The next morning, Arthur woke to see Grace having a coffee and a quiet chat with Abigail and Sadie. He sat up on his cot, coughing slightly as he did so and noticed a mug with steam coming out of it on the table. He picked it up and took a sip, realising it was the same tea Grace had made at her cabin. As he drank it, Mary-Beth joined him.

"Hi, Arthur, you feeling okay?" she asked.

"As okay as I'm gonna be."

"So, Dutch told me to tell you to meet him and Micah in Annesburg." She seemed nervous.

"Sure," Arthur wondered what they were doing there. "You okay?"

"Yeah, it's just... I don't like it here."

"Well, hopefully it won't be for too long."

Mary-Beth leaned in closer to him and lowered her voice. "Do you really think Grace can help get us out?"

"I think so."

She smiled slightly and walked away. Arthur finished the tea and joined Grace, Abigail, and Sadie where Grace was talking a little about her time in New York.

"It's a shame we didn't get to enjoy more of Saint Denis," Abigail sighed, "Seemed like a nice city."

"Hopefully you'll be able to spend time in another city when you're away from all this," said Grace.

"You ain't staying?" Sadie frowned slightly.

"I don't know yet."

"We'll figure it out when we get to that point," Arthur said.

"And I need to head down to Saint Denis so I can make arrangements for the money," Grace finished up her cup of coffee and headed to the horses.

"I'll ride out with you," Arthur followed, "I gotta head to Annesburg."

"Why?"

Arthur shrugged. "I don't know, but Dutch wants me to meet him there, apparently."

"Hm." Grace and Arthur tacked up their horses and rode out in silence. They reached the main road and she stopped. "You heading to Annesburg from here?"

"Yeah," he had looked at a map of the area and they would need to part ways here if he was to meet Dutch sooner than later.

"Okay, just... be careful," she moved Tuula closer then leaned over to kiss him. "I'll see you soon."

He watched her ride away until she disappeared around the corner before turning his horse to Annesburg. How long would it take her to get the money? Would it arrive in time before things got even worse?

When he arrived in the small mining town, he saw Dutch and Micah's horses hitched near the train station but there was no sign of their owners. Arthur hitched Smokey near them and looked for Dutch. He was only told to meet them in Annesburg, but not where in Annesburg. He looked through the train station and along the main street before heading towards the houses.

As he was wondering where Dutch and Micah were, a door suddenly opened and he was forced against the adjacent wall.

"Was you followed?" Micah demanded, holding Arthur's arms down, "Was you followed?"

"No!" Arthur shoved him away, trying to suppress an incoming cough.

"Okay," Micah smirked.

"What is your problem?"

"What is your problem?"

"Micah reckons there's a rat," Dutch said as he joined them.

"Oh, does he?" Arthur narrowed his eyes at Micah.

"We's only back a minute, Pinkertons show up, kinda suspicious, ain't it?" Micah said.

"Well we been on the run since you two fools went crazy in Blackwater," Arthur pointed at them, "We barely escaped with our lives in Saint Denis and now we got a rat?"

"Molly clearly talked," Dutch said angrily, "But who else?"

"Oh, I think we all know who," Micah stared at Arthur as he stood next to Dutch.

"Me? And why the hell would I do that?" Arthur asked.

"Not you," Micah glared.

"Oh, so just because Grace managed to survive being shot and she's now offering to get us the money we need, she's the rat?"

"Well why didn't she offer it before?" Dutch demanded.

"I don't know!" Arthur argued, which wasn't entirely a lie. He didn't know entirely why she didn't offer all that money to the gang before, only that she offered it to him. "But we been getting too sloppy, we don't need a rat."

"And where is the delightful Miss Bellerose now?" Micah looked around, feigning surprise that Grace wasn't standing there, "Probably running off back to the Pinkertons, you says she was talking to them."

"She was misleading them, you moron! I heard her back when we was at Horseshoe after Milton and Ross found me by the river. She told them we were further northeast then we actually was, and she kept trying to mislead them until we hit the bank in Saint Denis."

"Well I think we should cut the weak loose, get our money and start over," Micah said to Dutch.

"That ain't happening," Dutch said after a moment.

"Well something's gotta happen, and fast," Arthur sighed.

"That's why we're here," Dutch turned, "We're going to have a little talk with a certain Leviticus Cornwall."

"This better not be no stupid revenge mission, Dutch, it ain't worth it."

"It's just a simple social call," Dutch chuckled slightly as he led the way to the dock to wait Cornwall's scheduled arrival by boat.


Dutch in his infinite wisdom decided to shoot Leviticus Cornwall. Now, I'm not saying Cornwall did not need shooting, but I don't think it was quite our place to act as his judge and executioner. Micah and Dutch seem to be planning something. Seems like what they both want most of all is all of us dead.


Arthur watched Dutch and Micah ride away on the horses they stole to escape the shootout in Annesburg, shooed his own stolen horse away, and sat down on a boulder by the small river. He should've known things weren't going to go smoothly, and now things were just going to get worse. He heard the sound of some horses on the road and he instinctively reached for his gun when he saw Grace trot into view leading his own horse.

"So. How'd it go?" she asked.

"Like you don't already know," he shook his head and pat Smokey, "Why ain't you gone to Saint Denis?"

"I was, then I figured I'd see what kind of destruction you, Dutch, and Micah were going to leave behind in Annesburg," she said with a small smile as he took his horse's reins from her.

"It weren't my fault!"

"I know it isn't," she paused and waited for him to mount his horse, "Do you have anything you need to do now?"

"I'll have to meet Micah near Van Horn to steal some dynamite, apparently, but I don't know when yet."

"Maybe you won't need to. Will you come with me to Saint Denis?"

"Of course."

Grace smiled at him and they headed south along the road. They rode in silence for a short bit before Arthur spoke up.

"You don't think the law knows where we are, do you?"

"I shouldn't think so," she replied, "But they might soon if you all don't leave, especially after what happened in Annesburg."

"Yeah," Arthur sighed, "You think the Saint Denis bank will have your money? We took a lot when we robbed it."

"No, I'll need to arrange for a transfer which will take some time, but the sooner it's done, the better."

They kept riding as the sun began to set. They ended up stopping at an old, abandoned Civil War fort to set up camp for the night. Arthur shot a rabbit to cook while Grace prepared the fire. He skinned and cut up the rabbit then watched as she seasoned and cooked it. As she did, she kept looking behind at the open wall.

"You hear something?" he asked, moving his hand to his pistol.

"Kind of," she said, "It's like when I'm somewhere something awful happened, I can sense it. Almost like it's happening again all around me."

"Oh," he looked around but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary himself, "Is it something to do with why you can't stay dead?"

"Maybe, it only started happening after I had died and came back the first time. Sometimes it's not so bad, but it tends to be more intense when I'm recovering."

"So you actually see things?" he looked around again.

"No, not really. Sometimes I think I do, but then I realise I don't. It's kind of hard to explain."

"You think something terrible happened here?"

"If I remember correctly, I think this is where the Confederates massacred the Union soldiers holed up here," she looked around again.

"Which side were you?"

"The North, but I treated both Union and Confederate soldiers," she said.

"How did you, um," he stopped, unsure of how to ask.

"How did I die during the war?" Arthur nodded. "I joined a wagon train bringing supplies to a Union encampment and we were ambushed. I was tending to one of the wounded and I ended up getting shot. I suppose they had planned on burying the bodies later because when I came back , they had us all lined up in the nearby field. There was no one else around, I don't think, so I just left, returned to where we started so I could recover, then I was sent back north for the rest of the war."

"And they didn't notice they was missing a body?" Arthur couldn't help but smirk a little.

"Heh, if they did, I didn't find out about it." Grace finished cooking the rabbit meat and they ate as the sky darkened above them. After a short time, he suddenly realised something.

"So that was really you in that photograph album," he said.

"What photograph?" she asked, confused.

"The lady in Saint Denis, she was taking donations for the veterans' home and had the photograph album from the war."

"Oh, right. Yes, that was me," she then laughed a little, "You know, I had to lie about my age to be a nurse."

"Why?"

"They didn't want younger, attractive women because they were less likely to handle the horrific injuries, but also more likely to be seduced by the men. Obviously I couldn't tell them my real age so when asked, I said I was 32. They still considered me too young but made an exception when I explained I already had war experience."

"What other war have you been in?"

"I told them I had been a nurse for the French army during the Crimean War, which was true, but I omitted telling them I started as a nurse in the 1812 war for the Americans. I also offered my war medicine service during the Rebellions of Canada back in the 1830s, I think it was."

"Jesus." He was about to say something further, but began to cough. Grace immediately handed him the flask of tea, which had already cooled since that morning but it still soothed his throat a bit. His chest hurt after the coughing fit but he didn't want to let on.

"You need to rest more," she said quietly.

"It'll be fine."

"Will it?" she moved closer and put her arm around his waist.

"I hope so," he said putting his arm around her.

They left early the next morning, and Arthur felt nervous as they rode closer to Saint Denis. As if she could sense it, Grace reassured him that they most likely won't recognise him.

"I've seen one of your wanted posters, it looks nothing like you," she smirked.

Nevertheless, he opted to wait around the corner of the bank with their horses while Grace went in to arrange for the money. He hoped it wouldn't take too long for the money to get in so they could all escape, but would it actually work? Things were already tense within the camp, and with Dutch and Micah now conspiring in secret... But maybe they could get people out before they all got killed.

"Alright, so it'll take at least a week or two," Grace rejoined him, "Think you can hold off on causing more trouble before then?"

"Probably not," he scoffed slightly, "I mean, I probably could, but I don't think it'd be too good to not go along with what Dutch wants me to do."

"I know," she nodded before mounting up, "I won't tell you to defy Dutch since that'll just make things worse for not only yourself but also everyone else. Just try not to rob any incoming banking coaches or trains."

Arthur didn't say anything as he mounted his horse and followed her down the road, not paying much attention to where they were going. She then waved at someone and headed towards the cathedral. She dismounted to greet Sister Calderón who was standing by a donation box.

"Miss Bellerose, how nice to see you again," Sister Calderón said, "And you too, Mr. Morgan!"

"Hello, Sister," Arthur dismounted and stood next to Grace, suppressing a cough.

"How are you?"

"Never better," he coughed slightly.

"You sure?" Sister Calderón sat on a nearby bench and gestured for Arthur to sit next to her.

"Oh, I'm quite sure," Arthur sat down as Grace remained standing with the horses.

"You know, a long time ago, I was like you," said Sister Calderón.

"Hah, I very much doubt that."

"I did terrible things, awful things," she then turned to Grace, "You certainly remember, I mean, you remember me telling you, Miss Bellerose?"

"It's okay, he knows now," Grace smiled at her. Arthur looked at her curiously.

"Wait, you knew her before?" Arthur asked Grace.

"She sure did," Sister Calderón smiled.

"She robbed me!" Grace pointed at Sister Calderón who looked amused. Arthur looked back at the nun incredulously.

"It's true," Sister Calderón nodded with a small laugh, "Like I said, I did terrible things because I did not believe goodness existed. Then I realised it did exist and ever since, doing terrible things became not impossible but ridiculous."

"I'm sorry, you robbed her?" Arthur couldn't quite comprehend what he was hearing, "And I thought I was the only outlaw here."

"She'd've given you a run for your money back then," Grace then stepped closer and lowered her voice slightly, "I wouldn't put it past her to still do it now."

"Oh, I've long since given that up," Sister Calderón chuckled, "I much prefer to repay the kindness to others, and hope they do the same."

"Heh, well, I think the most I'm hoping for is a dignified exit," Arthur sighed.

"I'll pray for you," Sister Calderón patted his knee.

"I'm not a religious man, Sister," said Arthur, "Far from it."

"Religion is just a word," she smiled. "Hearts are rarely pure," she glanced over at Grace so quickly he nearly missed it, "but equally they are rarely impure either."

"That's an interesting way of putting it," said Arthur.

"To me, God is people, and people are God," she stood and moved back to stand next to the donation box, "so we must all do what we can." She turned back to Arthur who rose up from the bench, "Don't worry so much about your heart. The actions will lead and the heart follows. I'll still think of you in very nasty terms, as you wish."

Grace smirked slightly, then silently handed Sister Calderón a small roll of bills.

"Thank you, Miss Bellerose," Sister Calderón tucked the money away under her tunic, "You know, the children have been asking about those sweet rolls."

"I'm afraid I may be busy for a little bit, but I have given Mrs. McKinley the recipe,"

Arthur went over to his horse and took out a few tins of food from his saddlebag. "I have some food, it ain't much, but-" he shrugged slightly as he placed the tins in the wooden box.

"Oh, you are wonderful, Mr. Morgan," Sister Calderón was delighted, "Consider your good deed done for the day. I won't subject you to any more benevolence."

He nodded at her and turned to Grace who had already mounted back up on her horse. He did the same as Grace bid Sister Calderón goodbye and they rode off back down the street.

"You didn't talk to her much," Arthur said.

"No, but it's not like I haven't already spent a lot of time with Sister," she shrugged.

"I still can't believe she robbed you."

"Not just me, but plenty of others too," Grace laughed, "I think I might have been one of the last she robbed."

"'One of the last'?"

"I doubt she changed immediately. I brought her to a mission where she could have somewhere to sleep and food to eat. I didn't see her again for at least another year and that's when I discovered she was becoming a nun."

"Huh."

"Let's see if there's any mail," she said, turning down the street towards the train station.

They rode to the station where Grace picked up her mail - a letter and a couple of magazines - and Arthur was surprised to find he had a few letters as well. They sat outside the station on a bench and he read the letters as Grace thumbed through one of her magazines.

The first letter was from Francis Sinclair, the strange man who had asked for rock carvings. Francis thanked him for finding the carvings and was inviting him to his cabin. Arthur held the letter to Grace.

"Did you find the other carvings?"

"What carvings?"

"The rock carvings for that Francis Sinclair feller, up near Strawberry."

"Oh! Yes, I did. Actually, I did a while ago. There was one way up at the peak of Mount Hagen I had found before I even met you. Didn't realise it until I was poking through one of my sketchbooks." She read the letter. "I am curious of what he's doing with them."

"Maybe we could head up soon," he took the letter back, "Seems to be in a hurry." He opened another letter, this one from Theodore Levin, the man who had asked Arthur to get stories from old gunslingers. "This one is from the feller with Jim 'Boy' Calloway. Looks like they're here in Saint Denis, staying on one of the riverboats."

"Heh, will I need to wear a swimsuit under my dress?" Grace smirked.

"I hope not," Arthur smiled slightly as he opened the last letter. He frowned to himself as he read it.

"Bad news?" Grace asked.

"It's from Penelope Braithwaite, asking for my help." He read the letter out loud to her.

Dear Sir,

You were once very kind to Beau and myself and it pains me to ask you to show us further kindness, but I have nowhere else to turn and nobody else upon whom I can impose. I will of course, pay you handsomely for your troubles. My family have turned quite mad and are threatening to send me away, to stop my work, which they say is disgracing them.

As if their history of absolute moral depravity, utter debauchery and perpetual drunkenness did not disgrace them enough! I must escape, yet, I am kept prisoner here. Can you help? Most days I can be found at the cabins on the Plantation. The main house and all it stood for are thankfully no more.

Yours faithfully,

Penelope Braithwaite

"Goodness, I forgot all about her when you all attacked the manor house," Grace said, "I'm glad she's alright, but obviously she needs to get out of there."

"I agree," he stood, storing the letters in his satchel, "We should head over there now, and hope we killed enough of their guards so it'll be easier."

Grace remained sitting for a moment, deep in thought, before slowly standing. "It might be easier if I go in, maybe pretending to be a friend."

"What if they think you're part of the women's suffrage, or whatever it is?"

"I'll say how ridiculous the movement is, then," Grace said, "Which means I'll have to dress the part since this certainly won't do." She gestured to her riding pants and blouse. "So let's go to the dress shop since I don't have anything appropriate on me." She packed away her magazines in her saddlebags and mounted up. "Should we go to the Braithwaite place tonight, or wait until tomorrow morning?"

Arthur thought for a moment. It would probably be easier to get Penelope out when it's dark, but he couldn't deny that he was feeling very tired. He told Grace he'd rather go in the morning to which she agreed. He accompanied her to the dress shop and while she was picking out something to wear, he brought the horses to the stable so they'd be settled for the night. Or, in Tuula's case, mostly settled. One of the stablehands winced as Arthur brought Tuula in, but the big appaloosa seemed to be calmer.

Grace was waiting for him when he returned and they checked into a nearby hotel, where they basked in each other's company, not realising it would be one of the last quiet times they would have alone together.