Chapter 5
Six months later...
"Relax."
The breath that came from John's lips was shaky. Arthur reached out and cupped a hand over the drawn revolver that quivered in John's fingers. He steadied the boy, looking down the range where the bottles sat atop the fence.
"Keep steady now. The key is to breathe in and then release it slowly and pull the trigger. Don't anticipate the kick, or you'll always miss your mark. You gotta get used to it."
Arthur stepped back, allowing John some space. John stared down the bottles with a determined gleam in his eye. He fidgeted on his feet, arm extended out with the revolver.
Arthur smacked the boy upside the head.
"Ow!"
"Steady, I said, boy!"
John focused again, letting a breath slip from his lips. He pulled the trigger. The revolver went off, a loud bang to their ears, the kickback tossing John's arms up.
All bottles remained unscathed. John growled in frustration.
"I killed a man with one of these things but now I ain't got the nerve to shoot a bottle."
Arthur chuckled. "That was luck back then. And luck's nice to have, but it ain't always gonna save you. You got plenty of nerve, kid. It's confidence you lack. Here."
Arthur picked his hat off his head and plopped it on John's head, grinding it down on his scalp and getting a small giggle out of the thin boy.
Arthur wasn't sure why, but John liked his hat, even still after running with them for six months. He never gave a reason to Arthur on why, but he guessed it didn't really matter. He'd let John wear it time to time, and it gave the boy a boost of confidence needed in his teachings.
"Now, let's try again. Spread your feet a bit further apart. There ya go. Aim with a steady hand."
Arthur fixed how John held his arms out with the gun aimed.
"Good. Now remember the breathin'. Don't anticipate the kick. Shoot that green bottle now. Go on. You can do it."
John sucked in a deep breath and released it. He pulled the trigger and the shot rang out across the valley. The green bottle shattered on the fence.
John's mouth opened wide with a grin as he jumped in victory. "Yes! I did it, did you see it, Arthur?!"
Arthur walked over and patted him on the back. "Damn kid, good shot! You keep that up, you'll be shootin' better than me."
John laughed. "I wish. There's no way I can shoot like you or Dutch. And I don't even wanna think 'bout tryin' to beat Hosea. You're the fastest I've seen with a six shooter and I saw Dutch shoot a bird out of the sky through the trees with his revolver. And Hosea hit a deer in the eye on a runnin' horse with his rifle."
Arthur took back his hat, ruffling the boy's hair. "Hosea will probably outshoot us well after he's old 'n gray."
"Probably."
Arthur nodded his head towards the grazing horses. "C'mon. I reckon we better get back to camp and skin that pronghorn or we'll be goin' hungry tonight. Besides, you got more lessons comin' up."
John groaned. "What's so important about readin' and writin' anyway?"
They mounted their horses and started back towards camp. John guided his horse to canter alongside Arthur's horse, where their freshly killed pronghorn was stowed.
The Wyoming valley extended in rolling, grassy hills around them within clusters of trees and surrounding mountains. The sun was high with not a cloud in sight, but the wind nipped hard on their skin, warning of coming winter.
Arthur took a drink out of his water canteen and passed it to John. "If Dutch and Hosea say it's important, then it's important. Ya need to be literate in the jobs we do."
"Sometimes I think that's harder than learnin' how to ride a horse or shoot a gun."
Arthur nodded with a soft laugh. "Yeah, it's hard sometimes. They taught me, same as you. I reckon if they can teach a dummy like me, then they can teach you too. I mean look at you. It didn't take long for you to learn how to ride a horse."
"I guess so…"
They rode together side by side while chatting. John could be a talkative boy and today he was full of questions. Arthur kept an eye out around them as they crossed a bridge over a low-running creek into a field of sagebrush and boulders.
His eye caught something down near the water and he quickly pulled on the reins to stop his horse. He recognized the familiar flower that bloomed there, the soft pink petals and dark anthers stood out amongst the reeds and mud.
Arthur got off his horse. He couldn't believe it. He didn't think he was far enough west yet to find one. The flower was his mother's favorite, and he remembered her telling him it brought good luck. He was so young when she passed, it was one of the few precious memories he had of her.
"What is it?" John asked.
"I'll be right back," Arthur replied, sliding down the slope into the creek bed.
Arthur wasn't surprised that John's curiosity and stubbornness got the best of him. He followed Arthur down into the creek bed on his horse. The steed nickered nervously around the reeds and muck.
"John, better not get down in this on that horse," Arthur warned.
"I'm fine."
Arthur bent down once reaching the flower. He admired it for a moment, caressing its petals. He reached down and grabbed the stem, carefully pulling it from the soil.
Just as Arthur stood his full height, he heard it. The unmistakable, nerve-shattering, dreadful noise of a vibrating rattle. He froze, looking into the reeds, but John's horse spooked. The gelding reared with a loud neigh, tossing John of its back and bolted.
John fell with a yelp into the reeds and muck. Arthur scanned the green stalks for movement, his hand hovering over his holstered revolver.
"John, don't move!"
He saw the serpent, the bend in the reeds as it slithered by in haste. Arthur drew his gun and shot it. John got up, his body and clothes now covered with muck. He flicked his hands to cast off excess mud, curling his lip in disgust.
"Ew!"
"I told you not to bring that horse down here, boy."
John spat out mud from his mouth. "Yeah, yeah."
Arthur picked up the rattlesnake, looking the limp body over. He grinned at John and his now even dirtier appearance. "Miss Grimshaw ain't gonna allow that, ya know."
"I'll wipe it off as soon as we get back, don't worry."
"Somehow, I don't think that's gonna be enough."
Arthur cut the rattle off the dead viper and extended it out towards John. John smiled and took it, testing the rattle out with a shake.
"Neat!"
"C'mon, best we get back and clean you up."
Arthur looked over the flower one last time before slipping it inside his satchel. Luckily, John's horse didn't flee far, taking comfort next to Arthur's horse. They climbed up and headed out once more.
"So, what's with the flower?"
Arthur frowned, wondering if he should tell him or not. "It was my Ma's favorite flower. One of the few things I remember 'bout her. She died when I was real young. I always pick one when we come out this way. They only grow out west."
"Oh."
Arthur glanced over at John. The boy became solemn, his eyes falling to the mane of his horse.
"What is it?"
"I never knew my Ma. S-She died havin' me. My Pa never told me much 'bout her."
Arthur understood how the poor boy felt, and sighed. "I'm sorry."
"Me too."
They were quiet for several minutes. Arthur scratched his cheek, uncomfortable. He cleared his throat. "Susan's strict but she cares a lot more than she lets on. And-And Bessie, well, she's the gentlest woman I know. I've come to care for them as mothers, in their own ways. I'm sure you will too. Them two ladies would never let anyone touch a hair on your head. Bessie for sure. She has quite the soft spot for you."
John smiled. "I like Bessie a lot. She's the nicest lady I've ever met. I-I like Miss Grimshaw too. I know she cares, even when she's bein' tough on me."
Arthur chuckled. "I'd be pissin' my pants more if I saw them two comin' after me after you were hurt even over Dutch 'n Hosea. You ever see Miss Grimshaw grab a shotgun while fumin' you better hunker down, boy, 'cause things are 'bout to get ugly. Hah!"
John laughed with him. "I wouldn't doubt that! She can be scary."
They took another trail going up into the evergreen forest along a rocky ridge. The path was worn down to dirt and rocks that jutted out from the soil, so they had to slow their pace some for the horses. Camp wasn't far now.
"I overheard Hosea and Bessie talkin' a couple weeks back, not long after we got here."
"You're a nosy little bugger aren'tcha?"
"Hey, they thought everyone was sleepin' and I happened to not be. But anyways, well, it worried me a bit. Sounded like they wanted to leave us."
Arthur shot his eyes over at John from those words. "Surely, you misheard. What did ya hear?"
"Bessie asked Hosea if they would ever try again. To leave this life behind and start their own family. Hosea asked her if she wanted to, but I didn't hear an answer. I dunno if she shook her head or what. But it's what Hosea said next that confused me."
"What did he say?"
John thinned his lips, thinking back. "He said…he said there's an internal conflict within Dutch, one that he doesn't even know about. And Hosea said he has to stay by his side…to keep Dutch from feeding an inner wolf…whatever that means. That he has to guide Dutch as well as protect us. He said he fears that Dutch is becoming disillusioned with his own beliefs, but I don't know what he means."
Arthur scowled, not sure what to take from those words either. For some reason, he thought back to Dutch's behavior at the Warren homestead when they saved John from being hanged. Arthur didn't see anything wrong with what Dutch did, seeing it as an "eye for an eye" for what Mr. Warren tried to do to a young boy, for all the corruption he was behind in Hickory and Andell. But there had been a certain…burning in Dutch's eyes that Arthur had never seen before.
Arthur shrugged. "Eh, Hosea worries too much sometimes. I'm sure it's nothin'. He and Bessie tried goin' straight once and came back. The thing is…Dutch and Hosea are a package. One cannot function without the other. Like buddy-sour horses if you try and separate 'em."
"So, it's nothin' to worry 'bout?"
"Nah, 'course not."
"Oh, good."
They came upon the camp, hidden in a glade within the spruce forest and half surrounded by an overhanging cliff. The tents and wagon were stationed around the rocky opening. A campfire was smoldering near some sitting stones and a log. The horses were hitched in a grassy patch near the cliff.
The gentle rumble of a small waterfall sounded on the other side of the cliff as the water cascaded into a basin next to the camp before flowing out into a large river.
Arthur and John hitched their horses with the others and got off. Arthur took the pronghorn off his horse and carried it over to the butcher table to skin later.
He looked around camp. Bessie was washing clothes in the basin while Susan hung some sheets up to dry. Hosea and Dutch were at a table, a chessboard in between them. Both looked to be in deep thought as they considered their tactics. Dutch was black and Hosea white, but Arthur didn't understand chess too well and so was lost at who was winning.
Arthur and John had just taken off their satchels and gun holsters when Susan stamped their way with a look in her eye.
"Uh oh," John muttered.
"John Marston, look at you! You look like you've been in a pigsty!"
"Sorry Miss Grimshaw, my horse threw me on the way home. I'm goin' over to the water barrel right now."
"Oh no! That won't do. You need a bath!" Susan pointed down nearby at the basin of clear, cold water.
John's eyes went wide. "What?! No way! I'd rather be eaten by wolves!"
John slipped behind Arthur to avoid Susan's grabbing hands. Susan stepped around Arthur's back, and the two preceded to chase each other around, using Arthur as an obstacle. Arthur watched them go round and round while arguing, catching Bessie's and their leaders' attentions.
"Arthur, help me!" John cried.
"It's just a bath, you little imp!"
Arthur groaned. He reached out and grabbed John, picking the boy up off the ground easily. He started walking for the basin with John fighting his clutches.
"There's no use fightin' it, John. Let's just get this over with."
He stopped at the water's edge. The water was clear and clean, but the basin sloped fast, becoming deep and turning dark blue in the middle. There were tons of fish in the water, and a gentle ripple came from the waterfall.
"I know you don't like water, but the sooner you get clean, the sooner we can get about our business."
"It's not that!" John hollered, squirming. "I…I can't swim!"
Arthur narrowed his brows. "Whatchu mean you can't swim?"
"Just that, ya dummy! I never learned and ever since I almost drowned, I've been scared to! Now let me go!"
"I know how to fix that."
"Wha-?"
Arthur tossed John into the basin. Susan gawked, jaw going wide as the splash sounded across camp. John burst out of the surface, gasping, limbs flailing. Soon Dutch, Hosea, and Bessie ran up.
"Kick them legs and move them arms, you'll learn!" Arthur yelled.
"You're evil!"
"Arthur, what the hell are you doing?!" Dutch snapped.
"What? That's how my Pa taught me," Arthur defended.
"Your daddy wasn't exactly right in the head then!" Hosea exclaimed.
"Well, he-" Arthur started, but Dutch smacked him hard across the back of the head. "Ow, hey!"
"Get in there and get him before he drowns!"
Arthur jumped into the water and swam the short distance to John. The clean, blue water turned brown from the muck washing away from the flailing boy. Arthur reached out and snagged John, and like a prickly bur, the wild boy seized onto him and wouldn't let him go.
He got to the basin edge and was helped out by Dutch and Hosea. John clung onto Arthur's back, terrified, soaked, and shivering.
"Sorry, John. I thought it would work with you too."
They helped John down. The boy glared up at Arthur, still shivering and dripping wet. "Your pa was an evil bastard, Arthur!"
Arthur shrugged. "I mean, ya ain't wrong."
"You alright, John?" Hosea asked.
"I think…so."
Dutch sighed. "Susan, Bessie, could you please clean him up?"
"Sure, Dutch," Susan replied.
Bessie took John's hand and guided him for the wagon to clean him up and get him fresh clothes. John followed silently, leaving a dripping trail behind.
Arthur felt Dutch's and Hosea's chastising glares on him. He blinked at them. "What?! He got clean didn't he?!"
Dutch shook his head. "You just graduated to a new level of big brother."
"Try to refrain from throwing John into bodies of water in the future until we can teach him how to swim…the proper way," Hosea said.
"Alright, sure." Arthur scratched the back of his neck, looking down at his own soaked form. "Well, s'cuse me, gentlemen. I better change and get to skinnin' an animal."
The sun had disappeared beyond the western horizon, and the stars glowed like perfect orbs across a black sky. Like infinite shining jewels, they lit the sky up in a spray of brilliance. They glimmered so vibrantly, Arthur felt he could reach up and pluck one from the heavens. He admired their beauty while eating his supper. They seemed so…endless.
John sat beside him, wolfing his stew down. The boy still ate like a starved dog, and Arthur was sure the boy ate nearly double he did. He had gained a little weight since being with them, but was still a scrawny twig.
He was clean now, even his hair seemed a bit less greasy. Arthur was surprised he was even sitting next to him. John sure had been mad for Arthur throwing him into the basin.
"John, I'm…sorry for that. I didn't know that almost drownin' freaked you out that much. Ya know, when my Pa did that to me, I panicked, but…but I learned. I guess."
John wiped his mouth with his sleeve, looking up at him. "It's alright. I know you meant well, even if it was really mean. But your Pa…well he weren't right in the head!"
Arthur laughed. "Not arguin' with ya there. But hey, we'll teach ya properly, whenever you're ready."
"Okay."
Dutch approached them at the campfire, a cigar curled in a finger. Hosea and Bessie played dominoes at the table while eating, and Susan read at the other end of the campfire while she ate.
"Arthur, I'm going to need you to come into town with me tomorrow."
Arthur sat his empty plate aside, nodding. "Alright, sure, Dutch. What're we doin'?"
"Meeting a man named Colm O'Driscoll. Supposed to have a good handle on any jobs out this way. We could help each other. He mostly works in California, which is where we're headed. So…could be a promising start."
"Oh, can I come, Dutch?" John asked, thrilled.
Dutch smirked, flicking the ash of his cigar into the campfire. "No, son. Not this time. It may be dangerous. I appreciate your enthusiasm though. Don't worry, you'll get to come with us soon enough."
John frowned. "Okay."
"How's your shootin' coming along?" Dutch asked him.
John glanced up at Arthur then smiled at Dutch. "Comin' along real good, Dutch. I'm gettin' better!"
"Good to hear. Say, how about you and I go out shooting when we get back from town tomorrow? I think it's my turn to give Arthur a little break anyways. I can show ya a little trick you may like."
"Really? Sure!"
Dutch chuckled, ruffling John's head. "That's my boy. Now, don't forget you have a study session with me and Hosea after supper, ya hear?"
"Oh, right. Yes sir."
"Arthur, try to get to bed at a decent time tonight. I need you well-rested for tomorrow, son."
"Don't worry 'bout me, Dutch. I'll be ready."
Dutch patted his shoulder and left the campfire. Arthur sighed and scooped up his empty plate and spoon. John handed over his empty plate as well.
"You want seconds?" Arthur asked.
John shook his head. "Nah, I better get my study over with."
"Yeah, I better get my chores done."
"Will I ever get to go with you and Dutch on jobs?"
"Well, sure. You just got to get better at shootin' and readin' and writin'. You're getting there, John. Dutch is real proud, he praises 'bout you all the time. You'll get to come with us before you know it."
"Ugh, just seems like I'll never get the hang of it."
"You will. I thought the same too. Dutch and Hosea and well…me also…we just don't want anythin' bad to happen to ya. We're just bein' protective, is all."
That got a smile out of John, and he looked grateful. "Thank you, Arthur."
Arthur playfully smacked the boy on the arm. "Course! Now, get over there and learn some readin'. Maybe we can play some dominoes later."
John left to go to Dutch's tent. Arthur took their plates to the wash bin and went to feed and brush the horses. Since the sun went down, the temperature dropped considerably. Arthur knew that winter was getting close, and hoped they would make it to California before the first snow.
After tending to the horses, Arthur helped Susan and Bessie with the laundry and dishes. He stopped to peak into Dutch's tent. A lantern lit the tent up, and showed Dutch sitting next to John and Hosea sitting across from them. John looked like he was mouthing something from a book.
"He's such a good kid. I'm so glad we found him," Bessie said, looking over at the tent as well. "He deserves much better than what's he had growing up."
Arthur slowly nodded. "Yeah. We all had it rough, but he…well, it ain't been easy for the boy. You can tell he ain't used to nobody carin'."
"You're right. He's sure has taken to you though. Follows you all over the camp…eager to go with you hunting or shopping."
Arthur rubbed his neck. "Yeah, well, he likes to follow Dutch around too, ya know."
Bessie giggled. "Ain't nothin' to be embarrassed about, Arthur. He looks up to you. That's always a nice thing."
Arthur softly snorted a chuckle, lowering his head. "Well, he likes you a lot, Bessie. I think…I think he may see you as a mama he ain't never had."
Bessie put a hand over her heart, a smile gracing her beautiful face. "That…That means so much to me. I'm happy to hear that."
Bessie stood up on her tip toes and kissed Arthur on the cheek. "G'night, dear. You boys be careful in town tomorrow, ya hear?"
"Yes, ma'am. G'night."
Arthur went to his tent to do some writing in his journal. He kicked his boots off and took his hat from his head. He pulled the flower from his satchel and admired it for a moment, thinking back to the blurry memories of his mother. He placed the flower in a jar and sat it to the side by his bag and weapons and his pictures.
John's writing and reading lesson went on longer than Arthur thought it would, and so by the time he was done scribbling in his journal, John finally appeared and crawled into the tent with him. Arthur wasn't surprised. The boy had his own tent now, but there were many nights that he slept with Arthur in his tent. It annoyed Arthur at first, but he had come accustomed to it and didn't gripe about it…too much.
"How'd it go?" Arthur asked, shading the sketch he drew of his Ma's flower.
"Good, I s'pose. Went on longer than usual. We didn't even get to play a game."
"Maybe tomorrow then."
"You draw really good."
Arthur pulled the journal closer to him so John couldn't see. "Don't be peekin'. This is for my eyes only."
"Dutch has a similar journal. He has some drawings in there, but not as much as yours. He writes real fancy though. Maybe one day I'll be able to read what it says."
Arthur heaved a sigh. "You ain't supposed to read or go through other people's things. It's rude and wrong. Better not let Dutch catch ya doin' that, or he may tan your hide."
"Ain't that what we do though? We go through folks' things and steal them?"
Arthur snorted. "Gotta point there. I meant your friends' things."
"Do they always stay up late talkin'?" John asked, looking out of the tent.
Arthur followed his gaze out of the tent and across the way. Hosea and Dutch sat at the table, both peering at the stars as they smoked on cigars. Hosea pointed at something in the sky while talking, but Arthur couldn't make the words out.
"Most nights, yeah."
"What do they talk about?"
Arthur grumbled. "I dunno. Life, philosophy, their dreams. All kinds of things."
"Must be nice to have a friend that you can do that with. To have all your trust in, to care for you and have your back. That you can tell all your hopes and fears to and-and know they will do anythin' for you."
Arthur closed his eyes, releasing a quiet breath. He reached over and grabbed his hat. He placed it on John's head. John smiled, his eyes tearing away from Dutch and Hosea to look up at Arthur.
"You have that right here. We all got your back, kid. We all care about you, and will never let anything like what happened back at that homestead ever happen to you again. You need someone to confide in…we're here."
John's cheeks flushed, but he looked so happy as he reached up at felt Arthur's hat. "Thanks…Arthur. I…I never thought I would find a place I could belong."
"Well, now you have."
"I promise, I will learn and become strong like you and will return it...I'll be loyal and strong and do anything in my power to help and protect you folks. I care 'bout all y'all very much."
Arthur chuckled. "Alright, alright. No need to get all emotional. I get ya and I have no doubt in it. Now, c'mon, let's get some shut eye. We got a long day tomorrow."
Arthur laid on his pallet and fluffed his pillow. He sat his journal aside by his satchel. John got comfortable on the other side of the tent on his own pallet, still keeping Arthur's hat on his head.
"Why do you like my hat so much anyways?" Arthur asked as he snuffed out the lantern.
"I don't really know. When I first saw you in Hickory, I just thought it was neat looking, and wanted it. But now…I think it's 'cause it's yours, and it makes you look like one of them legends or heroes you hear in them wild west tales. And when I wear it…I feel like maybe I can be like you one day. Brave, and strong, and loyal. That I can be a good man."
"Not sure if I'm any good. What we do ain't good. But you'll be a man one day. I plan to give that hat to my son, if I ever have kids that is. But who knows…maybe one day, I'll give it to you instead."
"I always wondered what it would be like."
Arthur glanced over John's way, but couldn't see him in the dark. Only the dancing of flames shimmered within the tent.
"Wondered what?"
"What it would be like to have a brother."
Arthur softly smiled. "Me too."
A/N: And there's the end of that story! Hope you all enjoyed it! ^^ I've had a few people PM me and ask me to do another short multi-fic around how Dutch and Hosea met and how they met Arthur, so I might do that! I am also thinking about doing a one-shot on my take on what happened in Blackwater too. We'll see! If you haven't already, check out the first chapter to my multi-chapter fic in progress Blessed are the Peacekeepers. The second chapter is in the works. Thanks for sticking with this short story! Have a good week friends! :D