Arthur was damned lucky Charlotte didn't scare easily. Mighta been on his way to a noose right now...or lying dead from those Raiders shooting up the jailhouse. Where he'd seen no answer, Charlotte had sought a solution and they'd made it out alive.

But his conversation with her afterwards had him unsettled.

"What does this mean to you?" Charlotte had asked, holding up their hands meaningfully.

Everything, he should have answered, but he'd been too dumbstruck by the question.

She should know by now she was his future. Why would she question it? Though, he s'posed he'd done a shit job of proving it. He'd acted the fool and proved the bastard he was by trying to scare her.

She'd been right. First sign of trouble and his instinct was always to push her away and get out on his own. Damn. Maybe she did have every right to doubt him. He wasn't sure anymore what qualities he possessed that had Charlotte defending him and keeping him around.

He hadn't been aware he made a sound until Charlotte turned to him.

"None of that melancholy sighing today," she tutted. "We're nearly to Saint Denis and then we'll be home."

He gripped her hand. "Can't be there soon enough."

As if the world chose to spite him and Charlotte's words, a conductor came down the aisles as they were slowing into the station with bad news.

"Alright, everyone, we're going to make a brief stop in Saint Denis in order to hook on another car. I'll need everyone to exit when we come to a complete stop. If you plan to continue north with us, return to the train in an hour, when the clock strikes noon."

Arthur muttered, "Shit. Can't just have a simple trip to the city, can we?"

"That's alright." Charlotte patted his hand. "We can stop by some shops while we wait."

"More shopping?" he said in disgust. "Ain't you tired of that?"

"I was thinking of doing something for Karen. We left in a bit of a hurry after all. She hardly has any personal belongings."

As they disembarked, Charlotte left his side and caught up to Karen, who admittedly was standing hesitantly near a bench, like she ain't got no where to go. It was likely the case as Arthur hadn't had a chance to make their offer to stay yet.

Charlotte looped a decisive arm through Karen's. "Fancy a quick shopping trip while we wait for the train?"

Karen glanced at Arthur and he shrugged. Karen said ruefully, "I don't have much for money."

"Neither do I at the moment." Charlotte waved a hand. "We don't need to buy anything. We'll merely...window shop a bit."

Arthur narrowed his eyes on her less than honest answer. He knew her well enough by now to know when she weren't being truthful. Not to mention, she'd only just told him her plans to make purchases for Karen, but he suspected she was treading lightly in case Karen put up a fuss.

As soon as they started walking the streets in Saint Denis, Arthur saw it in full swing for celebrations. Carolers were roaming the main street. Street vendors were trying to sell last minute cheap gifts. The entire city smelled of baked goods. It was Christmas Eve, after all. Arthur'd nearly forgotten in dusty Rhodes, where the snow couldn't quite reach and only the chill evening air gave evidence of the winter.

Ahead of him, the women walked and Charlotte was asking Karen about different types of clothing and styles. As they went on about some specific garment or another, Arthur's mind and eyes wandered down the street they were passing. His attention was snagged by a red, white and blue painted wooden pole.

He caught up to the ladies and said, "Charlotte, I'm gonna head over to the barber's. I'll catch up with you two."

She lifted a brow. "You're willingly leaving me to my own devices?"

"You ain't alone. You got Karen and she packs a mean punch." He pointed a finger and warned, "But no funny business. Keep to the shop and don't get into any trouble."

Karen rolled her eyes. "He's only warning us because he knows I'm the fun one."

"Fun ain't the word I'd use."

"We'll be fine, Arthur," Charlotte waved him off and returned her attention to Karen, asking about what colors she preferred.

Arthur strode down the block and entered the barber shop through a pair of white doors. Beside one of the barber's chair stood a red-headed kid sweeping the floor. When he looked up, his eyes widened and he froze in place at his task.

Now what? That was not a reaction that meant anything good. Guess he was keeping this beard for longer. "Sorry, partner. Didn't mean to disturb you."

Arthur turned, intending to abandon the place before he ran afoul some more shit today, but the kid rushed up to him. "Wait! Don't leave!"

Confused, he eyed the kid. "Why the hell not?"

The boy stared. "You don't recognize me, do you, sir?"

Goddammit. He'd come here in hopes to hide anyone from recognizing him. "No."

The kid pulled him all the way in the shop and then flipped a closed sign and locked the doors.

Arthur shifted uneasily. "What in the world..."

"My name's Walter Holdern. I..." He looked away and continued in a low voice, "You found me, sir, in the basement of that crazy gunsmith. In Rhodes."

"Oh, yeah. I see it now." As it dawned on him, Arthur joked, "Sorry, son, didn't see the likeness without your bowl cut and sailor suit."

He ignored the jab and pushed Arthur towards the chair. "You have a seat, sir. I never did get to pay you for what you done. Your cut's on the house today."

"Well, okay. I ain't gonna say no to free." Arthur removed his coat and sat in the chair. "Just need a beard trim, if you don't mind."

The boy obliged him, but got a little overexcited. He went on about how no one even known he was missing, that his daddy thought he'd left the family business for partying. And on and on.

"Alright, now," Arthur finally had to interrupt, irritated. "Any more off and you'll take the skin with it."

"Right. Sorry, sir." Walter cleaned up the shaving cream.

Arthur had only asked for a trim, but the boy had ended up making him clean shaven. It weren't what he wanted, but the job was fine for how much talking the boy'd done. He stood and pulled his coat back on.

Walter asked earnestly, "You live around here, sir?"

"No. Ain't my kind of place."

"Rhodes?"

"Ain't welcome back there no more."

He nodded. "I understand. I have similar feelings."

"Maybe, but not in the same way." Arthur offered vaguely, "I live up north aways. I try to keep my visits to the city few and far apart."

"Well, whenever you stop in again here and I'm working, your cut will be on the house."

Surprised, Arthur could only say, "Much appreciated."

Walter said seriously, "You did me a great service, sir. I won't forget it."

As Arthur waved a goodbye, he thought maybe he shouldn't be surprised by the boy's gratitude. Charlotte was always trying to convince him he'd helped more folk than he knew. Usually, he brushed off her words because it didn't matter what good he done, there was not enough to outweigh the violence in his past.

But when Arthur met these folk later on, he couldn't deny he'd affected their lives in a positive way. Like Walter. Arthur didn't know what would have become of him, but he knew it weren't right him being trapped in some weird man's basement. Today, he allowed himself some small acceptance that he'd done something worthwhile.

The ladies were at the same tailor's down the block where he'd purchased his current hat. When he entered the building, it was to the middle of a disagreement.

"You didn't say nothing about buying," Karen was saying, her arms full of clothes. "I can't afford none of this shit."

"You don't need to worry about the cost."

Karen snapped, "I ain't no charity case."

"Then think of it as a Christmas gift," Charlotte stated in a way that brokered no argument and she swept away to the tailor for payment.

Karen saw him and pleaded, "Arthur."

Arthur dropped his hands into his belt and felt a grin turning up. "You're better off just doin' what she wants. She ain't givin' you a choice and she only gets more stubborn."

Karen snarled, "I ain't paying her back."

"She don't expect you to."

"What the hell kind of boss lady you saddle yourself with?" She continued in a mutter, "Damn, she's nearly worse than Grimshaw."

Arthur chuckled as she left to change into the outfit and he joined Charlotte at the register.

"I see you ain't shying away any."

Charlotte handed over some cash to the tailor, saying, "Karen did us a great favor. I wanted to gift her with something. A couple of new garments is a good start."

Arthur rested a hand on her back and could feel heat radiating like crazy from her. Slightly alarmed, he rested a hand to her cheek, and asked, "You feelin' alright, darlin'?"

She glanced at him. "Of course."

"'Cause you're burning up." Her cheeks and forehead weren't as heated and she seemed fine, but it hadn't been the first indication of something wrong he'd seen today. "And that fainting at the jailhouse sure as hell weren't right."

She frowned a moment. "It is curious..." When she caught his eye, she turned a reassuring smile on him. "But I'm perfectly well, Arthur. You have no need to worry."

Karen emerged from the changing room, cleaned up and dressed more immaculately. Before Arthur could compliment her, the church bells rang for noon and alarm struck through him.

"Come on. We ain't staying on the streets of Saint Denis."

As he shepherded them along down the sidewalks, Karen complained, "Slow down, Arthur. The train ain't goin' nowhere yet. The whistles ain't even started blowin'."

"With the day we've had, I ain't takin' no more chances."

When they turned the corner, he was relieved to see the train was still in the station. Karen was right. Train hadn't left yet, but it was boarding.

As they passed the ticket booth, a woman called out, "It's the lovebirds!"

In a way that had Arthur grinding his teeth, Charlotte took precious time to stop and turn. "Ah, Mrs. Bloom."

Mrs. Bloom came up to them, asking, "Did my uncle set you up in a room?"

Arthur and Charlotte shared a glance. Charlotte told her, "Actually, we didn't end up staying at the saloon."

"Oh. Well." Mrs. Bloom seemed surprised. "Either way, my good turn still amounted to a beneficial reward for me."

"How's that?" Charlotte asked politely while Arthur shifted with impatience.

"I don't know if you noticed, but the general store in Rhodes is closed."

Charlotte shook her head, but Karen snapped her fingers. "Oh yeah. I've wondered about that."

"Wonder no longer. It was the fault of my dreadful nephew."

Jesus. Were they going to sit through this woman's life story?

"The reason is not important except my brother-in-law is a piece of work who had no mind for his family. My sister died and he abandoned the shop..."

Shit. They were, weren't they?

"I'd run the store myself, but you've been there. I'd be hassled every day by those troublesome Lemoyne Raiders. Nuisances, they are."

Arthur muttered, "That may not be as big a problem as you think anymore."

"In any case, I met Simon over there who has offered to spruce it up and run it for me. He's an army man."

He looked over to who she gestured and did a double take. "Navy, actually."

Mrs. Bloom frowned and said, "Ah, yes, that's right. How did you know?"

Without giving her an answer, Arthur said, "Excuse me, ladies."

It was Pearson standing there, but when he caught sight of Arthur approaching, a haunted look widened his eyes. Maybe he thought Arthur had come up from the grave for revenge, or maybe to haul him back to the gang and punish him for abandoning them at the end. Truth was, Arthur didn't care about none of that.

To put him at ease, Arthur offered a hand to shake and greeted him in a friendly manner. "Mr. Pearson."

"Mr. Morgan." Pearson shook his hand.

"It must be the day for reunions," Arthur said. "How you gettin' on?"

"Well enough, nowadays." Pearson studied him. "What about you? You're looking better than the last time I saw you."

"Fair enough, I s'pose. Rest and the proper tonics will do that."

"I see you got Miss Jones with you. Was sure she'd lost herself to the bottle or to something in the woods."

"Yeah, I thought so too."

A momentarily silence fell between them and Pearson cleared his throat. "Hopeless in the end there, wasn't it?"

Arthur nodded. "That it was. Glad to see you made it out alright."

He visibly relaxed. "I'm relieved to hear you say that."

"But what you doin' around these parts?"

"Ethel over there," Pearson nodded to Mrs. Bloom chatting away with Charlotte and Karen. "She's got a shop that needs running in Rhodes. She'll get some of the profits, but it's still a good offer."

"Going straight, huh? Good for you, Pearson."

Pearson shrugged. "You know I never was much for jobs. Only thing I was good at was cooking and I know I wasn't up to par in that case either."

"I ain't saying nothing about it."

"You don't need to. But it's all water under the bridge now."

"If you say so."

Pearson clapped him on the shoulder. "Say, if you ever make your way to Rhodes, I'll give you a discount on anything you need."

"Mighty fine offer, Pearson, but I won't be visitin' there any time soon." Arthur coughed some. "We, uh, stirred up some trouble there."

"Again?"

Arthur rested his hands on his belt. "Can't seem to help myself."

"You've always been a wild one, Mr. Morgan."

"So they say."

Pearson glanced at the ladies and smoothed down his dark hair in a nervous gesture. He leaned in and asked quietly, "You think I got a shot with her?"

"With Mrs. Bloom?" Arthur eyed the chatting woman. "If you're willing to listen to that all day, I'd say so."

"She ain't a bad sort and a widow now." Pearson shrugged. "Also a gossip, but it ain't the worst quality in a woman."

"I don't know. Reckon I prefer a woman with a sharp knife instead of a sharp tongue."

"You say that now. Until you wake up with that knife in your chest."

What the hell was his paranoia with women? He musta had a bad experience with a she-devil. Arthur said doubtfully, "I s'pose you're right."

"It's unlikely Mrs. Bloom's ever held a knife so that's one step ahead of the women in our association."

The screeching of the train whistle interrupted their conversation. Arthur said, "We best be gettin' on. I ain't stayin' here a minute longer than I need to."

They joined the women, where Mrs. Bloom was inexplicably going on about...the circus?

"My nephew abandoned the store to take up with the circus. Fancied himself a juggler. A juggler! Have you ever heard a more ridiculous occupation?"

"I don't think so," Charlotte said demurely as Karen looked to the sky.

"Pardon me, Mrs. Bloom," Arthur broke in. "But me and the ladies gotta get on this train. You two also boarding?"

"Oh, no. Simon and I are sharing the coach to Rhodes."

"Word of advice going into town, tell the driver to avoid the road in front of the sheriff's office for the time being." Arthur gave Pearson a look. "Clean-up's likely going on."

Pearson nodded his understanding. "Good luck to you, Mr. Morgan."

"And you, Pearson. Merry Christmas."

As they took their separate ways, he heard Mrs. Bloom asking how he knew them.

"Uh...an old business partner, ma'am," Pearson said by way of explanation.

"How absolutely fortuitous."

Arthur, Charlotte and Karen finally boarded the train. They found seats near each other, Karen sitting in a spot directly in front of them.

As the train started moving, Charlotte seemed distracted, lost in thought as she gazed out the window.

"You okay?"

"Hmm?" She turned from her view and offered him a smile. "Yes, Arthur. I'm alright."

Nothing in her demeanor told him she was unsettled or worried over anything so he took her word for it and tried to relax.

It was good to see that Pearson had landed on his feet and to have Karen here. Least he was getting another chance to help her. Charles and Sadie were hopefully still thriving. Maybe some of the others got out just fine too.

Arthur wondered what Marston was up to, if he was treating Abigail and Jack to a decent Christmas, if they was celebrating together with gifts and full bellies. It was a vision he wanted to be real and since there was no proof otherwise, it was the image he chose to accept as truth.