May 1, 1899
Blackwater seemed like a good idea in hindsight and it might've been had me or pa been there. Dutch had asked us to stay behind with Hosea, as the rest of them went ahead on the ferry - we still don't know why they didn't want us with them. I think if we were there, it wouldn't have gotten so out of hand.
We had been quietly planning a bank heist of our own before we heard the shooting and screaming from the ferry. We had to pretend that we didn't know what was happening, so we stood there as everyone scrambled and fled the scene. I think we were the only people that stayed - it might've looked suspicious to others, I'm not too sure. I just know I wouldn't be looking too closely if there was shooting in the vicinity.
I remember the signal we were waiting for; two gunshots and a long whistle. When we heard it, we got on our horses and hurried to our planned location, but that's when things got hairy. Pa's horse, Boadicea, was shot in the stomach. It was the first time in a while that I had seen him cry.
He made me and Hosea ride ahead to the planned location, where the wagon was, while he said goodbye to the old girl. She was a sweet horse too and I miss her. As we rode away from them, I heard a single shot behind me and I just knew.
As me and Hosea came upon the covered wagon we saw bounty hunters. Thankfully the trees were thick with foliage, because of this, we were able to dart in the woods and hide. I was worried about pa, but I knew he could take care of himself. He could talk himself out of the devil's grip if he had to.
After they had passed, we went to the wagon and began hooking Silver Dollar and Gray up, when we heard more horses barreling down the road. Thankfully it was just Dutch and Micah bearing bad news; Davey was shot, Jenny was killed, Mac and Sean were missing.
I told them about pa and Boadicea and while Dutch went to get him, Hosea finished helping me pack the wagon. The women, children and those too young or too weak, were left somewhere in the mountains. Once we were set, we hurried to the location to retrieve them. We all had hoped they were unharmed.
Pa was really bothered by having to put Boadicea down, from losing Jenny, Mac and Sean, from having Davey injured and bleeding out. It was all too much, but it was a risk we were well aware of. When we got to the abandoned farm where the rest of the gang was hiding at, we were thankful to find them unharmed.
It's getting colder and is starting to snow now - I think we lost them, but we can't be too sure. I guess we'll find out.
E.M
—
Colter
The frozen tundra of the Grizzlies West was just that, a tundra. The snow was waist high, seeping through your skin until it chilled your insides. The wind had no mercy on the living, whipping and pelting their exposed skin until it was raw. It was not a winter wonderland that most wished for, in fact, it was the exact opposite. The Van Der Linde gang were among those condemned to this icy hell, after fleeing from a heist gone wrong. Backwater was supposed to be their ticket, their freedom - but it was too good to be true. Things went sideways real fast and they were suddenly faced with a decision; death or freedom.
They ultimately chose freedom or one they were most accustomed to. And that freedom consisted of not following any specific laws. They did as they pleased just on the outskirts of society, while society remained oblivious. Only this time, the freedom they craved so much was interrupted and now they were trapped.
The gang trudged through the snow, following the path that was laid out in front of them, hoping that it was a path, with only a few lanterns and the moon lighting the way. Even still, it wasn't enough light for them and as the dark of night continued, they grew more and more concerned. They had to find shelter soon.
Arthur slowed Taima down and lifted the lantern, squinting, hoping he could focus his eyes enough to find the path again. The path so far was rough, so rough that he almost considered going back, but Dutch persuaded them to continue. The bounty hunters would still be looking for them - this was the safest place for them.
Nevertheless, the gang continued down the darkened path, hoping to make it out alive. They lost too much already, they didn't need to lose anymore. But at this point, everyone expected death.
"I wish you'd get back in the wagon!" Arthur called over the wind.
Ethan looked over, teeth chattering. "No, I want to help!"
"You're no use to me frozen!"
"I'm not going back!"
Arthur heaved a sigh.
They were a few miles ahead of the rest of the gang, hoping to scope out a place to hunker down for a while. They had women, children and an injured man aboard and couldn't continue at this rate. They needed medical supplies, food and warmer clothing.
"Hey look!"
Arthur jerked his head, eyes flickering until they focused. He saw what Ethan was pointing at and felt instant relief wash over him. Some kind of abandoned shack or barn - something they could recover in for a few days. They nudged their mounts into a trot, though it was a lot harder for them in the snow. They took it easy as they rode up on the structure, unaware that it was more than they asked for.
"It looks like a town!"
"That's exactly what it is!" Arthur turned to Ethan. "It looks abandoned enough - let's head back!"
Ethan nodded and they both turned their borrowed mounts.
They continued down the path they came, following the now almost covered prints in the snow. The wind wasn't nearly as bad in this direction, but they could certainly feel the push every time there was a gust. Arthur nearly lost his hat, which prompted him to use his hand to keep it steady. Up ahead, they could hear the faint creaking of wood, the snorting of horses and some muffled voices. It wasn't until they got closer that Arthur heard Dutch's booming voice calling out to him.
"Arthur, Ethan! Any luck?"
Arthur slowly lifted his head, the wind and snow whipping harshly against his face. At this point, his body was numb - he couldn't feel anything.
"We found a place where we can get some shelter...let Davey rest while he - you know," He turned Taima around and shouted over his shoulder. "An old mining town, abandoned, it ain't far."
"Come on!" Dutch bellowed.
...
Hosea pushed the door open to the first cabin, gun drawn, lantern raised. When he was satisfied that it was an empty space, he poked his head back out and waved.
"Bring him in here."
Abigail hurried inside first, followed by Bill and Arthur who carried Davey. Dutch lead the way for the others, ushering them inside one by one. But they didn't waste any time. Davey was placed on a crate, his face wrapped in bloody fabric. He wasn't speaking much anymore, not since they got into the thick of the storm. Arthur was concerned as he stood back, watching Abigail tend to his wounds and Miss Grimshaw bark out orders.
"Miss Gaskill, get that fire lit quick. Miss Jones, bring in whatever blankets we have. Mr. Pearson, see what we've got in terms of food."
Abigail stood up from her spot beside Davey and looked around the room, heart heavy, face long. And when she found her voice, it quivered.
"Davey's dead."
"There was nothing more you could've done."
She lowered her head.
Bill placed two coins over Davey's eyes, a payment for the afterlife. Arthur's eyes flickered down, then over to Dutch who stood off to the side.
"What are we gonna do? We need supplies." Hosea worried.
"You're gonna stay here and get yourself warm. I sent John and Micah scouting out ahead. Arthur and I, we're gonna ride out and see if we can find one of them."
"In this?"
Dutch glanced to the door then back to Arthur. "Just for a short bit. I don't see what other choice we have."
He turned to the rest of the gang. "Listen...listen to me all of you, just for a moment. Now we've had, well, a bad couple of days. I loved Davey...Jenny. Sean, Mac...they may be okay, we don't know. But we lost some folks. Now, if I could throw myself in the ground in their stead, I'd do it - gladly. But...we're gonna ride out and find some food. Everybody, we're safe now. There ain't nobody following us through a storm like this one and by the time they get here, well, we're gonna be - we're gonna be long gone. We've been through worse than this before."
He turned and narrowed his eyes. "Mr. Pearson. Miss Grimshaw, I need you to turn this place into a camp. We may be here for a few days. Now all of you - all of you, get yourselves warm. Stay strong. Stay with me. We ain't done yet!"
He turned and snatched up the lantern. "Come along Arthur, you too Ethan."
"That a good idea?" Arthur questioned.
Dutch shook his head. "He's a good shot and has young eyes. We'll need him."
"I'll be fine -" Ethan assured. "A little cold won't hurt me. Plus, you fellas need someone to watch your backs."
Arthur heaved a sigh. "Fine. Alright. Just stay close - last thing we need is for somebody to get lost in all this."
"Arthur...always the worrying kind." Dutch teased.
As they traded the cabin for the frozen tundra, Dutch stopped abruptly and turned to Arthur, raising his lantern.
"Well, we ain't run into them yet. So...they must be headed down hill."
"Sure -" Arthur replied. He reached out to Dutch. "Hey, I ain't had time to ask, but...what really went down back there on the boat?"
Dutch's brown eyes flickered between Arthur and Ethan, then landed on Arthur. "We missed you...that's what happened. Come on."
Ethan narrowed his eyes. Something wasn't adding up, but far be it from him to question Dutch. He managed thus far, he would prevail.
"Hey, you need horses?" Charles called out.
"Oh yeah -" Dutch replied, a bit winded. "Mr. Smith, get yourself indoors. You need to rest that hand of yours."
"I'll live." Charles replied stoically.
"Get indoors, son!" Dutch demanded. "We need you strong!"
As Ethan mounted his horse, he turned to Arthur just in time to see a faint nod tossed in Charles' direction, almost as if he was urging him to oblige. Charles reluctantly nodded and hurried back to the cabin.
"Remember what I said. Stay close." Arthur warned.
Ethan nodded.
...
They were only traveling for a few minutes, though with the wind gusts and the snow pelting their faces, it felt like hours. All three men were miserable, even their mounts had an attitude; it wasn't exactly the type of weather for a joy ride. Arthur just hoped they found what they needed and got back to camp.
"Gettin' worse out here, Dutch!"
"Try and stay close and we'll do our best to stick to the trail."
"This Goddamn weather!" Arthur barked.
"Two days or more like this now - oh it has to blow over soon."
Arthur glanced over his shoulder, making sure Ethan was there, before he continued behind Dutch. He'd much prefer his son to be in front of him or at the very least beside him, but for some odd reason or another, he chose to hang out in the back. Arthur liked to believe it was done on purpose.
Taima snorted and shook her head, showing clear signs of agitation. Arthur reached forward and patted the side of her neck, hoping a gentle touch would soothe her. But he wasn't Charles, who understood animals and them.
"Hey -" Ethan rode up beside Arthur. "Why are we doing this anyhow? I thought we had enough provisions?"
"Precautionary. Ain't too sure how long we'll be held up here nor how long this damn storm will last!"
Ethan gripped his hat before it could blow off. "Unusual weather for May, what the hell's going on?"
Arthur scoffed. "If I had all the answers, we sure as shit wouldn't be here right now."
They both urged their mounts forward, not wanting to lag too far behind Dutch who had gotten ahead of them. The older man glanced over his shoulder, then turned back to the road, holding out the lantern.
As they rounded a bend over an icy river, the path became a bit clearer and the snow a little lighter. They were able to run the horses, which would create some friction, which would generate heat. Though no matter how light the snow was and how clear the path was, they still had to heed caution.
"Can't believe we lost Davey."
"He's the only one. No more, Arthur - no more!" Dutch declared. "We need to get those people warm and fed."
"Least we don't need to worry about Pinkertons tailing us in this."
Dutch ducked his head. "In a couple of days, we'll be on the other side."
"I sure hope so!"
"You're the only one I can rely on to stay strong!"
Just as Arthur opened his mouth to speak, Ethan announced that he saw something up ahead. Both men returned their focus and watched as a shadowy form moved closer and closer to them. Arthur reached for the pistol on his hip. Dutch raised the lantern.
"You there! Who are you?"
The shadowy figure emerged and Dutch breathed a sigh of relief. Arthur, as much as he couldn't stand Micah, was grateful it was him and not someone out to kill them. Ethan looked down and away from Micah.
"Micah!" Dutch bellowed.
"Gentlemen." He replied, lifting his lantern.
"Found anything?"
"I think so. A little homestead down that away."
Dutch nodded. "Okay. Good. Anyone home?"
"Sure - place is blazing with light and noise, sounded like a party."
"Well let's go see."
"Alright, follow me."
The three men followed Micah, who led them back to the homestead. Arthur was curious as to where John was, since Dutch made it perfectly clear he didn't want any of them traveling alone. He hoped John was headed back to camp.
"How's Davey?" Micah asked.
Dutch heaved a sigh. "Didn't make it. Jenny too."
"That's too bad. Davey was a real fighter. Both of them Callander boys is, er well, was."
"Yeah and Mac and Sean -"
"We don't know that."
"Nasty business we've gotten ourselves into."
Arthur snorted and ducked his head, gripping his hat.
"I'm glad you're alright, Micah!"
"Hey, ask him if he's seen John!" Arthur called.
Dutch nodded. "Have you seen John, Micah?"
"No. We got separated! Last thing I heard him say...he was headed back to camp!"
"He'll be fine!" Arthur assured. "Things always turn out right for that boy!"
As they crested a hill, Micah slowed down behind a thicket of trees. Dutch held out his hand, alerting Arthur and Ethan to the sudden change of pace. They slowed their mounts and waited just behind Dutch, as Micah looked through his binoculars.
"You and Micah go ahead, me and the boy will bring up the rear."
Arthur grumbled to himself.
They urged their mounts down the path, as Dutch and Ethan brought up the rear. Arthur held up the lantern a little higher, though his arm was beginning to ache some. He was not cut out for this weather.
"You run into anybody else?"
Micah snickered. "I reckon we're the only ones crazy enough to be out in this, Morgan!"
"Yeah well -" He scoffed. "Don't talk to me about being crazy!"
"Aw, no glad you're alright, I was worried Micah? Look, it's all gonna work out Morgan!"
Micah suddenly lowered his voice and slowed his horse down. "Alright gentlemen, let's keep it down. It's just up ahead."
All four men rode their horses to the edge of a snowy cliff and looked out over the sprawling homestead. Arthur could see the potential in the lot and if it weren't so snowy, he could see himself owning something of the like.
"Okay! Let's head down there!" Dutch announced.
The men carefully descended the hill, following a shallow path cut out in the snow. The horses whinnied and snorted, their agitation growing by the minute. Arthur feared one of them would be bucked off and he had a feeling it'd be him. It was always him.
They rounded the bend and a thicket of trees - the homestead growing bigger as they neared. Lights flickered in the downstairs window, loud voices rang out over the howling wind. Naturally, there weren't any horses out front, which meant they didn't know how many people were inside.
"It's right up here!" Dutch called out.
They dismounted their horses just behind some trees and made their journey toward the main home. Arthur had a gnawing feeling in his stomach that normally wasn't there - situations like this were always second nature to him. Perhaps it was Ethan being there or his overprotectiveness; perhaps it was both?
"Let me handle this, don't wanna spook these fine people."
As they grew closer to the home, they could hear some hollering and laughter. Traditional homesteaders didn't necessarily have fun, they were usually quiet and kept to themselves. Living off the land was most important to them - drinking and other activities, well, that usually didn't happen. Then again, they were all in the middle of a snow storm - there was no work to be had on the land, not until the snow melted and the ice thawed. It could be they were letting off some steam.
"Someone's having fun in there." Micah announced.
"You three - get yourself out of sight. One lonely man is a lot less intimidating than four nasty looking degenerates," He cleared his throat. "Arthur, Ethan, in that cattle shed off to the left. Micah, get down behind that wagon up front."
Arthur and Ethan made their way to the cattle shed, trudging through the thick, cold, wet snow. Neither could feel their legs at this point, but stepping into the shed where there was only a light dusting, made them realize they could still feel their limbs. And they hurt. Though there was no time for feeling pain nor temperature - they crouched down, pistols drawn. Dutch approached the home, clutching his jacket, lantern raised above his head.
Arthur could feel his heart beat a little faster, which began to generate heat throughout his body. He glanced over to Ethan, who was sitting against the half wall, Cattleman Revolver in hand, waiting for the signal.
"Maybe I should've stayed behind." He joked.
Arthur snorted. "I wish you would've."
"Hello!" Dutch called out. "...excuse me!"
The door swung open and a man stumbled out, a lantern swaying back and forth. Dutch chuckled and stepped forward.
"Oh -" He chuckled. "Hello!"
"Whatchu want?"
"I am very sorry to disturb you. Uh, my friends and I, well we've gotten into some trouble - lost in the storm -"
"Hey -" Ethan whispered. "Those fellas are awful trusting."
"That's why Dutch told us to hide. Now, shh."
The man stumbled down the steps toward Dutch, wearing nothing but a union suit and a wool jacket. Arthur noticed more men coming out of the homestead.
"One coming out of the back door, another out the front." Arthur whispered.
Ethan nodded and cocked his gun.
"We can't help you mister!"
"Arthur - Arthur, we got a problem," Micah whispered, lifting a piece of canvas from a broken wagon. "There's a corpse right here. There's a corpse in the wagon."
Arthur heaved a sigh. "Christ...just keep your eyes on Dutch."
"I think you should go buddy!"
Dutch snorted. "Now friend, I ain't asking for much. Please, I-I am desperate."
"Naw, I don't believe it." One man said.
"Me neither! C'mere partner, c'mere!"
Before Dutch could take a step, Arthur stood, aimed his pistol and pulled the trigger three times. He hit the man in front of Dutch who was holding the lantern, he fell to the ground dead. Dutch pulled out his revolver and shot the other guy in front of him in the chest, sending him to the ground.
Micah and Ethan followed as more men piled out of the house. Ethan shot the guy by the doorway in the neck, he held his neck as blood started spurting out, causing him to fall down on the porch. Micah shoots the guy on the left side of the house twice in the chest, the other one up top begins shooting out the window.
"There's another one shooting from the window!" Dutch shouts.
Micah dropped the man as soon as Dutch said that. Ethan felt a bullet hit the wood that he and Arthur were hiding behind, another man had come barreling out of the house, Ethan tried to peek out but the bastard kept shooting, Arthur noticed his distress and took him out, one clean shot to the head.
"You sons of bitches!" One came shooting out of the outhouse, Ethan pulled Arthur down, ducking from the bullet that went over their heads. Ethan then aimed his revolver and shot the man in the gut then in the head, he fell back into the outhouse and on the shitter.
"We've got a runner! You see him, Arthur?" Micah calls out.
Arthur took off after him, trudging up the short incline. He raised his gun, aimed and pulled the trigger. One single shot in the back of the head brought the man to his knees, then in a crumpled, bloody mess on the blanket of snow. Arthur turned and began reloading his gun, when he heard Dutch, Ethan and Micah shouting.
"Goddamn O'Driscoll boys!"
Arthur rounded the corner of the house, just as Dutch emerged from behind the shed. He leaned against the wooden post, trying to catch his breath. The only good news that came from this whole experience was he could feel his legs again.
"You alright?" Ethan asked, a hand on Arthur's shoulder.
Arthur nodded. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. You hit?"
"Naw. I'm fine."
Dutch stalked up the stairs. "Micah, bring the horses a little closer! Arthur, Ethan, let's search the cabin."
They pushed through the creaky wooden door and were instantly warmed by the fire in the hearth. Arthur felt as if he could sit in front of the fire for days and not move an inch. But they weren't here for leisure.
"Turn this place upside down." Dutch ordered.
This wasn't necessarily something Ethan enjoyed; ransacking someone's house, especially when they just killed them. It felt as if they were trampling over their grave. At least when they weren't home, it didn't seem as terrible. It seemed as if they were just in it for what they had and not their lives.
"Found some jewelry."
"Keep it."
Ethan scoffed. "For what? I don't wear it."
"Use it for a barter, to sell or for some gal you fancy."
It was no secret that he had a crush on Mary-Beth, well, he thought it was a secret. And maybe it was up until a certain point, but he guessed there was only so much one could hide in a tight knit group. He pocketed the gold necklace.
"Uhh, I'm starving!" Arthur whined.
"You should eat something now, Arthur, get your strength up for the ride back."
Arthur picked up a picture of a couple in wedding attire. He frowned. "Looks like the poor bastard was married too at some point."
Ethan walked over and nudged Arthur. He turned and was met with a hunk of warm bread. The sweet smell of warmth mixed with yeast and honey made his stomach grumble loudly. He sunk his teeth into the piece of bread and moaned to himself. Ethan snickered as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Good now?"
"Mhm."
"Keep looking fellas!" Dutch urged. "We have a whole camp full of people to feed!"
Arthur stuck the bread in his mouth and opened the trunk at the foot of the bed. Inside was clothes and a pair of boots, some ammo and a few other pictures. Arthur swiped the ammo. He walked to the nightstand, as he munched on the piece of bread.
"I can't believe it...the O'Driscoll's." Dutch spoke to no one in particular.
"I know. Maybe they're hiding up here too," Arthur suggested as he opened some cabinets. "There's a big price on Colm O'Driscoll's head. Heh, ain't as big as the one on yours though."
Ethan chuckled. "Nor yours."
"Easy -" He warned. "Place is dry and warm. Maybe we can move the women and Jack down here?"
"Maybe, Arthur. Maybe. We'll see how they are when we get back."
Arthur stopped abruptly. "Big ol' pool of blood here on the floor. Probably the poor bastard that lived here."
"I know I saw," He started walking toward the door. "I'm gonna start packing the horses. You two keep looking. Grab anything we can use then meet me outside."
Arthur opened a cabinet above a wash basin in the corner of the room and found a few bottles of medicine, a pack of cigarettes and another box of ammo. He stuffed them in his satchel. He turned just in time to see Ethan picking up a wool shawl from the trunk. He smirked to himself.
"Find something?"
Ethan glanced up, dropping the shawl on the trunk. "Uh yeah, we should probably go now."
"Yeah was thinkin' the same."
"Oh I checked upstairs. I found a pack of cigarettes, some ammo and a few dollars."
Arthur placed a hand on the back of his neck. "Good. Let's go."
As they traded the warmth of the cabin for the frozen hell once more, they were met with the horses just out front, being loaded down with the things they found. It wasn't much, but it was more than they had.
"Arthur, go search the barn. Micah, Ethan, do a once over inside - see if we may have missed something." Dutch ordered.
"Got it."
As Arthur trudged toward the barn, Ethan reluctantly followed after Micah - the one man he truly could not stand. He didn't really do anything wrong, he just rubbed Ethan the wrong way. His very presence irked his own. But he would be cordial, because they were in need right now and they didn't need a feud.
"You check upstairs, little Morgan?"
Ethan heaved a sigh. "Yeah, I did. Why?"
"Just makin' sure, don't wanna leave no stone unturned."
"Yeah well -" His foot collided with something under a rug and his brow furrowed. "What the?"
He bent down and pulled the rug back, only to see a trap door. He lifted the knob and twisted - the door creaked open and Ethan coughed as he inhaled a mouthful of dust. He waved his hand around, hoping to make a clear path for him to breathe.
"Well I'll be damned." Micah snickered.
Ethan took the lantern as he climbed down the ladder. It was a bit creaky and unsteady due to his weight, so he became more cautious as he lowered himself down into the cool space.
Micah bent down. "See anything, kid?"
"Uh -" Ethan squinted as he looked around the room. "No..ah - shit!"
"Get out!"
"What the fuck was that?" Micah called.
Suddenly, a half naked woman came barreling up the ladder, brandishing a broken whiskey bottle. She was snarling and seething. Micah reached forward and she lunged for him, leading him to stumble back into the wall.
"Hey watch it lady!"
Ethan stumbled up the ladder and nearly fell when he reached the landing. The woman began screaming and knocking things over, dropping the broken bottle to the ground, shattering the remaining pieces further. She scrambled for a kitchen knife as Micah walked toward her.
"Get out!" She screeched.
"Hey!"
"Back off, Micah!" Ethan yelled. "She's just scared!"
"Shut up - I ain't doin' anything!"
She moved toward the table and Micah followed. They circled the table with her screaming to get out and leave her alone. And it wasn't until the door burst open and swung shut, that Micah stopped chasing and held up his hands.
"Micah! What the hell do you think you're doing!?" Dutch scolded.
"Look what I found in the cellar!" Micah boasted proudly, as he made kissing noises with his mouth.
Arthur burst through the door, just in time to see Micah antagonizing a young woman, who was standing in only her gown, holding a knife in her trembling hands.
"Leave her alone!" Arthur snapped.
"I wasn't doin' nothing!" He snapped back, dodging a bottle hurled in his direction. "She's one of them O'Driscoll's!"
"No she ain't, Micah! Look at her!" Dutch bellowed.
As the woman gripped the knife tighter, Micah tipped over the kitchen table, knocking the lantern on the floor. The red check tablecloth caught fire and soon it was spreading on the floor and up the wall. Dutch grabbed Micah and shoved him back toward Arthur.
"Get the hell out of the way!" Arthur snarled.
"Miss?" Ethan inched closer. "Miss - my name is Ethan. We didn't know you were down there. We want to help you - we mean you no harm, I swear it."
Arthur and Dutch stood back, so they didn't spook the girl any further. Since Ethan looked less menacing than all of them combined, it wasn't surprising that she was calm in his presence. Ethan reached out and laid a gentle hand on her wrist and another on her shoulder. Her bottom lip quivered and her breathing was shallow, eyes frantic as she searched the cabin.
"Drop the knife...please?"
The knife slipped from her grip and clattered to the floor. Ethan began guiding her out of the cabin, shucking off his warm wool coat and placing it around her shivering shoulders.
"C'mon. It'll be okay." Ethan assured.
"We need to get out of here quickly!" Dutch announced.
They left the cabin as it was engulfed in flames. The house groaned and creaked as the fire grappled its foundation.
"Are you alright, Miss?"
"They...came three days ago. And my Husband...they -" A sob escaped her and she lowered her head.
"You are...safe now," He turned toward the house. "...can't stay here."
Arthur took the lantern and walked up beside the lady. "Miss...It's ok now. We're uh, we're bad men but...we ain't them."
He walked her over to Dutch's horse and hoisted her up behind his saddle. She immediately wrapped her arms around his middle and huddled close.
"We'll keep you safe until you figure out what you wanna do."
They all mounted up and began riding away from the carnage that was someone's home. It was a tragedy and it all could've been avoided if Micah didn't overreact. If he didn't tag along, they might've left her alone or perhaps, they might have been more understanding.
"What's your name, Miss?" Dutch questioned.
"Adler..."
"Adler?"
"Sadie Adler - Mrs. Adler. He was my Husband."
…
When they got back to Colter it was well after midnight. Everyone slept in shifts, while others kept watch. It was an unspoken rule they had whenever they camped, no matter where it was. And it usually wasn't in the most ideal places.
Miss Grimshaw helped Mrs. Adler into some warm, dry clothes and gave her a bowl of vegetable soup. Mrs. Adler seemed eternally grateful there were other women around - it vindicated their claims that she would be safe.
"You remind me so much of your father." Hosea began.
Ethan looked up from the roaring fire. "I've been told that."
Hosea shook his head. "He was always smarter than he let on. I think he did it because he liked to learn."
"My pa?" He scoffed. "I find that hard to believe."
"Believe it -" He re-lit his cigarette. "Though our education system was a bit unorthodox; we didn't just teach reading, writing and arithmetic - we taught the basics of life, what you need to get by."
There was still a slight chill in the air, but the room was growing warmer. He had to guess with all the bodies generating heat and the fire going in the hearth, before long the room would be nice and toasty.
"Seems his fine education was passed on to you."
Ethan snickered. "Well I have two of the greatest teachers in the world."
"Three. Your father is a pretty good teacher."
"Yeah. He has taught me a lot."
Hosea slung an arm around his shoulders. "You're a good kid. Never forget that."
"Thanks. I'll try to remember."
"Your father told me what you did today. Good on you, son."
Ethan looked down. "Someone had to do something. She was hysterical and Micah...well, he wasn't helping."
Hosea scoffed. "No he wouldn't. He never does. He only causes trouble, it seems."
"So why is he here then?"
"Because Dutch sees something in him."
"Far be it from me to judge uncle Dutch, but...I think he's wrong about Micah."
Hosea put his cigarette out on the ground, mushing it with the tip of his boot. He exhaled the smoke away from Ethan and draped his arms over his knees; contemplating the statement that was just served.
"I hope you don't think less of me -"
"I could never. We all have our own opinions and beliefs and I respect that -" He heaved a sigh. "...but when it comes to Dutch, sometimes we have to accept the choices he makes."
"Even Micah?"
Hosea chuckled. "He's unruly now, but Dutch and me...we'll straighten him out."
Ethan smirked. "Well I wish you the best of luck then."
"Get some rest, son. We have a big day tomorrow." Hosea declared.
"You too."
Ethan stood from his upturned crate, bottle of whiskey in hand and strolled toward his own bedroll. He laid back, an arm behind his head, knee propped. He wasn't much for sleeping these days, though on some days sleep found him before he ever had a chance to fight it. It felt like tonight would be one of those nights.
—
May 3, 1899
Some say hell is hot and fiery, well I beg to differ. Hell is frozen and bitter. Maybe hell is different for everyone? I don't really know, I'm not a religious man. I talk with Swanson sometimes about religion with the hopes I might find something, but it just drives me crazy. It's been a long day and I'm ready for it to end.
We found an old camp high up in the mountains. We saved a woman from some O'Driscoll's who killed her husband and locked her in the cellar. I don't even want to imagine what they did to her. We're nearly out of food. Davey was shot after the robbery and died enroute, Jenny died on the ferry. Mac and Sean are missing…
Apparently the O'Driscoll's are hiding out in some mining camp near a lake? I wasn't there, I was in the cabin with Micah. Pa didn't really speak to me about what was said, though Dutch and Hosea know what happened. Sometimes it frustrates me that he doesn't tell me things, but I get it...I guess.
And to make it worse, Pearson made the most disgusting pea soup I've ever laid my eyes upon. I'd rather eat mud than this. But I guess it's something to fill your stomach, so you don't feel the aching pains of hunger. Little Jack didn't even like it and he eats everything. Pa says we'll have to go hunting here sometime soon - at least that sounds promising. It's about the most promising thing I've heard all week and I've heard a lot. I just hope there's decent game around here.
I try not to think too much anymore, because I end up angry and bitter. I try not to get too close to people, because I fear they won't be here for long. I sometimes really hate this life, but...sometimes I enjoy the freedom. Though I have to wonder, how many of us have to die before we find the true meaning of freedom?
I think I'll head to bed now, but only because my eyes are betraying me. I guess I deserve to sleep a little.
E.M
