"All I'm saying..." Hosea shifted in the saddle of his mount Silver Dollar. "...is we need to start learning from our mistakes. And this ain't that."

Dutch, riding beside him on The Count, scoffed at the suggestion. "We ain't making a mistake with this, Hosea. He controls the whole goddamn city. Getting him out of the way is necessary to the plan."

He kept saying that, but Hosea didn't think Dutch even knew what he wanted to do with Bronte. Ransom him? That was not something they'd ever done before. That was for criminals worse than them even. Killing him in cold blood? They'd fallen far, if that was the case and it went against what they'd once stood for.

All in all, messing with Bronte had only become part of the plan when he'd insulted Dutch. "I don't think it's a good idea."

Dutch clearly wanted to continue the argument, but he closed his mouth at the sight of a rider just ahead of them, holding a lantern to light up the trail.

They remained silent together until Dutch asked of the lone rider, "Is that Arthur?"

Hosea leaned forward, squinting his eyes. "Looks to be."

"How about we let him have the deciding vote?" Dutch asked before continuing scornfully, "Does that sound fair to you, Hosea?"

Resigned, he nodded. "Fine."

"Arthur!"

The man turned in his saddle and slowed when he saw who it was. Dutch quickly rode up to greet him first, likely intending to persuade Arthur before Hosea got a word in edgewise. He heard Dutch say they needed his opinion on a matter.

When Hosea reached them, Arthur glanced between him and Dutch and asked warily, "'Bout what?"

Dutch said, "We take an insult and scurry off like cockroaches or deal with business the right way?"

Hosea put in quickly, "We don't need to take revenge. We hardly know the guy."

Dutch went on his tangent, laying out all the arguments Hosea had been listening to for the past three days. That it wasn't personal, that they had to do it in order to successfully rob the bank, that it'd be an easy and quick job.

Hosea studied Arthur while he waited for Dutch to finish. The boy looked like he hadn't slept in days, his beard was growing out and unkempt, his eyes red and he must've been in some scrape or another. Recent, too. That wasn't unusual, but he seemed distracted. Nowhere near in the mindset for deciding anything, let alone something as catastrophic as possibly murdering a man in cold blood.

When Dutch finished his presentation, Hosea argued, "I disagree. There's always an easier way."

"There ain't no easier way." At that point, Dutch got into his speech, claiming it was the only way to get out of the area. "You wanna leave this place? Leave this country? We need that money."

Hosea shifted in his saddle again, uncomfortable. "It just don't feel good, Dutch."

Dutch continued to make his case and Hosea proceeded to argue with him. He didn't understand why they'd want to anger anyone else right now. Maybe he'd be more on board if they didn't have the Pinkertons on their tail, if they had even one less foe to keep track of.

Finally, Hosea got fed up with Dutch trying to convince him of something he didn't see no point in. Especially when he was going on with some nonsense about farming mangoes.

Hosea said sarcastically, "Forgive me if I can't think too much about the mango harvest—"

"This is it." Dutch glared at him and appealed to Arthur. "Trust me, Arthur."

Arthur had been quiet through the entire discussion. He wasn't a great thinker, that boy, but he was an excellent listener. The problem was he hated disappointing Dutch more than anything.

That's why Hosea wasn't surprised any when Arthur eventually nodded and said, "If it's business, well, business is business."

The victory in Dutch's smug grin was too much for Hosea to see. He turned away and said bitterly, "You'll damn us all."

Dutch tugged the reins of The Count and invited, "Arthur, come on."

"Now?" Arthur's eyes panned in the direction of Shady Belle, which was just beyond the trees.

"'Course, now." Dutch's frustration resurfaced once more. "You losing your nerve too?"

"No," Arthur responded defensively. "Just...wanted to get cleaned up is all."

Dutch shook his head. "Where we're going, you won't want to have a bath until after."

He seemed reluctant, but Arthur turned his horse to follow willingly enough. "And where's that?"

"Lagras," Dutch said as they started riding away. "We need to go see a man about a boat."

Hosea rubbed his face and sighed over the whole ordeal. He didn't like butting heads with Dutch and it seemed to be happening more frequently than ever. But only because Dutch was hardly taking his advice anymore.

Along with lawmen, death had been on Hosea's tail for some time. That's why it pained him to see Dutch pulling reckless jobs left and right. Hosea was at a point in his life where he should be settling down and running small scams. Or better yet, in possession of money to last the rest of his life.

Which, admittedly, wouldn't be much longer if these old lungs had any say in it. They kept him up at night these days and they were lead holding him down most mornings. He struggled to breathe throughout the day more and more.

As he rode into camp, he nodded at Bill and Javier, who both seemed to be on guard duty.

"Hola, Hosea," greeted Javier. "Where's Dutch?"

The last conversation still at the top of his mind, Hosea grumbled, "Out chasing trouble and worsening our situation."

Javier and Bill exchanged glances and Hosea realized he sounded unreasonable and disgruntled right now.

"Sorry, fellas. This old man needs some rest." As if that's all it would take for him to see Dutch's ideas as anything less than irrational.

Hosea wished for simpler times again, when they were in and out with quick, snappy scams and had fun doing it. Those days were over.

Returning to camp warmed his cold heart. But it worried him just the same. He'd long wanted to get everyone taken care of before he passed, but it didn't seem like it was going to happen anytime soon.

It seemed like most folk had turned in early, which was just as well. Hosea felt pain in his knees as he dismounted, a sure tell for rain sometime tonight. A few were gathered around the fire, Pearson, Uncle and Charles. Everyone else must be asleep or wanted to be left alone. No Micah in sight, which was a blessing because Hosea didn't think he could stand the sight of that contrary bastard right now.

Hosea readied for bed, lit a lantern and tried to read, but it couldn't distract him from the pain of his lungs today. Too much riding the last few days between here and Saint Denis.

He eventually gave up on his book. He laid in bed and closed his eyes, the image of his precious Bessie surfacing as it did every night. He sighed. It brought no solace tonight, only regret for things that couldn't be changed.

As Hosea lay there, failing to fall asleep, he heard the floorboards creak above him. He opened his eyes, thinking he was mistaken and it had been another part of the house when they creaked again.

Arthur's was the room above, but he was off with Dutch on his goose chase. No one should be up there, especially creeping around at this time of night. He sat up, putting on his boots and grabbing a gun just in case.

Now, he'd admit to hearing all kinds of strange noises in this area, odd sounds especially at this time of night. But Arthur's room was usually quiet. The little he was at camp, he used his room for sleeping and changing and that was about it.

Hosea glanced at John's door at the top of the stairs, more worries rising. He'd been happy little Jack was getting on well after his mishap, but remained mostly sad over it because he didn't think the boy should be here at all. He'd tried to hint at John to take Abigail and Jack out of the gang when they'd landed in Horseshoe. John had refused to listen, all wrapped up in blind loyalty that would mean nothing when they were all dead.

If Bessie had ever...well. If there'd been children involved, Hosea woulda never thought twice about coming back to this damned life and that was the truth. As the years went by, he saw more and more that he shouldn't've come back either way, even with the good times. Least, he should've waited 'til Bessie had passed. He'd missed precious years with her that he could never get back.

As he grew older, the regrets he had weren't the jobs he wished he'd taken risks on, but the people he'd wished he'd taken time with. That's why it lightened his heart to see John taking the right steps with Abigail and the boy. Even if they both got frustrated with each other more often than not.

Movement in Arthur's room had Hosea remembering what he was doing up here in the first place. Cautiously, he pressed his ear against the door and heard...humming. Feminine humming. Swanson's incessant mention of ghosts sprang to his mind.

Hosea jerked the door open, half expecting an apparition of some sort due to his silly musings.

The woman who spun around was the farthest thing from a spirit as he'd ever seen. What did we have here? Clear as day, a live, breathing woman. More akin to an angel, if anything, with the wide innocence in her eyes.

Question was, what the hell was she doing in the center of an outlaw camp?

Startled at finding a woman he didn't recognize, Hosea slipped into courtesy over accusation. "Pardon the intrusion, ma'am."

Her hand rested on her chest. "That's quite alright, Mr...?"

"Matthews," he provided for her. "But Hosea will do fine."

"Mrs. Charlotte Balfour, sir," she offered freely. "I'm a friend of Arthur's."

Odd sort of creature to be here right now. And her claim to knowing Arthur confused him further. "I can't say there's ever been a time I've found a woman in Arthur's room, tent or bedroll."

Usually, he kept those kinds of women away from camp. Since Mary Gillis, Arthur hadn't brought a woman around. The boy seemed to have given up on attachments. It was for the best, in this kind of life. However, the woman in front of him didn't seem to fit into the category of a casual, physical indulgence.

"Truth be told," Hosea continued, "when I heard footsteps, I was expecting to find a specter of some sort."

"I didn't mean to disturb you." At his polite words, her shaken expression cleared. "And I'm truly sorry to disappoint you on your possible supernatural sighting."

He thought he detected amusement in her tone and answered, "Alas, it remains a mystery, Mrs. Balfour."

"Charlotte, please." She crinkled her nose. "It does seem a strange sort of place for formalities, after all."

Testing the waters, he asked, "Among outlaws?"

Humor lit her eyes rather than confusion. "I meant near a swamp, but I suppose that applies. Although, I'll have to take your word for it. I don't have any other outlaws to properly compare you."

She charmed him, despite his wariness at her presence. Innocent, he decided, but not ignorant. Now he was intrigued enough to ask questions.

Inconveniently, at that moment a string of coughs took hold of his lungs and prevented his next words.

Charlotte wordlessly guided him to the chair before he could tell her he was fine. Soon after, he found himself with a cup of water in his hands.

When he caught his breath, he waved her off. "Just...old lungs."

His chest was heaving up and down, more strenuous an action than it should be. He wheezed, attempting to catch his breath in front of her.

"Would you mind staying for a game of cribbage?" Charlotte opened a drawer to the side table and pulled out a board and a deck of cards. "Tilly brought this up for me, but I can't exactly play it without another person."

Hosea eyed her, knowing what she was doing. She meant to distract him, to humor an old fool. She returned his stare, waiting patiently for his answer.

Finally, he relented. "Dominoes is more my game, but I reckon I can manage a round or two."

As they set the board up on the floor and she began to deal the first hand, Hosea asked her what he'd been intending before his fit. "So, how do you come to find yourself in this particularly unpleasant neck of the woods?"

"I've been terribly sick the last couple of days." Her brows scrunched up. "At least, I think that's all it's been. I was unconscious for a lot of the time."

"That'll do it." He started the game by laying a card down.

"It's also difficult to keep track of time out here." She placed her own card. "Much different from everyday life in Chicago."

A city girl, huh? "And where does young Arthur fit into all of this?"

She was silent a moment, whether that was because she was mulling over the game or what she cared to share, he couldn't tell. Finally, she said softly, "He showed me kindness when I needed it the most. Just enough to help me gain confidence in living alone."

Her admission surprised him as much as it pleased him. Hosea didn't know any of them that still helped folks in need. Had been a long time since Dutch had led them that way.

"Didn't know Arthur still held steady to that specific moral code."

"You and he are close, aren't you?" she asked, watching him.

He raised a brow. "How'd you guess?"

"Arthur keeps a picture of you, himself and another man there in the cabinet."

Hosea glanced over. "I'm surprised he still carries that. None of us are quite so youthful and handsome anymore."

"I wouldn't say that." She collected the cards and handed them over for his deal with a smile. "Polite society might describe you as 'distinguished'."

"Is that so?" He chuckled a little. "I'll take your word for it."

"Well, it's certainly more pleasing than 'old maid', which is what I'm referred to at this stage in my life."

"An unfair notion, to be sure."

"Maybe you'll answer me this." She met his eyes. "What kinds of crime does this gang get up to?"

Hosea wasn't sure she wanted to hear that. So, he said evasively, "If this tells you anything, the last I heard there was there's a $5,000 reward on Arthur alone."

She frowned. "For what exactly?"

"You sure you're wanting to know, ma'am?" he asked her.

She stared at him a moment before admitting, "Perhaps not."

He leaned back and nodded. Probably for the best.

"However," she added, "my ignorance of it doesn't change its existence, does it?"

"No, it does not." He studied her. "Why do you think Arthur brought you here?"

"As far as I know, he thought this the safest place." She cocked her head. "We'd know for sure if you merely asked him."

Hosea chuckled. "I suppose you're right." A proper lady she may be, but she had some spitfire to her.

Hosea almost felt human again, gabbing to her about little things. After all the running, arguing, worry and bloodshed, making small talk and playing cards with a lovely woman was a welcome break. He'd nearly forgotten how to have a small amount of fun.

Charlotte made him feel at ease, near as at peace in his mind as when he'd been in the presence of Bessie. She had the same calming quality to her nature.

A slammed door could be heard from downstairs, followed by boots stomping up and marching across the hall, ending with another door crashing closed.

Charlotte stared at the closed door. "Oh, my. Now who was that?"

"Sounded like our esteemed leader of this outfit."

She frowned. "Has he no regard for anyone else this late at night?"

"Let's just say, subtlety isn't Dutch's strong suit. Especially of late."

She raised a brow. "Dutch, is it?"

"I see his infamy proceeds him. Been a significant problem as of late." Hosea sighed. "I regret my rudeness and cutting this game short, but I'd better see if I can tame the bear."

"It's just as well." She sent a smile his way. "I'm certain you were about to best me here."

"Thank you for the game, ma'am."

Charlotte stood as he did. She bit her lip and unexpectedly placed a hand on his arm. "Before you go, I have a question."

He waited, curious.

"Will Arthur be in any sort of trouble for bringing me here?"

Hosea's brows rose at her anxiety. Perhaps there was some interest in Arthur on her side of things after all.

"As far as I'm concerned, no. There'll be no trouble, ma'am. You stay on as long as you need."

"As long as I'm no burden to any of you."

He said honestly, "If anything, you'll be a ray of sunshine in these dreary times."

She crinkled her nose. "Oh, none of that flattery now."

He patted her arm. "You take care and I'll see you tomorrow."

"Rest well, Mr. Matthews," Her eyes twinkled. "Because I expect a rematch."

Hosea smiled to himself. What a pleasant, high-spirited woman Arthur had found. He didn't think she'd stay, but she'd be a welcome addition around the fire if she did. Reminded him of the positive influence Jenny had had around here. A smile from her used to brighten the moodiest of bastards.

Hosea found Dutch on the balcony pacing angrier than a bull. "What's going on?"

"I just got done talkin' to Bill," Dutch vented. "Trelawny and Molly are gone. For good. They left us, Hosea."

Somehow, it didn't surprise him. Josiah never stuck around when it got too hot for them and Molly had been suffering for months. Even Dutch had to see that. "If that's what they need to do to feel safe, I don't see anything wrong with it. We should be surprised it ain't happened sooner when all's said and done."

His words only seemed to enrage Dutch further. "Nothing wrong with it? Those two abandoned us. They..." a dark glitter came into his eyes that had Hosea uneasy. "...betrayed us."

Feeling soreness in his bones, Hosea took a seat. "They were likely just afraid, Dutch. You can't blame them for that. We've seen more death than life these past few months. The law's on us, Pinkertons are involved and now O'Driscolls are dropping our friends' bodies at our doorstep."

Dutch wasn't listening to him, but looking out at the camp like he was trying to detect the next person to double cross him.

Hosea stood to get his attention. "Listen, Dutch. We still got those who's most important. Arthur, John, Javier, Bill, Charles..."

"Micah."

Hosea wouldn't have included that wild bastard on his own list, but if it got that unnerving look out of his eyes, then sure.

"Once we do this bank job, we'll be on track for good."

Dutch turned to face him as his expression changed to excitement. "You ready to start planning it out?"

Hosea said, "I told you I'm all for it if the information's solid. I'm waiting on the last of Karen, Abigail and Tilly's take on the guard situation. After that, we're set."

Dutch nodded. "And what about this woman Arthur's told me about? What am I supposed to do with that?"

So Arthur already told him. Hosea scratched his nose. "I've been talking with her. I'll speak with Arthur about it in the morning. Seems like, it ain't nothing more sinister than Arthur doing a good deed for someone."

"Maybe." There was something odd in his look. "You don't think Arthur's wavering?"

"Arthur's got our backs, Dutch," Hosea said firmly, confidently. "He always has. You don't have to worry there. Once he takes Mrs. Balfour home, everything will go back to normal."

Finally, Dutch's expression settled into the competent leader he was used to. It worried Hosea that it'd taken so long for Dutch to come down from his anger this time, but he couldn't ignore that it had.

"If the girls' information is good, we can head out tomorrow or the next for the bank job."

"Thanks, Hosea." Dutch rested a hand on his shoulder. "But you know I have to take care of this Bronte problem before we can proceed."

Hosea frowned. He still didn't think they should stir up anything else in Saint Denis, aside from hitting the bank, but Dutch couldn't be moved.

"Now, I'm going to get some much needed sleep." Dutch stretched. "I suggest you do the same. We have much to discuss in the morning."

Hosea left Dutch's room, all his misgivings and worry resurfacing in full force. Dutch not taking his word on Arthur's loyalty wasn't a good sign.

Arthur had done right in helping Charlotte. It proved the boy had the moral compass Hosea had feared might not exist anymore.

Arthur'd done right, but he shouldn't have brought Charlotte to Shady Belle.