It was one of the best night's sleep for Ethan, and it was much needed after seeing his mother, despite replaying their last goodbye in his head. He didn't seem to revisit that moment with pain, but rather, a certain fondness. He wouldn't even think about his uncle and his foolish behavior - it would just be a memory he stored in the back of his mind and a story for another time. Soon, night gave way to dawn and the camp was back on its feet again; doing their morning chores, Pearson bringing out the pots and pans to cook something not edible. The girls doing their laundry, under the supervision of Miss Grimshaw.
The night shift guards coming in for a cup of coffee, as the day shift prepared for their duty. Ethan on the other hand, was peacefully sleeping, or rather, just sleeping. He couldn't recall the last time anything in his life was peaceful. However, his slumber was interrupted by a person he never would've imagined, proving the latter.
"E-Ethan?"
A hand shook the shoulder of his arm that dangled out from his cot. As Ethan began to slowly wake, and after regaining full consciousness, he snapped at the sight of the O'Driscoll boy. He grabbed his revolver that sat on the crate beside his bed.
"W-Wait! Wait! Wait! Don't shoot me!"
"What the fuck are you doing here!?" Ethan snapped.
The adrenaline he felt in that moment was much stronger than any shitty coffee Pearson ever made.
"Ethan, stop!" Charles intervened. "Put the gun down. He's one of us now."
Kieran remained in place, trembling and wide-eyed.
"One of us?" Ethan asked. "What do you mean?"
"Yesterday, he saved my life at Six Point Cabin," Charles explained.
"Really - he did?"
Kieran swallowed thickly. "Y-Yeah, that's what–"
"I'm talking to him."
Ethan had nothing against the boy, he'd seen him suffer enough. However, he preferred hearing the truth from the lips of someone he trusted.
"I talked to Dutch when we got back and he's allowing Kieran to stay with us."
"Really?" Ethan asked, perplexed. "Dutch is okay with an O'Driscoll staying with us?"
"I told you, I'm not an O'Driscoll!"
Ethan heaved a sigh as he grabbed his hat.
"Well why'd you wake me up then?"
"I just wanted to ask if you'd mind me taking care of your horse?"
"Why?"
"Dutch ordered me to take care of the horses, and I wanted your permission to approach your horse."
"Oh–"
Ethan eyed Kieran with some suspicion. This whole situation was a bit unusual, but he respected the fact that he came and asked permission first, it seemed like a nice gesture.
"Yeah you can do it," Ethan relented. "But he might kick you if he doesn't like you. He's like that."
"N-No problem," Kieran stuttered. "I know how to approach horses that don't trust me."
Kieran turned and left Ethan's tent.
"He looks scared," Charles noted.
"I guess some asshole wanting to cut off your balls will do that to you."
"Yeah…could be an asshole threatening to shoot him too." Charles teased.
"Yeah, yeah…so what the hell happened to make Dutch change his mind?" Ethan questioned.
Charles took note of Ethan's disbelief - they all assumed Dutch would never concede, and he likely would've never done so if Kieran didn't save his life. He showed true bravery for someone he didn't even know.
They left Ethan's tent and made their way toward the center of camp, where the coffee was brewing and whatever God awful food Pearson was cooking.
"When we arrived at the cabin, Colm wasn't there, but the O'Driscoll's were," Charles explained. "A fight broke out; before we knew it, there were more than a dozen of them shooting at us."
"What luck," Ethan sassed, pouring a cup of coffee. "So?"
"Well, I made it to the shack, and an O'Driscoll had been hiding behind the door, next thing I knew, the door slammed into my face and I was on the ground. Bill and Javier weren't nearby and I dropped my gun. Kieran, of all people, showed up and saved me."
"You trust him?"
"I think what he did was out of instinct," He heaved a sigh. "He was shaking like a pup right after he shot the guy…but I think we can trust him."
"If you say so," Ethan sipped his cup of coffee. "I trust your judgment."
As soon as they settled the matter, Ethan quickly changed the subject.
"You know if Lenny's around?"
"He left yesterday, remember? He and Micah traveled west."
"Oh shit, yeah I remember now…I still don't think it's a good idea - them two."
"Yeah, I know," Charles replied, setting his cup in the bucket. "Are your Pa and Hosea back yet?"
"No, but they shouldn't be long," He shrugged. "Maybe by tomorrow."
"Well…you wanna go hunting?"
"Hunting?" Ethan snickered. "Hmm, I guess it couldn't hurt to try."
"You know enough, it's time."
"Uh, hey–"
Ethan turned around and was pleasantly surprised.
"Mary-Beth…hey."
Charles smirked. "I'm gonna get the horses ready."
Mary-Beth stepped closer. "Morning."
"Morning to you too."
They both smiled awkwardly at each other, like a pair of lovers might the next morning. She folded her hands, as she rocked on her heels.
"Did you see your mother yesterday?"
"Yeah, I was with her for a few hours."
"How'd it go?"
"It went well–" He shrugged. "I guess it was okay - a little weird. I mean, it's been a while since I last saw her."
"But?"
Ethan looked at Mary-Beth, her smile comforting.
"It was good," He breathed. "I didn't realize how much I missed her."
"Well I'm happy for you," She reached out and touched his arm. "I'd love to meet her one day."
"Yeah? Well next time I see her I'll take you."
"Really?" She exclaimed.
He smirked. "Well yeah, why not?"
"Ethan?"
He tore his gaze away from Mary-Beth, blushed and looked down.
"Yeah?" He coughed.
"Horses are ready to go."
"So where are you off to now?" Mary-Beth wondered aloud.
"Hunting, we'll be back before sunset."
"Well be careful." She wished, reaching for him.
Ethan reciprocated the gesture; a quick, but generous hug that lingered a bit as he pulled away.
"Stay safe here."
He turned to Gray and hoisted himself up in the saddle. He tipped his hat, then urged the horse into a trot, following after Charles. It didn't take long for the questions, which was the sole reason he didn't want to pursue Mary-Beth in the first place.
"So you and Mary-Beth, huh?"
Ethan felt his cheeks turn hot. "So what're we hunting…or rather, what're you hunting?"
Charles snickered. "Bison."
"Bison…really?"
Charles nodded. "There's a pack of them in the Heartlands."
"I reckon one of those could feed all of us for a couple of months."
"Heh, yeah."
After falling into a comfortable silence, they urged their mounts into a steady gallop. But once they got into the open plain, they slowed the horses down so they didn't overwork them.
"You know, It was before my time, but my mother used to tell me stories of how her tribe moved with the bison."
"Really?"
"They lived almost as one," Charles explained. "Where the bison went, my people went - they couldn't survive without them. Bison provided everything: food, furs, shelter, tools. There was a lot of respect."
"Well, I don't know much about my ancestors," Ethan pointed out. "But I'm sure what drove them must have been the whiskey."
Charles snickered. "Yeah, my father did that too."
As they moved deeper into the plains, the afternoon sun began to warm the road, and small animals scampered back and forth. That's when they spotted them grazing in the rolling hills.
"Over there," Charles pointed. "You see 'em?"
Ethan was amazed by the size of the creatures.
"Holy shit–" He watched in awe. "It's incredible."
Charles watched the herd for a few moments, then made an executive decision.
"Ol' Pearson'll be happy when we bring back one of these."
Ethan breathed a laugh. "You think one bullet will be enough to take one down?"
"If you aim for the head, maybe, if not try to kill it fast," Charles explained. "I'll ride ahead and wrangle them up, be ready."
Ethan watched Charles ride off toward the herd, and after a few moments, he followed. Charles and Taima circled around the herd, as Ethan searched for the right Bison. These creatures were gigantic and majestic, that it almost made Gray look miniature; they could easily be the size of a wagon and weigh just as much.
As Charles circled the herd, Ethan spotted a disoriented one near him. It looked a little old, perhaps tired. He knew that was the one. He readied his shot and fired at the creature's cranial region. Far from being enough, he fired at least three more times. That caused the creature to shake its head, and after that fourth, it fell to its death. The remaining bison bellowed, as they ran off to a safer destination. Ethan slid off Gray and walked over to the corpse.
"You did good!" Charles complimented.
"Thanks," Ethan replied, reloading his gun "Tough sons a bitches….at least Pearson'll be off our ass for a while."
Charles and Ethan began skinning the fallen bison; it would provide them with enough meat for a few months, and its hide for proper shelter. Charles hacked the horns off, something he could make a cup out of or arrow points, among the many uses.
"I'll take the pelt." Ethan called.
As soon as he loaded the pelt on the back of Gray, he turned to Charles. "What's wrong?"
"I think I saw some birds of prey over there." He pointed over the hill.
"What about 'em?"
"I just want to see what's attracting them."
After cleaning up their mess the best they could, Ethan and Charles mounted up. They traveled the short distance over some hills and rocky terrain, before they faced a grim new scenery.
"What the–"
"Bison," Charles growled. "Shot and left for dead!"
"Why would anyone do that?" Ethan wondered aloud.
"I don't know," Charles gritted his teeth. "I see tracks over here. Let's go."
"Alright, lead the way."
Charles mounted Taima and hurried across the plain, Ethan following close behind. Where he usually saw a certain calmness in Charles' eyes, he saw fury. Bison were a way of life for Native Americans and someone was deliberately taking that away from them.
"You sure it wasn't other animals?" Ethan called.
"No," Charles shook his head. "They've been shot."
Charles urged Taima into a steady canter, as Ethan tried to match Gray's speed. Wherever this road was going to take them, perhaps it would only further bathe these plains in blood. Charles pointed out another dead bison just over the hills. They redirected the horses and headed in that direction. Yet another precious life wasted, when it could've been put to good use. Ethan looked up and in the distance, he saw a small camp - billowing black smoke from a campfire.
"Up ahead. I see smoke."
Ethan and Charles urged the horses up the hill to the camp. Charles slid off Taima first and walked to the campfire, placing a hand on the soot and soil. He glanced over his shoulder.
"Still fresh, maybe this morning." He announced.
"Musta happened yesterday," Ethan observed. "So what's next?"
"They might still be close by. Let's look around and see if we spot anything."
Riding their horses to the top of the hill, they both had a better vantage point of the surrounding area. Ethan was surprised by how a beautiful place could harbor such death.
"Over there, look." Charles pointed.
He followed his finger and off in the distance there was black smoke rising up from behind some trees.
"Could be another camp."
"Yeah, let's go." Charles insisted.
As they traveled across the plains towards the second camp, Charles began spitting and sputtering, cursing whomever caused these atrocities.
"Bastards - just killing for fun."
Ethan heaved a sigh. "Maybe we can talk to them?"
"I don't kill for fun," Charles spat. "I kill when I need to."
Ethan knew that this would not be an easy feat. He knew this would be a fight and he was fully prepared to win.
"More dead bison, it's got to be them!" Charles shouted.
"Hey, wait!"
When they crested the last hill, Charles dismounted Taima and like an unstoppable force, charged the camp. Ethan dismounted Gray and all but ran across the muddy, grassy terrain.
"Did you fools shoot those bison?"
"What's your problem?" The bald man demanded.
He huffed. "I said, did you fools shoot those bison?"
The second hunter stood up and brushed off his pants. The other threw the handkerchief he was using to wipe his mouth, then reached for his rifle, now showing his contempt for the situation and the two men standing in front of him.
"Calm down, you black or red bastard, whatever the fuck you are!"
"Did you shoot them?!" Charles spat.
"Yeah, we did–" The hunter snickered. "We shoot them bison and we'll shoot you too if you don't get by."
"What business is it of yours anyhow?"
Ethan watched as Charles drew his sawed-off shotgun with a certain lethal force, and left a gaping hole in the bald man's chest. Ethan drew his revolver as Charles approached the dead man.
"It's that business of mine!"
"Good God, you're crazy!" The other shouted, seizing in terror. "Look, I've got a family. Please, don't shoot me–"
Charles took a menacing step forward.
"Hey stop–" Ethan placed a hand on his shoulder. "I've got it."
Charles looked to Ethan and then to the terrified hunter. And after a brief moment, he turned and walked back to the horses. He watched him walk away before turning back to the hunter. He grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and tossed him to the ground like a ragdoll. And without much hesitation, slammed the butt of his revolver into his face.
"What the hell are you doing!" The hunter shouted.
"Why're you shooting the Bison and leaving them to rot?" Ethan demanded.
"I don't know what you're talking about!"
"You're stupid!" Ethan spat.
Ironically enough, even though he was beating the daylights out of him, he was trying to save his life as well.
"Godammit - tell me the truth or I'll put a bullet in you!"
Ethan hoped the hunter would have some sense - at least the sense that God gave them.
"We did it to make it look like it was them Natives!" The hunter cried.
"Just kill him, Ethan." Charles encouraged.
"So a ruse to frame others?" Ethan questioned. "Goddamn it…"
"Please don't kill me! I'm beggin' you!"
Apparently the man was finally coming to his senses - the one that God gave him. Ethan dropped his collar and he fell to the ground. He didn't want to kill him or anyone. It just happened.
"Get out," Ethan ordered, wiping the blood from his gun. "If it's worth anything to you or your family, don't ever come back this way."
The man cried out as he scrambled to his feet. And once he was finally standing, he stumbled towards his horse, mounted it and then galloped away.
"Why'd you do that?"
"He wasn't a threat to us," Ethan explained. "Besides, letting him go will make his conspirators doubt whether this is a good idea or not."
Charles watched Ethan with anger coursing through his veins. Ethan turned to face Charles, confident in his decision.
"I've seen enough," Charles relented. "I'm gonna see if there's any more Bison."
"Be careful."
As Charles left, Ethan scavenged the camp for food, money, ammo, and when he was finally done, he mounted Gray and headed back to camp. He was worried about Charles and hoped he wouldn't make a foolish decision while he was alone, but based on what he'd seen, Charles could handle himself right nicely.
Sometime after noon, Ethan returned back to camp. He left Gray to graze with the other horses, while he took the Bison meat and pelt to Pearson's wagon.
"Ah, Mr. Morgan," Pearson greeted. "You don't waste any time."
"Oh, not at all–" Ethan replied, dropping the cargo on the table. "Can you do anything with this?"
"...Bison?"
"Yeah, Charles and I went hunting this morning. He'll probably have more when he comes back."
"Probably?"
Ethan waved his hand. "It's a long story."
Just then, Ethan heard the exasperated cries of Lenny, as he rode into camp. He was sweating profusely and looked a little pale. He didn't see Micah with him, but he didn't think the kid was brave enough to kill him.
"Dutch! Dutch!"
The man in question came out of the tent, followed by Miss O'Shea. The rest of the gang soon gathered around, Ethan included. The girls saw the commotion from the clothes line and hurried over.
"Son, what happened?"
"Dutch...they got Micah," Lenny panted, keeling over. "He was arrested for murder. He's in Strawberry and–"
"Breathe, son."
"They nearly lynched me," He shook his head. "They got Micah in the sheriff's office in Strawberry - there's talk of hangin' him."
"Don't worry we'll get him out of there." He assured.
"Really?" Ethan asked, surprised.
"Yes, really–" Dutch emphasized. "If your father was here I'd ask him to go, but since he and Hosea are still chasing bears…I'll send Javier and Bill. Why don't you take Lenny to town? Get him drunk, but please, no crazy business."
Ethan heaved a sigh. Even though hours ago he had been itching to go for a drink with Lenny and Charles, he wasn't so eager to go out now. If Micah was getting arrested, it was likely they were next. Although they were more inconspicuous than he was. In the midst of all the congestion in camp, he spotted Mary-Beth. She nodded her head, a small smile to follow. He wanted to stay behind and spend some time with her, but he was tasked with showing Lenny a good time in town and who was he to say no? Who knows, it might do them both some good.
What could go wrong?
