Chapter 12

The horses trotted forward back to camp.

The moment Dutch got off of the Count, allowing Charles to lead the horse inside of the stables, the leader stormed inside of the cabin and slammed the door shut. It was no big loss, at least not outside with a surface level point of view.

Arthur watched this display with some form of mild disappointment.

He wasn't alone.

Hosea's aged face stared at the man, the one who was supposed to be his successor, with a similar expression.

"I take it the robbery didn't go as plan," Hosea said when Arthur disembarked.

"O'Driscolls got to the train first," he explained, "burnt the train to hell, killed all of them." His tone became solemn at this 'cause he wished he could have saved those folks.

He'd doomed those poor folks to their faiths. Now, someone would have to explain why a family member wouldn't be coming home to either children or parents. They would be lost, parents having to bury children, other orphans forced to suffer 'cause of barbarians like them who didn't think 'bout the torment that they've caused others.

"In some ways, this is a miracle," Hosea spoke, resigned, surprising Arthur. "When Cornwall investigates who robbed his train, I imagine a bunch of dead O'Driscolls wouldn't go unnoticed."

"Still doesn't make it right," he replied, looking down.

Hosea gripped his shoulder in company and support. A grounding that Arthur didn't realized he needed. "Don't blame yourself, son, you can't. It isn't your fault."

Still, he felt the urge to argue. Those folks back at those innocent men and women's homes wouldn't think so. They were all the same, no matter of the gang. "But I-"

Hosea's lips scrunched up, and his expression became more parental. "I will say it again, Arthur. It. Isn't. Your. Fault. You cannot control everything."

Hosea didn't know how much those words hit close to home. Even after everything that happened, a small part of the former sick gunslinger wished Dutch was here, offering this now. That same part of him felt like a failure for not being good enough for Dutch, that indoctrination that went away forever, but it still insulted his heart to see Dutch upset.

For Hosea to be here, the wise father figure in the place of Dutch's absence, like he always was, it hurt more than it should have. He knew on that mountain, back in Beaver Hollow, how far Dutch was willing to go.

Arthur still managed a soft smile, even after his touch left his shoulder, and Hosea walked to the form of the cabin Dutch was in, the door closing. Another argument awaited no doubt. Or maybe this would be one of those moments.

He sighed as he walked to the woman's cabin. He figured it was time to check on both Sadie and Kieran. He'd hoped slapping Kieran under the responsibility of the women wouldn't be too much of a handful. The boy'd been able to fit in just fine last time and didn't ran off no matter how they were mistreated.

When he walked inside, he noticed Kieran sitting next to Mary-Beth, reading a book, and the two broke out in laughter, their smiles remaining directed at one another.

The familiar feeling of envy jolted through Arthur at that moment. But not for the reason one would have thought. He didn't envy the relationship between the two, or at least the relationship that would happen one day. With his time traveling to the past, Mary Linton most certainly was on his mind. His heart clenched as he'd wished, even now, to run off, to take the chance Marston was given, and live a normal life with the woman who he'd loved and had been forced to leave behind 'cause she rightfully couldn't understand.

What did it matter if the gang collapsed? Sooner or later, everyone here would have to deal with the fallout. Arthur wasn't a Saint. He was still a man with his own wants. One of them included just leaving Dutch behind, let him burnt the camp to the ground, and hope that Marston would be able to get his head out of his ass on his own. Why did it have to be Arthur who had to deal with it?

Rationality came back with the force of rotten soup. It was not his desire for Mary Linton that drove him, for temptations of the flesh were extremely foreign to him as he didn't desire sexual acts with women-not like Micah who was a dirty dog. No, it was an emotional desire, to reconnect with the woman who he'd shared romantic feelings for. Arthur had a streak of altruism, and he was desperate not to make the world any worse than he already had. He didn't care 'bout redemption, that implied some concern for the self. He didn't care anymore what happened to him, he just wanted to make sure the people he cared for and even the people he had unjustly wronged were alright before he had to go.

Mary Linton was a good person. She had a fucked up family and no one who cared 'bout her but Arthur so she kept writing him when she hit a low point. She did love him, she just couldn't join his world any more than he could join hers. Neither one was wrong in that, Mary more so. They shared a mostly a self-depreciating sense of humor. Whether they realize it or not, the rest of the gang told Arthur she was no good for him b'ause she was the one thing that could get him to give up the life. But she didn't deserve that burden. Arthur now knew what this life led to, and he had far too many issues for a traumatized woman like her.

Those thoughts were all that kept him sane now.

Looking at her, at Mary's eyes and soft face-reminded of his own, and Kieran's too. It caused a great throb in his aching heart, but he kept his emotions in check. She reminded him of Mary Linton. Kieran had a good head on his shoulders-no pun intended. The man stayed after everything, after Arthur mistreated him. In another life, Mary-Beth was the only one who understood him, who sat at his grave and mourned for a life they could have shared, who tried to give Kieran a chance when no one else had. It was reciprocated 'cause Kieran never knew a simple kindness, just harsh treatments and misplaced loyalty that got him tormented for hours and killed.

Arthur decided right then and there. Amidst the turmoil of his emotions, he swore he would not approach Mary Linton as he wanted to do this time around. The wants to run off with Mary, was high, but there were too many issues. Arthur could not act freely, without limitation, if he pursued her as he so desperately craved. The Mary for her part, he would help, but he wouldn't approach in the ways he'd wanted.

He realized with a pain in his chest that he couldn't relate to Mary Linton. That was the harsh reality. Arthur couldn't provide her with stability simply 'cause too many things happened, even without the gang being involved. She'd be worried out of her mind with or without children thinking 'bout where her husband would be, and then they might have to keep moving all the time. It was not a life Arthur even wanted for Jack. Both Arthur and Mary made the right decision by not indulging in the relationship further, which is the sad point.

When Arthur opened his eyes, he sought her face, finding it disappearing and melting back into Mary-Beth, a girl who was like a little sister, still light with amusement as she laughed at a joke Kieran made. Those two love couldn't be even more painfully obvious. The truth was that Arthur wasn't her Mary, not any longer. He was different, have changed from the person he was. He was a scarred man, but he was a scarred man that would do right by the collapsing of everything he'd loved.

He would have to save those who he could and cut his losses quickly.

Would have to probably put a bullet through Dutch at the end.

Mary Linton didn't deserve to be in the fallout of all of that. In his current conflict.

He had no choice. It was just how things were supposed to be. Life would continue going on, no matter of the agony in his heart.

He turned to the oldest woman of them all. His next concern would have to be addressed.

"Ms. Grimshaw," he called, causing her to look up at his direction, bemusement flashed across her face. He was reminded of something. "I heard Micah and Jenny had gotten to know each other a little too well. I don't know if it was consensual, but I don't want any of these girls harmed. If that bastard even looks at one of them flirtatiously, I don't give a damn if Dutch demands he remains unharmed, I won't be in control of my actions. And I expect you to keep me informed."

The older woman looked at him for a long moment. Arthur's eyes suggested full seriousness and sincerity. None of the girls would be harmed. He was already planning to find them a ranch of some sort. This gang didn't deserve any of them. Right now, there needed to be more protection for the girls. And he knew if Ms. Grimshaw didn't take his warning seriously, he would not hesitate to call her out either. He was not playing any games with the safety of every camp member who could be saved.

She shared his sentimentality. "You'd bet, Mr. Morgan, I would keep an eye out."

Good. Ms. Grimshaw was many things, but she cared 'bout those girls and wanted the best for them and tried to get a bit closer. She would shoot Micah's balls off if he'd nearly approached any of them. It wasn't that Arthur was above them getting into relationships as much as he would have to meet the men before giving his approval, but anyone beyond Micah. That goddamn asshole wouldn't get his hands on any of them.

Arthur moved over to Kieran. "Hey, Kieran, how's things?"

He smiled up at Arthur. "I'm fine, sir, I hope you don't min-" He tilted his head slightly to the flushing Mary-Beth.

He glared at him for a long moment. "I ain't said you can't become friends with her, boy, but if you hurt her, you have to go through me, understood?"

Kieran swallowed, looking incredibly nervous at the "fake" glare poised at him by Arthur.

Mary-Beth snapped out of it and looked like a flustered child in front of her older brother who'd just introduced her boyfriend to the family. "Mr. Morgan, I-"

"I have to make sure you're protected, little Mary, you're all important to me." He knew that was incredibly sentimental for him, but it was truthful. Kieran was a good kid, but he was extremely protective over the women. Even more so-after what happened to Karen and Molly and how the former drunk herself into a depression and how the latter was too loyal to Dutch and got shot.

He wanted to save her as well, though he didn't know if it was possible. Not everyone would be saved. The eventual deaths of Sean and Molly were too much for poor Karen to take. A woman who was so vocal not stopping to drink once in Beaver Hollow as the stagnation of the gang without any comfort or support getting to her. If Molly did indeed die, Karen didn't deserve to suffer as she did the last time. Maybe, if he saved Sean...

He smiled now, "However I doubt that would be a problem as long as you keep this attitude up." Ain't want to treat the boy too harshly after all...

Choosing to leave them be, Arthur continued walking through the cabin, 'till he found Sadie. His eyes landed on the recently widowed Sadie for half of a moment whose head was extended downwards, her hands fidgeting slightly. She brightened up slightly at seeing him and invited him over. Arthur took the invitation and sat down next to her.

Really, around him, she seemed to be happier than she was last time when Arthur only glanced at her direction and said a few words of condolences. In some ways, she'd helped with his emotional situation already.

Arthur placed a hand on his chin thoughtfully.

"You seem upset," she commented.

"Not upset, thinking-" he told her sincerely, "-the train we'd planned robbery failed."

Sadie grimaced. "Sorry 'bout that."

"How it's feeling today?" he queried.

"Horrible," she replied.

He snorted slightly in amusement. "Fair."

"B-Blackwater," she said, taking the wind out of them.

"Huh?" That caught his attention.

"I heard 'bout this guy name Mac, another guy name Davey, and a woman name Jenny. People are worried 'bout you. They say you're not acting like yourself. Do you want to talk 'bout it?" Sadie inquired.

Truthfully, he was stunned by this. He hadn't thought 'bout Mac, Davey, and Jenny's deaths for a long time. Tragic as they were, Arthur came to accept them being gone. Sean, Lenny, and Hosea's deaths were far more impactful 'cause they were more recent. Dutch walking away and leaving him to die on that mountain hurt far more deeply 'cause that was when he realized how irrelevant they were all for the man.

The death of the gang shattered everything Arthur believed.

The fact that it was unavoidable drove an even deeper dagger in his wounded heart.

He forced himself to smile as he looked at the woman and responded, "It's still all in my head 'bout how everything could have gone so wrong, but don't worry, Mrs. Adler, I'm fine."

"You're lying," she observed with a frown.

Arthur fought a groan. Women in his life had a tendency to be difficult and not take no for answer.

He didn't get a chance to respond when Mrs. Adler glared at him.

"I know when men are lying, Mr. Morgan," she responded, her jaw set firmly as she eyed him with that glint that women tended to make men's speechless. "I have been married to Jake for almost three years and he'd learnt that the hard way."

He chuckled. "You're a feisty one, Mrs. Adler."

"Don't change the subject," she said flatly. "Your gang saved my life. You saved my life. And I owe it to them to try and help you with your current... issue."

He blinked. "Issue?"

"You're moving around a lot, some say. Stressing out way too much. You even missed a few meals, I heard. Dinner, typically."

He looked abashed. Folks were complaining 'bout him overworking? Why? He was the older brother of the Van Der Linde gang! What did they think he was supposed to do?! They were leaving in a few days anyway, 'less the botched train robbery changed that. "I have important things to do."

"You do," she said simply, "But at the cost of everything else. You have done nothing but eat, sleep, and help for weeks now. While not uncommon for your gang, the old man told me most at least take the weekends to themselves or relax when they don't have nothing to do."

Arthur actually scowled. "I have to do other things! Why do you even care?"

"For one, you are a man, Arthur, men have limitations and can get tired like all people do. You gotta stop stressing sometimes. You have been going around the camp and doing stuff nonstop. Even the women take a break."

His scowl turned upwards. "I don't care. I have important things to do! When we're all safe and sound, I'll take a break."

She stared at him in disbelief. "You cannot be serious."

He glared full force at her. "I am serious, deadly serious."

"Arthur, what makes you think you ain't liable for taking a break once and a while?"

Arthur scoffed. "I'm a third-in-command of the gang, if I must die for it to live, then I will do so willingly." Not exactly but have to give that image a way.

"You haven't answered my question."

"I just did."

"No, you didn't."

He was flustered. "I have a responsibility to do things for the gang."

"Not nonstop," she replied, incapable of keeping the edge to her vice. "You are not a weapon nor a tool to be thrown away at a moment's notice. You are still a human being with restrictions."

"A future doesn't matter when everyone's dropping dead."

"And that's an excuse to not consider the worth of your own life?" she shot back, equally exasperated, "you are not invincible, Mr. Morgan, you gotta calm it down and not worry so much 'bout things. The gang ain't going to collapse 'cause you took a break from tending to the horses for one day."

"Then what do you suggest I do?" He inquired.

"Wait," she said simply, "Be patient, and calm down. You have done all you could for the gang, all you could for me, you're not a God. You deserve to sit it off."

"I do so when it snows."

She scoffed, "Blizzard aside, have you even had time to do stuff outside of night?"

Arthur looked... sheepish, averting his eyes. "Erm..."

She stared pointedly. "I thought so. Go tell Hosea and Dutch you're going to take the next few days off and relax. I think they'll agree."

Yeah, they would, that was the problem!

"Is that an order?" he asked gruffly.

She wasn't going to let him go that easily. "If I have to make it one, then I will. If you ain't gonna tell 'em, I will, and don't you think I won't. Go now."

So much for her being softer before she became a gunslinger.