A/N: I make some references to a real in-game theory about the truth of the rebel gold the two families were fighting about. I watched this video from a YouTuber who calls himself "Strange Man." He makes videos discussing theories and lore about the Red Dead Redemption universe. They're really cool.

Also, my laptop finally died. I'll try to stay consistent on posting, but since I'm mostly using my twin brother's computer and my phone to write now, I may be a bit limited. So, if I miss an upload day, don't panic.

"Never stand between a man and his vengeance, cowpoke. They'll destroy everything in their path to get it, even their friends, if they try to stop them."

Day by day, it felt like Arthur was finding more and more reasons to dislike Micah. At least he had chores and jobs to keep him distracted. Lenny had taken him out to Shady Belle, an old, abandoned plantation house. It was taken over by the Lemoyne Raiders, who repurposed the building into a base.

Lenny had spotted it, finding out that they traded weapons and other things with other gangs, and even countries off on the oceans somewhere. So, he and Arthur went to Shady Belle and grabbed a cart that was packed with brand new Bolt Action Rifles. They made it back to the camp, and parked the wagon in the same place they had hid the stolen Braithwaite moonshine.

White doves had been flying in and out of the camp. Maybe that was how Brandon knew about where they were located. They hadn't seen much of his "associates" in town. Maybe it was because they were busy being in the skies. Well, there was Alden, who worked at the train station in Rhodes. He was apparently also a "discouraged man" as Brandon would describe it. Trewlawny would say the same thing, before Alden gave them a tip about a carriage that looked good enough to rob.

It had been about five days in total since getting involved in all of those shenanigans. It was nice to go robbing again, instead of having to put up the good samaritan act, and being a deputy, of all things. It wasn't necessarily that he liked doing bad things, like Micah, but they were fun.

Yet another dove flew away from Clemens Point as Arthur returned to camp in the middle of the afternoon. Lily, who was near the hitching posts, read another note that the bird left and sighed.

"What's with all the birds?" said Arthur.

"It's Brandon," said Lily. "He's been sending letters through his birds. He said it would be better if we communicated through his associates, until we pinpoint the O'Driscoll's location in Lemoyne. That and he has other things to do besides bounty hunting criminals."

Arthur shrugged his shoulders. He dismounted Soleil and tied her reins to the hitching post. "And Sam?"

Lily shook her head. "Been a few days… Said he was checking the possible locations. He saw Macomb's End, but didn't find much, other than a few stragglers. There was Dewberry Creek near the Rhodes' border, but it looks like they've withdrawn from there. Sadie went back to that orchard, but no one has bothered the owner or the workers."

"Like they've withdrawn from the area after freeing that bastard," said Arthur.

"Maybe…" said Lily. "Sam's been in and out of Rhodes trying to help the injured, while trying to find those O'Driscolls. I think I'll go check on him."

Arthur looked to the camp. It seemed quiet for now. All the chores were done and Pearson was getting started on making dinner.

"Well, if Micah isn't there, already…" Lily then grumbled.

Arthur hadn't seen Sam back at camp even once during the past few days. He wanted to relax, but… God damn it! Micah was going to get that fool killed! Then again, it sounded like Sadie didn't help things, either.

"No, stay and watch the camp." Arthur immediately turned around and unhitched his horse again. He felt bad for making Soleil work hard today but he made a mental note to reward her later.

"Are you sure?" said Lily.

Arthur was on his horse. He got his feet through the stirrups, and grabbed the reins. "Yeah, I'll get him. This is ridiculous."

Lily watched as he rode back out. She was worried about Arthur's hastiness, but trusted him.

Rhodes was still somewhat in disarray from the O'Driscolls' daring escape plan to free Seth Laslow from jail. There was a deputy standing guard at the giant hole left in the side of the station, with others near the entrance. The shops had opened back up, but there were police patrolling up and down the streets for the time being. They were likely still on high alert. The windows on several businesses and homes still had shattered windows, damaged walls, and debris, while it was slightly cleaned up, was still littering the streets. Arthur just glared at the sight of Aurora hitched next to Baylock at the Rhodes Parlor House. The police were everywhere and the last thing Arthur needed today was for Sam to make a scene at what he was about to do.

Slam!

Arthur heard a man getting slammed into the bar's surface before seeing him flop to the floor. Standing over the unconscious man and taking his spot at the bar, were a pair of Lemoyne Raiders. They all wore yellow handkerchiefs or bandanas, so it was easy to tell.

"Show some damn respect!" said the Raider.

The bartender hesitated before speaking. "Can I… get you boys anything?"

"Whiskey and some damn respect!"

"You have to earn respect…" a voice grumbled.

Arthur walked up to the bar, just in time to see that it was Micah who had spoken up. He was at the bar, as well, drinking with Sam. They were adjacent to the noisy couple.

"What the hell did you just say?" said one of the Raiders.

"You heard me."

Sam just drank another whiskey down as the Raider approached him. Micah moved his head just as the Raider threw a punch and missed. Micah busted out, laughing, as Sam broke the bottle on the Raider's head.

Then the other one pulled out a gun.

Arthur was there in the nick of time. He grabbed the gun just as the Raider squeezed the trigger, and made him shoot through the wall instead. People screamed, patrons started leaving and the bartender ducked underneath the bar. Arthur punched the threatening man in the face, before shoving his head into the wall and knocking him out cold on the floor.

"Arthur?" Sam could only say before the older man grabbed him by the arm and started walking him towards the back door.

"What's the deal, cowpoke?" said Micah.

"You find your own way back to camp, Micah!" Arthur growled. Sam couldn't even say a goodbye as the older outlaw dragged him out of the bar from the back exit.

"What are you doing?!" Sam demanded to know. "Let go!" The young man looked like hell. He had blood on his face and clothes, dark bags under his eyes, and the eyes themselves were red from not resting. His attempts to struggle and smack Arthur's firm hand away were almost nothing to him. Sam felt like his boots were providing little to no friction to stop Arthur from dragging him away. Maybe his lack of sleep could be to blame for that, but Arthur was a strong man, and was probably way stronger than him, despite the few months on the run.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Arthur snapped. "Dutch told us not to start anything here!"

"They started it! Let go!"

"The only place you're going is back to camp! Have you seen your goddamn self?!"

They were almost at the horses, when Arthur yanked him towards Aurora. Sam used the force and flowed with it, using it to twist around and backhanded Arthur behind his head.

"That's it!" Somehow hearing Arthur's voice when even angrier, made Sam smirk. His happiness was cut short, however, when Sam made to run, and Arthur gripped the back of his shirt collar and yanked him back, throwing him into the dirt. The air was squished out of his lungs from the impact as Arthur loomed over him. Sam's tired face was red with either embarrassment or from drinking as Arthur harshly turned him onto his stomach. The young man stuck his arm out in an attempt to crawl away, but the outlaw grabbed his wrist and forced it behind his back, along with the other. Sam felt his wrists being restrained by the rope of his lasso. His ankles received the same treatment. All he could do was grunt and whine as Arthur twisted him back around and lifted him over his shoulder, hat falling onto the ground.

"What are you doing?!" Sam shouted.

"If you're gonna act like a kid, I'm gonna treat you like one!" And with that Arthur tossed him onto the back of Soleil, with a tiny yelp from Sam. The outlaw picked up Sam's hat, before mounting his horse and lassoed Aurora to follow them back to camp.

Arthur took random trails and even went off the road a few times. He just wanted to make sure that no Lemoyne Raiders would follow them back to camp, and he also didn't want the police or any townspeople to get the wrong idea as to why he had someone tied up on the back of his horse.

Shockingly, despite Arthur's rough demeanor, he didn't ride too fast. Sam wasn't that drunk, but the kindness of not making the horse rock too much was nice, despite the situation. He tried for what felt like hours to struggle out of the binds, but he should've known that a long-time outlaw like Arthur Morgan would know how to tie a rope. Still he messed with the binds the best he could, saw the ground pass beneath him. His body was heavy and being forced to lay down in such a position made him aware of how tired he was.

Sam was shaken awake, by a pair of hands dragging him off the horse. He moved his head the best he could, seeing he was back at camp, hoisted over Arthur's shoulder. Aurora and Soliel were hitched up and Kieran walked up to tend to them.

The young man was taken into the familiar sights of his tent, and was tossed onto his cot, hands and ankles still tied up.

"Sleep it off, idiot!" Arthur walked off without another word, unwilling to stay and listen to any protests Sam had in return.

Sam rolled a bit in his cot, still trying to squirm out of his binds. He ended up on his side, his eyes still trying to droop shut, and he could hear voices talking outside. His teeth were held tight and unshed tears were in his eyes. Eventually, his breathing evened out, glad that no one was nearby enough to see him like this. The sun had set enough that everyone's field of vision was probably reduced in the dark.

Lily walked in with Arthur later to see that Sam had finally fallen asleep. His cousin walked over to clean the blood off of his face. He wasn't wounded, so it either came from a fight or providing medical care. As much as Sam had tried to struggle out of his binds, all he had done in his attempts was loosen them up a little. Since Sam was out cold, and not looking like he was going to be waking up anytime soon, Arthur decided to untie him. Lily pulled off Sam's boots and tucked him under a blanket.

"Where's Dutch?" Arthur said, as Lily petted Sam's hair. "Wouldn't he have said something about this?"

"He expressed concern, but I think he's out trying to butter up the Grays or something," said Lily. "Hosea's with Mrs. Braithwaite, probably doing the same. Something about a tree Micah found."

Arthur sighed. Lily stood up. "What are we going to do?" the young lady asked.

"Micah's the problem," Arthur grumbled. "Well, Sadie didn't help either."

"Sam ain't gonna stop until he finds those O'Driscolls, but Brandon hasn't found any of them in Lemoyne, lately."

The older outlaw pulled out a cigarette. "Let him sleep. But, when he wakes up, send him my way. If he tries to bolt, tell Charles." And he walked outside to smoke.

Lily wasn't sure what he was planning, but decided to watch over Sam for now.

When Sam woke up, it was the middle of the night. The tent was only lit up by candlelight. His hat had been placed neatly on the nightstand. Seeing that his hands were unbound, he reached around and pulled out his pocket watch, and sat up quickly.

"Two in the morning?!" Sam exclaimed.

Lily jolted awake in her chair. "Oh, you look… better." It was an improvement, but Sam still looked kind of terrible with those dark circles under his eyes.

Sam huffed and got onto his feet, tucking his pocket watch away. Lily stood up and grabbed his shoulder.

"Ah, before you go, Arthur wants to talk to you," she said.

Sam jerked his shoulder away. So, the same guy who dragged him out of the saloon, tied him up and brought him back to camp now wanted to have a civil conversation with him?

"Tch. Or what?"

Sam barely made it out of the tent, before seeing Charles standing guard. He didn't say a word and turned the young man towards the tiny pier facing Flat Iron Lake.

Most of the camp had gone to sleep. Even the flaps on Dutch's tent were shut. Sam walked towards the docks, where the boats were kept and saw Arthur out on the edge, drinking a beer.

Sam just crossed his arms, but kept walking. His boots on the wooden deck made a creaking sound which caught Arthur's attention.

"Good. You're up."

Sam didn't want to waste any time, thanks to Arthur's humiliation.

"Arthur, if you're just going to tell me to stop, then forget it."

Arthur sighed. He set his beer down on the deck next to his foot. "I ain't telling you to stop. Like Dutch said: 'you need to slow down.'"

"I don't have that luxury anymore."

"It ain't a luxury. It's a necessity."

"The necessity is finding those goddamn O'Driscolls!" Sam nearly shouted.

"No. It's finding money, so we can get the hell out of here. Did you forget?"

"So, you can get the hell out of here," said Sam. He looked away from the man opposing him. "I'm not wanted by the Pinkertons. They didn't lay waste to both Valentine and Rhodes and kill innocents over nothing, but the fact remains that the O'Driscolls targeted my uncle for a reason and I still don't know why."

"Watch your mouth when it comes to what our job is, boy," Arthur said, sternly. "What would Dutch say if he heard you say that?" He then sighed. "I know nothing I say is gonna stop you."

Sam snapped his head back around, tired eyes looking at the older outlaw. "Then why the hell are we even here discussing this?"

"Because you need to calm down and listen when I say 'slow down', not 'stop.'"

Sam scoffed. He kicked one of his feet, refusing to make eye contact, but he at least looked in Arthur's general direction.

The outlaw smoked another cigarette. For a little while it was quiet, but Sam didn't move where he was. Arthur quietly finished his cigarette and tossed the remnants of it into the water.

"I don't talk about it much…" Arthur finally said after a long silence.

"Huh?"

"I had a son once."

Sam cleared his throat. "What?"

"It was years ago…"

Sam raised his eyebrows and turned to him. "You had a child?"

"...Issac." Arthur was looking out towards the water. "His mother, Eliza, was a waitress. We were pretty young. Like, nineteen or something. She knew who I was… What my life was like… When she got pregnant, I didn't want to make any promises I couldn't keep, but I promised I'd do right by them. Every few months I'd stop by and stay a few days. He was a good kid. She was, too, I guess. And then… one day I was on my way to see them… and when I got there, two crosses were sitting outside. I knew right away…"

Sam's mouth hung open in horror.

"Some bastards had come through," Arthur continued, his tone of voice turning flat. "They robbed them and then shot them dead…" The outlaw took a deep breath, but it was shaky, "all for ten dollars."

"I… I'm really sorry…" said Sam. "Why… why would…"

Arthur huffed, a smile appeared briefly, but deep down, both men knew that quiet little second of what sounded like a laugh was just to cope. Arthur wasn't okay. Not then. And Sam wasn't sure if he was right now, at least in this moment, opening up like this.

"'Why?'" Arthur repeated. "I asked myself over and over again. I didn't even go back to camp. Felt like I didn't deserve to go home… or to even have a home, because… I felt like I failed them. I felt like… if I did, it would be like giving up. I spent days, maybe even weeks in the area, asking people what they knew. Then, one day, I found a lead. As soon as I had it I rode out of town towards it." He sighed. "I must have traveled for hours. I had bags under my eyes, my head was hurting and my horse eventually bucked me off from making him ride around for days without rest. I had cuts and bruises. I was pretty sure I was coming down with something, but I kept going. I managed to get to the hideout where those bastards were holed up. When I finally made it, I could barely stand… but I didn't care."

Sam was listening intently. Was this why he was so against Sam wanting revenge? Was it because he once desired it, himself?

"I just went in," said Arthur. "I had a gun and had already been killing, so I thought it wouldn't be that hard. After all, they killed over ten dollars. The last guy managed to break my nose." Arthur scratched an itch he had on the ridge of his nose. Sam had noticed a crease there but assumed it was just there. Was it a permanent mark from what happened to him? "There I was: on the floor, with a bloody nose, one man dead, and too damn exhausted to even cry for help. I should've been done for, but luckily for my dumb ass…" Arthur looked up towards the night sky for a moment. "Dutch and Hosea showed up. They had managed to track me down just in time…"

Arthur brought his gaze back down. "I should've been killed that night for being so stupid…"

Sam was silent for a moment. He could tell that talking about that part of his life was difficult. Eliza and Issac weren't the first family he lost. They were the second.

Arthur seemed dazed. Like, his mouth was struggling to form words.

"Feeling that kind of pain…" he then said. "So, don't think for a second that I don't understand how you feel."

"I'm sorry that happened to you…" said Sam. "But, this is different. It wasn't just a few bastards. There's a whole gang. They laid waste to towns, and many innocents. I don't have anyone to go home to. If something happens to Lily, I have no one who cares-"

Arthur suddenly snapped back to himself and looked at Sam. "Would you look around the goddamn camp?! If nobody else except Lily cared, do you think we would have taken you in and let you help us? Would the girls have wanted you to help with their chores if they didn't care? Did Kieran want to take you fishing because he didn't care? Do you think I stitched up your back when we were in West Elizabeth, tied you up and dragged your sorry ass back to camp because I didn't care?"

Sam dropped his jaw. His heart skipped a beat.

"I don't doubt for a second that you're going to find what you're looking for, but don't you ever think what everyone will think if you destroy yourself in the process?"

"I'm not going to!" Sam snapped.

"You're already on that path!" Arthur pushed Sam back. "Nothing of what happened in those two towns is your damn fault, so stop acting like it is!"

"I could've stopped them!" Sam pushed Arthur back.

"Well, now you can't stop nobody!" And with that, Arthur pushed Sam so hard he lost his balance. He started falling backwards off the docks towards the water. Just as the young man closed his eyes and braced for the water to collide with him, he was stopped. A firm hand was holding his wrist. Sam opened his eyes. It was Arthur.

Slowly, Arthur pulled him back, so he was standing on the dock. Sam wasn't sure why, but he was tearing up, his head looking down. He didn't have any doubt that the friends he had made in the camp cared about him, so why did he forget?

Arthur hadn't let go of Sam's wrist, despite standing safely on the dock. Despite looking at the floor, Sam could feel his eyes on him. The outlaw moved his hand up his arm and he felt both of Arthur's hands on his shoulders.

"I ain't asking you to stop," he spoke again. This time his voice was much more gentle. Sam grabbed Arthur's wrists, but didn't move them away. "But for Christ's sake, get some rest. If not yourself, then for the people who care about you."

Sam sighed, he looked Arthur in those crystal blue eyes before he lowered his head again, resting it on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur sighed and surrendered, putting his arms around him, and Sam did so in return.

"It's okay, Sam," said Arthur. "Like I said: You ain't alone no more."

It was hard, but Sam went back to bed. If there really was nothing he could do for the moment, then he probably just had to let it go… for now. "For now"… That's what he told himself. He couldn't just give up. He wasn't going to.

He slept, but when he woke up the next morning, he was unsure of what to do with himself. The sun was shining through the tent opening. The fact that it was open probably meant that Lily had woken up first.

He had been distracted, teaching Jack and Sean, and going fishing, but when he had nothing to do, his mind would drift.

Was Arthur really worried that much about him? He said… he cared? The thought of it made his heart warm… which scared him. Maybe that was what he was trying to get away from? He sat up and huffed. Someone like him? He was a man, for starters. After everything Arthur had been through before they even met, the last thing he would ever want was someone like him and his… impurities. Eliza was probably very beautiful and Mary-Linton was as well.

Sam laughed to himself. He had no chance, did he? Then why did he feel so sad thinking that?

He needed another distraction. If he didn't find one, he'd spiral into a rut, thinking about his own damn feelings. He had thought little else than avenging his uncle since this all started, but not thinking about it made Sam feel empty.

So, the next morning, when he was finally able to go back to working as a guard at the Gray's place, he found himself never more excited to go to work. Lily even packed him a lunch for that day.

"'Where the death adder spits'?"

Dutch read back the photo Hosea snuck while he was poking around the Braithwaite estate. It took a while to get the picture developed, but he had it now, and there were words carved into the bark of a tree, like Micah had described. Hosea went to Dutch's tent to talk about strategy.

"That's all it said, Dutch," said Hosea. "That's what Micah saw. That's what we get with him."

The gang leader sighed. "Well, it's gotta mean something. I feel like we've gotten no closer to that so-called rebel gold."

"Well, an adder is a type of snake," said Hosea. "But there's snakes all around the Bayou. Do we just follow one of them?"

Dutch wandered to the map he had on his desk. "Or, maybe it's not talking about the animal, but something that looks like the animal.

Hosea joined Dutch on his maps. They looked at them for a while, until Hosea pointed at something: A place called Copperhead Landing.

"That kind of looks like a snake head, doesn't it?" said Hosea.

"More or less," said Dutch. I don't see anywhere else. We should send someone to take a look. Just one or two, so we don't look suspicious. Where's Sam?"

"He's still out working for the Gray family."

"I'll send someone with an eye for spotting things. Maybe Javier, and Arthur can provide some muscle in case things go wrong."

"Well, we certainly can't send John and Arthur these days," Hosea said with resignation.

Dutch huffed. "Is that so?"

"He's still angry over him leaving."

"He was like his brother, Hosea," said Dutch. "Hell, they grew up together."

"But he's back, now," said Hosea. "Isn't that what matters?"

"Well, maybe Arthur, like me, cares about loyalty. Which, John at the time, failed to have."

"Sure," Hosea replied, doubtfully.

"I'm not saying I don't care about the boy, Hosea. But he hurt more than just Arthur, and you know it."

The both of them knew that they were talking about Abigail and Jack. And, from the sounds of it, Dutch was hurt from his abandonment, as well.

"Anyway, I'll get Javier and Arthur to go and just take a look before the sun goes down," said Hosea. "I don't want any digging to start until we find a clue." And he left the tent.

"Oh, there you are!" said Beau.

Beau had entered the Gray's horse stables, and found Sam on his break, treating Aurora for putting up with his bullshit the past few days.

Sam chuckled and patted his own shoulder. "A few new scars, but it's just a scratch."

"Yeah, I heard."

Then, Sam turned to Beau, taking his gaze away from his horse, and nearly jumped at what he saw. Beau looked like he had been in a scuffle, a black eye apparent.

"Now, can I ask what happened to you?" said Sam.

"Nothing!" said Beau. "Well, my cousins are just vindictive bastards. And my brothers… but my cousins are worse. I told you, I meant it when I said, that Penelope is the only one who makes me happy, but when I have it, it's like everything and everyone wants to take it away." He walked over to one of the stalls and sat on top of the fencing, grabbing onto a post.

Sam sighed. He tried not to frown, but he did. He couldn't necessarily say he was in a similar predicament. Especially, since the person on his mind was probably none the wiser… and he probably had no chance, anyway… He walked over with his satchel, always packed with medical supplies and decided to at least tend to Beau injuries. The young fool had a few cuts that Sam cleaned up and covered with some light bandages, and he had some ointment to help the swelling on his eye go down.

"Just apply this twice a day, and it should help the swelling," said Sam.

Beau winced at the touch, probably feeling slight pain from his eye, but he stayed still enough. As much as Sam wanted to say that Beau was better off not pursuing this, it didn't sound like he was happy with his family, either. He didn't have anyone to confide in except Penelope. Unlike him, Beau could actually have a chance. Maybe Sam was in denial that things could work out for Beau, because there was no way for him. He was going to finish his mission. What happened after that, didn't matter.

"Why… Why don't you just… run?" said Sam.

"Huh?"

"Take Penelope and get out of here. It doesn't seem like either of you are happy with your families."

Beau nodded. "I will. I just don't have enough money yet."

"Isn't your family rich?"

"Well, I think so. My family is, but not me. They… keep me out of the financial discussions. They say I have a more artistic temperament."

"Hmm." Sam stepped back. He looked as cleaned up as he was gonna get. "Well…" Sam leaned back on a post as Beau stood up. "I probably shouldn't but…"

"But what?"

"I can show you on… how to snag a few things… without… you know… getting caught."

Beau gasped. "S-Stealing? But… We've been…" He was flustered. "I can't do that. What will my family say?"

"They sound like they deserve it," Sam said with a shrug. "You said they're sitting on a lot of money? Or possibly gold?"

Beau snickered. "I really don't know of any gold, if we've got it."

Sam grinned. "Well, you did say they keep you out of the discussions."

"Yeah… But if we've got secrets, we bury them. And we bury them deep. You know, Catherine Braithwaite has a daughter, but no one has seen her in years. Said she weren't right in the head… or something like that."

"Does Penelope know any other secrets?" said Sam. He was intrigued. If he had the trust of both Beau Gray and Penelope Braithwaite, perhaps he could squeeze the truth about the so-called gold the two families might be sitting on.

"I don't know," said Beau. "Probably."

"Well, anyway, if you need money, it might be the quickest way. But, you'll have to do it quietly, and make sure your family doesn't catch on to the money you're hoarding, or they'll know you might be up to something."

"What if I get caught?" said Beau. "You've seen what they've done to me. I can't fight."

Sam sighed. "I guess not."

"Wow. Thanks."

"Not yet." Sam stood up straight and walked up to Beau. "Put 'em up."

Beau backed away. "Huh?"

"I thought I couldn't, either," said Sam. "In fact, the first time I was ever in a real fight that I didn't run from, I was slammed into the mud while two men kicked the crap out of me." He rubbed his chest at the memory. "But, a friend of mine didn't give up on me. Actually, I have many friends who help me find my footing so that I can survive. They taught me a few things."

The lovestruck man was dumbfounded. He had heard the stories and rumors of the so-called "O'Driscoll Slayer." A man with a vengeance, wanting the blood of O'Driscolls, shooting them down with a cold stare in those stone colored eyes. In reality, the man out pursuing them was almost like a normal man, just like any other.

So, Beau agreed. And he put his fists up. Sam walked around making sure his stance was right. And like, when Sam was in the learner's shoes, he repeated Arthur's advice to him.

"Don't let the adrenaline get to you," Sam would tell him. "Keep your hips squared to your opponent. You let them make the first move, and wait for an opening."

Beau felt a bit better after their small sparring in the stable. He was also glad the horses didn't get too riled up from them practice fighting.

"Alright, well," Sam said, checking his pocket watch. "Well, I should get back to it. I should've been working again about twenty minutes ago." He grabbed Aurora's reins and led her out of the stall.

"H-Hey, wait!"

Sam turned back to see Beau searching his pocket. "H-Here!" The young man presented a stack of dollars to him. "For helping me." He smiled. "I needed this."

It was tempting, but he didn't really need money these days. Well, the gang did, but he was sure he could just take money from some other fool, at least for today.

"Nah, keep it," said Sam. "Uh… This lesson was free today." And with that, he mounted his horse and rode off to go on patrol. He may not have hope in romance, but he could least try and give someone else a chance.

Lemoyne was as hot as the heated tempers between the Grays and the Braithwaites. Still, the rest of the day was peaceful, but Sam could barely distract himself from his thoughts about Arthur. He told himself in his head to just forget about it. So, why couldn't he?

"Alms for the poor! AH!"

Sam had been so dazed, that he didn't realize he trampled a bucket full of change and dollars. He watched as they spilled out onto the dirt, as a nearby nun watched in shock. She had a dark complexion, looking to be in her late forties or early fifties, wearing the traditional robes for a nun.

The young man immediately brought his horse to a stop and dismounted. "I'm so sorry, Sister." The nun watched as Sam sped around like crazy, trying to pick up every last cent and dollar. He came back with handfuls, not caring that his hands were covered in dirt by the time he was done.

"H-Here…" he said, putting the last of the change he found back in the pail. "It's probably not all of it, but…"

"No, it's okay," the nun said. Her brown eyes looked at him, kindly. "You did your best. Not everyone would stop after doing something like that, even by accident."

Sam dusted himself off. "Sorry, I was… distracted."

The woman nodded. It would seem so. "Is there something on your mind?"

Sam shook his head. "No, ma'am. Just some stupid love affairs." He was then met with a laugh.

"Oh, of course love can be stupid, but it's not anything to be shunned. It's what keeps people going, gives people purpose."

The young man wasn't sure. He shrugged, his mouth trying not to frown, but ended up somewhat slanted. "Even if… it could be… painful?"

"All love is painful," the woman of God said. "It can drive people crazy, do things they never thought possible, but living for it is better than wallowing in sorrow and regret. It's not easy, but if you are willing to fight for it, to nurture it, to protect it, you can eventually find happiness."

Fight… for love? Sam thought. He wasn't really sure, and he wasn't a religious man, but it did get him thinking about the future, at least a little. Lily wouldn't let him die after he found his uncle's killer, that was a fact. She'd make goddamn sure he'd live the rest of his life.

And above all else, she'd want him to be happy.

"That so?" said Sam. "I guess that sounds… simple enough."

"Yes… Life is much simpler than we make it. You can call me Sister Calderón. I'm passing through the country to help out the other churches, but I'm about to return to Saint Denis. Maybe if you're in town, I can see you again. Our church is quite lovely."

Sam nodded. "Maybe. And, here…" He knew he probably shouldn't have, considering he had money to give to the gang, but he put a few dollars into the little bucket. "Here you go, Sister." Sam got on his horse and rode off, more carefully this time.

"Thank-you, sir," said Calderón. "And God bless you!"

Somehow, today felt more fulfilling to Sam than the others in the past few weeks. He walked into camp tired, but smiling.

Arthur was probably out still doing something, which was fine. He was nervous, but thought that the nun wasn't speaking nonsense. Even if… he feared having anyone he loved being taken away.

His aunt…

His mother…

His uncle…

Charles was whittling some arrows by the fire, when Sam approached him.

"Hey, uh, Charles?" Sam asked, shyly. "I was, uh… wondering if… you could help me make something?"

Charles smiled. "Sure."

Today had been kind of a waste for Arthur. He had spent almost the whole day out by Copperhead Landing with Javier and didn't find anything on that rumored gold.

He got back when it was late. To end a day of nothing, Javier had taken him fishing, so at least they wouldn't return empty-handed.

Arthur was pleased to see Sam already asleep in his tent by the time almost everyone was going to sleep, as well. He decided to hit the hay himself, but when he entered his tent, he was surprised to see something waiting for him on the table near his bedside. He saw the woven loop and spider-like string within. There were pretty feathers hanging onto the tassels. It was a dream catcher. Next to it was a note that simply read, "Sweet dreams."

Arthur smiled. Despite there being no signature, he already had a feeling as to who made this. The weaving was a bit all over the place and the feathers were a bit ruffled. It wasn't as neat as Charles made Sam's, like someone had just weaved and whittled for the first time.

Still, he happily hung it over his bedside before turning in for the night.

He woke up the next morning. And Sam was already awake, just in time to see Arthur wander towards the stew fire, yawning and stretching.

"Coffee?" Sam said, holding out a tin mug.

Arthur nodded and took the drink. "Thank-you. And for last night."

Sam was looking so much better. Arthur guessed that tying up an idiot sometimes did wonders for them. Sam stood up, a smile on his face, but he failed to make eye contact.

"And here I was, thinking I was sneaking," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "So where'd you go?"

"Hosea thought he had a lead on that gold," said Arthur. "Javier and I went out, but didn't find anything."

"Well, I'm sure we'll find it soon," said Sam. "Until then… yeah."

Arthur nodded. "Of course." He finished the rest of his coffee and set the empty mug down next to the pot. "So, how about I teach you about hunting, like I promised?"

Sam turned to him. "Really?"

"I did say I'd teach you. We can start when you're done working for them Grays today."

The young man nodded, trying not to blush at how hard his chest was pounding.

"Yeah, sounds like fun! Just no cougars, okay?"