I.
Charles opened the door to his home and entered it. Immediately, his body warmed up as he got out of the cold air. He shut the door behind him as he made his way into the living room, his heart intent on starting a fire to warm the house up even more.
"Hello?" he called as he walked into the living room, his eyes glued to the fireplace. "Anyone here yet?"
When he got no response, Charles smiled to himself. Perhaps Saleema and the boys had stopped off somewhere on the way home. She mentioned visiting the grocery store to grab some vegetables for dinner that evening. Charles' stomach rumbled at the thought of food.
Charles bent down next to the fireplace and arranged the firewood before he lit a match. He threw the match into the fireplace and a fire sprang to life. Charles held his hands up near the flames to warm them before he made his way over to his recliner and sat down in it.
He turned to the pile of mail that was sitting on the end table next to his recliner. He flipped through the mail, vaguely seeing a letter to a C.S. and thinking nothing of it. Finally, Charles found the newspaper he was hoping to read before Saleema and the kids got home. While he loved his wife and two sons dearly, he also enjoyed his solitude when he read the newspaper when he got home from his job as a hunter for the local butcher.
Charles smirked as he imagined his life 12 years earlier and compared it to now. In some ways, not much had changed. Charles was still hunting game regularly and he taught his boys how to hunt and fish as well. They were certainly much better at it than gang members had been, except for perhaps Arthur.
Charles paused when he thought of his old friend Arthur Morgan. Arthur had been gone for many years by now and yet he still played a large role in Charles' life. Indeed, Charles thought of Arthur daily when he looked at his son, Artie. Artie was named after Arthur and shared some of the same gruffness as his namesake, though that usually only happened when he didn't get what he wanted. Artie's temper only seemed to flare if he thought Charles and Saleema were paying more attention to Charlie, their oldest son, who had much more of their father's spirit.
After a moment, Charles unfolded the newspaper and had to do a double take. Sure, he had been imagining Arthur and the others in the old gang, but seeing the name of the gang's leader in a newspaper headline? That was a whole other ballgame.
Charles shook his head to make sure he wasn't seeing things and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, the words on the newspaper hadn't changed, so he definitely wasn't seeing things. Sighing to himself, Charles started reading the story.
Van Der Linde executed in raid in West Elizabeth
Story by L.D. Vercetti
Dutch Van Der Linde, a notorious outlaw whose crime spree spanned decades, was killed in a raid in West Elizabeth, members of the Bureau of Investigation revealed.
Van Der Linde, who had a price on his head of nearly $10,000 at the time of his death, had started up a gang consisting of Natives and others disillusioned with the federal government and the rise of civilization, said BOI Chief Edgar Ross.
"Mr. Van Der Linde's reign of terror has come to an end," Ross said late last night after announcing Van Der Linde's death to the town of Blackwater. "The people of this area can sleep soundly knowing that Dutch is no longer around to terrorize the people."
Although it is not yet clear how Mr. Van Der Linde was killed, Ross did hint at a shoot-out between Van Der Linde and authorities.
"All you need to know is that shots were fired and that's all I'll say about it," Ross said.
Ross revealed there will be no autopsy released on Van Der Linde's body. This has raised concerns about the transparency of the BOI, something Ross has dismissed numerous times.
The death of Van Der Linde comes after the public deaths of two of Van Der Linde's closest associates, Bill Williamson and Javier Escuella. Williamson was killed during the recent revolution in Mexico while Escuella was captured and quickly executed for his crimes associated with Van Der Linde's gang.
The exploits of the Van Der Linde Gang date back to the 1870s. According to police reports at the time, the gang fashioned itself as consisting of "Robin Hood" type characters, who robbed from the rich to give to the poor. However, in the years leading up to the disbandment of the gang, there are rumors of a power struggle. Indeed, most of the gang's members have previously been reported as deceased or incarcerated.
Charles put down the paper and sighed to himself. Ever since he heard about Williamson and Escuella's deaths in the previous weeks, he had expected to read about Dutch's death, too. He wondered how it played out and if Dutch fought to the end. He knew firsthand how Dutch would never willingly submit to the authorities and he was sure Dutch had met a violent end.
Before he could think too much about Dutch and the old gang, the front door opened and Saleema came into the house carrying bags, followed closely by the boys.
"Hi, honey, we're home!" Saleema called in her sing-song voice.
Charles leapt up from his recliner and hurried over to his wife, grabbing the bags out of her hands.
"Charles Smith, do you always have to be such a gentleman? I am certainly capable of carrying in groceries, you know?"
"Yes, well, old habits die hard, I suppose," Charles replied as he carried the bag into the kitchen, where the boys had quickly sat down, looking eager for dinner.
"Hi dad!" Artie exclaimed. "Did you get a lot of animals hunted for the butcher?"
"I did son, yes," Charles said, grinning at his youngest's enthusiasm. "Looks like I may have even gotten enough meat for some meals around here!"
The two boys cheered and Charles laughed at their happiness. It was in moments like these where he remembered the choice he had made four years ago when he left the Marstons' ranch. He had been unsure of his choice at the time, but it had been clear for some time that he had made the right choice.
"I hope this means no stew for tonight!" Charlie observed.
Charles laughed, knowing his oldest son was moments away from getting a small reprimand for his mother.
"You keep up that talk and you'll go to bed on an empty stomach!" Saleema chastised.
Charlie looked downtrodden while Artie laughed. Saleema smiled at her oldest and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"Only joking, honey," she said in a soothing tone. "But I promise you'll get some of your dad's food soon."
The two boys cheered and Saleema grinned up at Charles as she rolled up her sleeves and walked toward the oven to start getting dinner ready.
"Did you see the letter from your friend Sadie?" Saleema asked.
"Sadie?" Charles asked, frowning. "No, I don't think I saw it."
"I'm surprised," Saleema said, sounding amused. "You two always write to each other using only your initials. I thought you'd have recognized it as a letter from her right away."
Suddenly, Charles remembered the letter addressed to a C.S. His wife was right: anytime he and Sadie wrote to each other, they referred to each other only by their initials. This would help make sure that their past identities were kept secret to any prying eyes.
"I think I saw it," Charles said. "I'll go and check it out."
Saleema nodded as she started to busy herself in the kitchen. Charles walked back into the living room and sat back down his recliner. He sorted through the mail until he found the letter addressed to C.S. He supposed he should have also recognized Sadie's handwriting, too. He had seen it enough times by now to know what it looked like as soon as he saw it on the envelope. His head must have been in the clouds earlier.
Charles opened the envelope and pulled out the letter, unfolding it carefully. As he started to read, he could almost hear Sadie reading the letter to him, despite how long it had been since they had seen each other in person.
Dear Mr. S,
How are you? Been a long time, hasn't it?
Hope those little ones are keeping you and Mrs. S young.
Things are the same as they ever was here down south. I'm still bounty hunting. It ain't glamorous work, but it sure as shit makes a decent living.
Did you hear about the members of our old friend group? Sounds like several of them were rounded up and taken out. I wonder if our old friend Jim Milton heard anything. Or wonder if he might be targeted. I sure hope not. That's the last thing Mrs. Milton and little Jimmy need.
I think I might pay them a visit, make sure they're okay. Maybe I'll see you too. If not, I'll send word once I've seen them or heard from them.
Sending hugs,
S.A.
Charles sighed when he finished reading the letter. Sadie hadn't said much, but she was voicing many of the same concerns he was having about their old friend, Jim Milton. Oh hell, who was he kidding? He was worried about John Marston and his wife Abigail and son, Jack. They had all been members of the gang back in the day and were some of the few who had made it out and were doing okay. Charles still heard from Tilly, Mary-Beth and Pearson from time-to-time and they had all left the area where the gang had fallen apart. The Marstons had stayed, and it seemed only inevitable that they would either be involved in tracking down former members of the gang, or even eliminated themselves.
Charles put all these thoughts to the side when Saleema called him in for dinner. He rolled up the newspaper and sat Sadie's letter next to it and stood up from his recliner.
After dinner and putting the boys to bed, Charles and Saleema returned to the living room. Before sitting down, Charles tinkered with the fire to make sure it was going to keep going while Saleema sat down and started to work on her knitting. Once he was assured the fire would keep burning strong, Charles sat down in his recliner.
"So, what did Sadie have to say?" Saleema asked.
"She heard about Dutch being killed," Charles said.
Saleema looked up from her knitting. She knew of Charles and his past and did not judge him for it. She had a look of concern on her face.
"He's dead?" she asked. "How?"
"Sounds like the government tracked him down and killed him. Along with Bill and Javier."
"Then that just leaves..." Saleema started, looking horrified at the thought on her mind.
"John and his family," Charles finished for her, nodding. "They're about the only ones left besides me, Sadie and a few others who have gone far from where we used to run."
"Oh my goodness," Saleema said. "Do you think the government is going to target them next? Or us or Sadie?"
"I think we're safe up here," Charles said. "The government stopped mentioning me as a member of the gang a long time ago. I don't know what happened to stop that, but I'm grateful it did. And Sadie was never mentioned as a member of the gang. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to become a bounty hunter."
"What about the Marstons?" Saleema asked.
Charles sighed. "I'm worried about them. Sadie is too, according to her letter. She wants to pay them a visit and check on them."
"Are you going to go, too?"
"I don't think so," Charles said, shaking his head. "I have a whole life up here. You and the boys need me."
"We can survive a few days without you, Charlies."
"I know. I know you could. But I don't want to take a trip just right now, not unless I know I have to. Sadie is going to visit them and check on them. She promised me she'd write once she's seen them.
II.
Sadie took in the familiar landscape of the Marston ranch. Although it had been several years since she had last set foot on the ranch, it looked mostly the same. The main difference was everything was no longer brand new. The barn, the corn silo and even the house now appeared weathered. It was clear that the ranch was "lived in '' and Sadie couldn't help but smile at the thought of the Marstons building and maintaining this life for themselves.
"John!" Sadie called when her horse reached the front door of the Marston home. "Abigail! Jack! Y'all in there?"
Sadie waited for a few moments before the door opened. Where she was expecting to see the three Marstons looking excited to see her, she instead saw Abigail and Jack carefully exiting the house, both of them carrying guns.
"Who goes there?" Abigail demanded, pointing a revolver straight at Sadie.
"Are you one of those government people?" Jack asked, holding a rifle up.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Sadie said, raising up her arms in surrender. "It's just me, Sadie Adler. You know, Mrs. Adler from the gang?"
Abigail and Jack both took a few steps forward, as if unsure if they should believe Sadie's words. Sadie couldn't help but notice John wasn't with them, but assumed he must be out with Uncle hunting or fishing.
"Sadie?" Abigail called, sounding uncertain. "Is it really you?"
"It's me, Abigail," Sadie replied, still holding up her hands. "I know it's been a long time and my hair is shorter than it used to be, but it's me."
Abigail and Jack exchanged a look before slowly lowering the weapons. Sadie jumped down from her house and hitched up to the post in front of the house. She walked up the steps to the house and noticed right away that Abigail and Jack were both pale. She also spotted redness in both of their eyes, as if they had been crying.
"Are you two okay?" she asked in a gentle voice. "And where's John and Uncle?"
Without warning, Abigail burst into tears and retreated into the house, slamming the door behind her. Sadie started at this reaction and knew something terrible had happened. She cleared her throat before speaking again.
"Jack?" she asked. The boy glanced up at her, trembling. "Did something happen?"
"It was those government men, Aunt Sadie," Jack said in a voice barely louder than a whisper. "They kidnapped me and Mama and made Pa go after Uncle Bill, Uncle Javier and Uncle Dutch. They made him their errand boy and then they killed him! The bastards killed Pa and Uncle!"
"Oh Jack!" Sadie exclaimed as Jack burst into tears, throwing his rifle into the ground. Sadie rushed forward and pulled Jack into a hug and let the boy sob into her shoulder. She held Jack tightly and rubbed circles on his back, whispering words of comfort into his ears. After a few minutes of this, Jack calmed down and pulled himself out of the hug.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Jack said, impatiently wiping away his tears.
"Don't apologize, Jack," Sadie said, still speaking in a soft tone of voice. She wasn't used to talking so quietly. "You have nothing to be sorry for."
"Pa and Uncle tried to fight them off. But then Uncle took a bullet to the chest. He died a few minutes later. Pa made me and Mama leave so he could face the government men on his own. We didn't get too far when we heard a bunch of gunshots. When they stopped, Mama told me to turn around on our horse to go check on Pa.
"It was horrible, Aunt Sadie. There was blood everywhere and Pa was dead. They just left him there in front of the barn with bullet holes all over his body."
"Oh my goodness," Sadie said, hardly able to stomach everything that Jack was telling her. "That's awful."
"We took Pa's body and washed it off as much as we could. There was so much blood. Finally, we wrapped his body in blankets and we left him and Uncle in the barn. We were gonna bury them, but it became too much for me and Ma, so we went back inside. This is the first time we've been outside since then."
"When did this happen, Jack?"
"Yesterday," Jack replied. "We were working on the farm when Uncle saw the government men coming. Pa told me to hide inside and then the fight began. I tried to help them fight off those men, but I couldn't. I couldn't."
At this, fresh tears fell down Jack's face. Sadie pulled him in for another hug.
"It wasn't your fault, Jack," Sadie said. "None of this was, you hear? Those men are snakes and they should be hanged for how they used your Pa like that and then murdered him. But none of it is your fault, Jack. I promise you."
Jack nodded and broke the hug.
"I should go check on Ma," he said, turning to go back into the house.
"You let me do that," Sadie said as she opened the door for Jack and led him into the house. "You and your Ma have been through enough. Let me take care of you two."
Jack nodded wordlessly as he shut the door behind him. To his immediate right was his bedroom. Rufus the dog was sitting on his bed and watched Jack and Sadie.
"Why don't you spend some time with Rufus," Sadie suggested, "help get your mind off of things, okay?"
Jack nodded again and walked into his room, shutting the door behind him. Sadie took a deep breath before she proceeded down the hallway that led to the living room. The house looked much as it did when she left, though some of the furniture was rearranged. Abigail was sitting on the sofa, her hands buried in her face as she cried.
Sadie sat down beside Abigail and put a hand on Abigail's shoulder. Abigail visibly relaxed at Sadie's touch and sniffed a few times before raising her head. She looked exactly as Sadie imagined she was feeling.
"Jack told me," Sadie explained. "I'm so sorry, Abigail."
"I know," Abigail whispered. "I know how sorry you are."
"I don't know exactly how you feel, but I have an idea," Sadie said. "It's probably how I felt after I lost my Jake. So I want you to know, Abigail, that if you need anything, I'm here for you as long as you need me."
"Thank you, Sadie."
"And if it's all right with you, I'd like to write to Charles and let him know. I wrote him before I came and I promised him I would update him when I found out anything."
Abigail took a moment to respond. Sadie couldn't blame her; reaching out to Charles would be risky. It was entirely possible that the government was still watching the Marston ranch, despite John's demise. But, Sadie also had a feeling that Abigail and Jack would be left alone, considered innocent by the same government that killed John and the others in the old gang.
"Yes, you should write to him. He deserves to know. And he might come to say goodbye to John. We'll give him a few days before we lay John and Uncle to rest."
Sadie nodded as she stood up from the sofa and walked into the dining room. There was a stack of paper and a pen sitting on the table, as if waiting for her to write a note to Charles. She sat down at the table and pulled a sheet of paper and picked up a pen.
Dear Mr. S,
By the time you get this, you may already know the terrible news: our friend Jim Milton has been killed. As has our favorite Uncle.
I just arrived at the Milton home. Mrs. Milton and little Jimmy are just devastated. As you know, I have much experience with the pain Mrs. Milton is feeling.
We're going to bury Jim and Uncle in the coming days. Mrs. Milton is hoping you'll get this letter and come quickly. I do, too. It would be great to see you again.
With a heavy heart,
S.A.
A few days later...
Sadie sat with Abigail and Jack in the living room of the Marston house. It had been a quiet few days since she had arrived. She had taken over running the farm, as Jack and Abigail were too numb to do anything other than merely exist. Although Sadie was a little rusty when it came to manhandling farm animals, it did help pass the time and she was happy to take care of the Marston ranch while Abigail and Jack were grieving.
"Abigail! Jack!" called a voice outside the house.
Sadie's hand flinched toward her holster, but Abigail put a hand on her arm, stopping Sadie from reaching for her revolver.
"Isn't that Charles?" Abigail asked, her voice stronger than it had been in several days.
Sadie listened closer to the voice that was still calling out Abigail and Jack's names. It did indeed sound like Charles, but considering everything that had happened, Sadie wanted to be sure.
"It sounds like him, but you two stay here for now. I'll go check."
Sadie stood up from the sofa and walked toward the front door, toward the sound of the voice calling out. She kept her hand hovering over her revolver just in case. Sadie took a deep breath before she opened the front door.
"Who goes there?" she called out.
"Sadie? Is that you?"
A figure came around the left side of the house. She recognized Charles instantly: he looked the same as he ever did, though his hair was shorter than it was when she had last seen him. He had also put on a few extra pounds, though he was still fit and looked like he could take on anyone who would try to challenge him physically.
"Charles Smith," Sadie said, finally taking her hand away from her revolver. "I see you got my message."
"Where are Abigail and Jack?" Charles asked.
"They're inside. They'll be happy to see you."
Charles approached the porch and walked up the steps. Sadie turned and gestured for him to follow her. She led him through the house and into the living room, where Abigail and Jack were standing, waiting.
"Oh, Charles!" Abigail cried as she threw herself into his embrace.
"I'm so sorry, Abigail," Charles said. "And you too, Jack. I came as soon as I got Sadie's letter. Saleema and the boys send their love."
"You could have brought them with you!" Abigail said, tears falling down her face, though she was smiling for the first time since Sadie had arrived at the ranch. "I would have loved to have finally met them!"
"I know," Charles said, nodding as he gave Jack a pat on the shoulders. "I didn't wanna overwhelm the two of you, so I told them to stay home. Plus, the boys are a little young for traveling."
"Well, I sure hope I get to meet them soon," Abigail said.
"You will, Abigail. I promise."
Charles turned to Sadie expectantly.
"Should we do it now?" he asked.
Sadie nodded.
"I've had the plots ready for a few days," Sadie said. "Jack and Uncle are in the barn still, wrapped up." She turned to Abigail. "It's your call, Abigail."
Abigail sighed deeply.
"Well I guess this ain't gonna be any easy if we put it off," she said. "Best do it now and get it over with."
Sadie nodded and led the others outside and toward the barn. She had dug up two holes in the ground to bury John and Uncle's bodies the day after she had arrived. The holes were dug up on a hill that was above the barn, where John and Uncle's bodies lay wrapped. Charles helped Sadie carry both of the bodies up the hill and into the holes Sadie had dug. There was a space in between the holes that could fit another grave; Sadie knew Abigail would have wanted to be buried next to John and in between him and Uncle, so left the spot undisturbed.
Abigail and Jack stood by while Charles and Sadie worked. Jack held his mother as the two of them cried. After both bodies had been placed, both Sadie and Charles scooped up the dirt and covered them. They also put rocks around the graves so headstones could eventually be put on the plot of land.
When they were finished, Sadie and Charles stood next to the Marstons and looked down silently at the two graves. Abigail and Jack were still crying and tears were forming in both Charles and Sadie's eyes, too. They stood looking at the graves for several minutes before they moved as a group back toward the house.
Later that night, after Jack had gone to bed, Sadie joined Charles and Abigail in the living room, carrying a tray of tea for the three of them to drink. She set the tray down on the coffee table and the three of them helped themselves.
"How are you doing, Abigail?" she asked when she had sat down.
"I'm doing all right, I suppose. I don't really know how I should be feeling."
"That's okay. You can be feeling lots of things and none of them are wrong."
Abigail nodded.
"Is there anything else we can do for you?" Charles asked.
"No, no," Abigail said. "You both have done a lot. Thank you for that. And I know Jack is grateful, too."
Abigail trailed off as a thought occurred to her. Charles and Sadie exchanged a glance, both of them shrugging.
"Actually, there is one more thing you can do for me," Abigail said.
"Anything," Sadie said with a nod.
"Just name it," added Charles.
"If anything ever happens to me," Abigail started before Sadie cut her off.
"Oh, Abigail..."
"No, no, really," Abigail said hurriedly. "I know it's pretty morbid to say it, but I need to anyway: if anything ever happens to me, you gotta promise me you'll take care of Jack. That boy has had it rough his whole life."
"Of course we'll take care of him, Abigail," Charles said with a nod. "You have our word."
"Absolutely," said Sadie. "You know, I've been thinking the past few days about moving back up this way. Things down south are moving pretty slow and the pay for my work is way better here than down there. I was thinking of moving back up near Valentine. I always enjoyed that area and I would be a lot closer to you and Jack."
"That would be nice, Sadie. It'd be good to see you once in a while."
"And I'll write and check in," Charles said. "And maybe bring Saleema and the boys down here the next time I'm here."
"I'd really like that, Charles. I know Jack would, too."
III.
Three years later...
Jack stood up from kneeling in front of the three graves on the hill. Two of the headstones were weathered from three years of standing under the hot sun and every other type of weather. The headstone in the middle, for his mother, Abigail, was brand new and Jack had just finished putting it in the ground to mark his mother's final resting place. The new headstone contained Abigail's name and years of birth and death, along with the phrase "Always in our hearts" written underneath it.
Jack put on his father's old cowboy hat as he walked away from the graves and headed toward the house. His mood was rather subdued, which was echoed by the weather. It was cloudy and windy out and Jack could feel a storm brewing in the area around Beecher's Hope. Indeed, as he walked toward the house, rain started falling, quickly soaking Jack, which did nothing to improve his mood.
The only thing Jack was feeling now was a lust for revenge. All he wanted in the world was for Edgar Ross to suffer for what he did to Jack's father. The bastard used John to meet his own goals and then killed him in cold blood. He needed to pay for what he did.
As he walked toward the house, his heart focused on seeking revenge, Jack hesitated when he heard familiar voices in his head.
"Jack, don't make the same mistakes we made," said Dutch.
Jack whipped around, reaching for his revolver. There was no way Dutch could be around him, could he? Jack glanced all over the ranch, but saw nobody else around him. He put the revolver back in the holster and continued walking toward the house.
"Jack," came the voice of Susan Grimshaw.
Jack stopped in his tracks, letting the rain fall down on his head for a few moments before he continued walking.
"Jack," said Lenny, another voice he hadn't heard in many years.
Jack ignored the voices and walked up the steps before entering the house, glad to be out of the rain.
"Jack," said Hosea's voice.
Jack hesitated before he continued walking toward the living room, bypassing his bedroom.
"Revenge is a luxury you can't afford, Jack," said Dutch, passing along some of his wisdom that he ignored later in his life.
Jack sat down on the sofa, wondering why he was hearing these voices.
"Revenge won't bring none of us back, son," came the voice of his father.
"I know, Pa," Jack said. "It ain't about that."
"Learn from the mistakes we made, Jack," said Abigail.
Jack sighed as he lay down on the sofa, removing his father's hat.
"You'll only put yourself in danger," said Hosea.
"You're better than this, Jack," said Uncle.
"Live the life your parents fought for," said Lenny.
"Don't throw away your future, Jack," said Susan.
Jack put his hands on his head, attempting to will away the voices that were speaking to him.
"Be better than we were, son," said Dutch.
"We'll always be with you, Jack," said Hosea.
Oddly, Jack found the voices comforting, even though he didn't agree with what they were saying. He knew what he had to do. For justice.
"Be the man we know you are," said Abigail.
"I love you, son; we all do," said John.
The next thing Jack knew, he flinched awake. He opened his eyes and realized he must have fallen asleep on the sofa. He got up and stretched, yawning. When he heard yet another familiar voice, he almost screamed in shock.
"Hey, kid."
Jack's posture stiffened and he turned toward the sound of the voice. There was no way it could be him; he'd been dead for 15 years. Jack turned and saw him sitting at the dining table, looking relaxed and just as he did in Jack's memories. The only difference was he no longer looked sick. He looked just as healthy as he ever did, maybe even more so.
"It can't be," Jack muttered to himself.
Arthur chuckled.
"Stranger things have happened, kid," he said. "Come here, Jack. Let me get a good look at you."
Jack stepped away from the sofa and into the dining room. He wasn't sure what exactly he was seeing, but had a guess that this was probably just a dream of some sort.
"What are you doing here, Uncle Arthur?" Jack asked.
"Just here to offer you some friendly advice, Jack."
Jack sighed. "You and everyone else."
"They're right, you know?" Arthur said. "But you are, too, Jack. In a way. I understand why you want revenge against Ross. Hell, I don't blame you at all for it. But you definitely need to think before you act. Revenge is a fool's game, Jack. I learned that the hard way. You'll throw away your future if you seek vengeance."
"Maybe, but I can't do nothing, Uncle Arthur!" Jack exclaimed. "What about all those lives he ruined? What about him making Pa do his dirty work and then killing him like a dog? He destroyed so many lives!"
"And he'll destroy yours if you let him, Jack," Arthur said, sounding incredibly patient despite Jack's outburst.
"I can't just sit here and do nothing. I have to do something to make him pay for his crimes!"
"I can't stop you, Jack. I know that. I just want you to think about things before you go running off doing something stupid."
"I have thought about this. I've thought about it every night since he killed Pa. Ross is going to pay for what he did, Uncle Arthur."
Arthur sighed.
"I know you probably won't change your mind, kid. I get that. All I can do is warn you that if you do kill him, you could start down a very dark path."
Jack's horse slowly walked through the ranch at Beecher's Hope. As it neared the house, Jack had to admit that not much had changed since Ross' demise. He didn't feel any different. He had expected to feel relief at Ross' death, but instead he found himself only indifferent to the whole thing. All he could think about was firing the bullets that had killed the government agent before Jack had calmly walked away and mounted his horse again, bound straight for home.
Jack hitched his horse on the hitching post outside the front door. He gave her a pat on the head before he walked up the stairs and entered the house. He walked past his bedroom, intent on getting a glass of water to calm his raging headache. He started when he saw two people sitting on the dining table, as if they were waiting for him.
"Hello, Jack," said Charles. "Been a long time."
"Charles!" Jack exclaimed. "Aunt Sadie! What are you two doing here?"
"Why are you surprised?" Sadie asked, frowning. "You wrote to me to tell me your mother had passed. I wrote to Charles to let him know and we decided to come check on you."
"Where have you been, Jack?" asked Charles. "We got here yesterday and have been worried about you."
Jack looked from Charles and Sadie, unsure how to answer them.
"Have you been seeking revenge against your father's killer?" Sadie suggested.
Jack blinked. Charles and Sadie exchanged a glance, looking as though something had passed between them without them saying anything.
"Jack?" Charles prompted after a moment of silence.
Finally, Jack sighed deeply and he nodded.
"Yes," he said in a quiet tone. "I went after Ross."
Charles and Sadie exchanged another glance and nodded at each other before they both stood up from the dining table.
"We need to go," Sadie said. "Now."
"Wait, what are you talking about?"
"We have to get you out of here, Jack," Charles said.
"Why? What's going on?"
"Oh for god's sake, Jack, use your brain, please!" Sadie snapped, sounding irritable. "You just killed a former government agent. Anyone who knows about Ross and your Pa are gonna immediately think you're responsible for killing him!"
"What do you mean?"
"Jack, listen," Charles said, sounding much more patient than Sadie. "Government agents could come here at any second looking to question you. We have to get you out of here before that happens. Otherwise you'll hang for killing Ross."
"We promised your mother we would take care of you if anything ever happened to her and that's what we're doing," Sadie said, sounding less irritable. "We gotta get you as far away from here as possible."
"Where am I going?"
"Canada," Charles said, grabbing some food from the cabinet and packing it into a bag. "You can stay with Saleema and I and the boys for as long as you want. We've got an extra room for you in the house where you can stay."
"Are you sure?"
"It's no problem. You're family, Jack. Like Sadie said, we promised your mother we'd take care of you."
"So get a move on and start packing your bags," Sadie said, sounding impatient again.
"All right, all right," Jack said, hurrying to his bedroom and grabbing a bag. He packed as many of his things as he could fit into it. He even grabbed Arthur's old hat and shoved it into the bag. The rest would just have to stay behind. Once his bag was packed, he rejoined Sadie and Charles in the living room.
"What about the house?" Jack asked.
"We gotta burn it," Sadie said. "I know it's not ideal, but we need to let the government think you died in a house fire. There will be so much rubble that they won't need to look for a burned body."
"Shit," said Jack. "I wish you would've told me that before."
"You would've taken longer to pack," Sadie said. "You go outside and wait with Charles while I get ready to burn this place down."
Charles motioned for Jack to follow him. They exited through the back door. Jack realized how much in his head he had been when he returned from killing Ross. If he had been paying attention, he would have seen Charles and Sadie's horses tied up on the hitching post behind the house.
"Are you sure about me staying with you, Charles?" Jack asked. "I don't want to impose."
"Don't worry about it, Jack. Saleema and I are happy to give you a home for as long as you need. Plus, the boys could use a big brother."
Jack smiled slightly. He had never thought about having a sibling. His parents had told him about his sister who had died the day after she was born, but he had no memory of her; he'd been too young when it happened. The idea of being a big brother appealed to him. He had grown up too much for someone as young as he was. It'd be nice to care for some younger siblings.
A few minutes later, Sadie came out of the house. Jack could see smoke starting to snake through the house behind her. She shut the door behind her and joined Charles and Jack.
"Well, take one last look at the place," Sadie said. "It's the last time we'll see it."
The three of them stood in silence as flames started to engulf the house. Jack felt a little sad as he watched. This was the first home he had lived in for any extended period of time. Everywhere else he had lived with his parents were only temporary homes. It was even worse before they left the gang. Back then, Jack had only known living outdoors without a roof over his head. It hurt him to know this was the last time he was ever going to see his first real home. But Charles and Sadie were right: Jack needed to get away. This was his chance to get out.
"Okay, we should get out of here," Sadie said. "Is your horse up front?"
"Yeah," Jack said, making to walk to the front of the house.
"You wait here," Sadie said, grabbing Jack and pulling him back toward Charles. "I'll go get her."
Sadie hurried to the front of the house, disappearing from view.
"What's with her?" Jack asked.
"She'll be fine," Charles said. "She's just worried about you, is all. We both are."
"I know," Jack said quietly.
"And look, I get why you did what you did. I may not have done the same as you, but I understand why you felt the need to do what you did. I just hope you can live with knowing what happened."
Jack nodded. It was refreshing to hear Charles' words instead of the dire warnings he had heard from the others. And that dream of Arthur.
Arthur...
"Do you mind if we make a stop on the way there?" Jack asked as Sadie came from the front of the house, leading Jack's horse.
"Of course," Charles said, nodding. "We'll just have to be quick."
Jack knelt down in front of the headstone at the top of the hill. Charles and Sadie were standing behind several yards away with the horses, both of them smoking cigarettes. The headstone, to Jack's slight surprise, was still in decent condition. He could still read Arthur's name clearly and the phrase, "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness."
"Hi, Uncle Arthur," Jack said. He felt a little childish talking to an inanimate object like this. But somehow, he knew Arthur was listening to him.
"I did take revenge. Like I said I would. But I feel like it didn't change anything. I guess I should've listened to you."
Jack took a deep sigh before he continued speaking.
"You were right, Uncle Arthur: revenge is a fool's game. I'm just lucky that Sadie and Charles were at home waiting for me. I'm going with them to Canada to get away in case the government comes after me for Ross. I'm a little scared about leaving, but I know I'll be okay with them. I just wanted to say goodbye to you before we left. I know I've never been here before, but I guess it's better late than never, right?"
Jack stood up. He tipped Arthur's hat at the grave. The hat fit him almost as perfectly as his father's did.
"Goodbye, Uncle Arthur," Jack said as a tear rolled down his face.
He turned and walked toward Sadie and Charles, who were chatting quietly amongst themselves. They stopped when they saw Jack approaching them.
"You okay?" Sadie asked, her voice returning to a gentle tone.
Jack nodded.
"You ready to go?" Charles asked as he and Sadie mounted their horses, waiting for Jack.
"Ready."