It was evening by the time they returned to Beaver Hollow, Grace was still quiet but put on a smile as Jack ran up to her.
"Can you come play with me?" he asked eagerly.
"Of course, I just need to take care of Tuula first," she said.
"I'll look after the horses," Arthur said, then lowered his voice so only Grace could hear, "I think of everyone here, Jack needs the most cheering up."
She nodded, kissed Arthur on the cheek, then took Jack's hand as he led her to the tents. Arthur untacked and fed their horses before Bill approached him. `
"Hey, Arthur, Micah says to meet him at this old house outside of Van Horn."
"When?"
"Tomorrow morning, by nine."
"You actually waking up that early?"
"'Course I am," Bill retorted, "I ain't some lazy layabout like some of them!"
"Never said you were."
"I work just as hard as anybody!"
"Yeah, alright, Bill," Arthur sighed and watched Bill walk away muttering to himself.
Grace was sitting under a tree with Jack playing some sort of game with their hands. Arthur sat nearby, lit up a cigarette and watched. They made a fist with one hand, hit it against their other palm three times before Grace held out two of her fingers while Jack held his hand flat.
"Aw, you won again," Jack said.
"It's just luck," Grace said, "Let's try again. Ready?"
Jack nodded and they made fists again, counted to three, this time Grace stayed with the fist and Jack held his hand flat again. He grinned brightly as he covered her fist with his hand.
"I won! Uncle Arthur, I won!" Jack cried out.
"You sure did," Arthur said, suppressing a cough.
"Want to play too?" Jack asked him.
"Oh, I don't know. "
"Go on, Jack's a good teacher," Grace said.
Arthur flicked the cigarette butt away and joined them under the tree.
"This is called, uh, what was it again?" Jack looked over at Grace.
"Janken."
"Yeah, jan-ken. It's a game from Japan."
"So you've even been there too?" Arthur asked her.
"No, I learned the game from some Japanese children in California. They couldn't speak English nor could I speak Japanese, but I figured it out."
"Yeah, so you have to make a shape with your hand, like this," Jack made a fist. "This is a rock, and rock beats scissors," he then stuck two fingers out in a vee shape. "And scissors beats paper," then he flattened his hand, "and paper beats rock."
Arthur copied Jack by making each of the shapes before Jack challenged him to a game while Grace looked on. The first round was won by Arthur who played paper to Jack's rock, but Jack won the next three rounds much to the young boy's delight.
"Well at least someone's happy around here," Abigail interrupted with a bowl of stew for Jack. "Here, time to eat." Jack followed his mother to their tent leaving Grace and Arthur alone.
"So what now?" Grace asked after a few moments.
"Well, tomorrow I gotta meet Bill and Micah outside of Van Horn to steal a shipment of dynamite."
Grace didn't say anything but looked away and nodded. He moved closer to her and she leaned into him.
"I could tell them I won't," he said quietly, "I could say we got something else."
"No, that wouldn't be a good idea," she said after a moment, "If you said no, that won't be good for anyone. Dutch might think you're going behind his back, and I'd rather not the others be punished for it."
"Have any suggestions?"
"For what?"
"Robbing a wagon of dynamite from the army. "
Grace smirked slightly. "Yes, because I'm such an expert on stealing dynamite. Why does Dutch need the dynamite anyway?"
Arthur shrugged. "I ain't sure, but whatever it is, it won't be good."
She rested her head on his shoulder as he put his arm around her. They listened to the unusual quietness of the camp. Even the forest was quiet apart from the wind lazily blowing through the trees. After a short bit, she got up to get some stew for them.
"Mr. Morgan, how are you feeling?"
Arthur looked up to see Herr Strauss approaching and stood up. "About the same as I look."
"Ah, well, are you available for some work?"
Arthur sighed. "Debtors?"
"Yes."
"I guess," he looked to see Grace was in conversation with Pearson by the stew pot and turned back to Strauss. "Got something tomorrow morning but I can go after."
"Well be quick, the first is a deserter named J. John Weathers from Fort Wallace and they're looking for him out on the road near Three Sisters."
"And the other?"
"A miner in Annesburg called, heh, called Arthur, like you," Strauss joked, "Arthur Londonderry. Family man, desperate, you know the type."
"Sure," Arthur nodded. Of course this man was desperate, they all were and they'd need to be desperate to borrow money from Strauss.
Strauss handed him the paper with the names of the debtors just as Grace returned with two dishes of stew. "Be quick, Mr. Morgan, we need that money sooner than later." Strauss ignored Grace as he walked away.
"More people who owe money?" she asked, handing him one of the dishes.
He nodded. "I guess there's no shortage of these fools needing money."
"Hm." She sat down and began to eat her stew silently.
"What?"
"Nothing," she said quietly.
Arthur huffed in annoyance. "What do you mean 'nothing'?"
She didn't say anything as she slowly ate a few bites. "Don't you think it's futile, still lending out money?"
"Well that's more Strauss's thing."
"And if they can't pay it back? You're hardly in any condition to beat it out of them."
"They shouldn't be borrowing money if they can't pay it back."
"And you shouldn't be lending money you can't afford to lose."
"Ain't you got that money coming in from the bank?"
"Yes, but that doesn't mean you should be taking advantage of other poor bastards." Grace's face softened as she looked down, "I know it's not you doing it, but you still have a responsibility to everyone here."
"I suppose."
She silently ate a few spoonfuls of stew. "I can still just give you the money that's owed, save these people a visit from you."
"Well, how about we go see if they have the money," he said, "Maybe things will be different this time."
"Maybe. But you still have to meet Micah and Bill tomorrow morning."
"I'll go after."
"Don't get yourself killed," she looked over at him sadly, "Please."
Arthur looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear then leaned in towards her. "Will you stay nearby? Maybe you won't need to, but if things don't go to plan–"
She snorted slightly. "When have things ever gone to plan? But yes, I'll head out shortly after you leave and find somewhere nearby."
He nodded his thanks and they finished up their stew in silence. He knew she wasn't happy with the whole situation, though neither was he. The sooner she could get the money, the better.
But what then? He felt like the gang had divided to the point where it would never be the same if they all stayed together. He hated to consider the reality of the circumstances, but it would be for the best if they all went their own way. He and Grace would help some of them, of course. Others, like Micah, could shove off for all he cared. Until then, it was best to stay on everyone's good side.
Grace was already awake before he got up the following morning, brushing Smokey. Arthur looked around and saw that Micah and Bill had already left, but he still had a short bit before he had to meet them. He opted against having a cup of coffee with the ladies and instead took a drink of the now cold tea Grace had prepared the night before to help with his coughing.
He was nervous about trying to steal a wagon of dynamite. Normally he wouldn't be as much, always figuring if it was his time, so be it. But now that he knew his time was limited, he worried that it would end prematurely. He looked over to see Grace slip something into his saddlebag before she turned to her own horse.
"Mornin', Arthur," Pearson greeted him sadly as he passed.
"Everything will be okay, you know," Arthur said.
"No it won't," Pearson scoffed, "If the Pinkertons don't kill us, we're just going to kill each other."
"Nah, it won't come down to that."
"If you say so." Pearson sighed and headed to his wagon to start on the day's stew.
Arthur approached Grace near the horses and she greeted him warmly. "Smokey's all ready to go," she then lowered her voice, "And so am I. Is there anywhere in particular you want me to wait?"
"No, but I'm meeting Bill and Micah at that boarded up house with the strange creature experiment."
"Okay," she nodded. "If you need them, I put a couple of smoke bombs in your saddlebag."
"Thanks." He paused then kissed her before mounting up. "I'll see you later." He rode out before he could second guess himself. He couldn't risk not being able to focus on the task at hand, though he did wonder where Grace would be waiting.
He found Bill and Micah sitting on the weathered porch of the boarded up house.
"Finally, old black lung Morgan," Micah greeted him, "Was you followed?"
"Excuse me?"
"Was. You. Followed?" Micah demanded.
"Do you know who you're talking to?" Arthur said angrily.
"I ain't sure, but all I know is there's law whenever you're around. Or is that what's-her-name?"
"There's been nothing but trouble since you started riding with us," Arthur snapped, "Stirring things up all the time, getting in Dutch's ear. Seems wherever you is, there's Pinkertons and vice versa, so you better watch your goddamn mouth, boy or–" he suddenly started coughing hard.
"Watch yourself there, cowboy," Micah smirked.
"Shut it, Micah," Bill interrupted.
"He started it!" Micah paced as Arthur tried to suppress his coughing. "Dutch says we is to go on with the plans to create a diversion. Gotta get some explosions to blow up the bridge, keep the army out of here a few days."
"Sounds like a bad idea," Arthur said, his throat feeling like it was on fire.
"Don't matter much what you think," said Micah, "Gotta confuse them one last time, then Dutch and I will head to Blackwater, collect the money, and help everyone leave. He's got a boat lined up."
Arthur shook his head, "Like that last boat? Blackwater's a fool's errand, everyone knows it."
"It's Dutch's choice, Arthur. You're just a senior gun, same as the rest of us, only you ain't well."
"I'm fine!"
"Then you'll do Dutch's bidding, which is robbing a stage coming from Annesburg loaded with explosives."
"Let's go then."
"Oh, not me," Micah sat back down on the porch, "You two. I got my own planning to do."
Bill and Arthur mounted their horses and rode towards Van Horn. Arthur tried to keep an eye out for Grace and Tuula without looking too obvious.
"Micah says we ought to jump the wagon as soon as it comes through Van Horn," Bill said.
"So you're taking orders from him now?"
"I'm taking orders from Dutch, same as always."
"The pair of them are becoming unhinged."
"I'm starting to think you've gone soft, Morgan," Bill said, "Micah thinks so too, 'specially after you brought Grace to camp."
"I thought you liked her."
"I guess, but she ain't one of us." Bill stopped his horse just as they reached Van Horn. "Okay, so here's the plan. The wagon'll be coming from that way, so you go play dead and I'll take care of them." He dismounted and removed a rifle from his horse.
"No, I'm the better shot," Arthur dismounted, "And you're the better actor. You play dead and I'll cover you."
"I got that," Bill agreed, "I think that's them coming down the road."
Arthur hurried to a nearby derelict building and carefully climbed the rotten stairs to the second floor window. He watched as Bill took cover behind a building on the main road. A moment later the wagon appeared, flanked by guards on horseback. Bill staggered out, pretending to be drunk and fell on the road, forcing the wagon and guards to stop.
"Hey, mister, get out of the road!" one of the guards called out to Bill, but he didn't move.
"Move him out of the way, we got a schedule to keep," the driver said. The guard dismounted and Arthur readied his rifle.
"Move, you idiot!" the guard bent over Bill but Bill quickly shot him. Arthur took out the rest of the guards and the driver just as quickly, glad that he didn't have a sudden coughing fit.
He left the old building as Bill drove the wagon up. "Nice drunk playing," Arthur said as he climbed onto the wagon.
"Nice shooting, now let's get the hell out of here without blowing ourselves up."
They didn't get far out of Van Horn before more guards showed up. Bill yelled at Arthur to shoot them before they shot the dynamite. Arthur shot a few, trying to stay steady as they drove along the bumpy road. As soon as he dispatched the first few, more showed up around the next bend.
"How many of these bastards are there?" Bill yelled.
"Too many!" Arthur yelled back as he shot more. A bullet hit dangerously close to the crate of dynamite.
"More on our right!"
"Goddammit!" Arthur shot them dead, just as more rode up behind them.
"Take care of them or we'll lead them right back to camp!"
"Don't drive straight to the camp!"
Arthur fired at the guards now following them, but then they suddenly disappeared into a cloud of white smoke. He looked to see Grace and Tuula zigzagging through the trees as she readied another arrow. He then remembered the smoke bombs she had left him, but they were in his saddlebag. He swore as he shot at more guards.
Another cloud of white smoke surrounded another group of guards as Bill turned down another road to try to get them off their trail. Arthur watched for any more guards, but there didn't seem to be any more. But there was no sign of Grace either.
"I think that's the last of them," Bill said as he slowed the wagon down, "What was that smoke?"
"Grace makes smoke arrows," Arthur explained, "Guess she happened to be in the right place at the right time."
"No kidding?" Bill said, impressed. "But you sure she ain't working with them Pinkertons?"
"If she was, they'd have us all dead by now."
"I guess. Look, there's Micah up ahead."
Micah was waiting near the road along with John. "You got it?" Micah asked as they slowed the wagon.
"Yeah, we got it," Arthur said as he jumped off the wagon.
"Good," Micah turned to John, "Go drive this over to Bacchus Bridge and get it hidden near there."
"Really does think he's in charge," John said under his breath as he passed Arthur to the wagon.
Bill waved as he headed up the road to camp as Micah took Arthur aside.
"Look, I know we ain't always seen eye to eye, but I need better from you, Arthur."
Arthur scoffed. "Whatever you say."
"I ain't the bad guy you think I am," Micah mounted up on his horse, "Oh, and the bridge is probably a two-man job so you should go help Marston."
"Why don't you?"
"Dutch and I got planning to do, trust me," Micah kicked his horse into a gallop up the road.
"Trust you, like hell," Arthur scowled under his breath. He looked down the road to see it empty. At least there were no guards, but there was no sign of Grace either. He headed down the road to see if he could find her. As he rounded the first bend, she trotted up, leading his and Bill's horses.
"So how did it go?" she asked.
"Like you don't already know," he took the reins of Bill's horse from her and shooed him towards camp before mounting up on his own horse. "Thank you."
"No problem. Do you need some time to rest?"
"No, we better get these debts done," he took out his map, "I suppose we should go to this one first, in Annesburg. Feller works in the mine."
"Okay, let's go then."
Arthur kept his head down as they rode into Annesburg, hoping he wouldn't be recognized after the incident with Cornwall. There was a commotion as they reached the main entrance of the mine, like the miners were ganging up on someone. They dismounted and noticed a boy was being pushed around by the much larger men. Before Arthur could say anything, Grace ran in and shoved one of the men out of the way.
"Leave him alone!" she shouted.
"Oh, is this another whore just like your mom, little boy?"
Grace slapped him across the face. "Where do you get off, pushing him around?"
The miner made a move towards her, but Arthur rushed in and pulled him away.
"And who the hell are you?" the miner demanded.
"Leave the boy alone," Arthur pushed him.
"What, you his daddy?"
"My daddy died, and this man, he killed him," the boy said angrily. Arthur then recognised him as Thomas Downes's son. Damn it. Grace looked between the Downes boy and Arthur.
"Why you kill his daddy?" the miner asked, "You after his momma?"
"Stop bullying the boy," Arthur said.
"Or what?" the miner stalked up to him.
"Or I'll kill you too," Arthur narrowed his eyes.
"You couldn't kill nobody. Look at you all ragged, and sick, and weak. Why don't you clear off, you and the whore here."
Arthur punched him hard in the face, knocking him off balance. The miner came back and Arthur raised his arms to block him, but the miner hit him in the side. He doubled over, but dodged the next punch before socking the miner in the stomach, followed by an uppercut to the chin. The miner fell on his back, his helmet cracking against the minetracks.
"Who's next?" Arthur charged the other miners angrily, but they backed away. "Shame on you, he's just a goddamn boy!" He pointed over at the Downes boy who was being guarded by Grace. The miners mumbled as they turned back into the mine.
"Are you okay?" Grace asked Arthur.
"Yeah," he turned to the Downes boy, "What's your name, son?"
"Archie, and don't call me 'son'." He glared at Arthur.
"Sorry, let's get you outta here," Arthur started for his horse, "Wait, just one other thing, I need to talk to the foreman."
"You just beat him up," said Archie, pointing to the miner still sitting on the ground, holding his head, "And now they're going to kill me. I've got no job now."
"I've got money, just wait a minute," Arthur approached the foreman who scooted back a little. "Just one more thing, I need to talk to Arthur Londonderry. He around?"
"Ain't no good, he's already dead," the foreman said, "You might get something off his widow, lives across from Butcher's Creek. I'd hurry, you ain't gonna be the only one a-knocking."
Before Arthur could say anything, Grace knelt down beside the foreman. She took his head in her hands and looked him over.
"Get off me!" the foreman shoved her away.
"If you're smart, you'll take a few days off."
"I ain't listening to no whore."
"Lucky for you I'm not. Enjoy your concussion." She joined Arthur and Archie near the horses.
"Here," Arthur handed Archie a wad of bills he had saved, "Now you and your momma get someplace nice."
"Why are you doing this?" Archie stared at the money.
"Because," Arthur sighed, "Just because. Now go, I don't wanna see you here again." Archie nodded and ran down the road.
"So now what?" Grace asked him.
"Well, now we pay Mrs. Londonderry a visit."
"Okay." She mounted her horse and waited for Arthur to follow suit.
"You ain't got a problem with it?"
"Oh, I do, but it must be done, right?"
"I suppose," Arthur said. "Let's just go see what's going on."
They rode to a small, dilapidated cabin where a woman was sitting outside, darning a sock.
"Can I help you?" she asked Arthur as he dismounted. Grace remained on her horse.
"I'm here about your husband," Arthur said.
"Arthur's dead," Mrs. Londonderry stood up. The door opened and a small boy ran out. She kept him behind her.
"I know, it's just we lent him a lot of money, and-"
"So it was you," she said angrily, "You son of a bitch." She gently pushed her son back to the door. "So what you want now? My boys shoes? The food out our bellies? You want me to lie down for you?"
"No! No, I-"
"Arthur gave everything to pay your bills. Everything! And now there's some fellers coming to take the house. There ain't nothing left!"
"I know, and I'm sorry. I just wanted to let you know that the debt's cancelled. And here," Arthur reached into his satchel and took out some more money. "Take this. I know it won't bring your husband back, but you need it more than I do."
Mrs. Londonderry teared up as she took the money. "Thank you," she said quietly. "Just wish you'd done it before he worked hisself into the grave." She smiled slightly at Arthur then led her son into the house.
Arthur turned back to his horse, mounted up, then turned to Grace. She nodded at him and they headed down the road.
"So I have to ask, where did you get that money?" she asked after a short bit.
"Been saving it," he said quietly, "I know you got money, but I wanted to be able to contribute for when we-" he stopped. It felt like such a long time ago when he had made his decision to leave with her.
"I see."
"Do you ever worry about running out of money yourself?"
"No. I am capable of earning money honestly, and I am also capable of living off the land."
"Heh, I suppose you are."
"Isn't there another debtor to visit?"
"Yeah, out by, uh, Three Sisters. Army deserter, apparently."
"Well, let's go then and hope we get to him before the army does."
They rode as quick as they could to the rocky formations close to Grace's cabin and began to search. They came across a wagon just off the road, the horses hitched nearby, and a man under the wagon who seemed to be fixing something.
Arthur dismounted and lightly kicked the man in the legs. "J. John Weathers?"
"They call me Snow Goose now," he crawled out from under the wagon.
"Well, whatever they call you, you borrowed money off of Leopold Strauss."
"This ain't the best time, sir," Weathers said.
"Ain't the best time for anyone," Arthur looked over the wagon then glanced over at Grace. She frowned slightly, then dismounted to inspect something behind some rocks nearby.
"Mr. Strauss knew it was a long term proposition."
"The bill is due."
"Look, I got supplies here to last through the winter, but-" he paused, "I beg you, sir, please help me, otherwise there won't be anyone to pay you."
"I ain't here to help," Arthur said.
"There's men after me, I ain't a deserter, just an objector," Weathers pleaded, "It ain't right. If there was any other way, I-"
"Up here, it's him!" A couple of soldiers rode around the corner.
"It's too late," Weathers hid behind the wagon and took out his pistol.
"Shit, well, I guess I ain't got no choice," Arthur took cover behind the wagon as well and unholstered his pistol.
The soldiers began to shoot at the wagon as Arthur and Weathers shot back. One of the bullets hit a lantern on the wagon, igniting the fuel.
"No, the wagon!" Weathers cried.
Two more soldiers rode around the corner, one of them hit in the shoulder by an arrow. Arthur finished him off, as another arrow blew through the eye of the other soldier, killing him. When he was sure there were no more, he turned back to the now burning wagon. Weathers ran around it, trying to find something he could save as Grace stood near the rocks with her bow.
"It's alright, my darling, you can come out," he called out. From behind the rocks near Grace, an Indian woman peeked out and ran to weathers.
"Aw, crap," Arthur said to himself as he noticed she was heavily pregnant. "I probably shoulda helped you fix the damn wagon," he said to Weathers.
"Look, you can take this silver locket for the debt," Weathers reached into his pocket, "It won't cover all of it, but it's something."
Arthur waved it off. "Damn the debt, just... get her somewhere safe."
"Thank you," Weathers said gratefully as he led his wife to one of the horses and helped her on.
"And here," he gave him some money out of his satchel, "So you can get more supplies."
"I don't know what to say," Weathers said as he mounted up behind his wife. "You know, there ain't enough kindness in this world, that's for sure. Thank you. Be well."
Arthur watched them ride off as the events of everything ran through his head. This man and his pregnant wife, the widow and her young son, and Archie Downes having to work in the mines while his mother is forced to sell herself. Every one of them left with nothing, and all because of the debt. Rage grew inside him and he whistled for his horse.
"We can stay at my cabin for the night," Grace said as she mounted Tuula.
"No, I need to go back to camp," he said sternly, mounting up.
"Are you sure? I-"
"I'm sure," he interrupted and kicked Smokey into a gallop. Grace followed in confusion. Dusk had fallen by the time they reached Beaver Hollow and the horses were tired. Arthur dismounted and walked quickly to Strauss who was sitting near his wagon.
"Ah, how did you get on, Mr. Morgan?" Strauss asked.
"Just dandy, just-" Arthur's fists clenched and unclenched. "Get up."
"What?"
"Get up!" Arthur grabbed him by the shoulder and forced him to his wagon.
"What are you doing, Arthur?" Grace asked, but Arthur pushed past her.
"Something I should have done a long time ago."
"What's wrong?" Strauss demanded.
"Oh, nothing's wrong, nothing at all," he picked up a bag and started throwing Strauss's belongings in it.
"I don't understand," Strauss said, confused.
"I ain't gonna kill you, if you're wondering, though I probably should." He shoved the bag into Strauss's arms, "That should do." He pushed Strauss to the exit as the gang watched.
"But it's dark out," Strauss protested.
"Ain't my problem," Arthur gave him a final shove.
"You know, they-they say the sick delude themselves," Strauss said, "I was your friend."
"You and me, we ain't decent, but those folk, they was." Arthur reached into his satchel, took out the rest of his money and threw it at Strauss. "Now take that, and get lost! I don't ever want to see you again!"
Strauss was about to say something, but instead bent down to pick up the money. He looked down at it, then back at Arthur who continued to glare at him. He turned and made his way out of camp.
Arthur turned to see Grace staring at him. "What?"
"Nothing," she said before she turned away and sat on a log at the campfire. The rest of the gang slowly returned to their business, shocked over what just happened.
Arthur sat on his cot, took out a cigarette but began to cough. He threw the cigarette angrily to the ground.
He didn't know how long he sat there until Grace sat next to him, offering him a bowl of stew. They ate in silence before turning in for the night. It had been a very long day.
