Chapter 4

Family and Loyalty

"Alright, let's get Sean." Javier gave a low sigh. Arthur, for his part, groaned ever so slightly himself. Rising up from where he had been huddled behind a stack of wooden crates. The ground nearby and surrounding them was laden with the bodies of Skelding's boys. All of them shot dead, pools of blood forming underneath their still forms. The whole of the woods lacking for any sound of birds. All of them driven off by the little goddamn war Arthur, Charles and Javier had just fought with the bounty hunting gang, for lack of better description of the lot.

"Alright, let's get you down." Arthur intoned, loosing a breath from his nostrils. Bringing his carbine repeater up, he fired a single and echoing shot. The bullet flew out, and severed the wire that hung the Irish bastard from the tree. Upside down at that.

Sean fell with a huff and grunt. Rolling onto his back and pushing up into a still ankle-bound sit along the grass. Arthur threw the strap back over his shoulder, unsheathing his knife quickly after, as he Charles and Javier approached their now freed companion.

"Come on now." Arthur began as he neared. Bending down and cutting through the binds on Sean's ankles as the Irish fool stared at him. His eyes taking a second to seemingly realize who was cutting him loose. Though, in the second after a familiar glint formed in his eyes and a smirk along his face.

"You know, you're a lot less ugly from that other angle, Arthur." Sean began with the hint of a snicker in his voice.

"Come on." Arthur gripped Sean's arm, and hoisted him up to a stand.

"Do I get a hug Arthur? A warm embrace, for a lost brother now found?" Sean began, but Arthur simply chuckled, patting Sean's right shoulder and shaking his head.

"You know...nothing means more to me than this gang." Arthur began. "The bond we share, it's the most real thing to me. I would kill for it, I would happily die for it! But, in spite of all that, I would have easily left you here to rot if Charles hadn't stopped me." Arthur accentuated with a lazy wave to the grass beneath him. Sean for his part staring at Arthur for just a second. Eyes appraising Arthur's before his smirk merely broadened.

"I don't believe a word of that Arthur!"

"Get him out of here!"

"You're a great man, Arthur Morgan!" Sean began as Arthur shoved him closer to Javier. "The kind a young whippersnapper can really admire."

"Oh, shut up." Arthur groaned. Turning his face down, even as the thinnest of smirks crossed his features. "Right, we should split up. Javier, will you escort Mr. MacGuire back to camp. Charles," Arthur turned to the other man. "Best you ride separately. Oh!" Arthur began with a start. "Also, you two, I have some business in need of discussion when we have the time."

"Now?" Javier asked.

"Nah, not now. Now we need to get this fool out of harm's way. Royal Irish princess in need of saving as he is." Arthur scoffed, motioning his hand to Sean who threw his arms out.

"Me?! Saving?! Ah, you boys came at the right time, all it was! I was readying to break free! Just waiting for me best moment."

"Shut up, please!" Arthur insisted. "Mr. Escuella I'd be much obliged."

"Thanks. Leave me with him." Javier chortled lowly.

"Now wait," Sean began even as Javier whistled for his horse and pushed the Irish fool away from Arthur. "What work?! The kind that needs ole' Sean MacGuire at the hand is it?!"

"You've been free all of five minutes." Charles retorted on behalf of Arthur. "Let's make it back to camp before you insert yourself where you're not wanted."

"Ah! 'Course! You 'tree cut me loose, and already you're cutting me out of deals! Figures."

"Go on, boy before you make me angry." Arthur shook his head, scratching at the back of his neck lightly as Charles broke into a jog for Taima.

"What about you?" Javier paused and asked as Arthur swept the camp littered with corpses.

"I'm gonna see what's worth taking here. I'll meet you back there as soon as I can."

"Alright. And, this job?"

"Well I'll give more details later, but…" Arthur shrugged. "Me and Hosea may have come across a nice bit of money involving them Italian fellers."

"From the saloon?"

"Yep." Arthur nodded simply. Javier humming thoughtfully.

"Well, alright then." Was all he said and made for his own horse, Boaz. Where Sean had already sat 'hisself. "Okay, come on!" Javier idly announced.

"Have I got stories for you." Sean began. Much to Javier's immediate annoyance.

"Yeah, I can't wait."

"I imagine you all missed me a lot, but fear not, the joy's back in your lives now!" Sean kept on yammering. Javier and Charles heading off, leaving Arthur to shake his head at the Irish bastard. Even if deep down he could admit he was happy the fool was alright. Well, beyond his pride that was. Nevertheless, Arthur took a long draw of breath through his nose. The tinge of metal in the air by the dead bodies around. A long since accustomed to sight for himself. He whistled with his fingers placed to his mouth. Allowing for Arminius to whinny and make his way over. The big Ardennes had been more than steady and accommodating since they had left Valentine. He was a big boy. Probably would never be as fast as The Count, but Arthur liked him. Smiling as the big brute on the outside, good feller on the inside rounded over a hill leading back east and came to a stop beside Arthur.

"Alright boy, give me a second here." Arthur cooed, patting the horse's hide idly. Before he made his way over to the nearest body. "Alright...let's see what ya' got…"

"So, this is the place huh?" Carlos announced mostly to himself.

"Sure is, sir." Thomas nodded beside him. Though leaving plenty of room between them Ruggero was back in Valentine sending and receiving messages with the assorted ilk and friends they had back in Saint Denis over this and that. Meanwhile, Carlos found himself a bit further west off on a fairly decent plot of land with this sickly fellow.

"Mr. Magliano, my wife, Edith." Thomas introduced with a low rasp to his fluid riddled lungs. Both Carlos and the sick man approached the simple enough woman. She greeted Carlos with a thin smile. Clearly wary of him, and knowing, or assuming, the troubles they were in Carlos could understand why. She wore a simple long gray dress tied close to her body. Along with an apron of sorts along top of it. A bit worse for ware and dirty, but what could one expect for a family like this?

"How do you do?" Carlos smiled, reaching his hand out. Which Edith took easily enough.

"Fire, sir. Thomas has told me about you and your...offer."

"Ah. You must doubt my err…" Carlos tilted his head back and forth searching for the word. "Sincerity?"

"Something of the like, perhaps, sir." Edith evenly admitted, and Carlos respected that.

"Edith…" Thomas whined through his heaving lungs. "This feller is our guest." He intoned weakly, and Edith eyed her husband sadly, heavily as it were. Carlos for his part waved Thomas down. Striking a continued smile along his face.

"No need to worry on my behalf, Mr. Downes. Your wife is a smart woman to not trust a man with such an offer on the face of things. It's simply good business to be...well careful." Carlos offered. To which Edith seemed to relax ever so slightly. Appreciating; at least Carlos assumed so, his amenable manner with her sickly husband.

"Yes...you're right." Thomas agreed. Clearly lacking much fight in him for anything these days. "Now, Mr. Magliano...as we discussed the other day, this house, and the property are indebted."

"Yes, we did." Carlos nodded. Edith sighing as she watched Carlos slowly pace away from the stoop the three had found themselves on. Carlos moving back to appraise the overall structure. A hum loosening from his throat as he did.

"What's the interest? Bastardi…" (Bastards.) - Carlos intoned.

"We...well the rate is twen...twent-" Thomas fell into a nasty spasm and began hacking something fierce. Carlos glanced at him sideways, but didn't say anything. Edith, rather came to his side and motioned him to sit along the stoop.

"Thomas, sit."

"I...I...alright." The sick man wheezed with a few nods.

"Twenty percent, mister." Edith answered for Thomas. "The bank claimed the loan wasn't made with a well known or worthy debtor. Our credit means nothing so we got one of their less agreeable interest rates."

"Hmm." Carlos nodded. Eyes narrowing angrily, but he restrained himself. Edith, for her part, averted her own gaze. First to Thomas, then off to nowhere in particular. Carlos watched as her expression soured some, and Carlos couldn't quite place it. In fact he followed where her eyes went off. South it seemed. Off beyond the drop off on the other side of the main road leading up to the Downes Ranch. She wasn't looking off at nothing...well not consciously.

"Who else you folks owe money too, and don't be coy with me, sir." Carlos pointed to Thomas who turned to him feebly. "I can read it on your face, and your wife's. The bank is raking you over the coals, as it goes. But, them ain't the only ones, are they?" Carlos intuited stepping nearer to Edith. The woman sighing as a mixture of anger and regret boiled in her eyes.

"My husband took a loan from a nasty little man."

"Edith-"

"Thomas!" She seethed glancing over at him. Clearly he was embarrassed by the whole affair. "If you want to try and dig us out of this hole...if we want to dig ourselves out of this hole we best start being honest." She turned back to Carlos. "Seeing as we may have a solution...and we're not fools being toyed with even further."

"No such thing, ma'am." Carlos assured. "I just need to know what the overall debt is? A little man you say?" Carlos added with a quizzical drawl to his voice. "A loan shark huh?"

"Best as I know him to be, yes. A German feller, or some sort of European. Leopold Strauss he said his name was."

"Uh huh." Carlos scoffed, but didn't state to what caused him to aloud. "What's his interest rate?"

"Thirty." Thomas feebly added.

"Thirty goddamn percent…" Carlos smacked his teeth. Again scoffing and pressing his hands to his hips. "Madre di Dio." (Mother of God.) - Carlos shook his head. Edith, winced at his slip into Italian. Must've been from the less than kindly pronouncement of the term 'European' she had used. Though Carlos made no mention nor intended to, of it. Perhaps she thought he was Mexican? Didn't matter, regardless.

"By the look of this place I don't think you've had a crop yield good enough to make any sort of real repayment of the loans? Let alone, the interest."

"Bad year." Thomas nodded with a wheeze. "I've tilled the soil, and tried planting a quick crop of...well this and that. Even have offered to stable horses in the barn. Sold all the cattle already."

"I see." Carlos intoned. "What do you lot owe the bank?" He asked both, but turned more to Edith. She was clearly more willing to be bluntly honest with him.

"The loan was for two hundred and fifty. The overall debt is somewhere around three hundred and twenty." Behind her, Carlos could hear Thomas groan. Sickness, and foolishness having ruined him. Beaten him down.

"This German?"

"Fifty dollars. But, he says; at least when last I spoke with him, that we owe seventy five or so."

"Okay, we'll round up." Carlos shrugged. "Four hundred dollars for repayment of the bank and this loan shark coc...feller." Carlos threw an apologetic smile to Edith. Though she seemed unfazed by his crassness. "That, and purchase of this property to you folks…" Carlos turned back and apprised the land some more. Though, honestly, he didn't have a clue what to do with it. Not now anyways. But, with his expansion, and with the moves being made across not only the state of Lemoyne but the south as a whole, it couldn't hurt to have a little plot of land here closer to his home state? He could see himself having something built here. Close to a small town like Valentine, a train station? It could be useful. Maybe, not as a farm or ranch, but something else...he was still thinking about it. And, he'd have plenty of time to think about it, if he bought it. Which...well he was going to. He felt bad for these poor bastards. And, oh...how he enjoyed screwing over loan sharks of the unseemly sort.

"How about this," Carlos began. "I'll give you folks the money to repay your bank loans. Me, and Mr. Downes here will go to the bank and pay them off. Meanwhile we officiate the transfer of your property from yourself to me."

"And how much exactly are we selling our home for, sir?" Edith wondered with the barest hint of harshness to her voice.

"This is a decent plot of land. I don't hold it against you folks. Life has a way of...strangling people." Carlos intoned. "Let's say I cover the full debt, four hundred. Add another six and that's an easy and round thousand dollars. We pay the debts, and you keep whatever is left over. Which should be at least six hundred."

"Six hundred?" Thomas wheezed. A tinge of incredulity to him as he did. Six hundred didn't mean a whole lot to Carlos, but for folk like these, it was more than enough to move, buy a smaller home, or something of the kind and start over. As long as Mr. Downes didn't make a fool of himself again.

"That's rather generous for us, sir." Edith admitted. Her eyes betraying her tone. Showing the desperation for such a relief. Carlos for his part simply shrugged.

"Like I said to your husband; I'm not a bastard trying to rob you folks. Six hundred is pretty, and can get you lots of places, but it ain't country club levels of cash. But, if you want it I'm offering." Carlos assured. Watching as Edith looked to say something. Turning back to Thomas and stopping herself before she did. The sickly feller tilting his head in unspoken communication between himself and his wife. Carlos turned and looked the overall ranch over again. Appreciating the view it had on the countryside if nothing else. He was far more a city boy, but there was something about the land. Even if he didn't like the people in these parts.

"Can…" Edith began. Catching Carlos' attention once again. "Can me and my husband have some time to talk it over?"

"Sure." Carlos shrugged. "When's the next interest payment due?" He asked Thomas.

"Friday."

"Hmm, two days. Alright, get back to me before then at least." Carlos noted with a lazy wag of his finger as he began back-stepping from the property. "The last thing I want to do is be forced to pay them banking bastards a cent more than what I have to."

"Just a day then." Edith offered for Thomas.

"That works for me. I'll see you folks Friday morning. Oh," Carlos continued. "And, do remember what I said about vultures, Mr. Downes." He warned, for their sake. Turning and making his way down the path from the ranch for the walk back to Valentine.

The Downes couple falling into unheard and hushed conversation as Carlos retreated from sight.

"And you think there's real money here, Hosea?" Dutch asked probably for the third or fourth time. A cigar in his right hand as he Hosea and John sat at the little wooden table closest the horses in camp.

"As far as I could see, yes. Same as I said before, Dutch." Hosea nodded.

"I'm just making sure."

"It's as good an opportunity as we've gotten so far to start making money that don't require us robbing an actual train."

"Just a train of coaches." John added with the barest hint of sarcasm to his scratchy voice.

"Well...yes there is that." Hosea admitted. "But, these fellers certainly seemed flushed with cash. Showed it to me and Arthur. More than that though they knew about us."

"Everyone seems to these days." Dutch absently added taking a puff of his cigar.

"Yes. Probably from all the noise we've been making."

"Hosea-"

"No." Hosea cut Dutch off. "I've said what I've said. But, in this case I think we can begin to make up for our Blackwater losses without garnering too much attention."

"And just how exactly you figure that, Hosea?" John wondered from Hosea's right. "I mean...we're planning to rob a train of coaches from the sound of it. You've said they got security, some money and other valuables, which are ours to take. That and they mean to pay each man five hundred damn dollars?! This sounds too good to be true. Not just that, but the law of whatever sort will see a bunch of coaches being robbed and immediately think of us."

"Not necessarily." Hosea countered as Dutch leaned into the table.

"How do you mean?"

"This country is flush with gangs like ours still. So it seems anyways. There's talk of some strange family up in the mountains that rob coaches. Not to mention another gang that roam the hills to the east of us. Some manner of hillbilly inbred stock of some nature. Plus, you've got the O'Driscolls setting up camp all over the Heartlands." Hosea kept on. "To me, and to anyone who asks any real questions, this will be...well just one of them things! It certainly wouldn't be the first nor the last stagecoach to be robbed in these parts. Even recently. Plus, with their security; as our two Italian friends told us about, these folk are already assuming they're running through dangerous country." As Hosea went on Dutch rubbed his free hand along the underside of his chin. Clearly his mind working through the same details as Hosea. John for his part listened. Thinking it all sounded well enough, he guessed. But, he weren't quite as sure as Hosea was. But, when he and Dutch had something on their minds, goddamn you if you thought you could get in their way. He already knew where this was headed.

"Hmm…" Dutch hummed. "You have a point."

"Look," Hosea leaned in now. "These fellers, they have some business going on besides us. That much is clear. Some manner of feud between city types."

"Oh how I love city gangs." Dutch sarcastically drawled.

"Of course." Hosea chuckled lightly. "They got the money, and the feller who did the most of the talking, Carlos or what have ya', he seemed well...not so much as desperate, as looking for those as can get his job done. He heard you, Trelawny, Charles, Javier, Bill and Arthur outside the General Store the other day."

"Yes, you've said as much." Dutch grumbled. A hint of embarrassment to him. "I hadn't known anyone was listening Hosea."

"Well...it's in the past, but we should be a little more careful with such impromptu meetings."

"Sounds like we got lucky is all." John added with a scoff.

"And maybe we've gotten a little more than lucky that it were these rich fellers who heard you." Hosea motioned his hands up before laying them back along the table. "They know about our bounties, but they didn't seem to care. If they were in need of money like that as the government is promising for our capture then they'd certainly have us in their sights. But, with how they was talking about Unions, Labor and all manner of such...I think these fellers are more than rich. More than capable of paying out what it is they promised. And, this job means a lot to them. On account of them contracts." Hosea reiterated. His voice carrying a sense of finality as he had explained as much essentially before and over again.

"Arthur's on board?" Dutch asked, though he already knew.

"Yes. Well, he was skeptical too, but he's on board, yes. That's why he went off to tend to the Sean business now rather than later. We'd need a few more men to get as much possible from these Italian fellers, and seeing as Micah has stolen poor Lenny from us...still, we'd need Javier and Charles. Along with you John." Hosea added turning to the man.

"I don't know." John shrugged.

"Well, from what Hosea's saying it sounds like we can certainly hit the train. Even if these well dressed Italian fellers don't have the money to pay after, this coach train could have a decent take on it."

"Fair point, but I've seen the money. Me and Arthur think it's a good score. And, considering our last job wasn't able to be acted upon back in Blackwater...I would hope my opinion of the matter would hold some water." Hosea pointedly looked between both men. Dutch averted his eyes and gruffly sighed. While John motioned his hands up in surrender.

Sure, he hadn't been the one pushing Dutch to go after that ferry. That was all Micah. But...unlike Arthur, John had gone along with the job. Hoping to come out rich at the end of it just the same. He saw that girl's face come to mind. Dutch shooting her. Micah goading. It made his lips twitch in distaste, but he hid it, best as he could.

"Alright." John relented. "If you think it's a good score, Hosea. I'll go along."

"Good. I'd like it if you were on this, John, so...good." Hosea nodded, turning to Dutch. "Dutch?"

"Hmm...well, if you say there's money here, brother, then I'm behind you. Arthur will lead this?"

"I think that's best. He was part of the deal with them two fellers, and I think he'd know how to play it with whatever kind of security they'd be dealing with. Plus, Charles, and Javier, neither of them tend to lose their cool in a bind."

"In that we can agree." Dutch chortled lightly. Pushing up to a stand followed by the two other men. "Okay. Let's hope we make a little money on this little foray into Union politics."

"Here's hoping." John agreed just as they all heard the clomping of horse hooves. All turned to see the arrival of a few familiar faces.

"Oye!" Javier announced as he road Boaz forward. "We're back. And with-"

"Ah, me friends!" Sean began loudly as he jumped from the back of Boaz. "It's so good to be home! Have ya's missed...ah, Hosea, Dutch, and Marston! Haha, you 'tree been waiting for me to come home, 'aven't 'ya!"

"Dear God." John grumbled as Sean was blissfully returned to them. Him and his yammering mouth. Though Dutch for his part loosed a hearty laugh.

"Oh it is good to see you, son! I see you've been found and brought back with just a few bruises and scratches."

"'Noting a few bounty hunters could do to ole' Sean MacGuire I couldn't handle, Dutch!" Sean cackled as both Dutch and Hosea welcomed the Irish son of a bitch home. Javier let Boaz free to rejoin the horses and cast John a knowing roll of his dark eyes.

"Did you have to save him?" John chuckled as he passed Javier.

"Don't look at me! It was Charles and Arthur's idea."

"I'm sure." John shook his head. Leaving the group as they all chattered about this and that. Making for his tent to rifle through some of his things. If he were to go on a job then he'd need some better clothes and his guns, of course.

"John!"

"Oh, not now…" He grumbled as he heard her damn voice calling him from who the hell knew where in camp. John ignored her as best he could. Continuing to rifle through his things. Maybe they weren't heading out tonight; Hosea hadn't been clear on that part, but he just wanted his things ready.

"John! Hey, John I…" Abigail was stood in the tent entrance behind him as he glanced over his shoulder back at her where he knelt.

"What, Abigail?"

"What are you doing?"

"What's it look like?" John shot back as she stepped forward in her usual aggressive manner.

"It looks like you're planning on working!"

"And?! If I am? What's it to you?" John seethed. Turning back to his stuff and ignoring her presence as best he could.

"You ain't completely healed up yet, John! You get goddamn well eaten half to death by wolves, now you wanna head out robbin'?!"

"I've been on my ass for weeks now, Abigail. There's work needs doing and...and this camp needs money."

"Who says you've got to be the one to earn it?!" She snapped. "Plenty of other fools 'round here could be doing otherwise than sitting and...and doing nothing!"

"I don't see you earning a goddamn thing!" John stood up and closed the distance between them. "Stop pestering me for every little goddamn thing, and leave me alone woman!"

"I...you…" Her cheeks turned red hot, and she began sputtering. Her jaw tightening as she poked her finger to John's chest. "You're pathetic! Totally pathetic! Go on and get yourself killed for all I...for all the boy cares!"

"Whatever!" John called as she stormed off from out of the tent. Sighing as she left earshot. Running a hand along the back of his neck. "Goddammit…" John grumbled. Knowing that probably had been a bit harsh.

"She drives me insane...absolutely insane." He intoned to himself. Returning to looking through his things. Doing his best to forget about Abigail Roberts.

"Here we are, boy. Home sweet home. I guess." Arthur chuckled lowly, patting Arminius along his neck. The big horse whirled his head, Arthur took it as a good sign as he led him to the hitching post. "We're gonna tie you up. Just for now, boy. Don't need you getting scared and taking off." Arthur cooed before jumping off Arminius' back with a plop to the dirt. Grabbing the reins and quickly tying them around the post. Arthur made sure to yank it once or twice just as a test. Figuring it was fine against anything other than the horse going full feral in fear or something.

"Once you get accustomed, I'll let you go visit the others, 'kay boy?" Arthur smiled. Pulling a wild carrot he had found out from his satchel and letting Arminius eat it from his hands. The big feller was gentle. Once he got to know you. Arthur knew he had made the right choice with him.

"Good boy." He pat him a final time and allowed his hand to slide off. Turning to the camp as he heard commotion near the back. Night was quickly coming upon them. So, Arthur made his way through the assortment of tables, tents and so forth before he came to a stop just beside Dutch's tent. Watching Sean stand atop a crate. Already dressed up in his usual gray getup and making some kind of speech or another.

"Dear God…" Arthur chuckled. Shaking his head.

"Arthur! Oh, Arthur! There you are." He turned, seeing Dutch, minus his black coat, approaching him.

"Dutch." Arthur nodded. "You seem in a good mood."

"I am, son. I am." Dutch grinned. "Let's have some fun tonight! Let's enjoy ourselves."

"We having a party?"

"Maybe, just a little one."

"Great." Arthur shrugged happily enough. Turning as Sean was telling Ms. Grimshaw something or another about whipping the girls into line. "Damn fool."

"Arthur!" Well, he sure were popular. Arthur had just meandered his way to Pearson's wagon for a beer when he heard John calling him. He turned and saw the newly scarred 'brother' of old approach.

"Hey." Arthur greeted.

"Hey. Hosea told me and Dutch about that job you got lined up by some Italian fellers."

"He did, did he?"

"Yep." John simply intonated. "You sure about this? It sounds awfully too good to be true. After that ferry job I don't want to believe nothing nobody says about jobs that pay well, and don't need much work."

"Well I don't know about not working that much." Arthur offered uncorking the beer bottle. "Them fellers mentioned the security. Also told me and Hosea we could deal with them as we see fit. I imagine Hosea wouldn't want us to go in guns first and kill the lot of 'em. But...well...you know how these things usually go."

"I don't doubt it." John nodded. "So, you think there's money here?"

"From the look of things I'd say there is. These two...they were nice enough. Helped Tilly from a pinch she gotten into when we were in town."

"Hosea mentioned something about that. Didn't go into details."

"Well, not much to say. I still need to ask her about it myself. Though," Arthur waved his bottle at the gathered camp members all beginning to hoot, holler and joke. "Not tonight clearly. Everyone's here for a good time."

"No doubt." John chuckled hoarsely.

"Yeah well...I think they'll pay. Them fellers have business interests involved here. Way the one feller was talking...I think he's got a lot more going on than all this Labor business."

"Gang feuds."

"Sure." Arthur shrugged. "Not like we much better. With the O'Driscoll crap going on all the goddamn time."

"That's more Dutch's business." John countered, but Arthur grumbled his disagreement. Idly scratching at the underside of his chin.

"Not entirely. Them two turning on one another may be why we fight all the time, us and them. But, you and I and anyone whose been with us long enough have done their fair share of O'Driscoll killing. Not to mention all them scores we've been robbing off Colm for...well," Arthur scoffed a laugh. "Years now."

"Well...you're right there. Anyways…" John trailed off. "Just know I'm in. You talked with Charles and Javier yet?"

"Nah. I'll fill 'em in, in the morning. Let's all of us have a decent night and celebrate this fool's return." Arthur pointed off to Sean as he stepped from off his crate. Yelling something Arthur's way, which he promptly ignored with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"You got it." John agreed. Turning and making his way towards the main campfire. Sean making his way to the round table closest Pearson's cart where Karen, Uncle and Javier were sat. Javier with his guitar started strumming a familiar tune.

"Ah hell." Arthur grinned to himself as he took a sip of his beer. "The Louisville Maid?!"

"Come join us Arthur!" Uncle called as Karen began belting through the prominent slur she already had. Arthur grumbled, trying to ignore Uncle as the old man returned his own voice to the chorus of Karen and Sean.

"Well...why not?!" Arthur cackled to himself. Bringing his beer and beginning to hum the tune.

After all...he was happy Sean was back. Goddamn fool he was...is!

"How go things?" Carlos asked, plopping himself down beside Ruggero on that same bench on the outside of the hotel.

"You just getting back from your charity case?"

"Anytime I inject myself between some poor bastard and a loan shark I feel good." Carlos shrugged. "Besides, ain't had a proper Rent Day in a few weeks. Consider my itch slightly scratched."

"Please, don't involve me with any talk of any itch whatever have you, fratello." (Brother.) - Ruggero shook his head. Leaning back into the bench as the fading light shone as a sliver in the western skies.

"Anyway, Mendoza says things are fine. Angelo hasn't made any moves despite your being gone for the extended time."

"I'd figure he'd make a move with you gone alongside me."

"Maybe so, but Niccolò is still there. Angelo knows that crazy bastard is on the prowl. In fact," Ruggero laughed. "Without you there to pull his leash Angelo may be shitting his pants!"

"One can hope." Carlos chuckled softly. Pulling his stack of cash from his wallet and daring to count the bills out in the open. "Two-thousand five-hundred for our cowboy friends should they bring back the contracts...another thousand for personal business."

"Gesù Cristo…" (Jesus Christ…) - Ruggero smacked his teeth. Leaning forward as he did. "You're paying them a thousand dollars for what I am sure is a...magnificent plot of land?"

"I'm paying the bank four-hundred. They get six." Carlos corrected with a dullness to his voice. "That leaves us a cool fifteen-hundred. More than enough for any secondary matters we may have."

"I understand why you do what you do." Ruggero began. "But, out here? Word can travel among these country types. For all their 'keeping to one's self' bullshit they put on, they gossip as much as any city-folk."

"That's why I have you." Carlos pat his shoulder with a smug smirk to his face. "My gargantuan defender! The Colossus of Rhodes reborn in human dimension!"

"Dacci una pausa." (Give it a rest.) - Ruggero chortled. Unable to stop the smile that formed along his face from doing so. "Just be careful."

"I am careful."

"Most of the time." Ruggero waved his left hand. "The quickness with these cowboys, and this charity work. It has me worried."

"Where a sick old man and a gang of good ole' fashioned Western Outlaws are concerned?"

"Less so the sick man, and not even the gang. The heat they have on them is unusual. Pinkertons, bounty hunting gangs and organizations separate from the government, along with the usual lawmen and marshals. Everyone wants a piece of 'em. I can only imagine the money they're all worth, dead or alive, makes it worth it."

"You think any of these groups would touch us?" Carlos retorted. Folding the bills and putting them back into his pocket. "They don't know who we are. We're nobody. 'Guidos' who have made the mistake of leaving the big city and coming out to the country."

"Well that worries me too. We can pass...mostly. You no' so much."

"Whatever." Carlos shrugged. Pulling his cigarettes free and putting one to his lips. "We live in Lemoyne. We can handle it. I think you're spooked because you don't leave Saint Denis enough, boy." Carlos chuckled, lighting a match and puffing his cigarette quickly.

"Maybe." Ruggero conceded with a slight shrug. "Something about this place...feels off."

"In what regard?"

"I don't know. Something like mama would've said. The air, the people. It feels heavy. Ever since we met that Arthur guy."

"Come on, you telling me you're intimidated by-"

"No!" Ruggero snapped his arm up and quickly back down. "I told you...I think he and his people seem competent. Hell, I even liked the old man. Arthur don't seem bad neither,"

"I'm sure you wish their women folk were around more is all then." Carlos huffed sarcastically.

"Oddio… You just never let it rest do you?" (Oh man…) - Ruggero shook his head again.

"I'm just messing with ya'." Carlos again pat Ruggero's back. Puffing a long draw fro his cigarette and blowing the smoke to his left after. "Go on, say what you mean."

"It's the heat. The attention. We've survived by being quiet. Not by being loud, obnoxious, and drawing attention. These outlaws have earned the ire and wrath of so many and to be honest, I'm not so sure why…"

"The Blackwater Massacre." Carlos hummed. "Sounds like the whole town erupted into a gunfight."

"Which makes me wonder too."

"Wonder what?" Carlos hummed as the last bit of daylight began truly cresting out of sight. The voices of men howling and laughing in the saloon filling the street as other folk of varying descriptions meandered the ubiquitously muddy street.

"From what Mendoza sent, and the papers have said...the Pinkertons and the law engaged the Van der Linde gang. They were robbing a ferry. Not many people knew it was carrying the kind of cash it was."

"Right…" Carlos listened. "Hmm...why were there so many Pinkertons in a little shit town like Blackwater?"

"Exactly!" Ruggero clicked his tongue as Carlos got his meaning. "The gang learned this ferry had to be carrying all that money somehow, who knows and who cares at this point, but the bigger question is how did the Pinkertons know?"

"Maybe an agent was casing the town and happened across one of them?" Carlos offered. "After all, we did learn about them because they had a meeting damn near in the 'town square,' as it were."

"Possible. But, these gangs. Outlaws and the sort. There's still lots of them out in the wilds beyond New Austin. Why bring that many Pinkertons? Why assume you'd need that many as has been described?"

"Unless they knew." Carlos hummed. Leaning his head back and taking another puff of his cigarette. The flame of it traveling up the length of the rolled paper in the prominently arrived darkness that absorbed them. "You think they have a talker in their group."

"It feels that way." Ruggero intoned. His eyes narrowing as he stared off towards the stables. "All I'm saying is that; if they do have a rat in their crew and we get involved with them, the rat could put these groups onto us." Ruggero warned, and Carlos remained silent for a long moment after. Contemplating the possibility. This gang's troubles did seem rather intense. Even before they robbed the train of that oil man, Cornwall. His train's robbery only added fuel to an already raging inferno. Carlos had to admit, Ruggero made sense. Even if they were both far too removed to ever know for sure. Besides, rat hunting was more Mendoza and Niccolò's thing…

"They still have the contract from me." Carlos offered after allowing the silence to elapse between them. "We need this job done and we need it done now. I'm not going fishing for any run of the mill gang of drunks and fools in this town."

"I know, I'm not telling you to. Beyond the concerns I have they seem well tuned for the work."

"Precisely." Carlos nodded, taking another puff of the cigarette before tossing the third that remained into the muddy street beyond him.

"Now, it's not our business. But, keep it in the back of your mind for when we meetup again."

"Well, we're only doing the exchange and then we're done with them." Ruggero intoned. But, clearly as Carlos didn't say anything, he paused. Tilting his head to Carlos with a confused wince to his brow.

"Right?"

"We'll see." Carlos finally answered. "If they prove useful...why waste valuable contacts?"

"For the list I just gave? Or, they not so big enough for you?"

"They are why I say we be cautious. We may have no further need or use for them once this job is done. But, if Saint Denis is to be ours, and the South is to be...broadened...we could make use of such folk as these."

"We haven't even seen them finish the first job, Carlos." Carlos scoffed and pushed himself to a stand.

"Which is why I just said we be careful. More or less. That's why I have you, you big bastard." Carlos ruffled Ruggero's hair. Much to the larger man's annoyance, as he swatted Carlos hand away.

"Son of a bitch...alright. You're the boss."

"Like I said, I have a good feeling about this."

"Well I have a...less than good. Cautious feeling."

"Good. One to balance out the other." Carlos smiled and moved past Ruggero. Moving inside the hotel and likely for their room. Ruggero sighing as he allowed his mind to contemplate this new deal made with these outlaws...and a lot of other things.

The big chessboard they were moving around, and the first move had yet to even truly be made.

L's Note: Bit of a delay on this one, but couldn't be helped sadly! The story is moving along though! Oh, and thank you badkidoh and A Petty Thief, for leaving reviews! They always help drive inspiration to keep writing. That being said, I as much as anyone reading look forward to seeing how the two groups intertwine. Oh, and as usual, if you see any grammatical errors in desperate need of fixing just let me know and I will handle it. Though, this chapter seems good from the rereads of it I've done. :D

Until the next!

-L

Edit Note: Edited/Updated 05/24/2022