hosea's voice caught up with him.

"Where are you off to, Arthur?"

"I dunno. Around." He shrugged. To be fair, his response wasn't noncommittal as much as he truly didn't know.

"How about you and I go hunting, for old times' sake?"

Arthur looked around at the general bustle of the camp. "Are you sure that's a good idea, Hosea? Both of us leavin' at the same time?"

"Arthur, they are fully capable of not burning the camp down for the day." He paused, reconsidering. "Okay, maybe not Sean, but he'd do it regardless of whether we were there or not. What happened to trust?"

That jabbed at something sensitive inside of Arthur. "Ever since I had to take over for Dutch, I've gained a good idea of why he never trusted nobody. Somethin's gonna blow up, and it'll all be on you when it does."

Hosea doubted that was the reason for Dutch's increasing paranoia in the months leading up to his death, but he didn't mention it. Instead, he used the rifle to push himself up to his feet. "This is exactly why you and I should get away for a little while. Don't think I haven't noticed how tense you've been acting lately. You take it out on somebody, like the O'Driscoll or that fella from Valentine, then you go run a guns-blazing mission to distract yourself. I think we've got a lot to discuss, you and I. And if we can catch some rabbits for Pearson while we're at it, all the better."

Arthur had to snort. "With that?" he nodded at the rifle.

"Hmph, no, the rabbits are on you. This is for the wolves, should we happen upon any."

"We won't go too far?"

"No. I figure just down by the Dakota River. Be back by sundown. Can't I convince you?"

As if Arthur could ever say 'no' to Hosea Matthews, the man he loved as a father and perhaps the only being on Earth he trusted with his vulnerabilities. "Fine, fine. If I'm bein' honest, it would be nice. You and me, we haven't gone out for a hunt in…damn! I don't even remember."

This earned a smile. "Load up Tennessee then. I'll meet you here with Silver Dollar in a few minutes."

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Hosea's instincts had been dead on. The area near the river was teeming with deer and birds, though the rabbits he'd mentioned were nowhere in sight. Despite all the opportunities, Hosea had not once raised his gun, leaving Arthur to shoot a pair of pheasants and a deer in quick succession. It did not go unnoticed.

"Hey, Hosea, you come out here to watch or are ya actually gonna pull the trigger on somethin'?" Arthur teased as he finished strapping his latest kill to Tennessee's back. It was obvious that being out in the wilds, free from camp concerns, he was unwinding.

"I'm pacing myself. You've already loaded your horse to maximum capacity. What if something special comes along? Tossing something you've already killed would be a waste." Suddenly, Hosea hopped off his horse. "Come on, Arthur. Let's stop and eat something. This is a perfect spot."

The spot didn't look any better than any other along that stretch of the river, but Arthur figured it was about time for their promised heart to heart. After so many years riding with the man, he liked to think he knew him well enough to make these predictions.

Arthur wasn't wrong. Once Hosea passed him an apple, he let his eyes linger on his adopted son. "It's been eating at me since our last big discussion in Colter, you know."

"What has?" Arthur nervously took a big bite.

"The way you seemed so desperate for my approval. It occurs to me that perhaps Dutch and I did you a great disservice by always having you follow our lead, robbing you of chances to be your own person as you grew up."

"Hosea, I ain't never complained about that! I'm happy with the life I've had!"

"No, of course you haven't complained. It's all you've ever known since you were fourteen. And the problem is, here you are how many years later, and decisions are suddenly being thrust upon you now that Dutch is gone. I fear the pressure is eating away at you, and it's our fault for not preparing you for this day."

"What makes ya say that? Is it because of that train robbery? Me gettin' into that fight in Valentine? The attack on Colm yesterday?" Arthur seemed to have a long list of things he considered failings in his short tenure as leader, which only served to illustrate Hosea's point.

"The last one in particular was fool-hardy, I won't deny it, but it isn't about the quality of your decisions for the group. My boy, I'm more worried about how you're acting between decisions. It's as if…" Hosea hummed thoughtfully, trying to find the right words to express his concern. "I guess it seems as though you are so anxious that you are lashing out at people to cope with it. If it can get channeled by running a mission, all the better, but when it's not…" He shook his head. "The train didn't go as planned, and you tried so hard to rein in your frustration for my sake, but finally it overwhelmed you and you snapped during that bar fight. Rescuing Sean was a good distraction and turned out very well; I thought we were back on track, but the next day something about the O'Driscoll got the better of you and you flew off with Charles and John without thinking things through. Now you're even more uptight than you were before, and stomping around like a holy terror!"

"I fucked the whole thing up yesterday," Arthur admitted, his voice quivering with anger. Hosea almost regretted bringing it up when his boy had been so at peace not five minutes ago, but it had to be done. This anger eating at him needed an outlet, and he was determined to be that outlet. "I'm no good at this."

"Arthur, you do fine at it as long as you are keeping a clear head. When you are feeling overwhelmed, you need to find a way to slow down and take a breath, regain your control over the situation. You have always been impulsive, but it has always been harnessed up until now. Dutch can't do that for you anymore, and I won't be able to forever either. Do you understand?"

"Yessir," Arthur mumbled, his apple long forgotten with only the single bite taken out of it.

Hosea sighed. "I didn't want this to be about tough love, I just want to get to the heart of what is bothering you so I can help. I can't for the life of me figure out why that O'Driscoll got you so worked up. After how you've been acting, you've got a lot of ground to cover if you are ever going to coax trust from him. He didn't choose to join us just to be the whipping-boy of a different dictator."

That was unexpected. At the very mention of Kieran Duffy, Arthur ground his teeth, any sense of repentance flying out the window. "Why the hell should I care about his trust? He's just a filthy ex-O'Driscoll who's scared of his own shadow!"

Hosea gave him an unimpressed look. "No compassion, I take it?"

"Why should I? When I was younger than him I was takin' care o' myself and doin' what I had to do to survive. That's why you and Dutch took me in; you liked that about me. That sorry excuse for an outlaw only survives on other people's pity."

"Is that why you've been in such a foul mood since your mission yesterday? You can't stomach weakness? Seems odd, considering you hauled Swanson all the way back to camp without a word of complaint the other day."

Arthur rubbed his forehead as he inhaled deeply. "I thought takin' out Colm when I had the chance was the best thing to do for our gang. I shoulda waited until more people were ready to ride, but I wanted to be done with 'im as soon as possible. Then, I was stupid and went in alone and nearly got shot. If Charles had been the one to save me, or…hell, even if it had been John, that would be different. No. That kicked puppy had to be the one to save my hide."

"And that somehow gives him leverage? I fail to see the problem."

He gave an exasperated sigh. "Doncha get it? If he's weak, and he ended up savin' me, what does that make me?"

"Aaaaand back to the anxiety. Okay, I follow."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "You gonna tell me the part where he pointed out the ridiculous amounts of money that we never woulda found otherwise only makes me pissed off 'cause of my fragile ego, too?"

Hosea looked him dead in the eyes. "Yep." Finally, he reached for his apple and took a bite, letting the single word sink in.

Arthur growled before taking another savage bite out of his. "He probably thinks he's hot shit."

"He probably was so excited that he was able to finally be useful to someone, and you brushed his work aside," Hosea corrected.

"That's it!" Hosea thought he was going to storm off, but it seemed he meant that expression in a different way, the sort of way when one has an epiphany. "That's why I can't stand 'im!"

"Dare I ask?"

"What you said, about 'bein' happy to be useful'. I can't stand 'im because he has no pride! There ain't nothin' he wouldn't do! He grovels and he cries and he begs… Why I bet he'd lick yer boot if you told 'im to! And all that, that makes me feel...sorry. Like when ya see a starvin' stray out in the rain. I hate it!"

Kieran was vulnerability personified, the most extreme case he'd ever come across in all his years, and he understood why it would grate against Arthur and his attitude of self-reliance. What Hosea didn't want to let on, however, was that, based on his recent epiphanies, Arthur may actually have something in common with the boy who was so desperate to please. Did Arthur realize this, hard as it might be to see given how successful he was in his attempts to earn praise, or was he repressing this truth like so many things? "Arthur, that's called 'empathy'. It is a normal human emotion."

"Well outlaws ain't supposed to have empathy!"

Hosea chuckled. "I think Mary-Beth missed that memo."

He threw up his hands. "Tell me about it! I'm 99% sure she was spoon-feedin' 'im oatmeal yesterday!"

"No surprise, but you and I both know that's why you have a soft-spot for her."

"Hey, that's not-"

"Anyway, at least we know what the problem is now; that's half the battle right there. As for the solution, well, I don't think you're going to like it, I'm afraid."

"Do tell," he rolled his eyes.

"You should spend time with him, toughen that boy up. I'm willing to bet he never had people looking out for him the way you did. Maybe in the process, he'll smooth out some of your edges. It would be mutually beneficial. Once you learn how to get along with him, you will have one less thing agitating you."

It looked as if Arthur had just swallowed a bitter pill, and he had, figuratively. Before he could complain, however, Hosea was reaching for his shotgun. The blast that followed rattled his teeth due to his proximity. "What the hell was that?!"

Hosea shielded his eyes against the sun glistening off the water. "Would you take a look at that ram? The horns are exquisite! And the coat? What a luster! That'll sell for a pretty penny. That is, if I don't decide to make a trophy out of him!"

Arthur scanned the opposite shore until he found the creature Hosea was describing. He'd brought it down in one clean shot, and it was every bit as majestic as he'd described. "What a kill!" he whistled in appreciation.

"Patience and a clear head pay off." Hosea laid a hand on Arthur's head. "Don't you forget it, my boy. Don't you forget it. Now, help me get this onto my horse!"