Well, you got Arthur back and lost Dutch to the Pinkertons... I think that's a fair trade, right?

Chapter 54: Shady Belle

"Dutch?"

"Arthur, can you hear me?"

"What do we do?"

"You just let him take Dutch!"

"Pa!"

"Let them work, Isaac, please."

"What are we supposed to do?"

Susan and Hosea were checking Arthur's injuries. The little they could see was horrible. Cuts, bruises, burns… some fingers on his left hand looked swollen and out of place. His eyes were open but they weren't focusing on any of them. His breathing was shallow, barely a wheeze.

Annabelle stood up, letting Swanson into her place by Arthur's side. "Everyone shut up! And back up, okay? We'll figure this out, we-"

Oh, she stood up too quickly. Black spots entered her vision, and she started to sway. Hosea caught her arm, steadied her.

"We're going to do exactly what Dutch told us to do," Hosea said. "We're going move and find Jack. Then, we'll figure out how to save Dutch. I need folk out looking for a new camp. Any ideas?"

"There's an old plantation house near Saint Denis called Shady Belle," Lenny said. "It's where me and John got those guns from. The militia was hiding there."

"Alright, John and I can go check it out," Annabelle said. "Lenny, unless one of us tells you otherwise, lead the camp there once they are all packed."

"Anna, are you sure you're alright?" Hosea asked.

"I'm fine," she said.

Javier stepped forward. "I'll go with John. A few local militia won't be a problem for us."

Annabelle nodded, accepting the help. "Okay. Charles? You think you can track that wagon?"

Charles was still holding Isaac back. The boy sagged against Charles' arms. "Shouldn't be a problem," Charles said.

"Give them a few minutes and stay back," Hosea said. "We don't want them going after you or killing Dutch. We just want to know where they're taking him."

"It'll be Blackwater, won't it?" Sean asked.

"Not necessarily," Hosea replied. "There's a federal prison nearby, and Saint Denis is another possibility. Now John and Javier, get moving! The rest of you start packing up!"

There was a slight hesitation, then everyone scrambled around camp at once. Trunks were thrown open, tents came down. There was a lot of discussion and mumbling. Anna heard Micah grumble, "I can't believe he just gave himself up for Morgan," but she didn't want to deal with it.

"Charles, why don't you let Isaac over here?" Hosea said. Susan and Swanson decided the best thing for now was to keep Arthur comfortable. His skin burned with fever. Isaac was running over as soon as Charles loosened his arms, dropping down next to Arthur.

"Pa?"

Arthur's glazed eyes shifted, widened. "Isaac?"

"Can you hear me?" Isaac asked.

Arthur lifted his hand just inches off the ground and reached for his son. "That really you?"

Isaac caught his hand. "I'm here, Pa."

Arthur sighed, his eyes falling shut. "Clemens," he mumbled.

"What is it, son?" Hosea asked.

"Clemens… Point."

Hosea and Annabelle exchanged a worried look. "Arthur, honey," she said. "You're safe now. You hear me?"

"Don't hurt him."

"No one is going to hurt him," she said. "I promise. Everything is going to be okay."

Arthur was rapidly falling asleep again, or maybe just unconscious. Susan turned to the others and said, "Let's get him into the back of a wagon and start dealing with some of these injuries. Mr. Smith, before you go, help us carry him?"

Charles nodded and grabbed their stretcher. Once he and Bill got Arthur safely settled into the wagon, Charles leaned over him, whispered something in his ear, and kissed his forehead. Arthur didn't stir.

They got him back, though. Seeing Arthur dragged out of that prison wagon terrified her, but he was alive! Dutch made sure of that.

Oh, Dutch. He looked at her, and she knew his plan. It didn't feel real. He should be ordering the gang around and fussing over Arthur, but he didn't get that choice. It was his freedom or Arthur's life, so he chose Arthur. Just as she and Hosea would.

But the law wanted Dutch. Now, they had him.

Hosea gave her a hand into the wagon with Arthur. Their son let out a weak cough, trying to curl into himself. "There's some sort of illness in his lungs," said Hosea. "We'll need to watch it. Could just be a cold, or something worse like pneumonia."

"We're not losing him," Annabelle said. "We can fight pneumonia."

"He's always been strong," Hosea agreed. "Susan and Swanson won't let anything happen to him while we find this Bronte."

Lenny led the way to the old plantation house in the swamp. The walls were moldy and crumbling, the grounds overgrown and covered in the remnants of the militia's protective barriers, but it was well-hidden. "Good job, Lenny," Annabelle said.

"There are three bedrooms on the second floor," John said after he dumped the last. "I flipped the mattresses if you want to put Arthur up there."

"Good idea," Hosea said. "John, can you help Bill get him up there? And where's Isaac? Son, I know you want to spend time with your pa, but could you help unpack a bit? That will give us a chance to get your pa settled."

"Okay," Isaac said with a shaky nod. He went straight to the medical wagon. Good kid.

"Why don't you take that right up to the largest bedroom," Annabelle told Isaac.

John returned outside and stared at Hosea and Annabelle in anticipation. "Let's go into the city and see what we can find about this Bronte," Hosea said, patting his shoulder.

"Alright," Annabelle said, whistling for Leo.

"Anna, maybe you should rest," Hosea said.

"I can't rest yet," she said.

"Fine," Hosea said. "When we're in town, you can see a doctor."

"What? No!" she protested. "We have to find Jack!"

"John and I will start looking. You can join us once you see a doctor. I saw you get dizzy earlier. This has gone on long enough," Hosea said.

"I don't feel that bad."

"Then you can spend five minutes with a doctor before joining us. Hell, maybe he knows who this Bronte is," Hosea argued, and she relented.

"Fine. I'll give some idiot money to tell me he doesn't know what's wrong," she said. "I'll be down in a few minutes."

Seeing as she was going into a city, she decided to switch into a dress. Susan put her things in the small bedroom. Annabelle told Susan she didn't need a room, without Dutch there, but Susan insisted. The room was stuffed with Dutch's things: the fancy blankets he indulged in, the Evelyn Miller books, their gramophone. Dutch's clothes sat in a trunk next to her own. She avoided looking at it while she pulled out one of her nicer dresses and pulled it on. That proved difficult, though, as the dress refused to close.

"Come on, what is wrong with you?" she muttered, tugging on the buttons, before she gave up. She ripped off the dress and tried another, running into the same problem. She went for another, but then she paused. The realization grew slowly as she slid down against the wall.

She always had to buy pants a few sizes bigger to accommodate her hips, but they were always loose around her waist. She tried to justify it as simple weight gain, but that didn't make sense with how sick she'd been. And doing the math, it had been a while since she bled. The gang had been so busy, lately. Weeks had gone by, and she didn't even notice the slight weight gain, even though she could barely keep anything down.

Hosea came to check on her progress a few minutes later, crying softly on the floor. He slid down next to her.

"Hey, Anna, it's going to be okay," Hosea said. "We'll find a way to save Jack, get Arthur well, and go after Dutch. We will."

Annabelle sniffled, wiping away her tears. "I think I'm pregnant."

Hosea wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "You, uh, are you sure?"

She nodded. "We wanted to in Montana. That ranch land, remember? We thought that would be it, that we could settle down with a family. We were trying, and it wasn't happening. But I guess we stopped being careful."

"It's going to be alright. This family looks out for each other."

"I don't want to do this without him!"

"Anna-"

She kept sobbing. "We wanted to do this together. Raise a child together. Not like this! Not with Dutch in jail and our kids in danger and hurt and in this stupid plantation house in Lemoyne!"

Hosea pulled her closer and let her cry for a while. Weeks of searching for Arthur, finding Isaac injured and scared, losing Dutch… she needed this. Just a moment for herself.

"I need to be heading out with John," Hosea said. "You still want to see that doctor, or no?"

"Ain't like he can tell me more than I already know," Annabelle huffed. "I'd be better off talking to Abigail and Susan."

"Well, you do that," Hosea said, patting her shoulder and getting up.

"Hold on, I'm still going into town with you to find Jack!"

"No!" Hosea said. "You are going to rest. I saw you get dizzy, remember? And now you have a clue as to why."

"And I'm fine now!"

"You need rest," Hosea reminded her. "Babies take a lot of energy. You know Dutch would say the same thing."

"That's low, Hosea," she said. "And you know where I'd tell him to stuff it."

He smiled. "I know. But please listen. John and I can ask around the city while you rest, and if we need you, we'll come back and get you."

She finally relented. But once Hosea was gone, Anna slipped into Arthur's room. She could rest in the chair next to Arthur's bed and wait for Charles. Arthur was breathing, shallow with a slight wheeze, but at least he was alive and in their care.

Susan frowned. "I thought you were going into town?"

So, Annabelle had the same conversation with Susan. It had a very different reaction.

"You mean you went riding all over the country and got in those fights and you are pregnant?" Susan shouted.

"Oh, god," she said, her head falling forward onto Arthur's bed. "I put my baby in a gunfight."

"Twice," Susan said.

Annabelle groaned. "I didn't know."

Susan patted her on the shoulder. "I should have noticed. Abigail never got that sick, though, so I guess I thought it was something bad."

"I'm glad that slowed down," Annabelle said.

"As am I."

She pushed all her fears and uncertainties and sadness aside to focus on Arthur. And Isaac. "Where's Isaac?" she asked.

"With the boys," Susan said. "We wanted to change Arthur out of that union suit, and I didn't think he should see."

"How bad is it?"

Susan sniffled. "It ain't just bad. They tortured him. Probably the whole time. He hasn't been able to rest or heal at all! And now… I'm scared he won't wake up. That he just doesn't have the energy anymore."

"He recognized Isaac, though," Annabelle said.

"I know. And I heard what he said after," Susan said.

Annabelle narrowed her eyes at Susan, knowing exactly what she was referring to. Clemens Point. Arthur said the name of their camp and begged them not to hurt Isaac. Arthur was probably seeing that asshole Milton and lackey Ross, and the Pinkertons found the camp somehow. "You said it yourself. They tortured him for weeks. How long did you expect him to hold out? Arthur would never willingly betray this gang."

"Anna-"

"What? You want to drag him into the middle of camp and shoot him?"

"No! Of course not!" Susan said. "I'd never do that to Arthur. I know he's loyal. But there might be some others who think different."

Annabelle steadied herself and asked, "Do they know?"

"I'm not sure. It won't be hard for them to put it together, though."

"This doesn't leave the room, then," Annabelle said. "And we keep one of us with him at all times."

"I agree," Susan said.

They sat together for a while longer, as the shadows in the room grew longer and Arthur's condition didn't change. She didn't want to imagine the possibility that they could still lose him.

None of this was fair.

She wished she could kill Colm again. Kill him and stop Arthur from running into those O'Driscolls. Get out of the south before the Braithwaites decide to take their revenge on a child.

Most of all, she wanted Arthur's breathing to be easier and to talk to him. To tell him that he's safe, and never let him get hurt again.

There was a knock on the door. Charles leaned in and asked, "Can I talk to you?"

Charles nervously glanced between her and Arthur. Charles normally hid his stress well, but they asked too much of him lately. She'd make sure he got a break and a chance to process over the next few days.

"Of course, come in, Charles," she said. "I'm glad you made it back in one piece."

"I tracked Dutch to the docks in Saint Denis," Charles said. "I couldn't get close to rescue him. There were too many. I'm sorry."

"That's okay," Annabelle said, reaching her hand out to him. Charles took it, holding on tight. "Charles, we didn't expect you to do that by yourself. So, they got on a boat?"

"Yeah. It went to Sisika," Charles said. "How is he?"

Annabelle sighed. "No change, but at least now he has us to care for him. Why don't you rest?"

"I-"

"There's a cot in the corner."

"I'm fine."

"You can use my room if you want to change into something more comfortable. Arthur is in good hands, and you've done a lot these past few- well, since you joined us, really."

Charles hesitated, then relented. He dumped his gear in the corner near the cot, then disappeared down the hall.

Annabelle squeezed Arthur's good hand and said, "Charles is back. You're family is almost back together, and we'll get the rest soon. Okay? Hosea and John will find Jack, and then Dutch will be back before you know it."

And they had one more on the way. Annabelle still barely believed it.

A small sound made its way out out Arthur's throat.

"Honey?"

Arthur swallowed, then settled again.

Charles finally went to sleep when he returned to Arthur's room, and Susan left to check on the camp's unpacking progress. Pearson brought her a bowl of stew with apologies for taking so long to get it started, which she assured him was fine. Only then did she notice how dark it got outside.

Hosea knocked on the door and stuck his head in. "You didn't sleep, did you?" he said.

"Neither have you."

"I know."

"Jack?"

"We're still working on it. But John found a doctor for Arthur."

"Really?" she asked, sitting up.

"Yes, Doctor Renaud. John trusts him. He met him before in Rhodes, and ran into him again in town. He's just getting his supplies from his wagon."

John leaned in a few minutes later and said, "You ready?"

"We are. Let him in," Hosea said.

John led Doctor Renaud into the room and directed him to Arthur. "This is Arthur?" Renaud asked.

"Yes. Thank you for coming," Hosea said.

Doctor Renaud immediately pulled out a stethoscope and listened to Arthur's lungs with a frown. Arthur had been wheezing all day, struggling for each breath like it could be his last and sweating with fever.

"You were right to bring me here," Doctor Renaud said after a moment, pulling back his stethoscope and digging through his bag. "Now, you said there were other injuries?"

"Nothing that seems severe by itself," Annabelle said. "Just all together…"

"And the leg? Is that recent?"

"No. It's been ten years since it was amputated," Hosea said.

"And you don't know what exactly was done to him? John wasn't clear."

"No, we don't," Hosea said. "Just that those Pinkertons had him for weeks."

"It's most likely pneumonia. I have some tonics to help with his fever, and maybe ease his lungs. If you don't mind, I'd like to monitor him for a while."

"Of course," Annabelle said. "If you need an extra pair of hands-"

Doctor Renaud stared up at her in surprise. "Now, no offense, but you two look awful. I'm not sure you want to be staying up all night with him."

"Swanson volunteered to help tonight," Hosea quickly said. "He talked to me downstairs just before we came up. Tilly said she'd watch Arthur, as well."

Hosea and Annabelle reluctantly stepped out into the hall, relieved that Arthur was in good hands. "Any news about Bronte?" Annabelle finally asked.

Hosea sighed. "John and I spent most of the day looking in the wrong places. Seedy bars, the slums. Turns out we should have gone to the Bastille Saloon, but by the time we got there, the few people left were too drunk to understand us. We'll try again tomorrow."

"How's John taking it?"

"Not well, though what would you expect?" Hosea said.

"Shit, I haven't talked to Abigail all day!" Annabelle said.

"I saw Karen with her when we got back. She's being looked after," Hosea said. "But there's something else I need to warn you about. I heard some folk whispering downstairs. Okay, not just folk. Micah. Suggesting that Arthur told the Pinkertons how to find us and is the reason Dutch is gone."

She sighed. "I was worried about that. Do people believe him?"

"Yes, but not in the way Micah does. Susan was quick to remind him that traitors willingly give up information. Everyone saw Arthur. They know if Arthur talked, it was anything but willing."

"Is Micah going to be a problem?" she asked.

"I don't know," said Hosea. He looked around the second floor landing to make sure no one was within earshot, except for Abigail and John in their room. "But I think our best option is cut him loose as soon as we're ready to move camp. That way we won't have to worry about him talking or trying for revenge. As soon as we find Jack and have a plan for rescuing Dutch, we should start looking for a new place."

"Good."

"Now, let's sleep."

"Okay. I'm sure we can find a spare cot, and you sleep in my room."

Once Tilly and Swanson slipped into Arthur's room, Annabelle and Hosea retreated to her room. She wasn't sure how she could go to sleep after the day they had, but it happened.