GANG HIDEOUTS DISCOVERED, GANGS DECIMATED

From the mining town of Annesburg to the great city of Saint Denis, and even further to the growing Blackwater, it appears the law has finally taken control of the land. Two more gangs in the area have been broken apart by the Pinkerton Detective Agency and local law. Details are still coming in, but initial reports indicate the group known as the Van der Linde gang, and its rival, the O'Driscoll Boys have been thoroughly and completely annihilated. With only a few sporadic groups plaguing the countryside, it won't be long before the lawless are fully eradicated and these United States are safe once again.

September 1899

New York

Josiah sighed, set his newspaper aside and picked up his glass of scotch. So, it seemed the authorities had finally caught up to his friends. He had no way of knowing just who had been 'annihilated' and who had possibly slipped the law's grasp as he had.

Josiah had managed to reunite with his family in New York. After a bit of groveling for his absence, he eventually regained his wife's favor. By all accounts, he'd become a normal citizen with no obvious criminal past. He'd found a job as a salesman in a high-end clothing store for men. It was easy work and sometimes amusing, but nowhere near as thrilling as the work he was used to.

He'd be deceiving himself if he said his mind never itched for something...more stimulating. Gone were the days where he could plot schemes with Hosea and Dutch, celebrate with the boys when they pulled off a successful take, and entertain the ladies at camp with his charm.

There were days the ennui was enough to tempt him into performing undetectable misdemeanors. Just a little pickpocketing here and there, and only from the most careless sods he encountered.

Yet, Lydia was happy with him these days, now that he had a regularly scheduled career. He enjoyed the work enough, but mostly he appreciated the steady paycheck.

"Josiah," his wife called, opening the door to his den and gliding in. "You've been sitting in here for hours. What is it you're doing?"

Pensively musing over the freedom lost, he silently answered her. No longer could he gallivant across the country, meet new people and experience new adventures. He would miss those times and the friends he'd never see again.

Lydia stopped beside his chair and rested a hand on his shoulder. "What's troubling you, darling?"

"Oh nothing, my dear." Josiah picked up her hand and kissed her fingers. "Only that it seems to be an end of an era."

XXXXXXXXX

VAN DER LINDE GANG LEADER KILLED! BLACKWATER FERRY ROBBERY MONEY RECOVERED!

It was a nerve-wracking night for the people of Blackwater. Agents have been staked out in the town for nearly a week anticipating a return of the thieves.

Their patience turned out not to be in vain. On Saturday night, close to midnight, a small group of thugs originating from the Van der Linde gang tried to sneak into the city. Two had planned to ignite dynamite in the center of town, to no doubt cause harm and chaos while the others attempted to recover a money stash hidden unexpectedly in a grave. By the end of the night, the Pinkerton agents successfully captured the troublemakers without any civilian casualties.

Dutch van der Linde, who was wanted in multiple states dead or alive, has been taken down by Pinkerton agents. Two of his associates were apprehended, Bill Williamson and Javier Escuella. Witnesses describe the involvement of two more men, but it is not known at this time as to their whereabouts. In any case, the capture of these men should be a warning to all outlaws that their crime sprees are at an end.

October 1899

Tumbleweed

It was a good day to die, Javier thought morosely, as he lay rotting in a cell.

It was also day to ruminate on outcomes he couldn't change. They'd killed Dutch in Blackwater's cemetery. It made Javier ill to think such a great man had been murdered in so cowardly a manner.

On that fateful night, Pinkertons had ambushed him and Bill the moment they'd rolled into town. Neither one had a chance to shoot before they were thrown to the ground and handcuffed. They had been stuck in separate cells, waiting for two days to be rescued from the Blackwater jailhouse. No one came.

On the third day, they hung Bill, and Javier lost all hope. He believed he was next until he overheard orders that he would be sent back to Mexico. Javier spent another couple of weeks in Blackwater before his transfer started. He was taken under heavy guard to Armadillo first, where he ended up stuck for nearly a month when an outbreak of cholera happened. Eventually, he was moved again.

Javier sat now in a Tumbleweed cell, in a room walled off from the sheriff's desk. They told him to his face they weren't risking another prisoner sharing his cell or the one next to it. Soon he would be in Mexico, and then the real punishment would begin.

Javier had originally left his home country because he'd killed a politically influential man. He left not because he was scared for his own life, but for his family's.

It was nothing new, as Javier's life had never been simple. If his mother was to be believed, he'd been in and out of trouble since he learned to walk. And he'd been searching for freedom since as far as back as he could remember. As a child, that had meant escaping his father's drunken rages. As a young adult, it had meant taking any job that paid. And now? Well, he'd ended up in America for a reason, to keep ahead of his pursuers. He'd kept safe for years because he'd followed Dutch's command. But he couldn't do that anymore.

Dutch had given him so much. Dutch had cared when everyone else left him to starve. Dutch had fed him, clothed him and given him a home. But Dutch was dead and the people who he saw as his family? They were all dead too for all he knew. He had nothing left.

What were his options now?

The door to the adjoining room opened and Javier stilled in his cot. He had his back against the wall, eyes staring unseeing towards the other side.

Tumbleweed's deputy entered the room several times a day to mock and anger him. Javier tightened his hands into fists and refused to be baited into rage.

The footsteps stopped at the iron-barred door. There was silence in the room a moment as the deputy kept his peace on the other side of the bars, but Javier knew it was temporary so he refused to look. It was only another game to piss him off.

"I thought I told you not to get caught, Javier."

It was not the hoarse, goading voice of the officer, but a gentle, soft-spoken feminine one. While not loud in volume, the voice startled him into bolting from the cot and rushing to the bars. "Tilly!"

Unless he was having an hallucination, Tilly stood before him, in a dark blue dress and feathered ladies' riding hat. He said in disbelief, "Tilly, esta mi imagición?

Tilly stepped close to the bars, reaching her hands in and he grabbed one, taking solace in her touch. She was no specter. She was really here.

"Javier, what happened?" Tilly asked him with deep concern.

"It all went wrong," Javier answered, in misery. "We went back to Blackwater. The Pinkertons had a trap set. Me and Bill were taken before I knew what to do." Javier swallowed. "They killed Bill."

Quietly, Tilly lamented, "I heard Dutch was killed too."

Javier dropped his head and murmured, "Que descanse en paz."

Javier had been grieving Dutch's loss heavily, but Tilly was the first person who'd expressed true remorse over Dutch's death in the same way he had.

He confessed to her, "I failed him. I couldn't save him."

Tilly's hands squeezed his. "There woulda been nothing you could have done. I'm sure of it. You're lucky to have made it out."

"Lucky," he said bitterly. "This is lucky?"

"You're alive," she scolded. "That's more than some of us."

For the first time, he wondered at her presence, at how she'd entered. There was not a chance the deputy would allow him a visitor.

"Tilly, what are you doing here? If they know you're associated with me, you're not safe. They'll arrest you too."

Her expression cleared as she turned up a mischievous smile. "Didn't I tell you, Javier?" She released his hand and pulled from her skirt pocket a set of keys. "I'm here to set you free."

He stared at her. She chuckled and started to unlock the cell door. "I'll have to take note of the day I left Javier Escuella speechless."

He whispered in awe, "Eres asombrosa, querida."

"It ain't nothin'." She swung open the door. "Now, come on."

They hastily left the cell to the main sheriff's room. The deputy was slumped over his desk, unconscious. Javier sent Tilly an impressed glance before he freed the sleeping deputy of his gun.

Outside, it was evening and the streets were deserted. Music and the general sound of rowdiness drifted from the saloon next door, but there were no witnesses as he and Tilly stole the deputy's horses.

They rode straight out of town and him without a backward glance. It was good to have the ground below him and the sweet taste of freedom once more.

When Javier determined they were far enough to take a break, he slowed and turned off towards an abandoned shack. As he dismounted, Tilly handed him a canteen with water.

"Gracias," he thanked her, his eyes moving to watch the path behind them.

Dawn approached and it was a certainty bounty hunters and other law would be on his tail. The question was how long he had. He needed to think of his next steps.

"Where will you go now?" Tilly asked, voicing his concerns.

"I don't know. Back to Mexico, I suppose."

She stared at him. "You want to go where they were just about to send you?"

He said defensively, "It would be on my own terms."

"You'll die down there."

"If I want to die for my country, that is my business."

"Javier."

"What choice do I have?" he asked sharply. He had nothing else. Dutch was dead, the gang dissolved. Besides America, Mexico was the only place he knew well. He was now as infamous in America, but without a group of outlaws to depend on.

Yet Tilly's concern was not unfounded. He loved his country. But there was a possibility he could be caught and executed by the law if he went to Mexico. When he returned, he'd slip back into his old revolutionary ways. While he believed in the cause, he wasn't certain of his reception. Would he be welcomed with open arms? Or tossed in another prison for what others saw as treason?

Tilly threw up her hands, frustrated. "Maybe I should have saved myself the trouble from coming all this way."

Javier knew she didn't mean that, but he'd rarely seen her so fired up. Her hidden passion flaring reminded him of the kiss they'd shared at the hunting lodge. Of exploring her soft lips and her shyly responding to him.

He caught Tilly's hand, pulled her close. He said impulsively, "Come with me."

She flinched at his sudden movement. "What?"

He'd nearly forgotten he needed to be gentle and slow with her, that she was skittish. He said decisively, "Let's find our way together."

"You're crazy," Tilly said dismissively.

"No." He caught her chin and implored her with his eyes. "I'm serious, Tilly. Run away with me."

She looked away. "You ain't thinkin' it through."

"Yes, I am," he stated. It was a spur of the moment suggestion, but one he felt with conviction.

"I can't."

"Why not?" he persisted.

"We don't want the same things, Javier."

"We—"

"No. I want a house, a husband and a means to live the rest of my life in comfort. You can't give me those things."

Javier felt her words cut him. "I could—"

"No, Javier. You couldn't. I've known you for years and you like living on the wild side. I ain't like that. I've heard how you lived in Mexico and that war isn't mine."

He didn't know what else to say. She was thinking with practicality and she was right. If he took her to Mexico, he knew where he'd end up. It wasn't her fight, her revolution. She should return to Saint Denis, marry a wealthy dud and become some rich lady. Javier could return to Mexico, rise in the ranks again and take down the establishment. The usual surge of country pride over this plan didn't surface. His passion lay somewhere else now.

"This is how it is," Tilly said quietly. "We're on two different life paths, Javier."

Javier remained silent a moment, studying her as an idea slowly took form. "We don't have to stay on those paths."

She didn't look at him. "Yes, we do."

"Tilly, there is something between us. Something real."

"But nothing lasting," she shot back, not denying their connection.

Was that what she was concerned about? That his heart wasn't true? That she'd only be a fleeting interest before something else caught his attention?

"It can be," Javier told her.

She bit her lip. "I don't know."

Most people in this world were thieves. They stole the lives and hopes of others. But Tilly wasn't one of them. She'd given him life and hope again. She'd done so at the detriment of her own and he couldn't let her go so easily.

"You didn't take a train across the states if you didn't seek something more. Won't you give it a chance?"

"Where would we go?" she challenged.

"Anywhere."

"How? How can we survive?"

"Sometimes, Tilly." Javier moved closer to her. "You need to make a leap of faith."

She stared at him with large, uncertain eyes. She whispered, "What if I'm afraid to fall?"

He rested his palm on her cheek and said simply, "I will catch you."

Javier waited for her answer, not allowing himself to push her anymore than he already had. She looked across the desert plains. While he waited, he heard his own heart drum loudly in his chest. When it came down to it, Tilly had no reason to stay with him. She could survive on her own. In fact, of the two of them, he would be holding her back. Never had he been so anxious for a woman's acceptance. If she said no—

"Yes." Tilly faced him, lifted her chin and said with confidence, "I will go with you, Javier."

"Carina," he murmured in relief. He slowly lowered his head to kiss her. Tilly responded, her mouth warm and soft, and leaving him heady and wanting more.

Javier had always chased what he believed in with passion, with every fiber of his being. And right now, it was Tilly he believed in.

XXXXXXXXX

REVEREND SWANSON'S LAST DAY

Join us this Sunday at Saint Stephen's Church to hear the inspirational story of Reverend Swanson for the final time, a man who has spoken candidly of his break from faith and the trials that brought him around again. Services begin at 7:30, breakfast to be served afterward.

June 1900

Findlay, Ohio

"Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest," Orville spoke with devotion. "Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me, for I am meek and lonely in hearts and ye shall find rest unto your souls."

"Today, go forth and be a positive light to someone in need."

He ended his sermon with the same message he always did, with hope coursing through his soul and God filling his heart. Afterwards, in the reception area, he mingled with his patrons. He blessed the ones that needed his attention most, and provided as best advice as he could to those in desperate need of a little kindness. He wanted his congregation to consist of forgiving souls.

At the end of the morning, when most folks left to eat their meal together, Orville returned to the podium and collected his notes.

"You have a gift with your speech."

Orville turned and found a clergyman he didn't recognize. He said humbly, "Thank you, sir. I speak honestly, and from the heart."

The clergyman nodded. "Yes, I can tell. You inspire the entire congregation."

"Thank you," Orville said again.

"I saw on the sign outside you are noted only as the guest speaker. Why is that?"

"Oh." Orville explained, "I've been filling in for Father O'Rourke the last few weeks. But he expects to be fully recovered by this coming Sunday."

"So, you're not affiliated with this church full time?"

"I'm sorry. Is there any reason for this questioning, sir?" Orville asked, growing tense. He'd forgotten how dangerous it could be to speak with strangers, so comfortable he'd grown in his new life. "And who are you?"

The clergyman laughed. "Oh, good gracious. Pardon my rudeness. I am merely excited." The man held out his hand. "I'm Pastor Philips. I'm passing by and I have been looking for a fellow such as yourself, so filled with the Holy Spirit."

"Oh?" Orville said with surprise, his anxiety changing to curiosity.

"Would you be interested in running a church in New York, Reverend? It's quite the relocation, but you'd surely be a great fit."

"You want me to run my own church?"

"Yes."

Orville couldn't speak for a moment. It was a dream come true. He'd worked through his flaws, spoke the word of God, and now the Lord had answered his prayers. Elated, Orville said, "I would be honored, sir."

Orville spoke longer with Pastor Philips, learned the details of the church and what kind of people he would be servicing. He would be guiding so many souls. More importantly, he was wanted, he was needed. His discussion was interrupted briefly by one of the secretaries of the church who handed him a letter.

After his meeting with Pastor Philips, Orville eventually got the chance to read his letter. It turned out to be a wedding invite and not only that, a request of his services to officiate.

Orville felt tears prick his eyes. Once upon a time he would have never been considered for this honor. He'd been a lowlife, poor and lost. Today, his life had changed. His hard work had paid off. This was the happiest day of his life.

XXXXXXXXX

BOUNTIES BEWARE: ADLER IS HOT ON THE TRAIL

From the words of those she's chased down, Sadie Adler is relentless, cunning and fearless. Despite her nonthreatening size, and previously unknown reputation, this bounty hunter and her companions have proved they can run down outlaws and flush out bandits with ease. Law enforcement has been more than happy to hand their dirty work over to Adler and her crew. Police Chief Oswald Dunbar says, "Crooks beware, Adler is coming after you."

July 1900

Blackwater

"Get those hands up, Cole," Sadie shouted, raising her rifle.

The fool stumbled in the grass and turned around. "I didn't do nothing."

"I got a bounty on you that says otherwise." And it didn't matter besides. She'd been doing this type of work for nearly a year and they all had stories or excuses. She didn't care. This was a job, and it didn't pay to be lenient.

This particular criminal she'd found in Blackwater, but he'd leapt on a horse when he saw her and took off towards Tall Trees. She'd tracked him down with some effort and she wasn't feeling merciful.

"All I did—"

Sadie stepped forward. "I don't care the whos and whats about it. You got a nice prize on your head and I mean to claim it."

"I'm sorry, miss, but I can't let you." He hastily pulled his own gun out and pointed it at her.

Damn it. "Now, take it easy, before I do something you ain't gonna like." Any other bounty, she'd shoot now and not try to reason with him. But Mr. Cole's reward dropped dramatically if he wasn't brought back alive.

Luckily, she wasn't alone.

"Drop the gun, Cole." Karen came up beside Sadie and swung her shotgun into view.

He didn't release his gun, whipping his arm from her to Karen wildly. "I can take the two of you."

Behind him, Lenny pressed down the hammer of his pistol and rested it on the back of Cole's head. "How about three?"

Cole dropped his gun right quick and started sniveling. Karen pushed him to the ground and proceeded to tie his hands behind his back.

With Lenny's help, the two of them lifted their bounty while Sadie whistled for their horses.

"Quit squirming," Karen cursed.

Maggie, Old Belle and Bob came around and the two hefted Mr. Cole onto Bob, the largest horse of the three.

"Another job well done, eh, Sadie?" Karen said, wiping her brow.

"It coulda gone down smoother. I reckon one of you could have lassoed him before we had to chase him out of town."

"You hear that, Lenny?" Karen turned her mount towards Lenny. "Underappreciated again."

"Well, I ain't paying you two for subpar work," Sadie replied, only half-serious.

"O-ho, the truth comes out," Lenny laughed.

Since she knew they were just giving her hell for the sake of it, Sadie pressed into Bob to move forward and the other two followed, side-by-side.

Lenny said, "You know, I coulda been a lawyer, if I followed what my Pa wanted."

Karen rolled her eyes and reached over to give him a little shove from atop her horse. "Then go be a lawyer."

"Nah." Lenny grinned. "You'd miss me too much."

"Alright," Sadie said, loosening the reins. "Let's get this feller to Blackwater."

They rode through the trees, overly cautious because a bunch of deplorables calling themselves the Skinner Brothers roamed these parts and attacked people on a daily basis.

The local authority around Blackwater was dragging its heels in pushing back the threat to travelers. Sadie knew why they hesitated. They hadn't the numbers to decimate the Skinners and were waiting for reinforcement from Washington D.C., which could take months or even years.

They reached Blackwater, deposited their quarry to the jail and collected their money. Afterwards, they split the money and headed over to the saloon for breakfast.

Karen and Lenny left halfway through the meal, claiming they wanted to change their outfits and get cleaned up.

Sadie knew what that meant. She called after them, "Don't forget what we're doing this afternoon."

They only laughed with each other, held hands and ran up the stairs. Sadie shook her head and ordered a whiskey at the bar. When it came, she took a swig. As she set the glass down, someone sat on the stool next to her.

"I always did like a woman who took her drink before noon."

Sadie snorted and turned her stool to face a grinning Uncle. "Shut up, you old creep."

"Now that's not a greeting I want after not seeing you in ages."

She rolled her eyes. "I saw you last week, idiot."

"Seems like ages ago to me." Uncle eyed her up and down, focusing on her duster. "This what you wearing to the wedding?"

"Yeah." Sadie raised a brow. "Why? Is it gonna be some high class affair or something?"

"Well, no," Uncle mumbled. "But I was looking forward to seeing you all dolled up."

She turned back to her drink. "You first."

Uncle guffawed loudly and slapped his leg. "You're a firecracker, Mrs. Adler. Were I a few years younger, I'd be pursuing you."

"And you'd get just as far as you are now."

"Oh, I used to be quite the charmer in my day, missus."

"Sure, old man."

"Oh, Charles! Over here!"

Sadie turned again, watching Charles walk across the bar. He nodded her way. She'd heard he'd been hanging around Blackwater for a few months, since John bought a plot of land, but it was the first time she'd seen him in nearly a year.

"Good to see you, Charlie-boy," Uncle greeted cheerfully.

Charles didn't return a friendly expression. "You were supposed to be watching the wagon, Uncle."

Uncle's grin crumpled with exaggeration. "I needed a break from the sun."

Charles stared him down.

"Fine. I'm going. But if you find me collapsed in the street, you'll know who to blame."

Charles shook his head as Uncle left their company for duty. He took the stool Uncle had vacated.

Knowing what he'd been up to lately, Sadie asked him, "How goes the house building?"

"House is done, but John's working on getting furniture." He raised an eyebrow. "You haven't been out there?"

Sadie shrugged. "We stay busy."

"So I hear." Charles nodded. "The law in this area hasn't had to hunt bounties since you got down here."

She eyed him. "You know, I could afford one more gun on staff."

He provided her a brief smile. "I'm honored at the offer, but that sort of work doesn't interest me."

She couldn't help but feel some disappointment, but she shook it off. "If you change your mind, let me know."

"You'd be the first." Charles stood. "You ready for the wedding?"

"Yeah." Sadie stood also. "The way John tells it, it'll be more like a reunion."

"It won't be all of us," Charles said somberly.

Sadie wondered who exactly he meant. Those they lost a year ago or someone they lost recently? Or did he really mean someone who couldn't make the trip?

Only one way to find out. Sadie finished off her whiskey. "Let's round up Lenny and Karen and get on to Beecher's Hope."

XXXXXXXXX

EDGAR ROSS RETIRES, HONORED AT CEREMONY

Edgar Ross served for many years as a senior agent with the Pinkerton Detective Agency under the mentorship of the late Andrew Milton and then went onto work at the National Chiefs of Police Union in 1896, which was tasked to record information on criminals and gangs and work with law enforcement. He has been billed as one of the most humble, innovative and honest law enforcement officers of his class, and colleagues say that Ross produces results where others fail.

After a gunfight that occurred last year against who was once this country's most dangerous outlaw, Dutch van der Linde, Ross has not done much fieldwork. He sustained a wound in his last stand against the outlaw gangs.

His mentor, Agent Andrew Milton, suffered a worse fate, in another gang bust attempt. His promise to rid this country of the scourge that was the Van der Linde gang has been seen, but at the cost of his life.

Today marks Ross's first day of retirement. While he states he'll remain on as a consultant for the Bureau, his ground investigation days are over.

June 1900

Beecher's Hope

John leaned against the fence, staring out at the land, house and farm that was his. The sight filled him with immense pride as it represented inarguable proof that he really could make something of himself without standing on the shoulders of anyone else.

True, it had nearly not ended up like that. In the first six months after they parted from Arthur, and then later from Charles, he'd searched for a place for them to settle. He'd taken his family to a gold rush town called Sutter Creek. John had heard on their travels that the rivers were practically flowing with gold. He found out too late they didn't make it in time to be part of that success.

They had been running out of money fast, with few prospects, when John decided to write Arthur a letter. He didn't say much of their desperation, only that his luck hadn't shown itself.

Arthur and Charlotte had written back promptly, and had sent a gift. He and Abigail had been confused to see a Bible, as neither one got much out of religion, and Abigail couldn't read besides, even though she'd been practicing. He'd thought Arthur crazy until he opened it up.

There was $5000 stashed in the book instead of pages. He and Abigail had been in shock at the gift, but decided immediately that it was time to move. Abigail had suggested a plot outside Blackwater, after finding land for sale in an ad.

They purchased Beecher's Hope and got a loan for building a house. When John went to the lumberyard, Uncle turned up like he could sniff out the next people to take advantage of. But, John didn't regret his presence fully since Uncle had given him advice on how to order the materials for the house, and Uncle had known how to find Charles, who had been a great help with the build.

When they'd first arrived in Beecher's Hope, which had been nothing more than a broken shack, John wouldn't have said any of it had been easy, but from the other side of it, it seemed so now. There had been more than a few times he and Abigail had gotten into heated arguments over the difficulty in seeing Beecher's Hope's potential. Usually, she ended up so angry, she'd take the boy and stay in the hotel in Blackwater for the night.

But she thankfully always came back. And once the house came along, and he proposed, everything smoothed over. It helped to have Karen in town, to sometimes talk to Abigail.

As much as Abigail liked visiting with their friends, he knew them being around made her edgy. Abigail still worried about getting chased or trapped by the law, like Dutch had.

Whenever John thought of Dutch, part of him regretted not being there when Pinkertons shot him dead. He'd died alone with no back-up. Much as he disagreed with Dutch at the end, he'd still loved him as the father figure who had saved him from the noose as a child.

But Dutch had made him choose between him and his family, and John didn't regret for a second the choice he decided on.

"Pa!" Jack came running up the field with their newest addition to the family, Rufus, loping excitedly beside him. "Mama says you need to come home."

I am home, he wanted to answer with irritation. He was still on the property, wasn't he? But Jack didn't deserve to receive any snappish remarks. And neither did Abigail. At least for today, of all days.

John was still working out how to play father. Every day seemed to present a new challenge and he still didn't feel as if he fit the role. But when he did right, he knew. Jack would beam and Abigail would sheathe her sword tongue and he felt like he belonged.

It helped now that they were nearly done with building the farm. Abigail and Jack had been more content since the house's completion. And so had he.

"Alright, Jack. Let's get home." Spontaneously, he added, "But how about a race?"

Jack agreed excitedly and the two of them lined up at the fence line. At go, they took off on foot towards the house, sprinting through the tall grass and down the hill. John eased up when they neared the house and let the boy have his victory. Although Rufus acted the real winner, barking and making laps around them the whole way.

"I won!" Jack exclaimed, lifting his arms.

"That you did," John chuckled as he tousled his son's hair. "Nice job."

"John!" Abigail marched out of the house and down the steps to them. "You ain't even dressed yet? What are you doing?"

John faced her. "The boy and I were in a race."

"I won, Mama! I won!"

Seeing the two of them, her expression and tone softened. "That's wonderful, Jack. But go inside and get yourself cleaned up before the guests start arriving."

Jack ran inside, his trusty companion Rufus following. John stepped up the porch to stand near Abigail, noticing her hair done up and a white dress accenting her figure in an attractive way.

He murmured, "You look pretty as a picture, Miss Roberts."

"Shut up," she snapped, but he saw her cheeks bloom pink. "It ain't nothing fancy, but it'll do."

"It sure will," he told her, dropping a kiss on her temple. "It's our wedding day."

She smiled up at him. "It is, isn't it?" Her mouth pursed. "Or it will be if you get a move on."

"Yes, dear."

John did as his soon-to-be wife asked. He cleaned his face, combed his hair and found the suit Abigail had picked out for him. When he believed he was fit enough for his own wedding, he went back outside. It had been long enough that most of their guests had arrived.

Reverend Swanson was the first one he spotted. It was by chance John had seen an article in the newspaper about his success. At Abigail's encouragement, they'd invited him to come out to officiate. Although if Lenny's expression was any indication, at least one of their guests was regretting Swanson's inclusion.

Charles had somehow got himself stuck mediating an argument between Abigail and Uncle. Close by, Karen and Sadie were in a conversation with Mr. Pearson, who had brought a lady friend.

John had come across Pearson one afternoon when he'd chanced a day to step into Rhodes. Abigail had berated him later for the risk until he'd told her about finding Pearson running the general store.

On the trail leading up to the house, John heard horses. He turned, spying three more guests riding in. John lifted his head hopefully, but dropped in disappointment when he saw it wasn't who he wanted it to be. Instead, these guests confused him because, of the three, he hadn't invited two of them.

Mary-Beth dismounted from her mare near him, saying, "I hope you don't mind. I brought a couple of extra guests."

Unexpectedly, Javier and Tilly rode up beside her. Tilly, John didn't mind, as they would have invited her if they'd known how to reach her. But Javier...

Javier had once been his brother, but his blind loyalty to Dutch had drawn up a wall between them. Javier had chosen not to help him, or Abigail.

"John," Javier acknowledged with a nod of his head.

John clipped out, "I thought you were dead."

"I was given a second chance."

"What are you doing here?" John kept his tone even, though his anger was simmering just below the surface. He had laid aside his guns months ago at Abigail's request, so they could start a new life, but that didn't mean he wouldn't fight.

"Welcome, welcome!" Abigail greeted as she walked up to them. She hugged Tilly and then Mary-Beth tightly. "I didn't think you girls would make it."

Mary-Beth scrunched up her nose. "Are you kidding? We wouldn't miss this day for the world."

John had told Abigail a long time ago of how everything had went down with Dutch and who had turned their back on him. But she either didn't remember or was too caught up in the day to care who had wronged who. She waved to Javier without any animosity, her elation in no way dampened at his arrival.

"Come on, you three," said Abigail. "Let's catch up some before we start the ceremony."

John hadn't expected her easy acceptance of Javier so he was frozen in place a moment while he tried to process it. Mary-Beth and Tilly followed Abigail right away, but Javier didn't move. He stared in the direction of their friends, hope rising in his eyes. But he looked to John for permission before moving forward.

John sighed. If Abigail didn't hold a grudge, why should he? It'd been her life on the line.

"Come on in. We'll get started shortly, I expect."

The group of them chatted for another hour until John noticed Abigail starting to pass him knowing looks that signaled her readiness to begin the ceremony, but he waited longer.

John didn't have cold feet. He was ready to marry Abigail. The day was growing long but there was still one guest he'd been hoping to see, and John was willing to hold off the wedding a little if it meant he could make it in time.

But the odds of Arthur making it here didn't seem to be in John's favor. He finally had to give up when Abigail sent him her fifth irked look.

They gathered everyone at the side of the house, where the sun's glare wasn't as fierce. John once again felt satisfaction since the home they'd put together would be the backdrop of their wedding.

Swanson started his speech and everyone hushed. "We are gathered here today to unite John and Abigail, two fine individuals who have generously allowed us back in their lives."

"Oh, brother," Karen muttered, but not quiet enough to keep to herself.

Swanson continued, unperturbed, "It is with this bond you must be completely humble and gentle: be patient, bearing with one another in love. They must make every effort to keep the unity of the spirit through the bond of peace."

John soon lost his attention of Swanson's speech. He'd forgotten even when Swanson was drunk, he was long-winded. Now that he was sober, he could string more words together for longer.

"...we must encourage one another and build each other up..."

John wished more than anything in this moment that Arthur was here at his wedding so he could see how far he'd come.

"...these three shall remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is, of course, love..."

John looked to Abigail and suddenly it didn't matter who was there and who wasn't there. He'd chosen Abigail and she'd chosen him. They were committed to each other and the rest of their friends could see it.

"Above all else, you must love each other deeply because love covers a multitude of sins."

John had plenty of sins that Abigail had forgiven. Swanson droned on for awhile again and John got lost in Abigail's teary smile. He'd never seen her so happy and never over anything he'd done.

"Let mercy, peace, and love be yours in abundance," Swanson concluded. "And, now, dear friends, for your vows.

John squeezed Abigail's hands and repeated the words Swanson told him, and listened with a sort of awe as Abigail did the same. They kissed and he had the overwhelming realization of what the rest of his life looked like. This was how he could be content.

His friends' clapping brought him back to the present. He and Abigail faced the crowd as a newly married couple.

And that's when John saw Arthur at the back of the group, clapping along with them.

For a moment, John wasn't sure if he was seeing a ghost of Arthur or the man in the flesh until Abigail clutched his arm and gasped beside him. "He made it, John. He's here."

The next few minutes were a flurry of chaos. John received congratulations, but soon everyone turned to Arthur to greet him, and Charlotte too, who laughed as Karen lifted her in a hug.

Eventually, Abigail was able to get everyone to break apart by announcing food would be served inside the house. Most of the group started for the meal, while Abigail and John stayed behind to speak with Arthur and Charlotte.

"Hell of a wedding," Arthur commented.

"Didn't know if you'd show," John said, shaking his hand in greeting. "Hadn't heard from you in awhile."

Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. "I, uh, wasn't feelin' too well recently."

"How's it been for you?"

Arthur admitted. "We're survivin', but only just."

John frowned. "Don't you have all that money?"

"It ain't the money that's the problem."

Charlotte explained, "Finding work has been...difficult."

John turned to Arthur, who looked away. "Some days I just don't got the energy. Turns out, I can't keep a stable job if my work effort ain't stable. Not to mention, it seems most of my skills ain't compatible with the places we've been stayin'."

John understood that sentiment too well. As safe and busy as it was, the life of a farmer was not exciting. Sadie had invited John once on one of her bounty hunts. He'd done well, but Abigail hadn't cared for it one bit. She'd given him an earful he wouldn't soon forget.

"We ain't earning enough to buy our own place like you," continued Arthur.

"This? This is mostly loans," John told them, feeling like he had to downplay their success so it didn't seem as if he were bragging. "We were able to buy the land straight out, but the house, and the barn we're building over there, we've got it out on loan too. We'll eventually have to buy sheep straight out though."

"Whatever it is, it's a nice place you got here. You've done well for yourselves. Happy to see you three landed on your feet."

John felt the pride swell again, but there was more meaning behind it. He hadn't always got along with Arthur, but he sure as hell had always admired him. And his praise was hard-won so it meant something to hear.

"So you're not settled anywhere?" asked Abigail, her brow furrowing.

Arthur shook his head and Charlotte said, "The last few months we've been staying with one of my relatives in Oregon."

"What if you lived with us?" Abigail suggested unexpectedly.

Startled, John and Arthur stared at each other. "What?"

Abigail began, "We've got the extra bedroom—"

"No, you don't!" Uncle spoke out from what seemed like nowhere. He'd apparently planted himself against the porch in order to eavesdrop. "That ain't an extra room. That's my room."

Abigail crinkled her nose at him. "Give me one good reason why we shouldn't throw you out. I pick up after you more than anyone else."

"You wouldn't throw old Uncle to the wolves," Uncle said in a wounded manner. "You're all I got these days."

"We wouldn't want to displace him," Charlotte said, falling into his pity trap.

John was about to say to hell with Uncle, when an idea slowly occurred to him. "You know, we have plenty of land. If you got the funds, we could build a small house. Maybe on the southern hill? I'm told that soil's too rocky for farming anyway."

Arthur and Charlotte looked at each other, clearly interested in his proposal. It would make John happy if they took him up on it. He wanted to repay Arthur for helping him save Abigail and for the money they'd selflessly passed along when they didn't have to. Not to mention, John would just plain like having Arthur around.

"Hey, wait a minute," Uncle interrupted. "Why ain't you offered to build me a house?"

Before John had a chance for a snarky response, Karen hollered from the front door, "What are y'all doing over there? Party's in here!"

"Come on," Arthur clapped a hand on John's shoulder. "We can talk about this in the morning. Tonight, we should be celebrating you and Abigail."

They all went inside and had a meal with the others. Tilly and Javier told them of their travels, Mary-Beth of her progress on her book, and Charles of what possible future he may pursue.

They discussed those they'd lost and those who lived, but went their separate ways. John spoke of the ambitions he had for the farm, and received some helpful input from Arthur.

Too soon, it turned late enough for a couple of them needing to leave. Pearson wanted to get his wife home before dark set in and Swanson had a train to catch tonight if he wanted to make it back to New York before Sunday.

At dusk, the party moved outside. John helped Charles build a bonfire far enough away from the house so that Abigail didn't find fault in its distance. They gathered a couple of chairs and a log to sit comfortably close.

After a few minutes, Javier went to his horse and came back with a guitar. He started playing something upbeat and cheerful.

Lenny pulled Karen up from her chair and got her dancing. Charlotte laughed and twirled Jack, who was excited to be staying up with the grown-ups for this special occasion.

Sadie tapped her foot to the music while Mary-Beth teased her to try to get her to join in. Tilly clapped along while Uncle and Arthur began singing bawdily. Charles broke the air with one of his rare laughs.

John wrapped an arm around Abigail, and wondered at the friends he had. By tomorrow, most of them would be off again with their own lives. But right now, tonight they could enjoy each other's company as they once had when they'd run together

Abigail, his wife now, tilted her head his way. "It truly feels like home now, doesn't it, John?"

He dropped a kiss on her temple. "It sure does, Mrs. Marston."

John looked around at his friends, his family, and realized how truly lucky he was.


A/N: Hello, readers! I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone who has read and commented. You really inspired me to keep going. I never thought I'd get so much interest so I appreciate the comments, favorites, and follows. (branphillips001, your comments from Ch1-22 made me laugh)

I do have a few ideas for some future one shots, but I'm in the process of moving right now so it may be awhile until I can start something new.

Thanks again and I hope this journey was as fun for you all as it was for me!