The group rode into town, John clutching Rosalie with an iron grip. If he squeezed any tighter, she might have popped, his fear of being on a horse preventing him from loosening his hold on her. All the bashfulness of being near a girl vanished when he was faced with the fear of being thrown off the galloping stallion.

Hosea and Dutch sent Arthur, Rosalie, and John to the store while they poked around, seeing if they could find any work or pick up on any leads. Rosalie suspected they were also going to discuss what they were to do with John. She didn't think they would send him away. It was obvious he needed their help, his malnourished and dingy appearance making her stomach churn. Rosalie had half the nerve to send John to a nearby inn for a bath, the grimy boy smelling as though he hadn't cleaned himself in weeks, which he probably hadn't.

Arthur hitched his horse near the general store and shot Rosalie a sideways glance to where she was perched on her saddle, John clinging to her from behind. "I'm gonna head to the gunsmith n' stock up on ammunition. You good to grab the rest of the supplies with…? Uh—?" he paused, realizing he hadn't caught the kid's name.

"John." Muttered the boy sourly, giving Arthur a not-so-nice look for his sideways expression.

"...with John." finished Arthur, now that he was supplied with the mangy boy's name. He quirked an eyebrow at the dirty boy for his attitude, and for the fact he still hadn't let go of Rosalie even though they were no longer moving, so he wasn't in danger of being bucked off.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Rosalie waved him off. She patted John's arm, signaling for him to let go. The boy didn't move though, his arms wrapped tightly around her center. Suppressing a chuckle, she simply blinked in surprise at the fact he was still holding onto her. "Uh… John, you have to let go now." She said, trying to conceal her amusement.

The boy made a noise of embarrassment and released her. "Ah–! Sorry! I knew that!"

Arthur snorted and walked away, shaking his head as he made his way in the direction of the gunsmith. He couldn't believe that Rosalie was doting on this kid. He didn't seem to have a clue about what was going on around him.

John hopped off the saddle with a bit of a struggle, but he landed in the dirt beside Blitz, looking around at the town. He fidgeted with the bottom half of his dirty shirt as Rosalie jumped down beside him. She turned to face Blitz, grabbing his reins to tie him up.

"Alright, why don't you head over to the general store n' see what they got? I'll meet you there in a minute. Don't cause any trouble." Rosalie tugged on the reins of the black stallion, hitching it to the post beside Arthur's horse.

John looked around through the dirty hair in his eyes, scanning the signs hanging over each building. "Uh… which one is that?" He asked, the embarrassment evident in his voice.

Rosalie paused and stopped tending to her horse, looking over her shoulder under the brim of her hat. Noting the tension in his shoulders and the way he ducked his head, she could tell he felt embarrassed. He continued to play with the bottom of his shirt as his eyes darted to and from each sign.

Rosalie considered her words carefully.

"John, do you know how to read?" she asked gently.

John's face twisted, turning red from the question. "No ma'am, I don't."

Rosalie finished tying up her horse, before coming over to John and patting him on the arm. "Don't worry about it. I'm finished, so I'll just walk you over."

John's cheeks flushed pink, but he nodded his head, thankful as Rosalie began walking up the steps of the store they were hitched outside of. His face turned an even darker shade of pink as it dawned on him that he had been standing in front of the correct store the entire time.

Rosalie didn't say anything about it though, John trailing after her into the general store.

The storekeeper was a man in his late twenties, looking at them skeptically over his glasses as they entered. He didn't seem to think much of her, but his gaze narrowed the moment he laid eyes on Jonh. She knew how he looked to the naked eye, especially because he was still dirty and wearing destroyed clothes, but they were gonna fix that.

"Good afternoon, sir," Rosalie said kindly, flashing the man a warm smile. The firm demeanor the shopkeeper held seemed to dwindle, thinking her harmless from her polite introduction.

"Good afternoon." He greeted back. "Can I help you with anythin'?"

An idea sparked in Rosalie's mind, and she had to resist the urge to giggle to herself at the thought of the plan unfolding.

So, she just sighed wistfully, the shopkeeper looking at her with interest. John just looked confused, but kept his mouth shut so he didn't screw anything up.

"Well… I'm jus' tryna find new clothes for my little brother here, ya' see." Rosalie said, putting on her best sad, but charming smile. She forced a southern accent to her tongue, the sweet drawl foreign, but making her sound innocent enough.

John looked at her oddly for the switch in her voice as well, but continued to keep his mouth shut.

She took the hat off her head, blonde curls bouncing around her thin, freckled face as she came up behind John and placed her hands on his shoulders, the hat held in between her fingers. "He got awfully dirty while playing outside and I ain't want my momma to see! She'll be so mad… I came here with the intention of gettin' a few things for her on our travels, but it turns out my brother went and ruined all his best clothes while we were on the way to visit our auntie!"

John craned his neck, giving her an incredulous look. She didn't acknowledge it though and carried on with her ploy, shaking her head and clicking her tongue. She let go of his shoulders and walked over to the man's counter, pulling out some cash from her pocket. She only grabbed about thirty dollars—which was definitely not all the money she had weighing down her pockets.

It didn't stop Rosalie from sighing wistfully and shaking her head, making herself look as pathetic as possible as she held the cash up for the man to see. "But my momma only gave me this much for some food! I ain't got enough to buy my brother any clothes…"

Rosalie sniffed and forced tears to her eyes. She covered the back of her eyes with her wrist, angling herself away from his stare over his spectacles. "And my daddy… oh he's so mean… I ain't wanna think about what he'll do to him when he finds out my brother went n' ruined all his good clothes."

John stared at Rosalie blankly. He was completely baffled by the act she was putting on, but he knew better than to question it or discredit her story. If anything… it would do him some good to play into it.

John began looking around, feigning nervousness, as though his mean father would come barreling through the door any minute. "I'm sorry, sis! I ain't know how I got so nasty, but it won't happen again! Messin' everything up… ruinin' all my good clothes…" He whimpered, putting a sad expression on his face.

The shopkeeper was beginning to get nervous, the two distraught kids in his store making him feel uneasy. "Hey now… there's no need for the sob fest goin' on in here…"

With her back still turned to the shopkeeper, she gave John a mischievous smirk. She approved of his acting, that was for certain. That didn't mean he wasn't taken aback by the sight of her switching from the sniffling, distraught girl she was playing for the shopkeeper a moment ago.

Playing it up even more, Rosalie allowed a few free tears to run down her cheeks as she faced the shopkeeper again.

"Please sir, is there anythin' you can do for us?" She asked in a desperate voice.

The shopkeeper looked down at the wad of cash in her hand. He sighed and scratched at the side of his face, gaze dragging between Rosalie and John. A moment passed, before the man tugged the glasses off his face and began cleaning them with a deep sigh. "Alright, I suppose I can just take the thirty and you can be off with what you need. Nothin' more than sixty-five, ya' here?"

Rosalie gasped, an ecstatic smile breaking across her face as she looked at the uncomfortable shopkeeper. "Thank you, sir! You–you are so jus' kind!"

She glanced back at John, nodding for him to also praise the man for his act of kindness. He was a bit slow on the uptick, staring at Rosalie blankly for a moment, before he let out a gasp and nodded his head.

"Thank you!" John continued to nod briskly. "Nicest feller I've ever met!"

The shopkeeper waved him off, taking the cash from Rosalie's palm. His face turned pink at the compliments. "Ain't a problem. Jus' take what you need and be on your way. Ain't want unhappy children running around here."

The shopkeeper turned his back to her to do something behind the counter, giving Rosalie the opportunity to give John another smirk. She grabbed a few bags off the counter and handed them to John. "You heard the gentleman. Get yourself some clothes to replace the ones you lost. A few outfits."

John looked at the linen bag Rosalie handed him in shock, his mouth agape and eyes glazed over. He couldn't believe that he was getting new clothes, never mind multiple outfits. Did she really mean it?

But before he could question her, she already was on the other side of the general store picking up different canned goods and produce. So, with nothing left to do but listen, John began looking through the button-downs and jeans they had out in his size.

Rosalie placed the goods they needed into the bag, making sure to grab enough cigarettes for her and Arthur, and enough alcohol for Hosea and Dutch. There were plenty of canned goods and strips of dried beef in her bag now, but she couldn't help but reach for a new bar of soap with the intention of making John bathe the moment they came near a lake or river.

Rosalie couldn't really explain why she was doting on this kid. Maybe it was because she felt bad for him, being so mangey and malnourished. When she looked at him, all she could see was that poor thing standing atop a box to be hung just because he decided to steal from the wrong people. It upset her to her core to witness a child almost being hung. She didn't know how old John was exactly, but he couldn't have been older than thirteen.

The entire thing just made her feel awful. She knew John wasn't the only child, let alone the only person to live on the street with little to fill their bellies, but if she could help at least one of them, then she would feel satisfied. Rosalie already had many nightmares to keep her awake at night. The last thing she needed was to see John's petrified, thin body hanging from a tree in her sleeping hours as well.

After tossing the soap into her bag, she eyed the small selection of literature and writing utensils.

Rosalie cast a glance behind her to John, who was holding up a dark red button down to himself to see if it fit properly. He wrinkled his nose once he noticed it was too long and put it back, reaching for another shirt. She slowly dragged her gaze from him, and back to the books and stationary.

She swiftly reached for books and paper and tossed them into her bag.

After Rosalie gathered what she needed, she came over to John to see he had picked out a few shirts and a couple of pairs of jeans, along with some sturdy brown boots.

She smiled down at him, her bags in hand. "Picked out some things you like?"

John stared at the clothes in his hand with a far-off expression. He didn't seem to hear her at first, his eyes unfocused and glossy as he ran his thumbs over the cotton. Rosalie didn't bother repeating herself, the same feeling of warmth and satisfaction from earlier returning as she watched him.

She had done the right thing by saving John, that much was certain as she looked at him gazing upon his clothes like he was the wealthiest man alive, his eyes watery.

Rosalie placed a hand on his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. He slowly looked up at her from the bundle of clothes, blinking away his tears. She didn't comment on his watery eyes, only giving him another smile and tilting her head in the direction of the door.

"You ready to head out? I'm kind of hungry. Could use some lunch." Rosalie offered, and the thought of food brought John's stomach to growl. She laughed, his face flushing.

Their grocery bags resting on the ground beside them, Arthur had joined them for lunch at the local saloon. Rosalie and Arthur ate from their hot plates of food at a leisurely pace as they engaged in idle conversation. Meanwhile, John was devouring every piece of chicken and vegetable on his plate as if someone might snatch it away at any moment. He was practically licking the plate clean, dragging his thumb across the surface, and gathering every last bit onto the pad of his finger before popping it into his mouth, savoring every bite.

John leaned back with a deep, satisfied sigh when he was finished. He placed his hands on his stomach and let out a quiet belch, interrupting the conversation. Arthur slowly looked between his half-finished meal, and then to the large amount of food residing on Rosalie's plate, before dragging it to the bare porcelain in front of John.

Rosalie gave him an amused look, before she reached into her pocket and fished out a couple of extra dollars. She handed it to John. "If you want seconds, go ahead."

John lit up. "Really?!"

Rosalie didn't repeat herself, raising a brow and inching her hand with the money closer. With a bright grin, he took the cash and ran up to the bartender to order himself another plate.

John left them alone, allowing the opportunity for Arthur to give Rosalie a sideways look, before shaking his head and pushing the potatoes around on his plate with his fork. "Why you dotin' on that kid so much? He ain't a pet." His voice was tinged with disapproval.

Rosalie gave Arthur an unamused look. "I just feel bad for him. I'm not treating him like a pet anyway. He's a boy who has nowhere to go… just thought maybe I could do right by him. I know my daddy and uncle would have, so I wanna do the same is all."

At the mention of her father and uncle, Arthur couldn't help but stiffen. While no one mentioned it, he could hear Rosalie's cries in the night when she woke from her nightmares. Dutch and Hosea never asked Arthur about it, but he knew they could hear her too. He never knew what to say to her about them, the subject far too personal for him to infringe on. But for Rosalie to mention them at all… it was a big deal. Not something to be overlooked.

"Agh, I get it, it's just gonna be annoyin' havin' another mouth to feed," Arthur mumbled, watching as the kid eagerly waited at the bar for the tender to dish him another plate. "Can't say my situation was any different though. Dutch and Hosea picked me off the street when I was only a couple years older than him."

He turned his attention back to Rosalie, ignoring the sympathetic look she was giving him. "You ain't gotta worry about them not keepin' the kid though. I know that look Dutch was wearin' when he saw him. Same one he had when he found me, and the same one he had when he brought you back to camp."

Rosalie felt pleased by the reassurance that Dutch didn't have the intention of kicking John to the curb. She really liked him, and she would hate herself for it. Bringing him to the store, buying him clothes and a hot meal only to abandon him… she would die of a broken heart if she did that. The guilt would eat her alive.

Conning people and all that was a nasty business of trickery, so Rosalie didn't preach that she was a saint, but she didn't know if she had it in her to abandon John.

Food in hand, John brought the steaming plate back over and plopped back down at the table. He didn't say a word to either Arthur or Rosalie as he picked up his fork and began shoveling the food into his mouth. The two young adults shared an incredulous look as John barely took a moment to breathe between bites of potatoes.

"I see you got the boy fed!" Laughed Hosea, coming over to the table with Dutch by his side. Whatever business they were attending to finished up just around the time of their lunch.

The two men took a seat at the table. John slowed his eating, flushing in embarrassment at Hosea's commentary. Hosea seemed to pick up on this as he only waved his hand as though it was no big deal.

"Don't think nothin' of my comment, boy. Arthur here ate about four plates the first time we fed him a hot meal from a saloon. Ate like a big fat man." He grinned and clapped Arthur on the back. Dutch let out a chuckle of his own.

Arthur didn't look as amused, fork in hand and a bit of sauce on his chin as he gave Hosea an unimpressed look. Rosalie couldn't help but laugh at his dismay, and the thought of a teenage Arthur gorging himself on food in front of a baffled Hosea and Dutch.

"What's your name, son?" Asked Hosea, turning his attention back to the young, dirty boy who had tried to slow his eating now that it was pointed out.

"John." He replied through a mouthful of chicken. "Marston."

"Well, John, how old are ya'?" Hosea leaned forward with his elbow on the table, chin propped up in his hand.

"Mmm t'welve," he mumbled around a mouthful of vegetables this time, his words slightly obscured by the food.

"Wow, he's younger than when we picked you up, Arthur!" Dutch commented, giving the man a slight shove.

Arthur shrugged Dutch off and continued eating, seeming to have nothing to say in response to this. He wiped the sauce from his face with his fingers, sticking them in his mouth just as John had done a moment before.

Rosalie couldn't help but snicker at this, looking between Arthur and John, Arthur raising a brow at her laughter.

It seemed all boys had something in common; eating like a big fat man.

"So, we heard about this place being a popular rest point for wealthy travelers on business." began Dutch. "There's an oil rig near here, and the owners' business partners travel through here often. So… I propose we rob em'. Give us some extra cash to get us to Chicago n' deliver those papers, and then we head to wherever Mr. Reginald Harrington points us to find Cormac O'Driscoll."

Reginald Harrington was a man known for his financial work, investment, and offering loans for many different industries. Even ranchers near Farmington, Iowa, where they had been camping previously, sought his financial aid. Unable to leave their land, the ranchers entrusted the Dutch and Hosea once they heard they were looking for work to deliver the crucial documents concerning their loan repayment and request for further funds.

Loaning was a dirty business in Rosalie's opinion, but if Harrington pointed them in Cormac O'Driscoll's direction, she wouldn't complain.

"We plannin' on robbin' Harrington too?" Asked Arthur.

Dutch sighed and leaned back with a shrug, seeming to not care very much about the question. "Not too sure yet. Depends on what his business looks like, how well-guarded his cash is… I can imagine a man of that caliber has well-trained security."

"It wouldn't be the first time we robbed someone with that much wealth before, though," grinned Hosea. "I think it would be manageable. But we don't wanna be over presumptuous."

John seemed confused, his brow furrowed as he chewed on a mouthful of food. "Y'all talkin' about robbin' people? Are ya… outlaws?"

Dutch grinned at him. "Would there be a problem if that were the case, son?"

John shook his head wildly. "No, sir! Ain't a problem! My pa' wasn't exactly a good man, and I ain't either…"

"Are ya' good at robbin' and stealin', John?" Hosea asked, a mischievous glint in his eye as he looked at the boy.

"Obviously not." Muttered John as he scowled at his empty plate. "That's why I almost got strung up by them farmers."

Dutch and Hosea shared a look of amusement, before turning their attention back to the dirty kid at their table. Rosalie smothered a chuckle and Arthur only smirked.

"Don't you worry, it's something we can teach ya, if you're willing." Hosea offered.

John's eyes lit up as though he had been given the opportunity of a lifetime. "Oh, I can learn! I can! I ain't been caught before, them damn farmers the first to. Made me look like a fool, stringin' me up like that, but I'll make myself useful." John said, determination in his words as he stood up straighter, fork clenched in his fist.

Dutch nodded his head firmly, a smile tugging at his lips. "That settles it then. Our first lesson will be tomorrow when we'll catch them wealthy travelers off guard. Heard the inn is expecting them in the early afternoon. Any ideas?"

The saloon they ate in was loud, with music playing from the piano in the corner and drunkards throwing themselves around with their buddies, laughing wildly. There was no chance of anyone hearing their conversation, so discussing their plans in public wasn't a problem.

"I say we just run up n' demand they give us their cash or we shoot em'." Arthur shrugged.

Hosea gave him a deadpan expression. "Glad the old brute as a plan. Does anyone else have any bright ideas?" He offered, looking around at the group.

Arthur pressed his lips into a firm line, unamused at how Hosea had shot him down without any hesitation. He ducked his head, pouting. Dutch patted him on the shoulder sympathetically.

Rosalie pursed her lips, eyes lingering on the linen bags at her feet. "What if… I act like I'm in trouble. Throw myself in front of their wagon, tears running down my face and sobbing. I make them feel real sorry for me, while you guys knock them out and steal what they have? I guess it depends on how they respond, but if they all get off the carriage to check on me, you can just steal all their stuff and make off with it and they're none the wiser."

A silence lingered in the group as they considered her plan. Dutch rubbed the bottom half of his face in thought, whereas Hosea looked like he had just been offered a million dollars.

The eagerness was practically radiating off of Hosea. He grinned at Rosalie and grabbed her shoulder, squeezing it with a little shake. "That is mighty brilliant! I guess you are the daughter of a con man, hm? I shouldn't expect anything less."

Rosalie returned his bright grin, thrilled at the thought of putting on a little show. She hadn't dressed up and played the innocent little girl in a couple of weeks, but it was always thrilling, even if she felt odd sliding into a dress and pinning up her curls.

Dutch chuckled. "You do always look for an opportunity to play dress up and put on a show, Hosea."

Arthur raised an eyebrow at her. "You good enough to act? I ain't sure you can pull off the sweet n' innocent type." He commented, the disbelief evident in his voice.

Rosalie smirked at him and crossed her arms over her chest. "Are you doubting me, Mister Morgan?"

John leaned in, eager to be part of the conversation. "Nah, she's crazy! I ain't seen anythin' like it, the way she played the store owner like a fiddle. She put on an accent n' everythin' too! Talkin' all sweet."

He grabbed a couple of the bags off the ground and held them up for the group to see. "We got all this n' more for jus' thirty dollars! She made up some sob story that I was her brother n' was cryin' her eyes out. The feller felt so bad he told her she could just take what she wanted as long as she ain't go over sixty-five dollars! I ain't seen nothin' like it!" He cried, the excitement running through him as he relived the scheme they put on in the general store.

Dutch let out a whistle, his eyes trailing from the bags John was holding up to the rest of the goods that sat on the floor. "Well, I must say, I think we've been wastin' your talents, Miss Rosalie."

Rosalie met Arthur's stunned gaze from across the table, her arms still crossed. "Do you think I'm capable of playing the sweet and innocent now? You don't have to make off with good loot by just smacking people around."

Arthur scoffed and shrugged, arms crossed tightly across his chest. "Alright, then I guess we'll see how everything goes tomorrow." He suggested, his voice tilting in a challenge.

Rosalie grinned and reached for her glass of water, holding it before her lips. "I think you forget, Mister Morgan, that I may not be a good shot, or be good at fightin' off O'Driscolls, but I can put on a good act. Like my daddy used to say, appearances fool people easily. You make yourself look a certain way and almost anything is believable." She raised the glass to her mouth and drank from it, meeting his gaze from across the table with raised brows.

Arthur shook his head with a breathy laugh, looking off to the side. "Alright, whatever you say." He gave a small shrug, still shaking his head.

Rosalie placed the glass down on the table and leaned back, confidence surging through her.

She would make sure the job got done right—all those years of conning and thieving weren't for nothing.