"Dutch and Bill already left," Arthur explained. "They're waiting for me at the Sheriff's office."

Ethan's brow furrowed. "Why are you guys budding up with the Sheriff if we're still wanted?"

"It's all a part of the plan," He waved his hand. "It's quite an elaborate plan–"

Ethan wondered what the new plan could be? It's not like this constitutes laying low or staying out of trouble or staying away from the law. It was the exact opposite of the original plan. His train of thought was disrupted when Arthur coughed.

"You okay?" Ethan asked.

"Oh yeah…got a little tickle. I'm good–" He replied, clearing his throat.

Feeling that nothing was out of the ordinary, he bid farewell to his son, then left down the dirt path.

Ethan watched his father leave, a heavy feeling in his chest. He remembered the few times his father got sick, and the times he pretended not to be sick. His coughing never sounded like that. He hoped it wasn't anything too serious, like influenza - that puts a hurtin' on a man.

Ethan turned to one of the wagons and there, sitting on some crates, was Sadie was polishing her revolver. There was a stark contrast between her and the other women; she was a trouser and hat wearing gunslinger, who's bark and bite was more lethal than the men.

"Sadie." Ethan greeted.

She looked up. "Oh, hey Ethan."

"I know there's no chance of changing your mind," Ethan began. "I've given up the hope of making you see that it's not a good idea for you to be an outlaw."

"Good for you. It takes a big man to admit when he's wrong."

Ethan heaved a sigh, as he reached into the wagon, pulling out his carbine repeater. He walked around and stopped just in front of Sadie; the carbine repeater outstretched from the barrel.

"What–" Her brow furrowed. "For me? Why?"

"You'll need a rifle….if you wanna continue down this road."

"Well uh–" She cleared her throat. "Thanks a lot, I really appreciate it. My Jakey had one just like this years ago. I still remember when he gave it to me to shoot–"

"So you know how to use it, then? That's great," Ethan nodded. "I'm glad he taught you some things."

Sadie smiled and Ethan could tell it was genuine. And it might've even been the first time she's smiled since her husband was killed.

"How are you and Mary-Beth?" She asked.

"Uh….we're good, I think."

"You think?"

Ethan blushed. "I didn't wanna be too presumptuous."

"Well, she seems happy."

"Really?" Ethan smirked. "Well, then I guess I can say things are going good…but, if you have any advice–"

Sadie shook her head with a chuckle.

"I mean, you were married. So I'm sure you know things–"

"Yeah, I know things–" She sat back, resting her gun in her lap. "All I can say is to always be honest with her, love her, and always treat her as an equal."

"Thank you."

"You're doing good, trust me–" Sadie assured." Just between us, we women can be like a den of vipers…but we ain't all that bad, just stay on our good side."

"Oh, is that really the case?"

"Sometimes," She shrugged. "Many of us women are alone with our thoughts, struggling with boredom or stuck in a wagon following behind the men."

He snickered. "I guess that's why you prefer guns and trousers, huh?"

"Now you're gettin' it."

It wasn't all fun and laughter though. Across camp, Karen moved to the firepit, where Micah sat with a newspaper he bought in town the day before.

"Mr. Bell." Karen greeted.

"You can call me Micah." He reminded.

"I won't if you don't mind."

He tsked. "And why not?"

"Might give people the wrong idea."

"And what would that be?"

"That I like you."

Micah would not be insulted, at least not laying down. And with a laugh, he put the newspaper down beside him and leaned forward.

"For you to like anyone, you'd have to take your lips off that bottle first–" He barked a laugh. "Everyone knows you like the bottle."

"They do?"

"Oh yeah, some folk are concerned about you, but as for me," Micah snorted. "You're past givin' a shit about."

He turned and walked away, leaving Karen behind with a snarl on her face. And when Micah was out of view, she took a seat and resumed her breakfast, though all enthusiasm for the cooked oats were nothing but a memory.

"Jackass." Sadie mumbled under her breath.

And a jackass he was. He was never to be trusted; snakes usually weren't to be trusted, and it was proven time and time again. The shootout in Strawberry, and the mess up North just to name a few. He was a calamity, but he also had answers.

"Where you going?" Sadie asked.

Ethan ignored Sadie as he marched over to Micah, who stood against a tree on the outskirts of camp, enjoying a cigarette.

"Aye!" Ethan called out.

Micah glanced over his shoulder. "Ah, little Morgan. What do you want?"

Ethan clenched his jaw; the only thing stopping him from throwing hands. He gripped his belt for good measure.

"Let me ask you a question, just what…exactly went on in Blackwater?"

"Why you askin' boy?" Micah wondered aloud. "Did daddy send you?"

"No. This ain't on him, Micah, this is me."

Micah waved his hand. "We got jumped, what do you think happened?"

"Weren't you the one that said the job would be easy?"

"Watch your tongue," Micah warned. "I don't answer to nobody, especially you."

"We're running for our lives because of a bad call you made!" He pointed out.

Micah guffawed. "Don't think your daddy mentioned it, but uh…we're outlaws; we rob banks and coaches. Way I see it, it's an occupational hazard."

"Listen to me," Ethan warned. "We lost important people, important to me. Jenny, Mac, Davey–"

"Well, I'm real sorry you lost those people," Micah all but rolled his eyes. "But dyin', well, that's part of the game. Now go on, I'm done arguing."

Micah stormed off in the opposite direction, leaving Ethan behind; fuming. He always had the profound luxury of pissing him off, when he could just be a decent human being for once, but he wasn't sure he had it in him. After giving himself a few minutes to calm down, Ethan returned to camp.

Nothing looked any worse for the wear, but Karen was missing. And it was clear that Micah's verbal abuse sent her straight to the bottle…again. Ethan set about doing some chores to avoid anything foolish, and Miss Grimshaw's wrath. Lord knows one brush a day with death was enough. After stacking the wagons for Pearson, he came across Javier sitting at the table under the shade of a tree. He looked like he was ready for a fight, but the question was…what fight?

"Hey–" Ethan greeted.

"Oh, hey Ethan," Javier nodded. "I heard about this house and…it could be interesting."

"What kind of a house?"

"I don't know, I heard a couple of guys in town...they said…well, they said it's kinda freakish."

"Freakish?"

"Some family; local bogeymen, I guess," Javier shrugged. "They're crooked in every way."

"So?" Ethan waved his hand.

"So, these guys thought they were sitting on a lot of cash. They're highway robbers, kidnappers, apparently. They are well hidden in the woods."

He smoothed out a map and pointed to the possible location. A ranch called Chez Porter, just a few miles north of Valentine.

"Hm, sounds suspicious if you ask me."

"Of course, it's suspicious, but there ain't much risk of getting caught." Javier assured.

Ethan hesitated for a moment. The situation was precarious, and this proposition could really be anything under the sun. It could be good, and it could be a real disaster. And if the people in the woods were what Javier said they were, they could serve society well if they got rid of them.

"Okay then, I follow you. Let's go and take a look..."

"Exactly–" Javier exclaimed. "So let's just go take a look."

By mid morning, the pair left camp; their destination set. They made sure to give Valentine a wide berth as they headed north to Cumberland Falls. The area was one that Ethan was familiar with considering he did bounty work not long ago, something he had mentioned to Javier on the way.

Leaving Clemens Point behind, especially with the false security that the small town of Rhodes provided, was a little nerve-wracking. As the two of them skirted around Valentine, the feeling that the law would appear grew and grew. It wasn't until they neared the mountains that Ethan was able to relax.

Now in the hills, away from Valentine and Rhodes, the two degenerates walked the trails that were ensconced with lush greenery. And after crossing a small wooden bridge, Javier slowed Boaz and looked around.

"Are we close?" Ethan asked.

"Yeah, we're pretty close now. Let's go on foot from here."

"You say they're pretty deep from here?" Ethan asked as he set his horse's reins down on some branches.

"If I'm not wrong, it's just over this way."

Ethan and Javier walked through some dead trees and dry brush, something he might have taken as an omen of how things would turn out.

"There's a place up ahead where we should be able to get a good look at the place," Javier explained. "I wanna make sure we don't run into any surprises."

"Fine by me."

"Apparently, this family's been isolated for so long they've started talking in their own weird dialect."

"I reckon they don't like people much?"

Javier shook his head. "They really don't like outsiders."

"Kinda like us," Ethan breathed. "You just keep selling me on this job, don't you?"

Ethan followed Javier until they reached the spot that overlooked a compound. They crouched down, and from there, they were able to observe their surroundings.

"Big place, huh?" Javier said, though it was more of a question.

Ethan grabbed his binoculars from his saddlebags; the place consisted of several buildings and the main house seemed to be a decent size, which meant more people could be inside. Overall though, the farm looked like the perfect place to lead a quiet life where the eyes of society could not intrude.

"Pretty big barn in the back, not a bad place to start–" Ethan pointed out. "The house is pretty big…that worries me."

"What do you think?" Javier asked.

"The stash could be in any one of those buildings and who knows how many people are in the house. You know, the more I think about it, the more I ain't so sure about this–"

"We need to draw them out somehow," Javier tried. "I've got an idea. Follow me."

Ethan followed Javier through the trees to the farm. And up until that moment, he was pondering whether it had been a good idea to give his rifle to Sadie, leaving him with only his revolver and the hope that Javier's plan would work.

"All these trees, I can't get a decent look." Javier whispered.

"Heh, hopefully it'll make it harder for them to spot us." Ethan rationalized.

As they finally approached the out buildings, they heard voices among the trees. The voices led to the farm, and whoever they belonged to, they were furious.

"Let's hide behind this shed," Javier pointed. "See if we can hear what they're saying."

The duo hopped the fence and crouched down low until they were safely behind the shed.

"Shut your gulper, Newt! Pappy hears and I'll be munching doodle from the horses."

"Maybe you's hunt a pig this time once, Mal?"

"Creepers, Fin, don't score notions in the dippy plimick's head!"

"What the fuck are they talking about?" Ethan muttered.

"Just stay quiet."

"Where you been, Newt?" The man asked.

"Don't be boiling, Pappy. I was gone, but ten minutes, I was."

"You can lollygag all day long cause Eddie takes patrol now, don't you?"

"What? No, Eddie get all the jam!"

"You shut your gulper or I'll flagger your felt, I will!" The man known as Pappy threatened. "You need to pull it up, boy. Up."

"I'll create a little distraction then you jump 'em, okay?" Javier said.

"Alright, what kind of distraction?" Ethan asked.

"You'll see–"

Ethan hurried around the shed until he was in front of the kitchen window of the house. He had no idea what Javier's plan was, but whatever it was, it had to be quick or run the risk of being at the mercy of these people. Just then, the shrills and shrieks of the demented had Ethan glancing over his shoulder; the shed he was hiding behind was now engulfed in flames. Javier must've set it ablaze the moment he snuck away.

"Oh Swinkin' heck!"

"What the hickory happened here?"

The three gathered just beyond the barn, and it was then they saw Javier peer out from behind the shed. And just as he went to yell, Javier shot the man point blank between the eyes. Ethan fired his revolver twice, each bullet embedding where he intended them to go.

"Danger is upon us! Defend yours, don't ya!"

Ethan ran to the back of the house, following the gunfire like a maze. When he rounded the corner, he saw shots coming from the barn aimed at Javier; some from the first floor and some from the second. Ethan peered out from behind some barrels, observing the figure firing from the second floor.

They suddenly both caught a glimpse of each other at the same time, and as the barrel of their gun targeted him…Ethan was much quicker; he pulled the trigger even before they had a chance to steady their hand.

"Ethan!" Javier shouted.

Someone was still firing at Javier, only this time, from the smaller house. The figure leaned out of the window, and the last two shots from Ethan's revolver were enough to kill him. Javier emerged from his hiding place behind the burning shed, as Ethan quickly reloaded his revolver.

The silence soon engulfed them, like the fire engulfed the shed; slow, then fast and then all together.

"I don't see anymore," Javier assured, grabbing his hat. "Let's look around."

"They weren't shy about defending that barn," Ethan pointed out. "Let's check in there first."

Ethan and Javier entered the barn, where they both learned that the shooter was a mother and daughter duo. They searched around the place until Javier spotted something in the corner; a crate. He walked over and kicked it with his boot.

"Aye, help me out Amigo–" Javier called out.

"Coming."

Ethan hurried over and was a little eager to see what was inside. And so, after a few tries, they were able to open the crate with minimal effort. At the bottom of said crate, sat a small metal container.

"Hmm…let's see what we got in here," He reached inside and pulled out the container.

He opened the metal container and his breath hitched. Inside the lightly lined container sat several wads of cash. He looked to Javier, who looked like a child opening presents on Christmas morning.

"Ha! I told you it was worth the trouble, didn't I?"

"Yeah, yeah–" Ethan breathed. "Let's search the house."

The two parted ways with the money, but only for a time. They crossed the yard to the house and began their search; the place was certainly strange. It looked like a normal dwelling, but there was a heaviness hanging over them like a thunderstorm.

"They must've been thieving and kidnapping for years. I'll tell you that much." Javier observed.

"I guess these woods'll be safer now." Ethan said, climbing the ladder to the loft.

As he weaved in and out of the crates, he didn't expect to find such a jewel; a gun case, with a shotgun inside. But not just any old shotgun, a pump-action shotgun.

"Sweet mother…" Ethan breathed.

"Any luck?" Javier asked.

"You bet, amigo!" Ethan exclaimed, showing off the gun.

Javier laughed. "Cabron! Good for you!"

"I guess this was a good idea."

"Told you. I know what I'm talking about–" Javier boasted. "Dutch'll be glad to know we actually did something constructive."

"Yeah, I reckon you're right," He shouldered the gun. "We should probably head back now."

"You think we can? Law probably heard all that noise."

"Well…we should probably go the other way," Ethan chuckled. "I mean, if we could go through Valentine–"

"Forget it; we'll just take another route, and maybe," Javier shrugged. "We can go fishing?"

…

Despite his hesitance, Ethan couldn't say no to fishing. He was always pretty good at it - he enjoyed it very much, which always came up in conversations around the fire. He found peace within solitude and nature.

"It's been a long time since we were in the mountains–" Ethan thought aloud. "Been a strange couple of months."

"Yeah, you could say that."

"How do you feel about all this?" Ethan asked.

Javier shrugged. "I can't even return to my country because the price on my head is so big. So I can't really put a finger on how I feel, amigo."

"Really?" Ethan asked.

"Yeah…but it's nothing new to me."

"I see."

"I'll always be loyal to Dutch, you know–" Javier assured. "He sees the world the same as me. If we have to fight, we fight. If we have to run, we run. And if we have to die, we die, but we'll always be free."

"Hmm."

Some time passed as they crossed the Heartlands once again. It was high noon now and Ethan figured they'd be back to camp by dinner time. He'd be glad to see his tent again, but something urgent was raging within him. He turned to Javier and cleared his throat.

"Hey uh, about Dutch. You…uh, you don't feel like, er well…he's doing things a little differently now?"

Javier remained silent.

"You saw what happened with that girl on the ferry, right?" Ethan clarified.

"No fight, good or bad, is won without blood," Javier said, remaining stoic. "I know that better than most, I think too many people are focusing on Dutch when they should be looking at themselves—what they could have done better."

"Like Micah," Ethan mumbled to himself. "Maybe you're right."

When they reached the Lemoyne state line, they crossed over into the forest. Javier mentioned it was a shortcut, so he'd pay attention. If it cuts down the chance of them being attacked by raiders, he'll take the risk of being chased by bears or being bitten by a snake.

"Over here," Javier pointed. "The other day I rode down to the Lannaheche River, and caught some beautiful steelhead trout."

"I think you mean the Lanna-ha-see River."

"No, no, the Lannaheche," Javier assured. "It runs right near here."

"Yeah but, it's pronounced Lannahasee."

Javier heaved a sigh. "Why is everything in English said differently than it's written? To make us feel stupid?"

Ethan chuckled; he was right though. He remembered asking his pa why words sounded differently than they were spelled, but even he was perplexed. He also remembered his pa asking Hosea in confidence, and the old man was just as stumped as they were. They both arrived at the location Javier mapped out; the area was very remote, with an undisturbed lake and nature surrounding them. No horse and wagons, trains, people. Nothing.

"It's beautiful." Ethan stated as a matter of fact.

"You should bring your pa one day, get the old grump out for once." Javier teased, as he grabbed his fishing rod.

Ethan always carried his own rod; a collapsible one his father had given him when he was just a boy. They spaced themselves around the lake, so their hooks wouldn't tangle. And after a couple of attempts by Ethan, he gave up trying and decided to just enjoy the solitude.

"Well, I guess it's still relaxing even if I don't catch anything."

"Maybe it's the bait, you can use mine." Javier offered, pointing to the bag nearby.

"Maybe, or maybe I'm a poor fisherman. At least, compared to you and Hosea."

"Just try some." He chucked the bag across the lake.

Ethan swiftly caught the bag and opened it; he looked up, confused. "Crickets?"

"Just trust me."

"Alrighty."

He reeled in his line and tossed the writhing worm in the water. He baited his hook with a cricket, then cast it back in the water. And it was within a matter of minutes that he saw movement near his line.

"Heh, you weren't kidding!"

Ethan struggled a bit, but managed to reel in the fish.

"Hey, you remember that stagecoach we held up in Nevada?" Javier asked.

The memory was vague, but he remembered the important parts; like disobeying his father and joining them, when he wasn't supposed to.

"Yeah, I think so. It was a tip from a crooked lawman in Reno, right?"

"We opened the door, and it's full of women and children. Rich, but women and children–"

"I remember." Ethan said.

That was the first robbery where a new rule was implemented; no harm to any women or children.

"We let it go and read in the newspaper that the O'Driscoll's robbed and killed them all the next day further down the trail."

"Yeah I remember. It's hard to believe Colm and Dutch were friends, you know?"

"Friends?" Javier asked.

"Yeah, my pa told me about it. They weren't friends like us, but they had an understanding. But then Colm changed, and Dutch didn't change with him."

"And here we are–"

Ethan took advantage of that moment of leisure to gather his thoughts. And there were many. He had a good time with Javier that afternoon; telling stories and catching some fish that would make Pearson happy. And at least they'd have a decent meal for once.

Sometimes in the midst of all the chaos, he saw life for what it was worth and how peaceful it could be. Sometimes it upset him that he'd never get a chance to experience it, but other times…it comforted him. Like the calm before a storm.