Sorry for the delay. Oh, where to begin on the excuses... election memes fried my brain, as did all the other internet insanity from last week. And then just as I sat down to finish this chapter, I spilled beer on my laptop track pad and had to cover the whole thing in rice. Computer seems fine, but the track pad is rather sticky, so I'm going to try to open it up and clean it this weekend. Please let me know if you spot grammar errors, because I was rushing a bit to get this up in reasonable time!

Chapter 25: The East Grizzlies

The journey north took a few days, especially with two of their party still recovering from the bank robbery. John and Hosea were riding in a wagon, slowing their progress on the more steep and narrow paths of the Grizzlies. Even without that, they were traveling with a kid, a dog, and six extra horses. The gang's horses had run back to Shady Belle as soon as the shooting started, and Arthur felt terrible with the idea of leaving them behind. Once Dutch contacted Susan, they would deliver the horses back to their owners. So The Count, Brown Jack, Boaz, Baylock, and Maggie trudged along behind the wagon. Dutch's Arabian almost refused to join them, as he was still harboring hatred towards Merlin. Then there was Old Belle, who Karen left behind with everything else. Arthur didn't know what to do with Old Belle yet. Perhaps Susan could take her.

But eventually they reached the cabin, still empty from the last time Arthur stayed there. He jumped down from Merlin and went inside with Susan. There was minor water damage and a raccoon may have taken up residence at some point, but they had certainly lived in worse places.

"We can stretch some canvas over those gaps to keep the rain out," Susan said. "We have more than enough."

"Sure, that would help," said Arthur.

"This is a nice spot."

"Yeah, I found it after… well, you know."

Abigail led Jack inside, Cain bounding on his heels, and the boy immediately ran towards the ladder to the top. "Hold on, Jack," she said.

Arthur reassured her with, "There's a railing, he'll be fine." The two went up the ladder as Charles and Sadie walked in supporting John and set him on the bed before turning around to get Hosea.

Arthur sighed as he watched the group bustle about to turn the cabin into a home. He was itching to get to the reservation and Albert, but Hosea's silence over the last few days concerned him. Arthur knew just how difficult it was to say goodbye, to Dutch, the gang, the life they knew. And to do it when Dutch wasn't there? That was worse, and Arthur didn't know if anything could fix that.

John shifted on the bed, trying to get comfortable. "You alright?" Arthur asked.

"Riding in the wagon wasn't great going up the mountain," John replied. "But I guess it was worth it. This place seems quiet."

"It is."

John glanced over at Hosea, slouched in the chair where Sadie and Charles left him. "You think he's okay?" John whispered.

"No. But we'll do what we can."

The cots were set up and the canvas was hung over the windows. Charles caught a few rabbits for Susan to cook for dinner. But soon everyone was pushing Arthur out the door to find Albert after they interrogated him for stories on the photographer.

"We'll be fine!" Abigail said.

"I can protect these idiots," Sadie laughed.

Arthur looked towards Hosea, who quietly said, "It's okay, son. Go."

"We won't be too far." Reluctantly, Arthur went out the door and mounted Merlin. Charles was already waiting on Taima, and they set off towards the reservation. Arthur stared over the rolling fields of wildflowers, his eyes drifting to the patch of trees hiding the small cabin that started all of this. He was almost tempted to check for the cauldron and the raven, but he doubted anything would be there. Besides, he wouldn't want anything to change now. He managed to save his brother, his father, and many of his friends.

And, while the strange man in the bayou didn't seem interested in meddling in his life more than he already had, Arthur didn't want to risk things taking a turn for the worse.

"Not far, now," Charles said as they wound their way down the narrow mountain path to Donner Falls.

"So, you were helping Rains Fall in Saint Denis?"

"Yes. Remember Cornwall? Apparently, he is trying to take their land."

"Why?"

"Oil. He sent prospectors up a few months back. I broke into the refinery in the Heartlands and found proof."

"Think that Mr. Miller can convince the government to do anything about that?"

"No. Men like Cornwall just take what they want and pay off the government later."

Arthur knew the situation with the Wapiti was bad, as it was for many tribes across the country. But he had never been to a reservation before, and seeing it made him wonder why the government considered them to be a threat. A few tents were thrown up between the rocks and trees on a land not suitable for farming. Broken wagons and half torn-down buildings littered the ground. The people Arthur could see were either young children or elderly, the men of the tribe having been killed during the war that forced the Wapiti into the mountains in the first place. There was no point in the government or Cornwall bringing an army up here, other than to stamp out the last embers of an almost forgotten memory.

And in the middle of it all, a writer and a photographer worked to breath life into it.

"Now just hold right there," Albert said to a small group of women, who appeared rather annoyed that Albert was slowing down their work. Arthur stood behind him for a moment, just watching with a wide grin across his face. The flash went off, and the women grumbled as they were released from photography duty.

"Al!" he called over to him.

Albert turned and let out a squeak. Abandoning his camera, he rushed over to Arthur and threw his arms around him. "You're here!" he said. "You're okay and you're here."

"Yeah, sorry it took so long."

"We heard the news about the robbery, but nothing about any deaths or arrests."

"Everyone is alive. I got John, his family, Hosea, and some others staying up at a cabin near here. Dutch and most of the others that robbed the bank got out of the city, the rest went their separate ways." He was about to turn and introduce Charles when he realized the other man wasn't standing next to him anymore. Charles talked with Rains Fall on the other side of the reservation, so Arthur let him be.

"How are you, Mr. Miller?" he called to the writer standing awkwardly on the other side of the tents.

"I'm well, quite well. I believe I have almost everything I need to make a case in Washington. Mr. Mason's photographs will be most helpful."

"I suppose we will have to leave soon to get them developed," Albert said.

"Or, I could take the film back to Saint Denis to get it developed myself. If I need more photographs, I will send a telegram. You can stay here and don't need to drag your equipment back and forth," he said, glancing between him and Arthur.

"Mighty kind of you, Mr. Miller," said Arthur.

"It is no problem at all. Thank you for your help, Mr. Mason."

With that, Evelyn Miller left to talk with a few more folk, and Albert packed his photography equipment. "I missed you," Al said. "I was worried I would never see you again."

"Hey, I'm fine!" Arthur said with a weak laugh. "I missed you, too."

"So, everyone is okay?"

"Well, no… uh… John and Hosea got hurt but they'll be fine. It's been a tough few days."

"Perhaps I can come with you to this cabin? I would like to see Mr. Matthews and Mr. Marston again."

"Yeah, that would be great." Arthur was glad that Albert was willing to stay. He didn't want to leave John and Hosea just yet, and perhaps Albert's presence would cheer Hosea up a little. The two did get along rather well. "Though… it is getting late. We could head there in the morning."

Albert smirked. "Trying to get some alone time, are you?"

"Maybe. Where are you staying?"

"I was staying in that building over there," Albert said, pointing at one of the few still standing structures.

"I have my tent. We can set up away from everyone."

"Sounds perfect."

They made camp on the other side of the ravine, though Arthur did most of the work while Albert admired the orange sunset behind Bacchus Bridge while their three horses grazed in the long grass.

"Still hoping for color photography?" Arthur asked.

"Yes. But how would you take a picture of the sun? The whole photograph would get washed out!"

"If anyone can figure it out, you can, Al." Arthur held out his hand. Albert took it and allowed himself to be led into the tent. Arthur began to pull off his coat and unbutton his shirt. And then the next shirt underneath. And then… "How many layers do you have on?"

"It's cold in the mountains!"

"Not that cold!"

"Oh, stop," Albert laughed before leaning in for a kiss. Arthur met him halfway, pulling him down to the bedroll.

They woke late the next morning, wrapped in each others arms. They stayed that way for a while, Albert telling stories of his time up north and Arthur explaining everything that happened down south.

Later, when the sun was higher in the sky and the temperature a little warmer, Albert and Arthur rode back to the cabin.

"Uncle Al!" Jack cried out, the first to spot them coming around the bend.

"Hi, Jack!" Albert said, sliding off Dakota and letting the boy run up to him. Abigail wandered over and introduced herself, quickly followed by Susan and Sadie. All three of them wore flower necklaces and crowns.

"How do you like the new camp, Jack?" Arthur asked.

"It's great! It's so pretty."

"I see you found all the flowers."

"Yes, he did," Abigail sighed. "I'm trying to keep him near camp. We saw a bear across the way."

"A bear, you say?" Albert asked.

"Al, no."

"So, this is the wildlife photographer I've heard so much about," Susan said. "Tell us everything."

Before Arthur could stop them, Albert was dragged away by the three women. He meant to follow, but Jack said, "Uncle Arthur, you need a necklace, too!" He stayed outside and watched Jack pick more flowers, though he convinced the boy to make the necklace inside.

John was wandering around the cabin by himself now, and seemed much happier for it. Hosea still sat in a chair. His eyes brightened a tad, just a small spark, when Arthur entered. In the next second, it vanished.

This became a trend as the days went by.

Arthur and Albert traveled around the area, looking for animals to photograph. They did end up finding the bear with little difficulty. Fortunately it was just a black bear. Arthur helped Albert set bait that wasn't a hunk of raw meat, placing both themselves and the camera on top of a small abandoned building. The angle wasn't the best, and Arthur knew they had only one shot before the skittish black bear ran off. He whistled, the bear looked up, and POOF! The flash went off and the bear fled into the woods.

"You get it?"

"I think so."

"Finally dragged me after a bear, huh?"

"Yes. Though, while we are up in the mountains, I thought about getting pictures of eagles! I never got the chance after Valentine."

"Sure, eagles shouldn't be too hard to find up here."

Arthur returned to Wapiti a few times, both to visit Charles and to check for messages from Mr. Miller. On one trip, he managed to convince John, Jack, and Hosea to join him for fishing at the lake.

Arthur was beginning to worry that Hosea would never come back from the sadness that had overtaken him. Even Albert, barely knowing the man beyond a few meetings, noticed the change. It grew worse with each unsuccessful trip Susan made to the Annesburg post office. Either Dutch was unable to send a letter, or the worse thought, unwilling after what Hosea had done.

Arthur believed the reason to be the former. As angry as Dutch likely was, he would need to say something to Hosea. And he would never abandon The Count. Nor would Bill leave Brown Jack, since that horse was the only thing he seemed to truly love.

He tried to give all the horses the love and attention they deserved. And exercise. They were getting restless. The Count was as moody as ever, and Arthur didn't even attempt to ride him. Maggie was a sweetheart, always begging for treats from Albert, especially once she learned he always caved to her begging. But the horse that Arthur pitied the most was Baylock. He never paid much mind to the stallion before, considering in the beginning Micah would run off for days at a time. At first, Baylock didn't like Arthur getting close to him, ears pinned back and teeth bared. But eventually he won over the horse and found the scars all over Baylock's side, deep gouge marks from spurs used too harshly and frequently. "Oh, you poor thing," he said, rubbing Baylock's white forehead as he finally relaxed into Arthur's touch. There was no point in making a horse fear its rider, and Arthur continued to wonder just why Dutch was willing to keep Micah around.

He rode Baylock to the lake that day, and Baylock seemed quite joyful as he pranced down the dirt path. Behind him, John rode with Jack on Old Boy. John tried to convince Jack that fishing was not a boring experience with fun stories from their youth, which normally would have triggered a series of tales from Hosea. It didn't.

"Here we are, Jack!" Arthur said as they dismounted near the water. "Now, pick a good spot. I bet you will get a bigger fish than your Pa!"

"Really?"

"Hey! I heard that," John said.

They baited the hooks and cast out into the water. Arthur quickly noticed that Hosea was just letting his bait bob in the water, not even bothering to move it about. He should have told the story of Arthur buying the fish from the market by now. Oh, how he always teased Arthur about being a poor fisherman. But today? Nothing. There was no Dutch to aid in the joke. After more than twenty years.

"Hey, I got a fish!" Jack shouted, tugging on the line.

"Nice, Jack, now hold it steady." The fish struggled on the end for a bit, then went still. "Now reel it in! Quick, while he's tired."

Jack's arms were dragged about as the fish fought for its life. Arthur let John take the lead in encouraging the boy, and they were rewarded with the smallest pickerel Arthur had ever seen on the end of the line. "Well done, Jack," he said. Maybe they could let Cain eat it as a snack.

"Yes, but I still bet I'll get a bigger one," John teased.

"No way!" Jack said. "I'll get a bigger one first."

They kept fishing, with Jack filling the silence whenever he saw an interesting bird or wanted to tell Arthur a story from camp when he hadn't been there. Then John tugged harshly on his rod.

"I got something! It's big, I can feel it."

"Really?" Jack said, the competition briefly forgotten.

John tried to reel it in, but it wasn't budging. Odd, there wasn't much struggling at the surface of the water. He heaved back, and whatever was caught began to move slow, it's weight evident, until it was close enough to shore for John to step forward and pick it up. He proudly lifted the water logged boot on his hook!

John stared at his catch, jaw dropped. So did Arthur and Jack. All three of them turned at the sound of snickering. Hosea watched them wide-eyed, and within seconds gave up trying to cover his laughter. Any other time, John would have been embarrassed, but that day he joined in.

"And here I thought we had one good fisherman in the family," Hosea wheezed.

"At least I never caught a boot," laughed Arthur.

"Did I win, Pa? I caught the biggest fish."

"Of course," Hosea said before John could answer. "You caught the only fish. At least someone will be able to feed all of us."

It was a start.

In the days following, Hosea began to brighten. Sure, some moments the sadness pulled him back under, and he would sit gazing off the mountain towards the city in the distance, it's faint light barely reaching them on a cloudless night. But Arthur could see the small progression with each passing day. Hosea would help Susan with chores, give Jack reading lessons, and sometimes tell Albert stories about growing up in the mountains.

The letter they received from Tilly and Mary-Beth helped as well. The two women were able to reconnect in the city. Hopefully one day, after lying low, they would be able to visit.

And as Arthur and Merlin trotted down the path, exploring the area on their way to visit Charles, Arthur realized he was rather content.

Then he spotted a man in a dark coat and top hat standing on a hill, and Arthur's blood ran cold.

He wanted to turn and run, but what was the point? The strange man found him again. Whether intentional or not, he and Arthur were bound to run into each other. He kicked Merlin into a canter and went up to join him.

"What are you doing here?" Arthur asked.

"I see you have rejoined your family," the man said, not answering Arthur's question.

"Sorry to disappoint."

"Oh, it's not a disappointment to me. I just like to keep track of my accounts. I am an accountant, of sorts."

Arthur didn't know what to say to that, so he looked out towards the west. Below him was an odd house built into the hill that he explored one day, and not far was a cave with some statues that seemed to form some sort of puzzle. The man said aloud the same thought in Arthur's head. "This really is a fine spot."

"It is."

"A nice spot to rest, perhaps. Or not. That is up to you."

Arthur swung his head around, but the strange man was gone.