I'm on my school's fall break this week, so I've mostly been sprawled on my sofa finally finishing AC: Valhalla. Probably going to do another playthrough of RDR2 as soon as I'm done haha!

Chapter 43: Sheriff

Hosea woke up with a cough in his chest, just like he had for the last few months. He held a handkerchief up to his mouth, clearing his lungs. Colter was too cold for him, and this southern air was too thick and soupy. The Heartlands felt perfect, or as perfect as air could get for his old, struggling lungs.

Despite the humidity, this place was alright. He stretched and got up, looking around their new camp. He certainly had plans to fish off that pier, but maybe if they could find a boat, they could get deeper to the big fish. Maybe he could force Arthur to finally learn something, or get John to actually swim for once in his life. He was worried about Cornwall and his men finding them at Valentine, but he could make the most of this new location.

His eyes landed on Arthur's tent, the canvas blowing back in the wind as his son started to shift, though something didn't look quite right. Wait, was that Charles moving around, too?

Moving and rolling right off the cot.

"Charles?" Arthur said, sitting up, but Hosea was laughing.

Charles groaned from the ground. "I'm fine."

"I think you two need a bigger bed," Hosea called over to them.

"Shut up, old man!" Arthur said, sliding off the cot next to Charles. But he was unable to stifle his own laughter, and Charles joined in, too. Honestly, Hosea was surprised they hadn't both ended up on the ground sooner. Arthur's tiny cot was not built for two people.

Then, there was a shout from the other side. "And what is going on in there?" Dutch asked.

"Not what you think!" Arthur shouted back, rolling his eyes.

Hosea shook his head, and gave his son some privacy. "Good morning, Bill," he said, pouring himself a cup of coffee while Bill poked at his food on the table.

Bill lifted his head and glared at Hosea. "What do you want?"

"Just saying hello," Hosea replied, determined not to let Bill's sour mood ruin his day. "Everything alright?"

"Marston and Morgan just had to cause trouble in Valentine, didn't they?" Bill said, frowning at Arthur as the man wandered over for his own coffee.

"Hey, that wasn't me!" Arthur said, raising his hands in surrender.

"Well, whatever you did, we was going to rob the bank in Valentine!"

"Who?" Hosea asked.

"Me and Karen. And whoever else we decided would join us," Bill said.

"Oh, yes, I heard about that."

"Karen said this bank would be loaded after auction day," Bill said.

"Well, we ain't that far away. Just be careful if you go back to Valentine. There might still be law hanging around," Hosea said.

"Huh," Bill said thoughtfully. "There's still a lot to look into, but maybe if we wait until the next auction…"

"Between you and Karen, I'm sure you'll figure it out," Hosea said. Bill tended to react to things quickly instead of thinking, but Hosea learned that he would get there eventually.

Sometimes with a nudge in the right direction, but eventually.

At least Karen would pick good people to accompany them back to Valentine, if they decided it was worth the risk. Speaking of, where was she? Oh, drinking, at their poker table under the tree. Early in the morning. He hoped she was better at planning when sober.

"Mr… Matthews," she slurred.

"How are you, Karen?"

"Just dandy," she said, raising her beer bottle at Hosea.

"Just don't let Miss Grimshaw catch you drinking."

"Oh, I don't care about that old bag," Karen said.

"Well, okay then," said Hosea, continuing on his rounds. Isaac was next, chopping wood over by the lake. "How are you, son?"

"Good."

"You like the new camp?"

"Yeah." Isaac brought the axe down and split another log, and Hosea smiled. It still surprised him to see just how much Isaac had grown. Sometimes, he still thought of the small boy that Arthur brought back to camp all those years ago, clinging to his leg at one moment and chasing Copper around camp in the next. They were well past the days when Hosea could scoop Isaac up in his arms, though to be honest, those days had gone rather fast.

He left Isaac to his work, grabbing Silver Dollar to ride up the lake. Years ago, he'd come this way with Bessie, and wanted to reminisce alone for a moment. They hadn't stayed in the South for long. From what he remembered about the town of Rhodes, it had mostly been desolate due to the war. As annoyed as he was to be down here, maybe it would be for the best. They could actually lay low for once.

Unlike in Colter.

It was still a sore spot for him. Even though he and Dutch talked, and he knew Dutch and Annabelle had many similar talks, he was still annoyed about the Cornwall train robbery. It put an even larger target on their backs that they didn't need, pushed them further from the west, and now Dutch was starting to talk about leaving America entirely to solve their problems when they could have just waited!

Silver Dollar tossed his head and side stepped, annoyed at Hosea unintentionally pulling back on the reins. "Sorry, Silver," he said, breathing in deep. No, he wasn't going to let himself get annoyed at Dutch while on this ride. Besides, maybe he could swing over to Saint Denis and finally get rid of those bonds sometime.

He passed an old, crumbling stone wall and continued north. There was one house along the lake, and he wondered who lived there. It reminded him of Hamish's house up in the mountains, only larger. But that certainly was the life, wasn't it? Living right on the water, being able to fish whenever he wanted! Wherever they ended up in the future, they had to be next to a river or lake!

Though, safety was the priority. Safety, and then a lake.

And then he noticed the boats along the shore. That's just what he needed! "Well, I guess there's no excuse now. We'll get Arthur out here and make him a fisherman for sure!" he said to Silver Dollar. The horse didn't understand, instead leaning over for some grass.

He told Dutch about it when he got back. A peace offering for how he exploded after Dutch told him about Cornwall. After all, it wasn't entirely Dutch's fault that Cornwall found them. They really hadn't gone far enough after Blackwater, and focused too much on making money with that train job and some of the stagecoach robberies they had done. Hell, maybe they were recognized by someone in town!

The idea was planted, and now he just had to wait. And soon, he saw Dutch chatting with Arthur on the shoreline with a glance in his direction, so he packed his lures with a smile.

"Hey, old girl, come on down here! Why don't you show us the creek you've been pissing in," Dutch called from across camp, leading Arthur towards the horses. "Hey, you don't look too rosy, old friend. I thought this warmer weather would-"

"My days of looking good are long over, Dutch," Hosea said, brushing him off.

"Always dream crushing and bubble bursting, you. Come on, Hosea, let's go fishing. You, me, and Arthur. Just like old times."

"Alright, gentlemen, let me show you how it's done," Hosea said. He led the way out of camp again towards the main road, hiding his smile of success. Catching fish and Dutch required the same technique. Setting the bait and having patience.

"Why don't we just fish here? There's a whole lake of 'em," Arthur said.

"Because I need to get out for a bit, me and the old guard. Before there was any of them back there, there was us."

"Don't let Annabelle know you're excluding her."

"I don't think she'll mind. She wasn't feeling all too well this morning," Dutch said. "Stomach problems."

"That's too bad, but now we have a good excuse to give her some peace for a few hours," Hosea snickered. "But yes, I remember those days, just the three of us. The curious couple and their unruly son."

"It feels good here. You did well finding that spot, Arthur," Dutch continued.

"More Charles than me," Arthur said.

"Now, you don't have to give him all the credit just because you're together," Dutch said.

Arthur's face grew red. "Just because you and Anna can't keep quiet don't mean the rest of us are doing the same!"

"Hey!" Dutch said.

"He has a point, Dutch," Hosea said, enjoying picking on the other two just a little.

"Now, don't you two start ganging up on me," Dutch said. "We do need to be on the same side once in a while!"

"We're just teasing," Hosea started to say, but it was too late.

"When things are desperate, we have to stick with the plan," Dutch said. "Make enough money, then find somewhere where nobody'll find us, where we don't have to hide."

Couldn't they just fish? "Eh, like where?" Hosea said.

"I got some ideas hatching, but I need you with me, not against me. Both of you."

"We're with you, Dutch," Arthur said. "Trust me, I want to get somewhere safe."

"Still, we do need to make money. Keep a low profile, especially in the local town. After Valentine, I want everyone on best behavior here, no trouble! But start turning over the soil and the rocks, see what turns up."

So much for lying low. What did he expect was going to happen? "Dutch, we have got to be discreet," Hosea reminded him.

Dutch continued without hearing him. "Imagine what a slew of rich simpletons there must be down here. This is perfect for you, Hosea, you'll be able to play them like a fiddle."

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure," Hosea said honestly, "but-"

"No buts, not today!" Dutch declared. "We fish and we enjoy the day."

A conversation for later, then. After Dutch calmed down from the excitement of fishing and spending time together, then Hosea would approach him about lying low. Any sooner, and Dutch would either completely dismiss him or start an argument.

Hosea stared down the trail, lost in thought. Dutch wasn't the easiest man to talk with, but he felt like things had been simpler a few years ago. It didn't take nearly as much work to convince Dutch to at least hear him out.

A train whistle blew, bringing Hosea out of his thoughts. They were past the turnoff for the boats, but before he could say anything, Dutch said, "Looks like law up ahead. Play it cool."

Two of the Rhodes lawmen were driving five men in a prison wagon. Four were in rather normal attire, with work pants and practical shirts covered in the red clay dust common in Lemoyne. But one man was in a full suit and a fancy bow tie, his eyes brightening when he saw Hosea, Dutch, and Arthur coming up behind him.

"Hello, gentlemen," Trelawny said.

"Well, look what the cat drug in," Dutch said, his voice tinged with amusement.

"I seem to have gotten myself in a spot of bother," Trelawny said.

"Quiet back there," the sheriff said, banging on the top of the bars.

Dutch smiled. "Let's see if we can't sort this out."

And he rode straight up to the lawmen.

"How are you, boys?" Dutch said with a wave.

"Fine," the sheriff replied.

"This is quiet some country you have here."

"We like it well enough," the sheriff said, still uninterested in Dutch's charm.

"Hoagy Macintosh, at your service."

And that somehow got the sheriff to look up. "Leigh Gray. This is my deputy, Archibald Macgregor."

The train blew its whistle again and started rolling away as Dutch said, "It is good to meet you."

"You a Scot?"

Inside the prison wagon, some of the men were fiddling with the lock. Hosea kept his mouth shut.

"Partly," Dutch said, leaning in and building towards his joke. "The best part."

The sheriff and the deputy laughed. "Of course!"

"Now, tell me sir, what did the silly fancy fop back there do? Nothing too terrible I trust."

"He was accused of running a gold mining investment scam."

Hosea hid his smile. Classic Trelawny.

"Oh no, no, no, no, I'm sure he wasn't," Dutch said, shaking his head. "He is a magician, I know him. He's a fool, but he is not a bad feller. Now can we-"

The lock clicked, and the other men began to clamber out of the prison wagon.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you!" Trelawny called after them with fake concern, but the men were already jumping onto the train now rolling away towards Rhodes.

"Shit, the Anderson boys! I can't have more scandal," the sheriff said, twisting in his seat but making no move to get up. The deputy was the only one to move, hopping off the wagon and drawing his gun. Hosea raised an eyebrow at the scene, wondering what kind of idiots they'd stumbled onto now.

"Well, allow us to help, my friend," Dutch said. "Arthur, why don't you help the deputy catch that train?"

"Alright," Arthur said, guiding Boadicea over to the deputy… Archibald, that was his name. Boadicea was certainly fast enough to catch the train.

"Perhaps we can discuss the foolish magician?" Dutch asked the sheriff.

The sheriff was still flustered, looking between Dutch and the railroad tracks. "Uh, yes, yes I suppose. You sure he's just a magician?"

"Oh, I am sure. You can hold me to it," Dutch laughed.

"I guess we should head back to Rhodes. That's where Archibald will bring the Anderson boys, if your friend can catch up to them. Where are you from, sir?"

The almost-empty prison wagon rolled painfully slow down the trail, and Hosea let Silver Dollar aimlessly follow while he listened to and memorized Dutch's cover story. They were workers up north in a factory, until it got shut down. Lost their livelihood, then their homes. A group of them banded together and decided to head south, hearing such good things about the city of Saint Denis. They were taking a break near Rhodes after days of almost non-stop travel when they stumbled upon the sheriff himself.

"That is a tough situation," the sheriff said. He didn't seem entirely with it.

He hoped Arthur and Archibald would be back by the time they arrived in Rhodes, but they weren't there. Hosea waited outside while Dutch continued to chat with Sheriff Gray. Where was Arthur? He shouldn't have let Arthur take off after outlaws on his own!

But then, he saw Boadicea and another horse trotting down the road, Arthur annoyed and grumbling while Archibald prattled on about… something. Hosea wasn't paying attention, because he was looking over Arthur to make sure he was alright.

"Can you grab Anders off your horse and carry him in for me?" Archibald asked.

"Uh, the leg? Remember?" Arthur said.

"Oh. Right." Archibald huffed as he pulled Anderson off Boadicea's back himself. Arthur stayed in the saddle, rolling his eyes.

It was kind of odd, though. Hosea knew that Arthur could haul heavy weight no problem, and it forced him to give Arthur a second look. His son just waved him off with a glance in Archibald's direction that let Hosea know he'd hear the whole story later. "Hey fellers," Hosea said instead.

"Mr. Gray, we got him!"

"Very good," Sheriff Gray said.

"I told you Arthur would be helpful!" Dutch said. "The man has a passion for justice."

"That's wonderful."

"So, about my friend here," Dutch said, pointing at Trelawny.

"Your idiot friend is free to go," Sheriff Gray said, unlocking the wagon. "But no more trouble from you, partner."

"I promise you, this was all just a big misunderstanding," said Trelawny, giving the sheriff a little bow. "However, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart."

"I'll pretend to appreciate that," Sheriff Gray said before turning to Dutch. "Mr. Macintosh, it's been a real pleasure. The mostly good citizens of Rhodes, we welcome you."

Dutch shook the man's hand, and Hosea could see the wheels spinning in his head. "Well, we're just honored to be here."

"And make your friend behave. We got enough trouble from some of the residents. Old timers who've gone sadly to seed and lost their dignity."

"How terrible," Dutch said, before turning to leave.

"Come back and see us sometime soon," Sheriff Gray said, before turning to the kid sitting on the porch. "Now, Beau, these better just be nasty rumors. Were you seeing that wretched Penelope Braithwaite?"

Once they were out of earshot, Hosea said, "Are you alright, Arthur?"

"Oh, just fine. Me and ol' Archibald had a bit of a disagreement, that's all. Seems he thought that by giving him a ride I'd also jump onto the train for him."

"You didn't, did you?" Hosea said.

"Of course not! You know how long it's been. I'm not even sure if I can jump onto a moving train like that anymore. Archibald wasn't too keen on it, either."

Dutch roared with laughter. "Oh, sounds like lawmen alright! Perfectly happy to take credit for the work of bounty hunters and concerned citizens."

"And he weren't too happy when I lassoed that Anderson guy off the train. Apparently I could have killed him," Arthur said sarcastically. "How dare I deprive them of a poor fool to hang."

"Well, you've gotten a good look at this town," Trelawny said. "The people here are a bit desperate for entertainment."

"Where have you been?" Dutch asked him.

"Around."

"And where are you staying?"

"I'm renting. A caravan on the edge of town, behind the church. It's horrible, but no one comes looking. The whole town is trapped in this interminable feud between the two families. His lot, Grays, and Braithwaites."

"Interesting," Dutch said, and there was that spark again.

"Two old plantation houses and falling out over rebel gold and marrying cousins and not marrying, that sort of thing."

"I guess we can start poking around, see what we turn up," Dutch said.

"Dutch, we're supposed to be lying low," Hosea reminded him.

"Sure, but maybe we can have a little sport!"

"Lying low might not be a bad idea," Trelawny said. "There's talk of bounty hunters and Pinkerton agents, apparently there's talk of it in bars in the north and west for five hundred miles."

Hosea and Arthur exchanged a glance, but Dutch seemed to just brush it off. Once Trelawny left, Dutch was back on their new topic, assigning Arthur to the Gray's place and trying to give the Braithwaites to Hosea. Back to work, he supposed.

At least they did end their day with fishing.