As the day's work began, the early morning sun was just dawning over Horseshoe Overlook. From Dutch's tent, one could hear the gramophone Miss O'Shea played every morning to liven up the atmosphere and give it a touch of finesse. The place was beginning to feel alive, especially around the fire that Pearson had lit moments before, where everyone congregated for their morning coffee. Ethan arrived at the fire as he took the first sip of his coffee. Now, his morning could begin.

"Hey Ethan." Lenny said at the table near the campfire.

Ethan smiled and approached his friend, steaming cup of coffee in hand. "Lenny, how's it going?"

"Good, everything is about the same as always around here. How about you? I heard you chased some medicine man yesterday–"

"Benedict Allbright," Ethan boasted. "As a matter of fact, I've got him here. He's still a little wet..."

Ethan laughed at his own joke, as he reached into his pocket where he produced a soggy wanted poster. Lenny leaned over and read it with a quirked brow; all of his crimes were listed. So many people died at the hands of the man in question and it was hard for him to imagine.

"Quite the personality. No doubt they'll know what to do with him."

"I know these types of people; they talk fast and manage to get away with anything," Ethan heaved a sigh. "That guy was a loon."

"Ha, really?"

"Can you believe he jumped off a cliff? Did he really think he would save himself?"

"Wait, are you serious?"

"You think I'm kidding?" Ethan insisted, smirking. "My wrists still hurt from roping his ass out of the rapids. And after all that, the bastard still thought I'd let him off!"

Lenny barked a laugh, then raised his cup of coffee hoping to deflect the situation.

"At least you've got something going on and you're not trapped here." Lenny remarked.

Ethan smirked. "I thought you liked it here, I mean, who wouldn't love listening to Uncle's stories or getting yelled at by Miss Grimshaw?"

"Ah - come on!" Lenny exclaimed, then sipped. "Ya know? Maybe I should get away for a few days."

"It'd probably do you some good."

"Well it's a good thing I'll be heading out today."

"Yeah, why's that?"

"Dutch wants to find a camp somewhere out West, so he asked me and Micah to head towards Strawberry and hopefully we'll find something."

Ethan paused for a moment, reflecting; they've only been at Horseshoe Overlook for a month and Dutch has already made plans to go back out West? Usually they'd find a spot to camp and stay for a good while before even thinking of moving. It didn't really make any sense to him.

"Is that really the best idea right now? I mean with what just happened in Blackwater–"

"Mm, I thought the same thing. But it's Dutch's call, not mine."

"And sending Micah of all people? You I can understand, but that snake?"

"As long as it gets me out of camp, I don't care."

Ethan snorted. "Well good luck with that."

"Ethan Morgan!"

Ethan knew that screech all too well, he sighed and forced a smile as he turned towards the approaching Miss Grimshaw.

"Morning, Miss Grimshaw."

Ethan loved Miss Grimshaw, she was one of the people who raised him, however, her early morning antics weren't always appreciated nor appropriate.

"Ma'am," Lenny nodded.

"Gentlemen," She turned and handed Ethan a letter. "Your mother sent this from Valentine."

The statement alone was enough for Ethan to nearly spit out his coffee. Incredulous and even suspicious, he couldn't believe it was true.

"Oh, uh, thank you."

"One of the girls grabbed it for you. They said Mr. Marston mentioned it was your mother who delivered it. Apparently, she knows we're camped somewhere out here and asked that this letter be given straight to you."

Ethan nodded, still in shock over the turn of events.

Miss Grimshaw and Lenny left him, hoping to give him some space and he appreciated it - he wasn't exactly sure how to process this information anyway, let alone with an audience. The whole camp knew of Ethan's situation regarding his mother, even though he'd prefer that some didn't. They would send letters to each other occasionally, though he would have to go under a different name, so that the law wouldn't catch on. Unfortunately they weren't able to talk as much as he liked. Although he was grateful whenever he did hear from her, and the last time he received a letter was a little over six months ago.

Ethan opened the letter and began reading - every word sounded exactly like his mother, and it was as if she was right in front of him.

To Ethan, my dearest son.

I've written this letter a hundred times or more and I cannot get it right. It's me - you know it's me from the bad handwriting.

My sweet boy, it's been so long since I last heard from you, and my heart aches from how much I miss you. It's been difficult, 'near impossible' to pinpoint exactly where you and the gang would be. I would see the occasional newspaper clipping or rumbling from the law, which made things easier for me.

I've been in Valentine for a couple of months. I had some bad luck and, well, it's a long story and not an interesting one, but I am here for now. I saw a couple of the girls, or whatever the polite term for them is - that ran with you and your associates in town, and I heard of a man who sounded like your father.

I would love to see you again, if you could spare me a little bit of your time. I'm renting a room at Chadwick Farm, just north of Valentine.

Love your Momma,

Mary Linton

After finishing the letter, Ethan stuffed it in his jacket and mounted Gray, leaving Horseshoe Overlook and the camp behind without saying so much as a goodbye to the others. He rode towards Valentine and followed the dusty roads, where the homesteaders settled. Following the path north, Ethan found Chadwick farm.

The place was quiet and peaceful; a couple of animals and several chickens in separate pens. It was the kind of place where someone could raise a family and live a peaceful life. Ethan stayed on his horse for a moment, listening to the stillness of the farm, which was soon interrupted by the clucking of the hens or the snorting of the hogs yet to be butchered. It'd been a long time since he last saw his mother, and he couldn't help but feel nervous. After adjusting his hat, Ethan slid from his horse and headed for the gate. His boots crunched on the planks of the porch as he stepped up to the door. And without hesitation he knocked.

His nerves grew and he tried to distract himself by looking out over the field and hills. When he heard the door open, the young man did not expect to be greeted by the barrel of a shotgun. There stood a mestizo woman dressed in plain clothes and a scowl.

"Yes?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," He quickly removed his hat as a sign of no ill intent. He cleared his throat as he recovered from the surprise. "I'm looking for Mary Linton…Is she in?"

The dark haired woman raised a brow. "Who's looking for her?"

"Oh uh…I'm, I'm her son, Et...Edward Malcom."

The woman stepped back for a moment and nodded.

"One moment," The woman said. "Mrs. Linton, a caller for you."

Ethan waited only for a moment, then he saw the person he came to meet appear before his very eyes. The surprise on her face parallelled the surprise on his.

"Hey Ma," Ethan ducked his head.

Mary wasted no time in embracing her son.

"Ethan!" She exclaimed. "Look how big you are..."

Ethan wished that this moment in time would never stop. Life in the west had made their relationship peculiar, but that didn't imply that it was bad. On the contrary, he loved his mother very much. He thought about her everyday and always wondered what life would be like had he been raised by her instead of the gang.

Ethan smiled. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you." Mary said with tears in her eyes.

Ethan didn't want her to let go of him, and he suspected she didn't want to either.

"I heard about Blackwater," She sniffled. "I feared for you; I was horrified of what might've happened."

When Mary finally pulled herself together, they both took a seat at the small table outside, where the maid fixed them something to drink. Ethan's rough cowboy exterior was in stark contrast to the white tea cups.

"Thank you,"

Mary smiled at the sight of her son, proud of the man he had become.

"How've you been?" She asked. "How's your father?"

"He's fine," Ethan replied. "He went into the mountains with Hosea a few days ago, hunting some giant bear. I think they should be on their way back by now. As for the Blackwater thing...well, it all happened pretty quickly. Me, Pa and Hosea weren't on the ferry so I can't comment on it, but I know it was bad…we lost some folk. Jenny and the Callender Boys, Sean was arrested but we managed to save him before he met the noose."

Mary placed a gentle hand over Ethan's.

"It's been a rough few weeks, but we've settled down in a place called Horseshoe Overlook, it's actually not far from town."

"It sounds like it's been an experience…I'm sorry you've had it so rough."

"It's not all been bad, I mean…I met someone."

Mary gasped; amusement on her face. Her joy was comparable to Ethan's embarrassment.

"Oh my lord, who is she? Is she from the gang?"

"She's from the gang," Ethan affirmed. "Her name is Mary-Beth."

"Oh, is she–"

"No, she's not like the rest–" He shook his head. "She's a writer."

"Do you plan to marry her?"

"Ma..."

She smiled, stirring her tea. "Well I'd like to have some grandchildren."

"Ma!"

"You're not getting any younger and neither am I - I'm already at that age, don't you think?"

"Yeah, well, I guess. But..."

"I'm happy for you, Ethan. Really. She sounds lovely."

"Thank you."

Mary's face quickly became apologetic. "I tried to send you letters. But it was hard to track you down, and as you went further out west, it was impossible for me to find you."

He squeezed Mary's hand. "I know you tried, you don't need to feel bad."

"I think about you everyday."

"I do too."

"You may look like your father but you surely don't act like him," She breathed a quiet laugh - her face soon fell again. "Maybe if I had fought a little harder for you, I would've been able to raise you."

Ethan was silent as he absorbed his mother's words.

"It hurts me to think that you can't live a normal life, just because I didn't do what I could."

She was pouring her heart out to him and he didn't know how to act. Growing up, Arthur had always been strict and mostly kept to himself, rarely talked about his feelings and didn't care what others thought about him. And all of that rubbed off on Ethan; he wouldn't talk about his own feelings and he would find it hard to comfort others. He didn't think it was necessarily a bad thing, he just wasn't as empathetic as others.

"You couldn't have known that all this would happen, Ma, don't blame yourself–" He waved his hand. "And besides, my life hasn't been all that bad, I'm not working day and night on a farm or slaving away all day inside of a bank. We're free folk. We go where we want, when we want, and we help others in need."

She looked at him pointedly. "You don't understand Ethan, you're a wanted man - all of you are. You rob banks and kill people for a living, and everyday you wake up there's a chance that it'll be your last. That's why I should've tried harder to keep you."

He knew she was right, but being an outlaw was the only thing he knew. Leaving with her now would serve him no purpose, he wouldn't know how to fit into society. And society wouldn't have him, he was wanted for murder, thieving and other things he'd rather not remember. He would be dead before he could blink.

"That's not to take away from the person you've become today. You're a good man, Ethan, and you always have been. You do what you think is right and that's all that matters."

Ethan smiled. "Pa raised me well."

They talked for what seemed like hours, catching up on each other's lives. Mary had the unfortunate news that her husband, Barry Linton, passed away a little over a year ago from pneumonia. Ethan had only met Barry once, and that was at his mother's wedding, which ironically, was the last time he saw her in person.

Ethan hadn't seen enough of Barry to form a solid opinion of him, but from what he saw, he seemed like a good man. Someone that his mother's family far more liked and appreciated than his own father. The main thing was that she was happy, and that's all that mattered to him at the time.

That's when Mary had to ask him for his help. His mother's family had never been good to him, his grandmother never wanted to see him, and it was better not to talk about his grandfather, an alcoholic bastard who never accepted his parent's relationship.

"Your Uncle Jamie is with the Chelonians," Mary informed.

"Chelonians?" Ethan replied, brow raised. "Those people are…odd to say the least."

Mary pursed her lips. "Your uncle ran away from home long ago and went to live with them in Cumberland Forest."

"They're crazy, every last one of them."

"That's what I told Jamie, but he wouldn't listen," She heaved a heavy sigh. "Now I'm afraid they'll do something to him."

"You say they're in the Cumberland Forest?"

"Yes, the last time I tried to talk to him, they were there….performing some strange ritual."

"It'll take me the rest of the day, but if you can point out where they are, I can try and get him back."

"Oh, Ethan," Mary gripped his hand. "Thank you - thank you so much. I miss Jamie, you know? You were always his favorite."

Ethan rose from his seat and headed towards Gray, who grazed happily near the pasture. Mary followed close behind him.

"I know, he always treated me like an actual person and not a criminal, I owe him for that. I'll track him down and see what I can do."

"When you find him head to the station in Valentine," Mary instructed. "I'll meet you both there."

"All right, Ma."

Mary hugged him. "Thank you again."

Ethan mounted Gray and flexed his fingers. Mary stopped in front of Gray and patted the side of his snout; he gave her a gentle nuzzle.

"He likes you."

"He's beautiful."

Ethan tipped his hat. "Don't worry, I'll get Jamie out of there."

"Thank you, Ethan," Mary looked up, shading her eyes from the sun. "I love you."

"I love you Ma." He replied.

Ethan led Gray back to the road that would take him through Valentine. And once he made it through the muddy town, his destination was set. He just hoped there was still time to save his uncle. Around half an hour later, Ethan had returned to the Heartlands. Much to his chagrin, he couldn't fully enjoy the view that the cliffs and steep trails could offer. Even though his mission at the moment was to rescue his uncle, who was nearly the same age as him.

Sometimes it was hard for him to grasp that his mother's brother was his own age. The thought led him to a few other thoughts that eventually led to questions he couldn't answer. The idea of having an everyday life with his Ma sometimes became such an intrusive thought, that he could dream of the life he never had.

Sometimes he had dreams; he dreamt of a farm, a ranch, with his Ma, his Pa and himself, all living together, working the land or tending livestock. An idyllic life, as much as it was unreal. He refocused on the present as he pushed those thoughts from his mind. His current life; his Pa, Blackwater, Mary-Beth were all part of the here and now. It wasn't the best life though and the very fact that they were constantly being pursued by the law was evident of the contrary.

Maybe it wasn't the most honest life, nor was it the safest. And many times he questioned the actions of some of those in the gang like Strauss, Micah and sometimes even Dutch. The life he had chosen, the one he grew up in - it was all he knew. After a while, Ethan caught a glimpse of black smoke through the trees. Reaching the top of the hill, a small camp sat nestled near the treeline of the Cumberland forest. The young man approached them cautiously, looking around at the tents and paraphernalia. Ethan knew little about them, but at least he was sure they were pacifists.

Perhaps, too pacifist. And strange, like their chants. "Chelonia...Chelonia...Chelonia...Chelonia..."

"And what is Chelonianism?" The eldest of the group asked, the sect master. "No less than the recent rediscovery...of theology."

The sound of his footsteps garnered confused looks from the cult.

"Uh gentlemen."

The elder of the group turned, eyes widened in disbelief as they all rose in unison, performing the same chant and forming a chain with their hands.

"Shell of Safety...Shell of Safety..."

Ethan took a step back and searched for Jamie. And there in the midst of rising chaos, he found him - the boy uncle who, at one time, shared many laughs together.

"Sir," Ethan greeted. "Uh listen, can I talk to that man over there for a moment?"

Jaime's brows shot up. "Ethan? Is that you?"

"Uncle Jamie," Ethan smiled, confirming his identity with a nod. "It's been a while."

"Ethan, you're so…you look just like…"

"Like my Pa? I know. It's so good to see you again. Look, my Ma sent me, she's worried about you–"

The elder then stepped forward, separating from the rest of the group. The man in linen clothes, with an embroidered turtle in the center, examined Ethan with a peaceful but determined look.

"The boy has chosen a path - the path to truth."

"That...I see," Ethan pointed out. "But, sir, my Ma - his sister, wants to talk to him and–"

Jamie wanted to step forward and show strength, but something prevented him.

"Ethan–" He all but whispered. "I've chosen a path."

"The boy has chosen a path. He has chosen safety," The elder explained. "What path have you chosen?"

Ethan frowned, incredulous at this nonsense. However, he knew he had to keep his composure. Maybe these people weren't evil? They just had weird ideals.

Ethan heaved a sigh, lifting his hat and running his fingers through his hair. "I guess I'm still searching...seeking, understanding and...knowledge of...protection?"

The elderly man smiled. "We are all searching, Chelonianism is about searching!"

"I see," Ethan said with a nod.

He was doing everything possible to mask his discomfort from the foolishness of this group.

"Now son, what do you think we search for?"

"I–" Ethan raised an eyebrow, trying to draw out some conjecture. "I don't know, sir. I guess something about turtles and…safety? safety, and meaning?"

The elder Chelonian offered a smile, then turned towards Jamie.

"Jamie knows the truth," He said. "But, of course, you may speak with him."

"Well, I really appreciate it," Ethan chuckled. "If your teachings are so good, my words couldn't hurt him or anyone here, could they?"

The Chelonians hurried to the side, as Ethan approached him. Jamie took a step back, close to the edge of the cliff where they were praying.

"I–"

"Come on, Jamie."

"I'm not going with you!" The boy shouted as he ran towards the horses.

"I just want to talk!" Ethan exclaimed. "Just go talk to my Ma and make up your own mind!"

His words had fallen on deaf ears, and soon Ethan was forced to run to Gray.

"Damn it, Jamie!" Ethan shouted as he galloped down the hill.

"This is none of your business!" Jamie yelled, his steed weaving in and out of the trees.

The descent was dangerous; one false step and this would be the last thing he would ever do. Ethan had to give Jamie credit for being able to control his animal.

"They're using you!" Ethan yelled.

"What do you know about any of this?"

"Come on, just stop and let's talk!"

"I don't have to answer to you!"

"Then do it for my Ma!" Ethan shouted. "She's worried about you!"

"You pop up out of nowhere!"

"Why do we have to do this the hard way?"

As they rode down the hill, Ethan must've jumped numerous rocks and logs that caused him to lose ground. His uncle barely had control of his horse, which made him slow. Maybe luck was on his side after all? When they reached the bottom of the hill, Ethan watched in disbelief as Jamie rode through a farmer's wheat field. Ethan slowed Gray down to a trot, then skirted around the farmer's field. His ambitions may not be for farming, but he respected the craft. Once he was close, Jamie drove his horse harder, which would undoubtedly tire the animal out; something Ethan could take advantage of.

"What the hell were you going to do, live in the mountains with those people?" Ethan shouted.

"They're my friends!"

"Oh, what friends?"

"If you don't leave me alone, I'll shoot you. I swear!"

"Come on, you ain't a killer!"

"You don't know who I am!" Jamie snapped. "Move! Move!" He urged his horse.

Off in the distance, the sound of a train whistle sounded, distracting them both for a moment. Ethan knew what he was going to do, because it was something he would do. With a couple of nudges to the side, Gray picked up momentum. The distance between him, Jamie and the road worked against him. Ethan watched as his uncle crossed the road, just before the train. Ethan slowed and slid off Gray. He noticed that Jamie had gotten off his horse and was walking towards the tracks.

"I'm a man now and you are too! You know just as well I do that we have things we have to do!"

Ethan watched him in between the train cars.

"I'm not saying you're not a man!" Ethan exclaimed. "Only that this is ridiculous!"

"I've found something...a calling!"

"Calling? Come on!"

"I'm not taking advice from you!" Jamie shouted. "You're an outlaw! Now leave me alone. They're good people!"

Ethan watched as Jamie pulled a revolver from his waistline.

"I'm warning you, Ethan! Family or no family, leave me alone!" Jamie said, his voice trembling.

He raised his gun and pointed it skyward, then pulled the trigger. Jamie's horse spooked, reared, and galloped away. Luckily, Gray was used to the chaos and stayed on the other side of the tracks. Ethan's young reflexes acted quickly; he ripped his gun from its confines and blew the revolver out of Jamie's hand. His uncle was stunned by the result of his insanity. And insanity it was. He crossed the tracks, stomping in frustration. Jamie was a good two or three years older than him and yet, was acting two or three years younger than him!

"Come on, it's time to come home." He said, holstering his pistol.

Jamie ran and engulfed his nephew. "Okay...I will. Have I been a fool?"

"I don't know. We're all fools one way or another."

And just as the hug broke, Ethan smacked Jamie against the head.

"Ow!"

"But you joining the Chelonians and making my Ma worry about you is enough to say you're a fool!"

Ethan picked up Jamie's revolver and handed it to him.

"Still….believing in a better world is not a fool's thing. I think it's...noble."

"Thank you…"

Ethan called his horse and mounted him, helping Jamie climb up behind him.

"I missed you, Ethan," Jamie expressed. "What are you doing here? Are Arthur and Mary back together?"

Ethan breathed a laugh.

"No, I don't think that's ever going to happen, Jamie," He heaved a heavy sigh. "No, Ma found out I was riding around here and asked to see me."

"Well, this wasn't how I thought today would turn out."

"Yeah, I didn't think so either," He snorted. "Heh, I'm already taller than you."

"Oh, come on!"

"Damn, Jamie, that was amazing how you handled your horse."

"Well, your Pa was the one who taught me."

"Yeah, I guess that explains a lot."

As Jamie started to feel better, intrusive thoughts began to flood his mind. The ride to Valentine was long, and after Jamie told him about all the money he invested with the Chelonians, the questions for Ethan began.

"Hey, what's the outlaw life like?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, is it like how your Pa explained it?"

Ethan wasn't sure how to reply to that question. "It's alright, I guess."

"Yeah, but you've done some awesome things right?"

"I suppose so."

"Have you robbed banks?"

"Jamie..."

"And trains? Did you rob trains? Or do you guys rob things like stagecoaches?"

Ethan heaved a heavy sigh.

"How's Arthur?"

"He's fine," Ethan said, waving his hand. "He went up into the mountains a couple days ago to hunt a giant bear."

"Oh wow, will he make it back?"

"Of course, he will!"

"He didn't see Mary?" Jamie questioned.

"No, I don't think he's going to see her."

"And what about you?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I told you I saw her."

"Yeah, but did you miss her?"

Ethan was silent for a few moments before nodding.

"Yes, very much."

"She missed you a lot, too," Jamie admitted.

"Yeah, I know."

Valentine loomed in the horizon, the train at the station billowing smoke from the engine. The cars were emptying in droves, some folks dressed in fancy attire and others in plain clothes. Not like it much mattered here, eventually your clothes would be covered in mud. After Ethan tied Gray to the hitch, he accompanied his uncle into the station. When they entered, their mother was waiting for them with both of their suitcases.

"Ethan, Jamie!" Mary called out, rising from her seat.

Jamie ran into her awaiting arms, embracing her tightly. And from that hug alone, Ethan could tell it'd been some time since they last saw each other.

After their embrace, Mary turned to her son. "Thank you, Ethan, thank you!"

"You're welcome, Ma."

Ethan helped his mother take the suitcases to the train, Where Jamie took them inside, leaving him and his mother alone.

"Thank you for everything," She whispered, caressing his face. "I wish you could come with us."

"I know."

"I know you won't be able to do it," She frowned. "But if you ever change your mind, you can find us in Saint-Denis. We'll be there for the foreseeable future, hopefully finding some decent work."

"I promise to come visit you when I get the chance."

She smiled then kissed his forehead. "Promise you'll write to me?"

"Of course!"

Ethan waited on the platform seated on a hard bench, watching as the train departed the station. He could see his mother and uncle waving goodbye from the window. He could see the relief and sadness settling in her dark brown eyes. She wasn't really fine, not even with her brother alive and well. She wanted him too. As dusk approached, he rode back to camp, his mind full of intrusive thoughts. He was beginning to feel overwhelmed, and as he unsaddled Gray he stood by his side, thinking. And it wasn't until he heard a shriek that he instantly tucked all of his problems back into the throes of his mind.

"You sick bastards! What do you want from me?!" Kieran shouted.

Ethan suddenly remembered the captive they had - all this time and it slipped his mind entirely. To be honest though, he was impressed that Kieran managed to hold on for so long. He was still pretty fragile and scared of his own shadow, but he was toughening up.

He looked up and watched as Bill placed a clamp in the fire - clearly up to no good.

"You ready to talk, boy?" Bill questioned, ripping Kieran's pants down.

"What the?" Ethan muttered.

Kieran, the O'Driscoll boy, was shaking as he tried to pull away from his captor. That made an impression on Ethan, and a great sickness came over him. He knew he had to do something.

"Hey!" Ethan shouted, hurrying over to the fire. "What the hell are you doing, Bill?"

"Ah, little Morgan, what do you think?" He snorted. "I'm going to make that O'Driscoll talk–"

"Have you lost what is left of your mind?" Ethan growled. "Do you really think that's going to make him talk?"

Bill glanced up. "Maybe, I'dunno, why do you ask?"

"What do you think you'll get out of him besides pain?"

"Well, that's what I'm hoping for the most!" Bill snickered. "Here they come, O'Driscoll boy!"

Kieran let out a shriek, as Ethan stepped between the two of them, shoving Bill back.

"Cut your fuckin' shit!" Ethan yelled.

"Who the fuck are you talkin' to you little shit?!" Bill shoved him back.

Just as the two were about to come to blows, a loud booming voice broke through their fists.

"Stop it right now! " Dutch ordered. "You fools are fighting each other when it's the O'Driscoll's that need killing!"

Ethan heaved a heavy sigh. "Sorry Dutch."

Bill grunted. "Yeah, sorry."

"Nghhh–" Kieran groaned. "I'll talk, I'll tell what I know..."

Ethan turned to Kieran; Dutch and Bill approached him.

"Okay, start talking then." Dutch ordered, a cigar between his fingers.

Bill grabbed him by the hair so he could look him in the eyes.

"Yeah, you do that or I'll warm the tongs!"

"Okay, okay!" Kieran cried. "I know where the O'Driscoll's are holed up, and you're right, he doesn't like you any more than you like him. He's at Six Point Cabin."

Dutch gestured to Bill, who was disappointed he didn't get to use the tongs.

"One less problem." Ethan whispered.

"I can take you there," Kieran said. "I don't like him. I mean, I like him even less than I like you. No offense."

Dutch chuckled, "None taken."

"Well, okay then partner," Ethan said, patting Kieran's shoulder. "Why don't you take a few of us up there...right now."

"Heh, you're not going son." Dutch announced.

Ethan raised his eyebrow in question. "Are you sure? I can do it."

"You've done more than enough for us, way more than several others around here–" Dutch turned his gaze to Bill. "No, mister Morgan, you go and get yourself some rest. I'll send Bill with Charles and Javier."

"Oh, well thanks."

Ethan had the rest of that day to himself, until dinner of course - if it was even edible tonight. Still, as he watched Javier and Bill lead Kieran to the horses, a concern grew. Something told him that Kieran would be part of the casualties if he wasn't there.

"Hey, Ethan." Charles greeted, lifting his saddle.

"Hey…good luck."

Charles stopped mid stride. "Don't worry, I'll see they don't kill him."

Ethan nodded, grateful for the gesture. At least he could trust Charles.

May 31, 1899

Well I saw my Ma today after a few years and she's still as pretty as I last remembered. I missed her and her warm embrace. My Pa might not miss her or love her anymore, but I sure do. And I wish we could all coexist together, but my Ma wants a better life and that's not the gang.

I sometimes wonder why I'm still here, with the gang, and then I remember I don't know much else besides. She asked me to find my uncle Jaime, who's only 3 years older than me. He's technically my Ma's half brother - my grandfather has some explaining to do. Anyway, I had to go search for him because he'd gotten caught up in some cult. The Chelonians they call themselves, and a cult they are. They have an odd love for turtles, which is kinda funny, but not their practice.

Jaime was almost gone too, if not for me chasing after him. I'm pretty sure he would've gone off with them, never to be seen or heard from again. My Ma was real happy to see him safe and sound and I was just happy I didn't have to give her bad news of his demise. They left for Saint Denis, a big city down South. She said she'd like it if I visited her and I just might one day. I might even stay a few days with her, I'm sure my Pa won't mind it.

We don't like civilization much, but uh, if I can get a hot bath and meal, I'm there. I might even convince my Pa to come with - he could use a bath these days! He'll probably refuse it on account of there being too many people and I can't blame him. I don't like people much either.

So I came back to camp just in time to see ol Bill ready to fry Kieran's man bits. Now I get torturing the enemy for information, but Kieran is an unfortunate casualty in a war he had nothing to do with. He's neither an O'Driscoll or a Van Der Linde. He's…well suffice to say I don't know his last name yet, but I know it's not O'Driscoll.

Anyway, Bill had him in position, readying the clamp. I stopped him and he got mad at me. I don't care much for Bill, so it didn't hurt my feelings any. Certainly didn't hurt my feelings when we threw hands. The thing that bothered me most was the others turning a blind eye - it was as if they knew but didn't care.

My Pa and Hosea aren't back yet, but I know if they were here, they would've stopped Bill and maybe knocked him against the head. I wish I had the chance though, but Dutch intervened before Miss Grimshaw could. She would've had both our balls in a vice then.

I thought that was it, but Dutch demanded Kieran talk while Bill grabbed his hair and pulled. He finally started talking even though he didn't know much. He knew of a location, which is all Dutch ever wanted. And now they're all headed to Six Point Cabin, prepared to take them out. Their main target is Colm of course, but anyone will suffice at this point, so long as a message is sent. I was not invited this time, because Dutch says I do too much for the gang and I need to stay back and rest.

I guess I do need the rest and the gang needs protecting, now that most of the men are gone. John, Sean and me are the only male force - I don't even count Uncle or the Reverend as a force, they're both wasted space in my opinion.

I am hoping I get enough nerve to see Mary-Beth soon. I think, after the day I had, I could use another kiss or more. Heh, I really hope no one reads my journal!

E.M