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Chapter 2: Horseshoe Overlook

A couple of weeks later...

Arthur's Journal,
We got off the mountain.. and rode east into some pretty enough country called the Heartlands. Ain't been this far east in many a year. Dutch seems a little better. His eyes are sparkling once more and.. I can see he's thinking a little clearer. I think we all feel a little happier.. spite of Blackwater and that whole mess.

Arthur closed his journal and stood up, grabbing his hat from the table in front of him and putting it on. He immediately walked to the barrel with the mirror and his shaving products. He had put shaving behind his head, but it was growing too long for his liking; he preferred it clean-shaven.

Once he was done, Hosea called out to him, "Arthur." He snapped his head up at the sound. There was Hosea, holding a metal cup—definitely coffee—walking toward Arthur. Arthur walked around the barrel. "Hosea," he said, gratefully accepting the metal mug filled with coffee.

Hosea gave a smile and patted Arthur on the shoulder, then turned around, raising his arms in the air, the smile still on his face. "Quite a day," he said cheerfully.

Arthur watched him, bringing the mug to his lips but pausing halfway. "Let's hope so," he replied, then took a drink of the coffee.

Hosea continued, "There's a bunch of the boys already in Valentine... Bill, Charles, and Javier. And Swanson found something down at the train station by the lake, apparently. And Strauss came with that creepy little smile on his face. I'm sure there's a whole list of unfortunates he's forced money upon."

Arthur chuckled at Hosea, who had turned around to face him again. With a quick motion, Arthur downed the last sip of his coffee. "Thank you. And you?" he asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Hosea looked at Arthur and said, "I'm gonna read a book." Arthur chuckled at that, watching as Hosea turned away. He placed the empty mug on a nearby crate before heading toward his horse. He wanted to feed him before setting off to explore the town and surrounding area too.

He walked to his horse, which was hitched by the hitching station the camp had set up for the animals. Arthur patted the horse's neck and rummaged through his bag for something to feed him. Once he found something decent, he handed it to his horse, stroking his mane as he ate. Satisfied, he walked away toward a nearby wagon. As he rounded the corner, he saw Uncle sleeping with his feet crossed.

Arthur gave Uncle's feet a light kick, rousing him awake. "Careful not to work yourself to death there, Uncle," Arthur said, watching as the older man slowly sat up and then stood, stretching.

"I was thinking." Uncle replied once he was fully upright.

Arthur smirked, not believing a word of it. "Does it pay well?"

"Eventually." grumbled Uncle.

Arthur smirked and placed a hand on Uncle's shoulder. "So, while the rest of us are busy... stealing, killing, lying... fighting to try and survive... you get to think all day?" he asked, looking Uncle up and down.

"It's a strange world we live in, Arthur Morgan." Uncle replied with a lazy grin.

Arthur shook his head at the response. "Do you wanna head into town, see if we can find something, anything, out?" he asked, resting both hands on his gun belt.

Uncle nodded, stretching again. "Sure, I got some errands to run," he said with a shrug.

Arthur nodded, then glanced at the front of the wagon. "Great," he said, before turning back to Uncle, pointing firmly at the wagon. "Go check if the horses are ready."

He gave Uncle a pointed look, making it clear there was no room for disagreement. Uncle grumbled under his breath but obediently shuffled off to get the horses ready, muttering as he went.

Arthur walked to the back of the wagon, pulling out a cigarette and placing it between his lips, "If you're gonna take the old man into town, could you take us too?"

Arthur looked up, spotting Karen, Mary-Beth, and Tilly standing nearby. He raised an eyebrow. "Why? What you got planned?" he asked, pulling a match from his pocket and striking it against the sole of his boot. He then lit the cigarette, taking a slow drag.

"Nothing... we'll find something for y'all to do, we always do." Karen replied with a smirk, walking closer with Mary-Beth and Tilly following her.

Mary-Beth chimed in, "We're bored out of our minds. Been cooped up here for two weeks now. Karen's about ready to murder Miss Grimshaw."

Karen swatted Mary-Beth lightly on the stomach, grinning. Arthur smirked and flicked his wrist toward Karen. "Well, can Miss Grimshaw spare you?" he asked, as he took another drag from his cigarette, his eyes flicking between the two.

The three girls didn't take kindly to Arthur's response. Mary-Beth threw her arms in the air dramatically before letting them fall to her sides. Karen stared at him in disbelief, watching him smoke as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"'Can Miss Grimshaw spare you?' What's happened to you, Arthur? Three young, healthy women want you to take 'em robbing, and you're worried about house chores? Let's go!" Karen exclaimed, her voice dripping with mock indignation.

Arthur glanced down at his feet, unable to argue. What could he say? With a resigned chuckle, he shrugged. "Fair enough, you got me. Come on then."

The girls celebrated, grinning and making their way to the back of the wagon. Arthur took one last deep inhale of his cigarette before flicking it to the ground and crushing it under his boot as he walked to the front of the wagon, exhaling the smoke.

"I can't believe we're going to see civilization. Feels like weeks since we did." Tilly commented happily, her excitement clear.

Uncle chuckled at her. "Yeah, Valentine— the very embodiment of civilization. You ladies are gonna love it."

Arthur climbed up beside Uncle, grabbing the reins. He glanced over his shoulder at the three women in the back of the wagon. "Okay then. Let's go." he said, giving the reins a light flick to set the horses in motion.

Uncle leaned back against the wooden curved bar, stretching out comfortably. "Alright, out through the trees here, then take a left," he directed lazily. Arthur gave the horses another flick, urging the wagon to pick up speed. The sunlight filtering through the trees felt incredible—no more damn snow or relentless snowstorms. Just warmth, greenery, and the sense of real nature around him. The snow had nearly driven Arthur mad; he was a man of the West, more accustomed to the sun's heat than the biting cold.

As the wagon rolled forward, Arthur turned left onto the dirt road, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. In the corner of his eye, he noticed Uncle shifting in his seat, placing one arm on the curved bar behind them and turning slightly toward the three girls in the back.

"Ladies, sing us a song." Uncle said, a grin spreading across his face, clearly in the mood for some entertainment. The girls laughed.

I got a girl in Berryville can't be screwed 'cause she too damn ill.

So I don't go down there no more.

There's a blue horse lays outside her door.

I got a girl in Valentine likes to drink that fancy wine.

Plumes in her hat was two feet tall the crack in her pants paid for it all.

I got a girl in Berryville.

Can't get it in her cause she won't stay still.

Arthur noticed a wagon ahead swaying uncontrollably as they rode alongside the train tracks. "Look at that coach, he... he's all over the place." Uncle remarked.

Suddenly, the two horses pulling the wagon broke loose, bolting away in a panic. "Oh, goddamn it! Oh, shit, the horses!" the man on the coach yelled, his voice tinged with desperation.

Arthur quickly decided to stop his wagon next to the distressed one. He pulled on the reins, bringing the horses to a halt. As he looked over, he saw the man was older, clearly shaken by the situation.

"Is one of you gonna get that feller's horse?" Tilly asked expectantly, looking between Arthur and Uncle.

Uncle turned halfway around, waving off the suggestion. "Oh, I got lumbago, it's very serious!".

Arthur rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed. Letting go of the reins, he jumped down from the wagon. "Alright, I'll see what's going on... Lumbago. Really..." he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

Walking to the other side of the older man's wagon, he saw the old man carefully stepping off the front seat, looking a bit shaken but unharmed.

"You alright there, friend?" Arthur asked.

The old man nodded, grateful for the help. "Oh hey, you couldn't help me get my other horse back from over there, could you?"

Arthur nodded and walked back around, spotting the white horse on the other side of the train tracks. Making sure no train was coming, he crossed the rails and approached the horse, moving slowly to avoid startling it.

Arthur calmly talked to the horse, which was clearly in distress, his voice low and soothing as he approached. The horse was a real beauty, with a fine build, clearly meant for pulling coaches or helping with heavy work like in the mines. Its coat was a light grey, and its mane was a striking white. As the horse began to settle, Arthur studied it closely—it looked to be a Shire, a breed known for its height, strength, and use in hard labour that most humans couldn't handle.

Once he was close enough, Arthur gently patted the horse's neck, feeling the power beneath its calm exterior. With a firm but kind hand, he grabbed the reins and began leading the Shire back toward the wagon. The girls, watching from the distance, praised Arthur, their voices full of admiration.

Arthur led the horse back to its owner and handed over the reins. "Here... here you go." he said.

The older man beamed with gratitude, clearly relieved. "You're a gentleman, sir, a gentleman!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with appreciation.

Arthur, feeling slightly awkward at the compliment, knowing full well he was far from a gentleman, simply gave a curt nod. "No, not really... I was just.. trying to impress the women." he replied with a teasing smirk, glancing back at the girls in the wagon.

The old man chuckled at Arthur's remark. "Well, anyways, thank you."

Without another word, Arthur turned and walked back to his own wagon, shaking his head slightly at the irony of being called a "gentleman."

Arthur climbed back onto the wagon, taking over the reins once again. With a quick flick, the horses broke into a gallop, and the wagon smoothly crossed the train tracks.

"C'mon, let's go," Uncle grunted, settling back in his seat.

"To Valentine!" Karen added with enthusiasm, her voice carrying over the sound of the horses and the rumble of the wagon. The group set off toward the town, the sun shining down on them as the journey continued.

"You're turning into a regular old fairy godmother there, Arthur." Uncle commented in his gruff yet teasing tone.

Arthur scrunched his nose slightly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Before Uncle could answer, Mary-Beth, who had been listening in, cut in with a smile. "It means you've got a heart. A small one, perhaps, hidden deep inside, but a real one. And you haven't, you repulsive old lizard."

Arthur let out a huff at the playful insult aimed at Uncle. Uncle, however, wasn't too happy and turned his upper body to glare at Mary-Beth. "Lizards have hearts!" he shot back, sounding a little offended.

Arthur brought the wagon to a halt as a train sat in the station at Valentine, its whistle sounding loudly, signalling that it was about to move.

"Well, Arthur, I'm proud of you." Mary-Beth said with a smile. Arthur's lips twitched upward slightly in response.

As the train began to roll forward, Arthur gripped the reins a bit tighter and gave the horses a gentle flick to get them moving again. "To be honest, if you lot hadn't been here... I probably woulda robbed him." Arthur admitted with a smirk.

As the train cleared the path and the wagon picked up into a trot, entering the small town of Valentine, the girls and Uncle burst into chuckles at Arthur's candid remark. The mood was light as they rolled into the bustling town. "Well, you didn't!" replied Mary-Beth, still giggling.

"Smell those sheep," Tilly commented as they rode into Valentine, the scent of livestock in the air.

"Or is that Uncle?" Karen teased with a smirk, glancing over at him.

Uncle chuckled, shaking his head. "Very funny," he replied, clearly used to their jabs but taking it in stride. The light banter continued as they rolled further into town, the unfamiliar sights and sounds of Valentine surrounding them.

"This looks like a decent town." Mary-Beth observed, nodding her head in approval as they rode through Valentine.

Tilly, glancing around, nodded in agreement. "Other people... finally." she muttered, relief in her voice. After weeks being cooped up in Colter's snowy mountains, it was a welcome sight to see other folks, have new faces to interact with, and scope out fresh opportunities for the gang.

In front of them, the distant mountains loomed, still capped with snow. "Look at all that snow on the mountains. Sure don't wanna be back up there." Mary-Beth added, voicing what everyone was thinking.

Arthur silently agreed, remembering the bitter cold that nearly drove them all mad.

"You think we should've asked Molly to come with us?" Tilly asked thoughtfully, breaking the moment of quiet.

Karen snorted, "Oh no, Miss O'Shea is far too high and mighty for the likes of us."

Uncle nudged Arthur with his elbow. "Go left here, down the main street. Sheriff's office on the right. Sure you can pick up some bounties there, Arthur."

Arthur followed Uncle's direction, guiding the horses down the main street as they passed the bustling town. The unfamiliar sights of Valentine began to unfold before them.

"Heaven forbid you put your head on the line." Uncle snorted, laughing at Arthur. The sound was a curious mix of a pig and a hyena. "That's a young man's game."

They were now riding slowly through the middle of the town.

"Oh yes, we can get up to some mischief here alright." Karen said excitedly.

Arthur scanned the surroundings, staying vigilant. "Just remember to keep a low profile." he reminded them. They didn't need any more lawmen on their tails, and getting on the town's bad side could eventually lead them to the camp. After all, the camp was close to town.

"Will you remember that though, Arthur?" Karen asked in a teasing manner.

Arthur smirked at her. "Probably not."

"Let's park up down the end there, near the stables." Uncle pointed out, and Arthur steered the wagon toward the indicated spot. It seemed like a decent place. He turned the wagon to the right, guiding the horses into position. Once parked, everyone began to disembark.

"Alright! Here we are, just like I said. The cultural center of civilization. Man at its finest." Uncle chuckled as the three girls stood up and carefully jumped off the wagon, trying to avoid splashing too much mud on their clothes.

"Uncle, what are we doing?" Arthur asked, finally getting off the wagon and looking up at Uncle, who was still seated, leaning with one arm on the backrest.

"Well, we're gonna do what any self-respecting maniac does... put the women to work." Uncle replied with a grin, slowly getting off the wagon.

The three girls laughed at Uncle's comment. Karen spoke up with a playful tone, "With pleasure... we'll start at the saloon."

"Okay, just stay outta trouble and don't get yourselves noticed." Arthur reminded the girls, but the warning was also meant for himself and Uncle. The group split up, with Uncle and Arthur heading toward the general store. The store was well-stocked, with plenty of goods, including real food, which was a welcome sight.

Arthur walked over to the catalogue book by the cashier and began browsing through it, searching for something new. He found a black button-up shirt that caught his eye, along with a pair of newer, fancier pants—perfect for riding, since his current ones were old and starting to get holes in them. He also spotted some see-through gloves, took them too, and selected a black vest with intricate engravings to complete the look.

Satisfied with the clothes, Arthur moved on to the dry goods section of the catalogue. He picked out some food for his horse and grabbed a new package of cigarettes, treating himself to a cigar as well before finishing up his shopping.

"Okay, if you're done, I'll meet you outside. I won't be too long." said Uncle.

Arthur closed the catalogue and walked outside, sitting on the bench in front of the store, under the large window. He crossed his arms, waiting, his eyes scanning the town. It was busy enough—people going about their business, the usual hustle and bustle.

Moments later, the wooden door creaked open, and out came Uncle, strolling over with a bottle in his hand. He took a few gulps as he approached Arthur, then extended his arm with a grin. "Here's to your good health, my sir." Uncle said, handing Arthur the bottle.

Arthur loosened one arm and took the bottle, taking a swig himself as Uncle sat down next to him.

"It's a funny world," Uncle started as Arthur glanced across the street and spotted Karen holding hands with a man, leading him toward the hotel. Arthur took another swig from the bottle.

"This time in my career, I pictured myself being married to an heiress." Uncle continued with a chuckle. Arthur handed the bottle back to him, their easy back-and-forth of drinking continuing.

They kept passing the bottle between them, each taking a drink until, eventually, Arthur closed his eyes for a moment, letting the weight of the day settle in as they sat in comfortable silence.

"Gentlemen," Mary-Beth's voice interrupted Arthur's brief rest, and he opened his eyes to see her walking toward them with a gleam of excitement in her eyes.

"I think I got something good," she said.

Arthur raised one eyebrow, silently urging her to continue.

"I snuck into this fancy house... acted like a servant girl... usually works. Someone was saying her sister was taking a trip... from New York or some place. Train full of rich tourists, heading to Saint Denis and then cruising off to Brazil."

"Okay," Arthur mumbled, considering the details. It could potentially be worth something. "A train laden with baggage, passing through a bit of deserted country at night," Mary-Beth added, smoothly gliding her hand in the air as she described it.

Arthur smiled, nodding in agreement. This was shaping up to be something good, indeed. He glanced over at Uncle, who was also nodding and grinning, clearly on board with the idea.

Mary-Beth continued, "As to get to the docks in time for the tides, in some place called Scarlett Meadows."

Arthur followed her words, nodding thoughtfully as he rubbed at his freshly shaved chin. The plan was starting to take shape in his mind—this could definitely turn into a big score.

Uncle wiggled his index finger, a knowing expression crossing his face. "Yeah, I know it... Yeah, yeah, it's right out near New Hanover. Real quiet out there." he said, looking at Arthur, who was deep in thought.

A quiet place with rich folks on a train? It sounded real good. Arthur nodded, the plan solidifying in his mind. He glanced back up at Mary-Beth, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Sounds good." he agreed.

"Where's Tilly and Karen?" Arthur asked instead, seeing only Mary-Beth here, with them.

"I think they're at the hotel... They were picking up some drunken fellers they were gonna rob." Mary-Beth replied casually.

Arthur snapped his head toward her, his voice rising slightly. "Why?" he asked, the hint of worry clear in his tone.

Mary-Beth shrugged, trying to reassure him. "It seemed easy."

Arthur sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. Mary-Beth glanced around, her own concern starting to show. "They have been gone for quite a while."

It might seem easy to rob a couple of drunken men, but Arthur knew better. Some drunks could turn mean, and in a world where women were often seen as less capable, it wasn't hard to imagine those men thinking they could get away with something. He'd seen it before. Hell, he wasn't an aggressive drunk himself—more foolish than anything—but not everyone was the same. Some folks got emotional, others went quiet, and some got real violent. The thought of one of those men putting their hands on Karen or Tilly, thinking they could do whatever they pleased, made Arthur's blood simmer. The world was hard enough for women without adding a couple of drunken idiots into the mix.

"I guess I'll go see if there's any trouble." Arthur said, standing up from the bench. He took a step forward, but Mary-Beth was quicker, grabbing his arm.

"Oh, there's Tilly over there," she pointed across the street. Arthur turned his head and saw it—Tilly, with some feller pulling at her in an aggressive way. The man grabbed her shoulder and shoved her against the wall.

"That does not look ideal." Mary-Beth mumbled, concern clear in her voice.

Arthur's jaw tightened. "Excuse me." he muttered, already walking towards Tilly and the stranger.

Halfway across the street, Arthur could hear the heated exchange.

"You thought I wouldn't find you, Tilly?" the man growled, his face close to hers.

Tilly, defiant as ever, snapped back, "You can kiss a damn snake for all I care! Get off me!"

Arthur quickened his pace, his boots thudding against the ground. As he reached the small steps leading up to them, he saw Tilly still trying to shove the man off, struggling against his grip.

"Get your hands off her, friend," Arthur ordered, his voice calm but firm. The man whipped his head around to face him, still holding onto Tilly's shoulder. Tilly's eyes flicked to Arthur, relief washing over her expression, knowing she wasn't alone anymore.

"Who the hell are you?" the man spat, his grip tightening slightly.

Arthur's response was as steady as ever. "A friend of mine." Tilly answered, her voice laced with anger and defiance.

Without wasting another second, Arthur pulled out his gun, aiming it squarely at the man. His voice dropped low, lethal. "Get off of her."

The man's eyes widened, recognizing the threat immediately. He let go of Tilly, stepping back cautiously, now focusing his attention on Arthur.

"Or what, exactly?" The man sneered, clearly trying to push his luck. Arthur, unamused by the challenge, didn't hesitate. He drew his gun again, this time stepping in closer, making his presence and intent clear. "You wanna find out?" Arthur's voice was calm but carried a deadly edge, one eyebrow raised in warning.

The man glanced between Tilly and Arthur, weighing his options. His bravado faltered. Finally, he took a step back, glaring at Tilly before pointing a finger at her. "You're making a big mistake, Tilly Jackson." he growled, his tone laced with venom. But he knew better than to press further.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, disappearing into the crowd. Arthur, satisfied the threat was gone, holstered his gun with a swift motion, his eyes still following the man until he was out of sight.

"Go wait with Uncle and Mary-Beth, they're across the street," Arthur said, his voice steady. Tilly gave him a grateful nod. "Okay, thanks, Arthur."

Arthur turned his gaze toward the hotel where Tilly had been harassed, then at Uncle across the street still sitting on the bench. "Uncle! Look after her. I'm gonna go see about Karen in the hotel." he called out as he began striding toward the hotel entrance, ready to deal with whatever situation awaited inside.

Arthur walked inside, heading straight for the counter where a bearded man with glasses stood. "Can I help you, sir?" the man asked immediately. Arthur ignored him, his focus set on the stairs.

"Sir?" the man repeated, his voice more insistent, but Arthur kept walking, almost at the top now. He heard the man shout after him, "No trouble now, please!" Arthur, still silent, scanned the hallway at the top of the stairs.

He turned left first, trying the door, but it was locked. He turned back, heading to the right side where there were more rooms. He pushed open one door but was completely unprepared for what he saw.

There was a man on the toilet, clearly in the middle of his business. "Oh, get the hell out of here, will you?" the man shouted angrily. Arthur immediately raised his hands in defense.

"Sorry... wrong room." he muttered, quickly closing the door behind him.

Arthur quickly walked over to the next room, hearing muffled voices behind the door. As he got closer, a woman's scream rang out, "Get off of me!"—Karen's voice, unmistakable. He grabbed the doorknob, twisting it, but it was locked. Inside, the man shouted back at her, "I'm getting what I paid for!"

Frustration flared inside Arthur, and without hesitation, he took a step back and kicked the door open with a forceful bang. "Hey!" he shouted, his eyes locking onto the man, who was trying to force himself on Karen.

Karen was on the floor, looking helpless and furious. The sight enraged Arthur even more.

Startled yet annoyed, the man glared at Arthur. "Who are you?" he asked, clearly not expecting the interruption.

"A friend of hers." Arthur replied, his voice calm but the storm inside him anything but. He was itching to break this man's face, his fingers practically twitching to throw a punch. The man, clearly drunk and unsteady on his feet, sneered back at Arthur, his words slurring slightly. "Get outta here, buddy, I paid."

Karen, seeing the man's focus shift entirely to Arthur, took the chance to crawl a little farther away, creating some distance. Arthur kept his eyes locked on the man, his voice growing colder. "Ain't paid to hit her. You goddamn animal."

Arthur braced himself as the man lunged at him, but with one swift punch to the jaw, he easily knocked the man out cold—permanently. The body slumped lifelessly to the floor, a clear sign Arthur had hit harder than he'd intended. But he didn't regret it. He glanced over at Karen, who was standing by the dresser, looking a bit shaken but still defiant.

"What the hell were you doing here?" Arthur asked, his tone filled with frustration as he knelt by the man's body, searching his pockets for anything worth looting.

"Trying to play him. Not very well." Karen admitted, wiping the blood from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.

Arthur looked up at her, noticing the faint smear of blood. "You okay?"

"Fine." Karen said, her voice steady but tired.

"You sure?" Arthur pressed, still not fully convinced.

"Yeah. Nothing... nothing to worry about, just... men, but.. stupid bastard... stupid bastard was boasting about the bank." Karen muttered, her anger bubbling just beneath the surface.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, intrigued, as he stood up and moved toward the door. "The bank?" he repeated. Karen followed closely behind him, leaving the room and the lifeless body behind them.

"Sure, I know small towns are usually a waste of time, but... this is a livestock town. There's lots of cash sometimes." Karen explained, clearly invested in the potential. Arthur nodded, still unsure, but interested. "Okay... keep investigating."

Arthur was weighing the risk against the reward. If what Karen said was true and the bank had a substantial amount of cash, it might be worth the trouble. However, if it turned out to be a small, poor bank, then robbing it wouldn't be worth the hassle. For now, he needed to know if the bank was truly loaded before making any decisions.

They were now walking down the stairs, and Arthur could hear the man again, "I hope, uh, everything's okay up there?" Arthur ignored him, focused on getting outside. He opened the door and held it for Karen, despite walking in front of her.

"Thank you, Arthur. I don't much like being saved, but... when I have to be," Karen said, her voice a mix of gratitude and reluctance.

They crossed the street, and soon Mary-Beth, Tilly, and Uncle came down the small stairs of the building under construction, joining them. Arthur looked at Karen and simply said, "I understand."

"You okay?" Tilly asked, concern evident in her voice.

Arthur placed a hand on Karen's shoulder. "Sure, he only punched me. Arthur punched him a lot harder."

Arthur looked at Karen and nodded. "Yeah. Alright then."

"Hey," started Mary-Beth, looking behind Arthur. "Who's that guy over there looking at us?"

Arthur turned his head around. They saw a formally dressed man on horseback, pointing directly at Arthur.

"Weren't you in Blackwater a few weeks back?"

"Me? No, sir. Ain't from there."

"Oh, you were. Well, I definitely saw you. With a bunch of fellers."

Arthur's under-eye twitched in irritation. "Me? No. Impossible. Listen, buddy. Come here for a minute." Arthur slowly turned his whole body around to face the man, who was a few meters back.

"I saw you..."

"Come here."

"Come on, get!" The man kicked his horse, and the steed quickly turned around, galloping away. Arthur's expression darkened. He turned back to Karen, Tilly, Mary-Beth, and Uncle. Uncle glanced between the fleeing figure and Arthur, concern etched on his face. "I don't like this."

Arthur nodded in agreement. "Me neither. Go get the girls home. I'm gonna have a word with our friend." He approached a nearby horse and mounted it with practised ease. "Be careful, Arthur." Tilly called out.

"Just a word." Arthur assured her as he spurred the horse into motion.

Arthur heard a shout behind him, "Hey! That's my horse!" He muttered a curse under his breath. "Just borrowing it..." Spurring the horse, Arthur followed the man as he zigzagged through the streets, cutting across alleyways and even a barn. Arthur grimaced when the horse accidentally trampled a chicken underfoot, but he kept going. The man was heading out of town, fast approaching a cliff's edge.

The man kept shouting, claiming he didn't want any trouble, but Arthur wasn't buying it. If he didn't want trouble, he wouldn't have called Arthur out in front of the whole town. They reached the cliff, and the man's horse suddenly halted, causing its rider to tumble forward. He rolled, barely managing to catch the edge of the cliff with his hands. Arthur slowed his horse, stopping just short of the ledge. Dismounting, he approached the man, looking down at him as he clung to the cliff's edge.

Arthur stared down at the man, his expression cold and unmoved. "Why you telling lies about me?" he asked, his voice calm but laced with suspicion.

The man's eyes widened with desperation as he shook his head furiously. "No, no! I-I-I got it wrong, partner... I got it very wrong! Now, please, help me up!"

Arthur ignored the man's pleas, still steady in his stance. "I ain't never been in Blackwater.." he said, his voice even, as if he was talking about the weather.

The man, struggling to maintain his grip on the cliff, stammered, "Then why are you chasing me?"

Arthur's face hardened into a small, grim smirk. "I've got an unfortunate face."

The man groaned, his strength failing. "Yes, yes... me too... Now please, pull me up, please!"

Arthur glanced at the man's hands, barely holding on. It'd be easy to let him fall, to silence him for good. But for now, he waited, letting the man dangle just a little longer.

Arthur stood there, weighing his options. He could let this feller fall—end it right here and now, no more lies to chase him down. Or, he could finish the job quick by stepping on the man's fingers, letting gravity take care of the rest. But there was a problem: too many damn witnesses. The town had seen Arthur chasing this man, and that horse he "borrowed" sure didn't help matters. If the body turned up at the bottom of the cliff, someone might start connecting the dots.

The law was already sniffing too close for comfort, and Arthur didn't need them linking him to another killing, not here. Not now. Letting the man fall could stir up even more trouble, maybe even enough for the law to track him back to camp—and that was the last thing they needed.

But then again, if this man lived, he might go running his mouth about spotting Arthur Morgan, about Blackwater. Another risk. Arthur had done his best to convince him he had the wrong man, but folks like this weren't always the sharpest knives in the drawer. Still, the risk of trouble right now outweighed the long-term danger.

"Dammit," Arthur muttered under his breath. Reluctantly, he reached out his hand to the man. "Alright.. Come on.."

The man clung to Arthur's hand like it was his last chance at life, and with a grunt, Arthur hauled him up over the cliff's edge. Once the man was safe, he rolled onto his back, gasping for breath. Arthur stood over him, his expression unreadable as he looked down at the poor bastard.

"You okay, partner?" Arthur asked, though his voice lacked much sympathy.

The man groaned, pushing himself up onto his knees. "No... no, I am not. I'm a mess."

He placed his hands on his knees, wheezing, trying to suck in as much air as he could.

Arthur nodded, watching him closely. "Well, you ain't dead." There was a hint of dry humour in his tone, but not enough to put the man at ease.

"There is that..." the man straightened himself up and looked at Arthur, extending a hand covered in a white glove. "Jimmy Brooks."

Arthur didn't take the hand, nor did he offer his own name. His gaze stayed fixed on Jimmy, a silent but clear signal he wasn't interested in pleasantries. "I think it's best for both of us if we pretend this never happened."

Jimmy nodded, awkwardly pulling his hand back to his side. "Oh, I agree." He pointed at Arthur, his tone suddenly brightening. "You saved my life. You're a good man and I, err... here."

Jimmy started patting down the sides of his formal suit, clearly searching for something. Arthur stood there, arms crossed, waiting, unsure of where this was going but keeping his guard up.

"You want a pen?" Jimmy asked, pulling out a shiny steel pen and holding it up in Arthur's face. "It's one of them steel ones."

Arthur glanced at the pen. It was a fine one—shiny and expensive. Steel pens weren't cheap, and Arthur wasn't about to pass up something valuable like that.

"Oh.." Arthur took the pen, giving it a quick look before shoving it into his satchel. "That's very kind of you. But I'm not a good man, Jimmy Brooks... not usually."

He stepped in closer, his presence suddenly looming over the nervous man. His voice dropped, and his eyes hardened as he leaned in. "You see... Iwasin Blackwater. I kill people... and maybe I shoulda killed you. Should I have killed you, Jimmy Brooks?"

The man's eyes widened in fear, his voice shaky. "Me..? I n-never saw you... Not—not now, not—not ever. I think we have an understanding?"

Arthur smiled, nodding at Jimmy. "Of course we do, Jimmy Brooks." He gave the man's arm a pat, a gesture that seemed friendly but carried a clear warning. "I will remember that."

Jimmy chuckled nervously, unsure if Arthur was letting him off the hook or making a promise. Arthur tapped the side of his head, his smirk lingering. "I've got a good memory."

"I haven't... I haven't! Not—not one lick! Not... one sense in this here old mind!" Jimmy babbled, his voice trembling as he quickly stumbled to his horse and mounted it, clearly eager to get away from Arthur.

Arthur watched him for a moment, his expression neutral. Once Jimmy rode off, Arthur mounted the horse he'd borrowed. He figured it was time to return the animal to its rightful owner—no sense causing any more trouble today than he already had.

When Arthur returned to Valentine, a voice rang out from near the public hanging platform. "Hey! My horse!"

Arthur cantered over to the man, slowing the horse to a stop. He dismounted smoothly, handing the reins back. "Here's your horse back, friend."

The man nodded, relief flooding his face. "Oh, you really were just borrowing it!"

Arthur gave a simple nod in return. "Appreciate it."