Witch's Ridge comes into view as the sun begins to rise, slowly lightening the shadows of the night. Arthur can see hints of the gang's presence now too, the rising thin column of smoke from a campfire and a moderately visible trail leading from the road into the thick woods. They're still far enough that guards most likely shouldn't have seen them. It's also early enough that none of the gang members should ride out yet either.
"Let's go, if we're fast and quiet, we can attack with most of them still asleep." Arthur doubts that the gang is going to be up and about already - aside from the guards and maybe whoever early risers are in camp. Most should still be asleep.
"We should split, two of us going around the other side." Sadie adds in a quiet rasp. "Pick them off from two sides."
"Alright. Let's go." Arthur grabs his rifle from Storm's saddle. Together, they head into the woods, horses left behind, keeping low and their feet quiet with only the gentle rustle of leaves giving their presence away.
Once the camp comes into view, Sadie and Lenny break off to the side, while Arthur stays with Charles. They're still very careful, keeping an eye out for guards. Charles spots a man standing farther away, keeping watch and with a quick signal, leaves, swift and silent. Arthur watches as he sneaks up on the man and there is a quick movement, a slash of a knife. Charles keeps the man from just dropping like a heavy sack, grabbing him and lowering him slowly instead to avoid making noise. Arthur exhales slow and quiet when Charles is at his side again, giving him a curt, serious nod.
They carefully observe the camp for a moment longer. Eight people are awake and a bit farther to the side, so well hidden he only catches it because he knows they're there, he sees Sadie and Lenny moving amongst the bushes, getting ready to slip into some of the tents and take out those still asleep.
Arthur eyes the five awake and recognizes one of them as William Jamison. The first thing Arthur notices actually, is that the man is covered in scars, which is pretty easy to see considering he's currently walking around without a shirt. There are knife scars at his side and on his arms, two bullet scars, one in his shoulder and one on his hip at his back. His back and shoulders carry thick scars, like slashes, and for a brief moment, Arthur seriously wonders just where he got all of them. Jamison kind of looks like the survivor of three maulings, a bloody shoot-out and two vicious stabbings. Aside from that though and considering his face, he looks like one mean bastard, even the grin he gives his one of his men has something mocking and condescending to it.
Arthur waits until he sees Sadie and Lenny slip into the first two tents and then does the same with one of the few tents on their side. From the corner of his eye, he catches sight of Charles moving to another tent as well. Arthur lightly moves the slit of the canvas, rifle over his shoulder and knife in hand, just enough to see that the two men inside are definitely still asleep, one even muffling his snores into his flat pillow.
Pulling out one of the tent pegs so he can move the flap enough to slip inside, Arthur is careful to be slow and quietly. His heartbeat even seems quieter, not as rushing in his ears and his senses are sharpened, as he listens to the crunch of boots outside the tent and the breathing of the two men inside.
Arthur moves towards the quieter of the two. He knows how to kill quickly, though he very rarely gets opportunities or chances like this. Most of his fights were shootouts and brawls, or fending off someone who carried a knife. It's rarely something like this, slipping towards someone asleep like some kind of murderer in the night.
The guy dies quickly, his eyes flying open and Arthur already presses a hand over his mouth, muffling his noise to a quiet gurgle, half lifted hands flopping back down lifelessly. Quickly glancing over his shoulder, Arthur swivels on his feet just as the snores cut off. He kills the other guy a little sloppier, but he has to be quick before he wakes up - their kind always wakes up when their subconscious registers trouble. He muffles the guy's noises as well, though the man manages to scratch at his wrist for a moment, before he grows sluggish and then still and quiet, face graying as his chest lays still.
Exhaling, Arthur slides his knife free, blood slicking his fingers and clinging to the blade. He grabs a discarded sock from one of the men and wipes the red away as well and fast as he can. A few drops fall and trail on the ground and Arthur keeps a sharp ear out for any approaching steps, letting the sock fall and slipping out of the tent. He sees Lenny doing the same a bit further away, catches a small glimpse of red dampening the kid's cream colored sleeve. Lenny gives him a grim nod.
A sudden crash , followed by a loud shout in front of Arthur makes him jerk, shoving away his knife and slinging the rifle from his back in one quick motion. Shit, that went quicker than expected, but at least they got a few without having to fight.
His heartbeat picks up pace and he casts a quick glance around. There is a furious, rough yell that he would recognize anywhere, a tent getting ripped open as Sadie half tumbles, half rolls out, a body falling with her, her knife stuck in the man's chest. Her hat gets lost and for a brief second, Arthur catches a glimpse of her furious face, bared teeth and sparking eyes. Her shoulders square and her feet plant firmly on the ground as she rises to her feet, bringing up her revolver in the same breath, shooting as she throws herself behind a crate.
His cover is shit. Arthur runs and throws himself into a slide, coming to a stop behind a crate of his own, bullets whizzing past, splintering wood and tearing through the canvas of the tent beside him.
"Everyone alright?" Lenny yells over the chaos breaking out, of men shouting, others waking up. Arthur's thoughts briefly snap to Charles and that he can't see him, doesn't know where he is, before he has to focus.
Taking out two of the guys is almost comparatively easy, considering they seem to decide on Sadie as the bigger threat and turn their sides to him. Arthur's a quick and secure shot and he keeps his rifle in good condition. Two headshots and they crumble in a spray of blood, their guns clattering to the ground.
Jamison is gone, Arthur can't see him, right until he emerges from behind a wagon at the side, two revolvers drawn. Arthur has to duck down with a curse as the guy fires, his men quickly flanking him and fanning out beside him, firing as well. Jamison has long legs and an even longer stride. Arthur gets one shot in, in-between bullets fired at him, before the man already vaults over his crate and slams against him. Only the quick throwing up of his rifle keeps Arthur from being shot in the chest or the head, as he manages to push the man's hands aside enough that his guns turn askew, the last two bullets in his revolvers tearing through canvas and slamming into the ground.
Jamison drops them in the next moment and Arthur catches the manic glint in his eyes, pupils blown so wide they almost swallow the pale green color if his irises entirely.
"Gonna carve you up, pretty boy." Jamison snarls at him, eyes nearly black. "Make somethin' real nice outta you!"
His hand closes around Arthur's rifle as they wrestle, his other falls away and Arthur is just a second too slow to stop him from pulling a knife. The slash and burn of the weapon against his arm is sharp and blooms bright in his mind. With a fast, strong wrench that seems to involve his whole body, Arthur slams the rifle sideways, smacking Jamison against his temple and wresting the man off of him.
Jamison is quick to kick out and Arthur hears someone shooting, notices the wood of the crate beside him splintering. Jamison comes at him with the knife again and Arthur barely has enough room for another shot with his rifle, hitting the guy in the leg.
He doesn't seem to feel it, if anything, he now lunges for him. Arthur blocks the slash of the knife with the rifle, Jamison ducking under his shove in the next moment, sliding so low so fast, even as Arthur jumps back, he still feels the bite of the knife above his knee. Kicking out, he gets Jamison in the face, the guy falling backwards.
Breathing heavily, Arthur quickly falls back a step, almost getting tripped up by the tent behind him, as he aims the rifle dead on the man's head. It's gotten quiet now, no further shots falling from the others.
"Now, drop the knife." He grinds out, slightly out of breath. Jamison's low giggle turns into a dark chuckle as he slowly sits up again, blood dripping down his chin from a split lip and pouring from a nose that's clearly broken.
Something about him immediately sets Arthur on edge. Maybe it's the easy roll of his still bare shoulders, maybe the way he moves as if he doesn't have a bullet lodged in his leg, as he slowly gets to his feet. Grinning so mockingly Arthur wants to kick him again, Jamison lazily raises his hands and lets the hunting knife slip from his fingers, the weapon hitting the ground with a dull thud.
Sadie limps into view then, though it looks as if she walks steadier with every step. Her front is covered in blood and a few strands of hair have fallen out of her braid. There is some seething bloodlust left in her gaze, giving her a dark and dangerous look.
"Tie him up." Arthur says, keeping his rifle aimed unerringly on Jamison. He's not taking chances with this guy. "An' watch out. Rat has somethin' up his sleeve."
At this Jamison grins near wickedly, lifting his hands slightly as if to display his current shirtless state and empty palms. The wanted poster says they can bring him in dead too and Arthur seriously contemplates it for a moment. Sadie is there a second later, tying Jamison up with fast, rough movements. She's probably pulling the rope too tight as well, or, at least Arthur really hopes she does.
"Lenny and Charles?" He asks her as she finishes and she presses her lips together for a moment.
"They're fine." She rasps out.
Arthur feels himself exhale with quiet relief. Sadie shoves Jamison forward, who now stares at her as if he's contemplating the best way of skinning her. Arthur feels tempted to shoot him in the other leg. Or maybe the head.
Lenny and Charles join them in the middle of the camp, dead gang members and overturned pots and tidbits littered about. Jamison gets shoved down and his feet tied up, before they whistle for their horses. As their horses find them and Sadie guards Jamison, Arthur quickly sweeps the camp, seeing Charles do the same while Lenny joins Sadie, rifle at ease.
They find nearly a hundred bucks and some valuables to sell later. Arthur bags it all - they might need it and the more money they have for the ranch, the better - when Charles approaches him.
"You're hurt." Charles motions at the cut on his arm and above his knee. "Need anything?"
"It's shallow." Arthur answers. He barely feels the burn of the injuries over his still alert senses and the way he keeps glancing back at Jamison. "But yeah, you have any bandages with you?"
"Sure." Charles gives him a nod. Arthur moves to lean against a crate, digging out some alcohol to pour over his wounds, while Charles pulls two bandages from his bag.
"Want me to help?" He asks and Arthur hesitates a second, before he nods. Charles passes on one bandage and picks up the alcohol once Arthur has cleaned out the cut on his leg as well as he can, hissing slightly at the sting, before he wraps the cut.
He then holds still as Charles gently grasps his arm, pushing back the sleeve far enough to expose the cut, blood already caking on the cut. It is shallow enough, Jamison thankfully never got a good enough angle for anything deep, or at least anything deep enough that required stitches.
Charles is quick while cleaning the cut. He takes a moment to inspect it, before wrapping the bandage around it. It's easy to tell how much experience Charles has with those things, the bandage not too tight or too lose. It makes Arthur exhale silently, his shoulders relaxing a bit and something in his chest easing.
"Alright, all done." Charles murmurs, carefully tugging Arthur's sleeve down again. His eyes flick up from the task and Arthur realizes how close they're standing. Charles's head is almost bumping against the brim or Arthur's hat.
"You done?" Sadie yells her question. "If not, I can kick this bastard around a little."
Arthur finds himself huffing, catching a brief quirk of Charles's mouth as well. The man stays close to him when they return to Sadie and Lenny, who definitely look ready to go.
Charles hauls Jamison up, who's staying quiet, while Lenny already mounts his horse. Sadie swings up into the saddle as well, while Charles deposits Jamison on Storm, who noses at Arthur with a quiet rumble.
"Alright, Jamison." Arthur says as he swings up into the saddle. "Let's get you to the sheriff."
"Sheriff Theodore Stanley." Jamison says the name like half a curse and half a challenge, rolling the name on his tongue as if he wishes to slowly gut him. Arthur can hear the grin in his voice too and wonders just how deranged the man is. "Old but persistent. Wrinkly skin is always harder to carve."
"Just punch him." Sadie growls. "He'll shut up eventually."
They ride out of camp, with Arthur being loosely flanked by Lenny and Charles, while Sadie rides ahead. They have quite a way ahead of them, but they all agree on just riding on until they reach town. They should be there by evening, most likely, if they ride fast enough.
Things become mostly quiet between them and Jamison too, doesn't say a word. It strikes Arthur as odd, folks usually try to bargain or threaten or cajole. Right up until halfway back and there is a sudden shift and movement behind him. With a snap of rope and a lurch Jamison snatches Arthur's right revolver from its holster and rolls off of Storm's rear, smacking to the ground and rolling to face them in a smooth motion, even if he can't get up entirely with his tied feet. Arthur is shouting before he quite realizes it, drawing his gun.
Jamison is shooting at them the next moment, bullets whizzing past and there is the sudden chaos and heavy slam of a horse going down, along with a cut off yell. They're shooting back at Jamison and it takes two bullets in the chest, before he finally goes down, revolver dropping from his hand. Breathing heavily, Arthur immediately jumps out of the saddle, Storm quickly rushing to the side of the road and out of the way. Jamison is still breathing when Arthur reaches him and he grits his teeth, as he takes back his gun and ties the guy up once more, flipping him on his front roughly.
"Got me good." Jamison wheezes out, but it looks like this time, he really won't fight back no more. A quick look around shows Arthur a small, curved blade, reminding him of a silver claw, lying on the ground. Jamison must have hidden it and he got it out to cut his ties once they relaxed their guard enough not to watch him too closely.
Whirling around, he sees Lenny, back and side covered with dirt, who tries to calm Maggie, as she fights to her feet. The kid worriedly checks her shoulder, blood darkening the mare's light fur.
"Shit, she alright?" Arthur asks, hurrying over, while Charles already joins Lenny to inspect the injury. For a moment, as Lenny looks at him, he looks distraught and young, before his face firms and he keeps a steadying hand on Maggie's neck.
"I don't know." He says, voice shaky and then gently hushes and comforts her as she stands there, tense, visibly upset and in pain. Lenny watches closely as Charles carefully inspects the wound and then holds onto Maggie's reins when Charles asks him to. He's fast when getting the bullet out, a new wave of blood running down Maggie's leg and she flinches and jerks, jumping away and dragging Lenny, before she holds still once more, breathing going fast.
"Easy girl, easy. That's it, you're doing so well." Lenny soothes her, petting her neck and eyeing her wound.
"As long as we can stop the bleeding, she won't need stitches. Horses can lose what looks like a lot of blood, but I'd like to avoid it as much as possible." Charles says, giving her a calming pat, while Maggie eyes him cautiously.
Arthur is more than alright with leaving Jamison face down in the dirt, most likely bleeding out, while they take care of Maggie. Sadie takes to guarding them after giving Lenny's shoulder a reassuring pat.
"She'll be alright." Arthur tells him quietly as Lenny presses down on the wound with a darkening cloth and Arthur keeps Maggie still, gently petting her, while Charles rummages through his saddlebags. "She's a tough one."
"Yeah." Lenny still sounds a little shaky, but also determined, as he keeps his gaze focused on the cloth he keeps pressed to Maggie's shoulder. Still, something about hearing it seems to help him a bit and he looks a little less tense, a little comforted perhaps. Arthur hopes so.
Still, the wait is tense and Sadie once wanders over to Jamison, asking if she should just shoot him in the head, confirming that he's still regretfully alive. Finally, Charles asks Lenny to carefully remove the cloth. They're all quiet as he looks at the wound and then gives Lenny a small nod, the kid's shoulders sagging at once. Arthur too exhales with relief and he sees some of the lines in Sadie's face easing.
"She should pull through." Charles gives Maggie's back a comforting pat. Her breathing thankfully has slowed down again. "Still, you have to take it easy. No riding and walk slow. When you're back home, put her in the stable, get her taken care of and let her rest."
"I'll stay with you, if you want." Sadie offers. "You guys can bring this sack o' shit back meanwhile."
"Thank you." Lenny says, though it's more spoken on an exhale and he looks exhausted for a moment, before he pulls himself together again. "I appreciate it."
Sadie gives him a nod and a small pat on the shoulder.
"Alright, I'll bring Jamison back." Arthur says and then glances at Charles. "Want to come with me?"
"Sure. Better be safe than sorry with these guys." Charles gives Maggie's shoulder one last look before stepping back from her. They walk over to Jamison who is, to Arthur's surprise and displeasure, still alive.
Hauling him upright and ignoring his wheezing sounds, Arthur throws him over Storm's back. He'll have to brush the blood out of her fur later, he decides as he pats down Jamison's pockets to ensure he doesn't have another knife hidden somewhere. Charles whistles for Taima, who had kept a careful distance. She's quick to join them, snorting softly at Charles's shoulder and he gives her neck a reassuring scratch, before getting into the saddle.
"Let's turn him in." Arthur says, the leather of the saddle creaking slightly as he sinks into it. "Let's hope he dies on the way."
While Arthur very much could just put a bullet into Jamison's head, at the same time, a part of him wants to see him swing. Wants the man to stand there, with the noose around his neck and know and feel that he'll die. The quickness of a bullet in the head might be too merciful, after everything. Even if Arthur probably has no right to judge another outlaw like that, at least he never did things as depraved and cruel as Jamison.
Charles and he are quiet on the ride and Arthur notices how Charles rides just half a pace slower, so he's beside Jamison, keeping an eye on the guy. Jamison is quiet though, not even wriggling. Probably bleeding out over Storm's rear and he might really be dead by the time they reach town. Arthur keeps the speed brisk, pushing his horse just a bit. He really wants to deliver Jamison and be rid of him. He also really wants to get back home and check up on everyone, see if Lenny and Sadie made it back by then too.
The sun is setting over the town when they reach it, dark shadows stretching and lengthening to melt into each other like long lost lovers and sliding over the ground, slithering up walls and turning the forests into murky twilight filled with blackish shapes.
Jamison is still alive when they reach the sheriff's office and Arthur thinks he understands how the guy is scarred up this much. He just seems to really refuse to die.
"We're here." Arthur grumbles as they stop and he slides off the saddle, Charles dismounting beside him. Arthur grabs Jamison and throws him over his shoulder, grimacing slightly at the sticky sensation of blood. While he's kind of used to it and it certainly isn't the first time he has blood seeping into his clothes, something about it being Jamison's is repulsive. "Let's get rid of this rat bastard."
Sheriff Stanley is still in when Charles steps in first and holds the door open for Arthur. The man looks surprised and then grimly satisfied at seeing Jamison.
"You got him." There is relief and something dark and steely in his voice. Arthur unwittingly feels his gaze drawn to the scar at the side of the man's neck. Stanley has his sleeves rolled up too, so Arthur can see another two scars on his lower left arm, looking like they originated from a knife. "Put him in the cell there."
Stanley makes a low noise once Arthur deposits the man as roughly as he knows on the prison bed, his eyes resting on the bleeding wounds. "Looks like he was trouble for you."
"You don't know half of it." Arthur cranes his head to give his shoulder a quick glance, feeling dismay at just how much of the blood managed to get on him. "The bounty hunters are dead, in case you wanted to look for them."
"I feared as much." They all know who to blame for those deaths. The sheriff's voice, when he speaks up again, sounds as cold as the iron of his prison bars and his gaze is unerringly pinned on Jamison. "He'll most likely survive those wounds, he's kind of famous for being hard to kill. It should please you to know the gallows await him, a day after the livestock market. That's sadly the earliest I can get him hanged, if I don't want to shoot him out back and throw him to the wolves."
"Well, if you do, we won't tell." Arthur says and while it sounds like he might be joking, he's sure Stanley knows he's entirely serious. Charles merely nods, shifting to stand a bit more firmly. Something about it makes a pinched tightness between Arthur's shoulders relax a little.
Stanley looks at them, solemn and honest. "Thank you, for catching him. Here, let me give you the money."
With that, he steps behind his desk and crouches to reach for one of the lower drawers, rummaging around. It takes a little before he straightens again, though considering Jamison's bounty, it wouldn't surprise Arthur if he kept the money locked away.
"You've done this town a real service. And all the folks living around here." The sheriff says as he hands Arthur the money.
"Our home too." Arthur murmurs the reminder and a brief, small smile flits over Stanley's face. The sheriff tilts his head in respectful understanding.
"Of course. It will be good to have you folks around. Don't hesitate to come by if there is anything we can help you with. Or if you want to pick up another bounty, should one come in. Though, to be honest, I rather hope that won't happen. At least not for a while."
"Sure." Arthur throws the man a short half salute. "Good night, sheriff."
They step out of the sheriff's office and simultaneously exhale, though Arthur thinks his is more audible. He tips his head up a bit, sighing. Charles beside him looks tired now, rubbing a hand over his face, before he straightens and reaches out. He gives Arthur's shoulder a warm squeeze, letting his hand rest there for a moment and Arthur consciously lets tension ease out of him, feeling tired as well now.
"Let's go home." Charles murmurs. "We should eat and then get some rest."
"Sure." Arthur reaches out to give his arm a gentle pat, carefully allowing his touch to linger. Charles gives him a glance, followed by a small smile, the gold of the sinking sun illuminating it and Arthur feels something in his chest ease, teasing a brief answering smile from him.
The ride home is a lot more relaxed and the silence isn't tense and carefully attentive, but comfortable and at ease. Their horses too seem to sense their moods, their gait calmer and looser. Arthur doesn't rush Storm and Charles seems to be in no real hurry now either. Still, when they reach the ranch, night spreading all around them and the sky filling with stars and constellations, Arthur breathes a sigh of relief. The lights of lit lanterns guide them and the stable is illuminated as well. Considering Arthur catches a glimpse of Bob with the other horses, Lenny is most likely with Maggie in the stable.
They're greeted by the others when they arrive, Hosea asks a few questions, while Kieran, voice and hands gentle but sure, takes the horses from them to take care of them. Arthur and Charles thank him, before Abigail and Karen bustle them into the main house so they can join dinner. They apparently wanted to wait for their return.
Arthur is positively surprised to step inside and see that everything is done now. The wallpaper is up, all the furniture stands. It looks like a real home now, there even are a few pictures and paintings on the wall. He even sees a larger photo of one of their gang days, even if looking at it gives him a pang.
A part of him secretly misses it a bit. He doesn't miss the danger and the deaths and how everything could have ended this time around if they had stayed. No, he misses what they once were. Years ago, when they really had been like a family. When he had two fathers and before he lost one to...Arthur isn't sure what exactly. Delusion? Madness? A mix of both? Something he doesn't really know or understand?
He's drawn out of his thoughts quickly enough again, Sadie joining the retelling of their hunt for Jamison, while Arthur splits the money, Hosea taking Lenny's share to bring it to him and murmuring to Arthur that Maggie is taken care of should be alright. Good, that's good. Lenny certainly loves his little mare and losing her would hurt him.
By the time Arthur and Charles head to their home, he's tired. Tired from the last tense days ,the hunt, the fighting, the too little rest he got. When they reach their home, they see boxes outside, along with their furniture, though it's protected against potential rain by canvas spread over it. Right, they hadn't been there to get everything done.
Stepping inside, they find the rolls of wallpaper on the ground beside the door. Arthur feels glad and a soft sort of warmth at knowing that everything is here now, but he's also in dire need of rest.
They once again spread their bedrolls on the ground, side by side again and maybe, just a bit closer to each other before. Arthur is pretty certain he doesn't imagine it, nor the look they cast each other when they do it. A small smile sneaks on his face when he looks back down.
"Night." Charles murmurs when they lie down and Arthur sets his hat aside. "Sleep well."
"You too." Arthur mumbles back, eyes already slipping closed. "Night."
~*~
A part of Arthur thinks that one day, he might get to sleep in again. His eyes blink open and he stares up at the still kind-of-dark ceiling. The light that falls in from the windows has the sort of pale quality that means the sun is just starting to rise and there are one or two stars left in the sky.
It is a bit surprising though to see Charles still asleep. The man is quite the early riser and often enough, Arthur would wake up to Charles already taking care of chores. Moving his head to glance at him, Arthur feels the sudden urge, the itch in his fingers to sketch Charles like this. Face relaxed and at ease, something deeply calm along his features, the peaceful rise and fall of his chest, head slightly tilted sideways so a cheek is pushed into the pillow a bit.
As Arthur sits up thought, doing his best to be quiet, Charles stirs as well. It must be years of running on his own that make him react to folks moving around him. His eyes blink open, clearing within a second or two and moving to look at him.
"Mornin'." Arthur murmurs and feels the sudden, inexplicable urge to reach out and touch. Pat Charles's chest, or his arm, let his hand rest close to the other man's.
"Morning." Charles answers and sits up as well. "Sleep well?"
"Yeah." Arthur's gaze falls to the wallpaper and he motions at it. "I guess we know what we should do today."
Charles makes a small, agreeing noise. His hand gives Arthur's lower arm a pat, before getting to his feet. Arthur catches the way he stretches, a long line of muscles tensing and then relaxing, Charles brushing his hair back a moment later, slightly tousled from sleep.
Arthur feels a small smile on his face and grabs his hat, tipping his head down to hide it, before he stands up as well. Plopping the hat on, he gives a stretch as well.
They're both quiet as they get a quick morning wash in. Once that is done and they have eaten a quick breakfast, they stand in front of the wallpaper. Arthur once again realizes that he's never done any of this. Even with Eliza, he honestly didn't help her with her home - aside from once fixing a part of her roof and a wobbly chair - so this is all new to him. He really hopes he doesn't mess this up.
"We should get it worked out." Charles says calmingly, as though he could tell that Arthur's secretly a bit worried. It wouldn't surprise Arthur if he knew. Charles then holds up a note with a lopsided, slightly wry and mostly amused smile. "Besides, Hosea left us some instructions."
Arthur can't help but chuckle and then claps his hands. "Alright, let's get this done."
They need most of the time until noon to get the living room done, mostly because they work slowly, almost rip the wallpaper a few times and they do have a little mishap here and there in the corners, but they manage to smooth it over well enough that it isn't too obvious. Well as long as no one looks too close. Or is an expert at putting wallpaper up.
"That's decent enough." Charles says when they're done, the room smelling somewhat of the glue they used. It should air out soon enough though, with the widows they open. And it really does look sunny now, especially with the sunlight, bright and strong, that shines through the windows. The wood is of a light color and with the fireplace topping it off nicely, it's...it's honestly the best thing to Arthur. Once they have the furniture in it will be downright cozy.
He's only aware of having started smiling when Charles gently nudges his arm with his elbow and gives him a smile in return. "Come on, let's finish the rest."
By the time they're done with Charles's room, Arthur thinks they have the hang of it. Putting up the wallpaper is a much smoother process now that they have a bit of practice and they're better with corners too. Charles has a small, proud smile on his face when they're done and give the room a once over. Arthur entirely understands, he'll probably be close to grinning once they're done with his room.
"Let's eat something and then finish the rest." Charles suggests and they step outside, just in time to get called to the main house by Kieran, who waves them over to get food.
"If you need any help, let me know." Kieran offers with a small, shy smile and Arthur thinks that he looks genuinely at ease. There is some hay stuck to his sleeve, dust and horse hairs over the worn-down coat he kept for stable work and yeah, the kid looks happy. Arthur gives his shoulder a small pat and Kieran's smile gets a bit wider.
"Thanks, we'll let ya know if we do." He tells him and Charles nods with an agreeing hum.
They head inside, everyone else also filing into the house to get food. Arthur checks in with Lenny, who looks tired but no longer as worried, even smiling a bit as he says that Maggie is going to be alright and that she's a fast healer.
There is a bunch of chatter around them, talk about going to the livestock market at the end of the week to get the rest of the animals they wish to buy and where to put up more fields once they are handling the current one well enough. It makes Arthur smile, head ducked down a bit as he eats. Folks are happy here, he thinks. Sure, there is some exasperation and some of them are a bit frustrated with not picking up new skills fast enough, but they're still at ease. There is good-natured teasing and some laughter. They're home.
After lunch, Charles and Arthur get the last two rooms done, rather well too. Well, for beginners at least and Arthur thinks they really did a good job. Decent enough at the very least. He's fine, even satisfied with how the wallpaper turned out, so everything is okay in his books.
Getting up the drapes is a faster job compared to the wallpaper, even if they have to light some lanterns, considering it's growing dark now.
They bring the furniture inside afterwards. Spreading out the lanterns to ensure they see well enough. They bring stuff into the bathroom first and set it all up. It's going to be great to take regular baths without having to seek out a town. After that, they bring their stuff into their rooms, helping each other push everything into place, before they fill the open living room and kitchen.
They don't have a lot of things, but they do briefly discuss just where to push the couch, settling on a compromise. They try a bit just figure out where to place the carpets and when they're satisfied, set the two paintings they picked up down against the wall to be put up tomorrow. It's still fun though. It's everything Arthur didn't think he'd ever have and everything he has now.
When they're done, they both sink down on the couch with twin sighs, staring at the unlit fire place for a moment. Arthur isn't sure who started, but then they're laughing and it's happy and relieved and carefree, the most carefree he has felt in a long, long while. Arthur feels himself relaxing entirely, sinking into the cushions, while Charles breaks out some celebratory beer. They clink bottles and Arthur is still smiling when he takes a generous swallow.
"This is..." Charles speaks up and pauses, before he looks at Arthur, still smiling as well. "This is real great, I never really thought we'd get to have all this."
"Me neither." Arthur lightly nudges Charles's knee with his. "But it is. It's ours. We're home."
At this, Charles's smile gets something warm, maybe with a touch of melancholy, but he looks content too. Happy in a deep reaching way. His voice, when he speaks, is soft. "Yeah. Home."
Arthur gets the urge to either break out his journal and sketch Charles like this or reach over to take his hand. He does neither, instead taking another sip from his beer. He stretches out his legs and let his head fall back against the backrest of the couch. His hat gets knocked off and falls to the ground with a small thud.
The ceiling above is illuminated by the light of the lanterns - he realizes they forgot that they have electrical lights and actually could have switched them on, well, they still have to get used to that. Arthur rests the bottle on his thigh and for this moment, he doesn't worry. He just feels content and warm and Charles is right at his side, the most comfortable of silences spreading between them.
This is where he'll grow old, Arthur decides. If nothing happens that gets him killed before that, this is it. He'll grow old on this ranch, with everyone there, maybe some other folks joining them along the line or even another kid or two if anyone wants one. And with Charles, if he wants to stay.
It would be damn great.
~*~
"What'cha doin'?" Arthur asks when he steps into the main house, setting down a bag of freshly bought apples and sees Kieran taking some slices of dried meat. The guy startles badly enough he almost drops it all, jerking upright and around. He calms down again at seeing Arthur, but stays nervous. Arthur feels himself frown a bit. "Everythin' alright?"
"I, uh, I mean." Kieran fumbles a bit and then ducks his head a little, shoulders hitching up a tad. "I, there has been this pregnant cat and I..."
He trails off and Arthur already knows what happened. Kieran hurries on to talk. "I've seen her around before and I know you're not supposed to leave strays food because it makes them stay, but she was too round and I was worried about her, so I left her food."
Kieran looks guilty, as if he expects to be scolded. Arthur consciously schools his face to look nonjudgmental, understanding even. And really, he gets it. Besides, he won't complain about feeding strays and inviting them to stay. Honestly, most of their ragtag group are strays, he himself once was one too. Besides, having cats around doesn't sound like a bad idea. It should keep the mice away from the bags of food at least.
"Alright, so she's on the ranch?" Arthur asks and Kieran pauses a bit, swallowing.
"Well, I, she might have snuck into my room. A-And got her kittens in my closet, on a couple of blankets." He gives Arthur a small, nervous smile. "She let me pet her."
Now Arthur is really surprised. "Kittens?" He has the sudden urge to ask if he can see them, but decides against it. The mother probably won't appreciate a stranger staring down at her and her babies. "Don't tell Jack yet, he would want to see them right away. What she look like?"
Kieran blinks, surprised and then his shoulders slowly relax more. "She's orange." He falls quiet and shifts a bit in place, the small shuffling making Arthur lift his eyebrows questioningly. "Could I, I mean, we could use a cat, for catching mice and everythin', and -"
"If she wants to stay, she can stay." Arthur calms his rambling, especially once the kid starts to sound a bit worried. "I don't mind. The little ones too I guess."
"Oh, okay." Kieran's shoulders relax fully at that and his smile looks a bit livelier, happy and a little lopsided. Arthur feels secretly glad that he managed to do something right with this. And really, who would say no to having a cat on the ranch? The place is definitely more than big enough. Besides, who knows if the stray is even going to stay, or her babies. "Thanks, Arthur. Oh, this meat is for her."
"Thought as much. Alright, let me know if you need anythin'." Arthur gives him a small pat on the shoulder in parting, stepping back to return to his work. Kittens, though! He's never seen one and he can't help but be really curious. He hopes Cain is good with cats, otherwise there might be some trouble.
"Thanks, Arthur." Kieran calls after him and Arthur merely waves over his shoulder as he steps back out of the house. There is a small smile on his face and Arthur can admit, to himself, that he's looking forward to seeing tiny cats walk around.
Getting used to the ranch life is a gradual process. Arthur is more than willing to get his hands dirty and he is used to hard work. And while he feels supremely awkward learning how to care for the fields, he's far better with the animals, which is where he mostly ends up. He looks after the cows, Sadie having taught him how to milk them properly and putting eggs into containers to be sold in town. The chickens have taken a liking to him too, shadowing his step when he's with them and making low noises that honestly sound pretty soothing.
Aside from that, he hauls water, carries things and helps whoever calls him over. It's nice. A bit calmer than he expected, though that's most likely the case because they're still lacking in animals for now and Sadie and Hosea already have more fields planned that will be cultivated soon. They're all going to have more than enough to do soon enough.
Arthur, with his tasks done for today, catches sight of Sean, who looks like he's finished too for now and calls out to him. The kid turns to him, hat back on his head and his gone eye still covered with bandages. Arthur wonders if the kid might get an eye patch at some point or if this is more comfortable for him.
"What's it?" Sean asks once Arthur has caught up to him. Arthur gives his shoulder a pat, motioning for him to come along.
"Your first lesson in doing a proper quick-draw." Arthur calls over his shoulder, glancing back just long enough to see the surprise on Sean's face, followed by a wide grin, though it doesn't manage to mask the relief he feels too. It makes Arthur feel bad that he didn't get to it sooner. Who knows what Sean had been thinking in the meantime, or if he thought Arthur might have forgotten about it all. He hadn't, he wouldn't. Sean is important to him, as much as he'll probably never say it. He wants the kid to be happy, more than anything.
"If you're ready for the competition, ol' man." Sean says with a mischievous grin, a short laugh following his words. A pep is back in his steps that has been missing these past days and weeks and Arthur is glad to see it back.
"If you can keep up." Arthur teases back with a grin, chuckling when Sean elbows him.
"I'll let ya know, you'll be eatin' those words." Sean's eye seems to have come alive with a spark and Arthur reaches out to give his shoulder a pat.
It's good to see him look lively again, to see that the brooding frown that crept on Sean's face whenever he was left alone is entirely smoothed away right now. Arthur knows that things won't be magically okay again, just because he'll start helping the kid learn to shoot again, but it's a start. The rest, Sean will figure out along the way.
And for now, for now they'll just have fun and he'll do his best to help Sean learn to be good with a gun again. Kid's going to manage to do it in no time at all too. If Arthur knows Sean at all, he knows how tenacious he is and that no matter the setbacks, the hurts or the doubts, Sean is going to push through it to get where he wants to go. His annoying little brother.
Arthur is damn proud of him.
~*~
Sleeping in his room is both a novelty and strange. On one side, just the fact that he has his own room, that he shares this small house with Charles, is something that partly baffles him and partly makes him happy. On the other side, it's strange because it's quieter than he expected. There are no noises like back at camp or even the kind of noises that accompanied the towns he stayed in before. Really, the most he hears at the moment, is his own breathing and the rustle of his sheets when he turns, the groan of the wood as the house settles or a small creak from his bedframe.
Arthur knows he's going to get used to it at one point. At some point, he'll sleep better instead of listening out for noises that could mean trouble. At some point, he won't have nightmares waking him as often and making him feel as if the silence around him is a living, breathing thing.
Tonight is definitely not such a night, not even closely. With a sigh, he gets up from bed, slightly curling his toes as his bare feet meet the cold ground. He might pick up a carpet or a rug the next time he's in town. Maybe a few other things too. His room is strangely...empty. Sure, he has his mother's photo on his bedside table, Boadicea's horse shoe is nailed atop the door, he has the pictures of Copper, of Hosea, Dutch and he in frames on his dresser, beside the framed photo Albert left him with. And that's kind of it. He doesn't really have much else and Arthur feels a bit clueless on what else to fill it with.
Sure, he could go and get paintings, but they already have them in the living room. Hell, even his dresser is half empty. Maybe he'll figure it out in time. And maybe, he can just go and buy things for the sake of having them because he likes it, instead of passing by trinkets and small art pieces or painted wooden horses, because he couldn't take them along before.
Mary's photo is probably the one thing he didn't put up. He still has it though, tucked in his journal, between the pages where he had written about breaking things off for good. He still cares for her and won't just throw her picture out. He wants to keep it and he knows at one point, he's going to look at it and just smile, a little wry maybe.
But, and the realization has been a quiet, surprised thing, he no longer loves her. Not the way he used to. All that's left is the memory of the love he once carried for her for so long and maybe it should feel a little strange to have it gone, after having loved her for so long. It isn't though. Partly because it is good to leave that behind him and partly because he's, well, he's very much on his way to falling in love with Charles, as much as he still doesn't know what to do about it. Though, maybe, this new love isn't as hopeless as he had feared before.
There is hope for it becoming something and while Arthur isn't exactly entirely sure, it feels like maybe, he could have a chance with Charles. If he didn't entirely misinterpret some of their touches that is. Some of the glances they shared. It always felt like maybe, possibly...
Slowly, the silence creeps back up on him and Arthur is almost glad for the gentle creak of floorboards as he quietly leaves his room, careful not to make too much noise. He doesn't want to wake Charles, it's enough that one of them has trouble sleeping.
The living room isn't really any better than his bedroom though. It's just as quiet, though the room is larger. The silence seems as thick as before, almost as if settling all around him like a heavy cloak, crawling through the air like mist.
Sighing, Arthur rubs a hand over his face. It isn't a good night, he can admit that much. His fingers feel cold, even with how warm the nights have become and his mind keeps pulling back to the sensation of the nightmare he had. He doesn't entirely remember what it was about, only recalls flashes of it. Of struggling to breathe, of being stuck and too slow, too sluggish to move as he watched others die. He thinks he dreamt of Colm too, of that night he was captured, everything covered in a haze of phantom pain and the slick slide of spilled blood.
Rubbing a hand over his shoulder with the bullet scar, Arthur feels the cold of his fingers even through his shirt. His glance falls to the mostly empty bookshelf and he decides to try and distract himself a bit with reading. It might help and even if it doesn't, at least he has something to fiddle with. Dropping his hand, he heads to where one lantern is on the mantle of the fire place. It squeaks a bit as he picks it up and it lights without trouble. Arthur sets the lantern down by the table beside the couch and then moves to open the closest window.
It's dark and quiet outside, but it isn't silent. He can now hear the soft noises of the night, the chirping of crickets, the soft rustle of the farther away trees as a breeze sweeps through them. Even the sound of a horse snorting, though it sounds faint.
Leaving the window open, he heads to the bookshelf they have. While it's mostly empty, they do have a few books, worn around the edges and Arthur has read all of them before. Most of them he found and picked up when he was searching for as much loot as possible back in the east.
Choosing one of them, he sits on the couch, swinging his feet up a moment later and stretching out a bit. It's a struggle at first to concentrate on the writing, but a few pages in, Arthur feels his mind easing a bit, no longer trying to slip back to the uneasy feeling of his dream, bringing up the snippets he remembers of it.
He only realizes that he's actually dozed off again, when a well known voice quietly speaks his name. Arthur grunts, confused and blearily opening his eyes as something is slipped from under his hand. Oh, the book, he realizes. Blinking he moves his head until he can look at Charles, who stands beside him, gently closing the book.
The man wears an old shirt to bed, along with some worn out, soft pants. The same as Arthur, really, they both didn't exactly invest in sleepwear so far. Who knows if they ever really will. One day maybe. A sideways glance shows that it's still entirely dark outside.
"Did I wake you?" Arthur asks, voice rough with the edges of sleep.
"No, don't worry." Charles says quietly, his voice low and warm. He looks a bit sleep ruffled, but also wide awake. "I had a bad dream. Did you fall asleep reading?"
"Had a bad dream too." Arthur murmurs, moving to rub a hand over his face. His fingers no longer feel cold. "And it's too damn quiet in here."
Charles makes an agreeing and understanding hum. He gives the open window a glance. "That's why you came here?"
"Didn't mean to fall asleep." Arthur sits up, feeling tired and worn. The couch isn't too bad for sleeping on though, he certainly slept in worse places, but he definitely doesn't feel more rested either. He looks at Charles, who now sits down beside him. "You alright?"
Charles makes a low, noncommittal hum. "Better." He glances at him. "You?"
"Better, too." His hands aren't cold anymore and his mind is no longer filled and half haunted with leftover bits from his nightmare.
They sit there together in silence for a long moment and with a soft sigh, Arthur lets his head sink against the backrest of the couch. He closes his eyes. Arthur doesn't want to get up again. Actually, falling asleep right here right now, sounds like a great idea. He shouldn't though, should try to get back to his bed.
"We'll get used to it." Charles breaks the quiet and Arthur opens his eyes to see Charles looking at him, warm and reassuringly.
"Yeah, we will." And they really will. Maybe Arthur is going to nap on the couch a few more times, but the quiet of the house won't bother either of them at one point. They'll get used to it like they got used to anything else in their lives, even if it might take a while.
"Thanks." Arthur murmurs. "For bein' here."
There is a slight, subtle shift in Charles's face at those words. Arthur catches it, the way his eyes seem to grow warmer and the corners of his mouth tick up a bit. The expression looks almost soft and it suddenly makes him feel warm.
"Of course." Charles's voice sounds a bit lower and they tilted towards each other a little right now. Arthur's fingers give a brief, tiny twitch towards Charles, his heart starting to pick up a faster, thrumming beat.
He isn't entirely sure if he does end up reaching out first, or if Charles did it, but their hands meet, a light brush of fingers, careful, pausing, lingering, before sliding over each other, clearly enough to ensure this is what they both want. Charles's skin is warm, his hand solid and callused, carrying some scars on his knuckles from fist fights. It's almost slow, the way their palms come to rest against each other, their fingers curling around the other's hand. Arthur only realizes he's slightly held his breath when he exhales softly.
He flicks his gaze up at Charles and finds him already looking at him. There is a near tentative smile slowly sneaking onto Charles's face and Arthur finds himself answering it. It's almost as if Arthur can feel the warmth of their hands seeping up his arm to wrap around his chest. Their shoulders bump slightly and then come to rest against each other.
They don't say anything for a long moment and it still feels like forming understanding between them. Something quiet and clear, as warm as their skin and as gentle as the hold of their hands. Arthur's thoughts are calm and he feels his heartbeat grow steady once more, his shoulders relax until he feels like he might just melt into the cushions. He gives Charles's hand a small squeeze and finds it answered, Charles's thumb now giving a gentle sweep over the back of his hand.
"So." Arthur murmurs, breaking the quiet between them. He briefly wets his lips, looking at Charles who looks back at him, the soft, warm shift back on his face.
"Yeah." Charles answers just as quietly, slowly running his thumb over Arthur's knuckles as if he wants to memorize the dips and map the scars that are there.
Arthur finds himself smiling again, dipping his head a bit to hide the way it morphs into a small, lopsided grin, warmth and elation, relief and happiness filling his heart. When he looks up, he sees Charles grin too, giving his hand another small squeeze, both their grins widening a bit as they look at each other.
~*~
Arthur gives the sheep a long look, then glances at Sadie, who gives them a critical look. She knows which ones to choose and Arthur honestly just accompanied her and the others for a nice time out in town. He certainly couldn't tell if one sheep was better than the other.
Mary-Beth had left for a stop in the bookshop with a slightly nervous but happy looking Kieran and a smiling Lenny, though Lenny seems to have stopped on a small table outside the store, rifling through a box on a small table that stood there. What kind of books could be in it, Arthur has no idea, maybe he'll wander over later to see for himself.
Hosea is a bit further ahead, looking at cows with Charles, they're conversing and gesturing. Karen and Sean are around as well, wandering across the market and looking for ways to entertain themselves. Arthur hopes they're not going to get into trouble - they both certainly know how to find it - or that they're going to do something stupid. Like Sean signing up for bull riding. If the kid dares to break his neck out of stupidity and wanting to make Karen laugh or proving himself whatever other reason, Arthur is going to find a way to reach into the afterlife and give him a shake strong enough he feels his teeth rattle post-death.
But really, he doesn't even want to think too much about that, not with everything that happened before. Sean is alive, really and truly and that is what counts.
"You're broodin'." Sadie says and Arthur realizes that she seems done with looking the sheep over. They wander over to the man selling them. Considering they arrived early, they still have good pickings from the animals. "Everythin' alright?"
"Sure." Arthur murmurs and then waits as she talks with the seller, haggling a bit about the price and then she pays, the man crossing out the numbers of the sold sheep, telling her to pick them up and take them home before the end of the day.
"Sadie." Arthur finds himself speaking up when they walk away from the man again and he slows his steps a bit, Sadie doing so as well with a questioning look. "I've wanted to ask, I mean, are ya happy here?"
She looks briefly surprised at the question and then thoughtful, before she gives a small, almost humorous huff and there is a brief upwards twitch to one corner of her mouth.
"I thought I wouldn't be." Her voice is a bit quieter when she talks, though no less smoky and slightly rough. "Thought everythin' would remind me of Jake. And sometimes it does, but...it's different too. I mean, I think I'll pick up bounty huntin' here and there, don't get me wrong, I mean, I ain't ever going back to who I was." The brief amusement that surfaced fades again and she glances at him, thoughtful and serious. "But I think I might, one day, maybe be happy again. So, you know, don't worry 'bout me. You've done too much of it these last weeks anyway."
He huffs softly, smiling a bit himself. "Yeah, yeah, alright."
Sadie is probably one of the strongest people he knows. He can still see the pain in her, the love she held and most likely still holds for Jake, the grief and guilt for his death. Sometimes, he sees her staring off in the distance and a part of him wonders if maybe, one day, she might decide to leave and never return. Just go somewhere else. He hopes she won't, hopes she'll stay.
Sadie gives his elbow a small nudge with hers and when he looks at her, there is a wry smile on her face. "Don't worry so much. I ain't goin' nowhere."
He exhales at that and can't help the way a slightly rueful smile tugging on his face. She's looked right through him it seems. Sadie picks up their normal pace again and Arthur follows her, joining Hosea and Charles. He can't quite resist giving Charles a sideways glance and a small smile, head slightly tipped and Charles slightly smiles back. They're comfortably standing beside each other, maybe a bit closer than before.
They head back to the seller together once more, Hosea telling the man about the cows, briefly haggling over the price and the man once again tells them to get their animals before the day is over, sounding almost absentminded as he crosses out the bought cows and stows away the money.
It's strangely satisfying for Arthur, seeing things bought for the ranch. To now have cattle and livestock too. It gives him the feeling that things are going well, that he's doing something right. Hosea looks satisfied too and Arthur is quietly, and possibly not so secretly relieved to see Hosea look better. The older man seems merrier too, a twinkle in his eyes and the lines of stress have slowly, bit by bit, faded over the last weeks, ever since they arrived at the ranch. He frowns less too and Arthur catches him smiling more often, humming and teaching Jack songs between helping him and Sean practice their reading. And while Hosea refuses to not help out at least a little, he's still taken to relaxing a bit more, enjoying hot cups of coffee and indulging in his reading more than before.
They all have slowly started to pick up things for themselves, Arthur noticed. Seeing folks return with packages or boxes, with bags obviously filled with a few more things, it makes something in his chest loosen and relax. They all deserve a lot and he feels strangely content whenever he sees them getting things they always wanted for themselves.
"Alright, business is done, feel free to look around a bit, we'll round the animals up and get going in an hour." Hosea tells them with a smile and adds a small, shooing motion. "Go on you lot, have fun."
Charles falls into step beside Arthur and their arms brush slightly. Arthur has to bite back the small smile that threatens to tug at his mouth and instead lifts his head a bit to glance around. The livestock market has brought a number of people to the town, strangers and surroundings farmers alike. He sees folks who have small karts with them, selling home-made products like jars full of honey, homemade marmalade and beer. There are little works of craft displayed, from knitted socks to woven scarves, some clothes for children, knitted oven mittens and doilies.
Charles and he end up picking up a few things, some honey, definitely some marmalade too and Arthur, because he can now, buy's a beautifully carved and painted wooden horse. When he suggests putting it up in the living room, Charles nods with a smile, looking more than alright with it.
With the horse wrapped and carefully tucked under one arm, they wander over to the book store. Lenny has gone inside now and Arthur and Charles stop by the small table outside and peer into the box, the writing advertising them as secondhand and cheaper too. The books look like older, well worn but also well cared for story books. According to the covers, they're mostly about adventures. Some with knights, some with cowboys, one or two seem to be about tales about something called the fae and other mystical creatures. Arthur picks up a book about fairytales, thinking that Jack might like it quite a bit. It even seems to have a picture or two in it, a rare thing.
The inside is a bit crowded, Mary-Beth looking all too happy and Kieran like he doesn't mind helping her choose what to buy. Lenny seems to consider between two books as well, a look of serious thoughtfulness on his face. It makes Arthur happy to see them like this.
Charles picks up a book as well and they pay for their things, letting the other three know to get ready to go in an hour, before stepping back out.
It's a honestly nice day, with a few white clouds lazily drifting across the sky. The air is nicely warm, with summer now slowly settling over the country. There is a happy and excited bustle all around, the murmur of people talking and pointing things out to each other. A number of shop owners have brought out more expensive things in hopes of selling them to the larger crowd. The gun smith even has a small show organized in the afternoon.
"Want to head somewhere?" Arthur asks Charles, who looks thoughtful for a moment and then shakes his head.
"No, not really. Though if you want, we can look at the horses for sale."
That does sound interesting and they wander over to the paddock with the horses. There are sturdy draft horses, the slimmer looking mustangs and long legged purebreds, among others. Arthur ends up really liking an appaloosa, spotted all over. It honestly looks like it's light brown fur is perpetually caught in a snowstorm. Arthur feels tempted looking at the price, but decides against it. He has Storm, he loves her dearly and he wouldn't know what to do with a second horse either way.
Charles is relaxed at his side, smiling and speaking gently at the horses that move towards him. Some wander on, some stay, looking calm and at ease as he pets their necks and cards his fingers through their mane.
"Well, if we fail with the cows and sheep, we can always try our hand with the horses." Arthur jokes and Charles actually looks thoughtful for a moment. Arthur's gaze wanders back to the snowstorm spotted appaloosa before him, warm brown eyes watching him. It looks like it might get along with Storm and the others.
The call of his name gets Arthur to look up in surprise. It takes him a second to recognize one of the deputies heading his way, a rider leading his horse at his side.
"Mister Morgan." The deputy says, though it sounds like half an introduction, as he motions the rider towards him. "This gentleman was looking for you."
"Arthur Morgan?" The rider asks, wearing what looks like a uniform, though Arthur can't place where he might have seen it, even if it looks vaguely familiar. "I have a telegram for you."
At this, Arthur blinks in surprise. "Oh, thank you."
He accepts the paper the man hands him, who then gives him a very quick tip of his head, before he's already leaving again, getting into the saddle and quickly and expertly weaving his way through the crowd. Feeling entirely confused, Arthur looks down at the telegram. What he reads, makes him freeze, his heart lurching painfully in his chest. Taking a deep, rasping breath , he holds the telegram out to Charles. His tongue feels like it sticks to the roof of his mouth, dry and thick. His hands are turning numb and he no longer hears the chatting people around them.
"Shit." Charles murmurs and face serious, voice slightly tense and even his voice sounds a bit muffled. Arthur shakes his head and gets himself back together. "We have to tell the others." Charles looks up at him, gaze grave and he seems to stand up taller, shoulders squared and footing firmer. A fighter's stance. "We have to go."
Arthur sucks in a deep breath and it almost seems to sting his lungs. "Yeah." His voice sounds strange as he already turns to where he saw Hosea a few minutes ago. "Let's go."
~*~
"We have to go, right now." Karen says, voice not brooking for any argument as soon as she has the telegram snatched out of Arthur's hand and read over it herself. They're all back at the ranch, crowded around the kitchen table of the main house.
Arthur knows the words by heart by now. It's just a little message, considering how damn expensive a telegram is, but it's still so very, very serious.
Arthur the Pinkertons have Javier and Grimshaw. Please we need your help. Tilly.
Of course, of course he'll help. There is no question that he won't. But looking at everyone else, crowed around the kitchen table, he feels the same lurch that got him a while ago. They want to go too. Of course they would. They all would want to go back to the place he got them out of. The thought makes his lungs feel tight and as if the air gets dragged out of them against his will.
"No." He says without thinking, memories half forming in his mind and he can't stop thinking that he can't let them go back. It might kill them. Before he can say anything else though, or explain himself, Karen rounds on him, eyes bright with emotions she turns into fury.
"How dare you say that!" She snarls at him, almost shoving his shoulder as she gestures with the telegram and she looks close to betrayed, hurt even at his word, so very angry and it makes his chest tight all over again in a different way. "How dare you -"
"I'm not sayin' we ain't goin'." Arthur quickly interrupts her, holding up his hands in hopes to calm her down. And she does, giving him a very sharp look. Everyone is quiet now and looking at him aswell. Suddenly, it's hard to put things into words.
"Just, we can't all go." Arthur tries instead and now holds up his hands in a different way when he hears people suck in air for protests. "We can't. We can't just abandon this place."
"Arthur's right." Hosea's calm voice cuts in too and Arthur catches the way some folks deflate a little, looking stubborn and mulish, but at least more willing to listen. It gives Arthur a moment to calm his mind and wrangle his thoughts.
"We can't all go." Hosea continues, looking grim himself. "Now, let's all calm down." He looks at Arthur. "Why do you think Tilly asked for our help?"
Arthur can think of only one reason why that is. "She might no longer be with Dutch." Or count on him. Arthur sees that Hosea realizes what he doesn't say, catches the way the corners of the older man's eyes tighten and his lips press together for a moment. The same grief Arthur saw back in Shady Belle flits over Hosea's face, before it's pushed away.
"Javier and Grimshaw too?" Charles asks, his calm voice helping Arthur feel not as much as if everything is suddenly, once again, slipping through his fingers. Just when he thought it was all finally over, all the threats dealt with, at least for now. Just when he thought they were all safe. "Don't you think Dutch would come save them?"
Hosea and Arthur glance at each other and Arthur is vaguely aware of the others looking at them too, the telegram long crumbled in Karen's white knuckled fist. For a long second, Arthur doesn't know. He isn't sure if Dutch would leave Javier or Grimshaw, who are both so very, very loyal to him. Unless something happened. Considering everything that happened back in Beaver Hollow, before he died, he thinks it's possible. What he has trouble imagining is what Javier or Grimshaw would possibly do to end up on Dutch's bad side. Or for him to decide to leave them behind, considering their loyalty. What could have possibly happened?
"Maybe something is stopping him." Arthur finds himself saying. He swallows, his mouth still feeling too dry. It feels like he's making a choice with agreeing to go, as if he's tipping some kind of scales. And yet, in a way, it's no real choice at all. As if he wouldn't go. "But Tilly wouldn't ask for our help without good reason."
"How did she know where we are?" Kieran asks, frowning and looking a mix of serious and worried as well.
"Trelawney might have told her." Hosea murmurs. "He knows Tilly well enough, she wouldn't have used that information against us. Maybe she considered joining us too, but something happened before she could."
"It's dangerous, going back." Arthur has to say it. He can't just stay entirely quiet on the topic. "The Pinkertons will be lookin' for us, for us or Dutch. An' when we're there, I don't know a safe way back out. Or if we'll arrive in time."
"I know, but we have to try. And we'll deal with leaving when we're there." Hosea says calmly, certainly. Arthur can't help but remember all the times he's heard something similar. It's not even a real plan, but they all know that and they're going to go anyways. He stays quiet, something rough suddenly stuck in his throat, which feels so dry, his voice might scrape it raw.
At the same time, Arthur knows he wouldn't stay behind either. This is Tilly, and it's about Javier and Miss Grimshaw. Sure, he might still feel a bit torn about Javier at times, but they deserve help and the chance to get away safely and Miss Grimshaw doesn't deserve the same end as before. Arthur doesn't know where Dutch is or why Tilly asks them for help, but it must be dire. None of them would want to stay behind after this call of help, he knows that.
"We can't go with a too big group." Hosea says and looks at them. "Abigail, you stay here with Jack." She gives him a nod, though she casts a small, worried glance at John at her side. John shifts a little closer to her and her shoulders relax a bit, the tension seeping a little out of her face. Arthur thinks that he took her hand where the others can't see.
"Mary-Beth, I think it would be best if you stayed here too." Hosea says it and Mary-Beth frowns a bit in worry but accepts it with a slow nod. "Sean you -"
"I won't stay." Sean protests right away, looking angry and hurt.
"You can't shoot well yet." Hosea's voice is firmer than Arthur has heard it in a long while. It carries the sort of steel that Hosea even before used so very rarely and Sean's mouth shuts with click. Arthur catches the way his eye widens briefly, sees the flash of emotions, hurt and betrayed and angry. Then he turns around and leaves, roughly throwing the front door open on his way out. Hosea sags a little bit, but remains with a straight back.
"John, it would be best if you stay too." Hosea lifts his hand when John is about to protest. "You need to look after your family and we need enough people to care for the ranch too. Besides, if we're a small enough group, we have a better chance of slipping through unnoticed." He turns to face Kieran and Lenny, who already know what's coming. Kieran doesn't bother to protest, while Lenny starts to frown heavily. "You two stay as well."
Hosea looks over the rest of them. "Sadie, Karen, Arthur, Charles, you come with me." Karen exhales with relief and then frowns, glancing to where Sean left. That must be really hard on the kid and Arthur itches to go after him, even if he knows that right now, nothing he says could help Sean feel better. Or rather, nothing he'd know to say. Though, Arthur thinks that even without having lost his eye, Hosea would have told him to stay.
At the same time, knowing that Sean will stay is making him breathe easier. Sean will stay here and he won't go back to the east, where Arthur has to fear that he'll see him crumble to the ground once more, more than his eye gone. He still doesn't want Hosea to go, wants all of them to stay safe, but he also knows he can't do this on his own. For a brief moment, anger rises in him. Anger at Dutch, for not doing anything, that this happens and endangers all of them once again.
"Pack everything you need and do it fast." Hosea wraps everything up, voice still firm. "We're taking the first train towards the east. Let's hope we'll arrive in time to save them."