"Hey son." Arthur greeted.

"Oh, hey there Pa–" Ethan teased, handing Arthur a plate.

"Get any sleep?"

"A little - not as much as I would've liked though."

"Well if it's any consolation, ya look good for someone who was shot at last night."

Ethan mumbled as he walked to the fallen logs that faced the horizon. The view was certainly one of the best, if not the best, they had in a long time.

"We had some trouble out there, did John tell you that?"

"No, but Sean won't stop talkin' about the heist–" Arthur shook his head. "What happened?"

"Well…the law came. There weren't many of 'em at first, maybe less than a dozen, but it was like they were waiting for us."

"You think John's said something?"

"Doubt it," Ethan said confidently. "He planned the heist, so he wouldn't blab."

"At least the pay was good, right?"

"Oh yeah, definitely–" He blushed as he looked down at his bowl of stew. "I was planning to take Mary-Beth to Valentine with my cut."

"Oh really?" Arthur questioned, completely unfazed.

"What do you think about that?"

"I guess if she doesn't mind your smell," Arthur teased. "If we weren't wanted there, I'd tell you to go to Strawberry. It's a lot nicer."

"Yeah, well it used to be until two grumpy outlaws destroyed it–"

"Alright, alright, knock it off."

Ethan chuckled. "So how'd it go with Strauss?"

"Eh, not so good–" Arthur heaved a sigh. "I couldn't get the money."

"What happened?"

"He loaned money to a sick farmer; they'd have to sell everything just short of themselves to pay it back–"

"Strauss must've known that?"

"Well, that's the thing…he said they're the easiest people to borrow from, because they're so desperate they'll take from anyone."

"That's bullshit!" Ethan spat. "He's just taking advantage of them."

"I know he is," He heaved a sigh. "If everyone he lent to was gambling debts with wealthy people, maybe we'd be out West again. But at the end of the day, it's Dutch's call, not ours."

Ethan stood up and walked to the food wagon, where he deposited his dirty plate in the sudsy water. Arthur followed behind him with his own dirty dishes.

By this time, Micah had returned to camp after hiding out on the outskirts of Strawberry. The incident in town prevented him from traveling, even at night. He either found someone to pay his bounty for him, or he found a way around the town.

"Speak of the devil." Ethan muttered.

"Father and son - good to see ya again!" Micah barked a laugh. "I was hoping to see you guys on the rescue committee, but it looks like you guys had more important things to do."

"You're lucky they rescued you at all after the shit you got yourself into–" Ethan reminded.

"Yeah if I was a little later, they would've hung you."

"Well golly, you two just about tugged on my heartstrings," He mocked, clutching his chest. "Watch yer mouth, little Morgan, or you'll get a bullet right between your two front teeth."

Arthur moved in front of Ethan. "Don't you ever fucking talk to my son like that again, or you'll be sorry!"

Micah tossed his head back with a laugh, as he sauntered away.

"Asshole." Ethan muttered.

"That he is."

"Arthur, Ethan," Abigail greeted. "I heard what happened last night, glad you're okay."

Ethan shoved his hands in his front pockets. "Thanks. Uh, John told you?"

"No, he fell asleep, but the rumor mill was runnin' hot all morning."

Arthur scoffed. "Not surprised."

"You two seem to be getting along well?" Abigail wondered aloud.

"Yeah? I didn't even notice."

Ethan shook his head. "Thanks, I guess."

"So, can I ask one of you a favor?"

"Eh probably not, I'm terribly busy today–" Ethan smirked.

"Very funny," Abigail rolled her eyes. "Will one of you do something with Jack? He seems kind of down. All this upheaval ain't been easy on him."

"Why? Because I'm your preferred nursemaid?" Arthur questioned.

"Because he likes you both and, well–" She shrugged. "You know his father's useless."

Ethan loved John dearly, even looked up to him as an uncle, and he knew his father looked to him like a brother, but they both knew he was a terrible father to Jack.

"I'll do it." Ethan volunteered.

"Nah, I'll do it–" Arthur offered. "I forgot to tell you, but Hosea wanted some help with something; he left for Emerald Ranch not too long ago."

"Alrighty then. You gonna be okay today?"

"Yeah, I'll take Jack fishing, the river ain't far from here."

"Sounds good. Have fun."

Arthur would have his afternoon with Jack while Ethan returned to the trails at Hosea's request. It seemed like the perfect day, even if they weren't spending it together. The young outlaw rode out to the heartlands, traversing the vast plains at a leisurely pace. He enjoyed the solitude, but he mostly enjoyed getting out in nature. Ironic considering they lived outdoors; this nature was entirely different. By mid-afternoon, Emerald Ranch came into view. Ethan trotted Gray through the quaint settlement, searching for his mentor. And lo and behold, there he was sitting with a bald man wearing an apron.

"That's an interesting way of putting it, Seamus."

Ethan slowed Gray down near the corral, slid off and tied him to the hitch.

"Oh no doubt, I do interesting very well," Seamus exclaimed. "It's trusting that I don't do so well."

"Ah, young Ethan–" Hosea greeted. "This is Seamus, our new partner."

"I ain't no such thing."

"Prospective new partner, if he likes us."

"Liking ain't the problem, trusting is," Seamus reminded. "Keep your voices down...I don't want my boss hearing. This is a side line."

Hosea laughed. "Look at us, honest as the day is long."

"Exactly."

"Why don't you let us prove ourselves? You don't like us, you don't have to commit to anything."

Ethan knew Hosea was bullshitting Seamus; he was a con artist after all, but decided to play along.

"Really?" Seamus said. "Have you got what it takes, boy?"

"Sure, why not."

"He's one of the good ones," Hosea assured. "You can trust us….I swear it."

"I'm an old man–"

Hosea chuckled. "You're not old, Seamus, because we're about the same age."

"I'm old enough, and you know why I ain't dead yet?"

"You don't trust idiots."

"Exactly."

"Well we're not idiots, so let us prove it to you–"

Seamus eyed Hosea and then Ethan. "Okay, alright, I tell you what…old Bob Crawford and his boys just bought a beautiful stolen stagecoach from upstate. It's in the barn–"

Ethan nodded. "I see where this is going."

"Good, now you can go get it–" Seamus ordered, then turned to Hosea. "And then we can work together."

"Who's old Bob Crawford?"

"An acquaintance of mine."

"So you want us to take out your competition?" Ethan asked.

"Well, he's not just an acquaintance, but a cousin by marriage. I also want to see if you boys got what it takes. Now, you survive that–"

"Where is he?" Hosea asked.

"He's in a house northwest of here called Carmody Dell. It's just up near the tracks as you're heading towards Fort Wallace."

"I know the place." Ethan assured.

"There's money in that house too, but that's your business, not mine - just don't kill anybody. Folks know we ain't intimate no more, and they'll know it was me."

"And you're fine with us robbing your cousin?"

"By marriage," Seamus reminded. "And yes, I'd love it."

Hosea waved his hand. "Well, you heard the man, let's go rob his cousin."

"By marriage!"

Ethan chuckled to himself as he and Hosea mounted up. They made sure to take it slow in town, not wanting to rouse up dust and rocks and irritate the town folk anymore than they probably were. And once they were out of ear shot, Ethan turned to Hosea. "Are we really gonna partner with him?"

"Hm? Oh, of course not - we'll steal this fools coach, return it to 'ol Seamus, get paid and be on our way. It's an easy job."

Ethan would never admit it out loud, but he enjoyed Hosea's antics. Not everyone did though, because he actually had them working. They quickly fell into a comfortable silence, which gave both of them some time to think and talk when needed; nothing was forced. Ethan felt that way with his pa sometimes.

"Seamus mentioned the rancher's daughter a few times. He used to see her around, but she never leaves the house now; probably just sweet on her."

"I thought you said you'd only done a little research–" Ethan teased.

"Once he opens up, Seamus likes to talk."

"Sounds like it–" Ethan breathed. "Glad to see the bear encounter didn't kill ya, old man."

"Well someone had to survive it. If I had died, you all wouldn't know what to do with your lives; probably bang each other's heads together for fun."

"Heh, you think?"

"Yeah," Hosea nodded. "And your pa's got the hardest head of them all."

"You might be right about that."

The duo fell into silence for a while, riding along the trails, enjoying each other's company. It wasn't everyday they experienced solitude or one on one time with something special. And Hosea was very special to Ethan; he was like another father to him.

"How are things with Mary-Beth?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Yes–" Hosea chuckled. "And it was very obvious at Sean's party the other night."

Ethan shrugged. "I don't really know how to put it into words, but if I could…it's that feeling you get when you're thinking about someone all day, you go home and you finally see them. It's like a breath of fresh air, candy and a nice hot bath all rolled into one. You know what I mean?"

"I do," Hosea smiled. "I was once a married man, and if how you feel is true, then everything will be okay."

Ethan smiled as he remembered Bessie; Hosea's late wife. She was the kind and protective mother of a bunch of degenerates, while Miss Grimshaw was the authoritative figure.

"She was the best–" Hosea reminisced. "When you find a woman you're willing to leave everything behind for, you know she's the one."

And somehow, Ethan knew Mary-Beth was that woman. Up ahead Carmody Dell sat and they quickly turned off the road, near a patch of trees, where they surveyed the homestead. It was small, quaint and away from most of civilization.

"Hopefully there's not too many people to deal with–" Ethan worried.

"We'll deal with it as it comes, just don't let anyone leave–" He instructed. "I see two floors. The barn's in the back, stagecoach has to be in there."

"See anyone around?"

"Just a few–" Hosea heaved a sigh. "I'll head over, distract 'em by putting on a little show while you sneak into the house. Take what you can, then get the coach. Or...we can wait until nightfall, sneak in, then get the coach. What do you think?"

"Hm," Ethan pondered, as he watched the setting sun. "Maybe we'll have better luck with them asleep. They're farmers, they go to bed early. Let's wait."

Ethan reached in his pocket for two freshly rolled cigarettes; he offered one to Hosea.

"At least you don't have a hard head like the others."

They took advantage of the time they had until night fell; taking a nap or two, cleaning their weapons, surveying the area some more. It was boring, but once the sun went down, things got exciting.

"Okay, let's go–" Hosea whispered.

Ethan woke up from his short nap, stood and followed Hosea.

"You take the house, I'll go for the coach."

Ethan hurried to the back, cautiously approaching the door. He crouched down and turned the knob; it creaked open and he slipped inside. From what he could already see, it was an oddly designed home, which meant more places to hide things. To his immediate left was a chest of drawers. He found a few things that may have been worth something and pocketed them. He slipped from room to room and appropriated the belongings of the relatives of Seamus….by marriage, of course.

Ethan's nerves came to life on a few occasions, namely when he heard the man moving in his bed, and when another coughed.

When all quieted down, he pocketed a few tonics, ammo and jewelry before continuing upstairs, where the farmer slept. He was extremely careful when entering the room and opening drawers, but the man's snoring was enough to drown out the noise, making Ethan question how it was even possible.

Glancing through the window, the young outlaw saw Hosea waiting with the stagecoach. He didn't have time to waste, he had to continue his pillaging; there was only a small sum of money missing, which he assumed was hidden somewhere. After taking all that he could upstairs, Ethan went back downstairs and began rummaging behind the small pictures on the fireplace mantle, the pictures on the wall, behind the curtains - everywhere he could.

Feeling as if the sitting room was too obvious, he moved to the kitchen and began going through the cupboards, the fireplace mantle, and any boxes he might've found. The young outlaw suddenly felt something behind a large metal lockbox on the mantle, in a small cubby cut into the fireplace.

He had to admit, it was a pretty decent hiding place, but not good enough. After pocketing the money, Ethan hurried out the front door and to stagecoach; Gray and Silver Dollar followed behind them. Like the true professionals they were, they stayed as quiet as possible as they drove away from the homestead.

Hosea expelled a deep sigh. "I think we got everything we needed tonight - good call on doing it while they slept."

"You should have seen them all inside–" Ethan chuckled. "His cousin was snoring so bad, I swear it sounded like a bear."

"No trouble?" Hosea asked.

"I thought one of them was gonna wake up. It would've been bad too, he had his revolver on the bedside table."

"Ha! I bet your heart was pounding in your ears?"

He shrugged. "Just another part of the life we lead."

"I tried to leave this life with Bessie once, but I was back before long. It's like a damn drug."

"Really? I don't remember that."

"That's because you weren't born yet," Hosea explained. "I thought about living the quiet life, raising a family and tending to a farm, but it wasn't for me...So uh, did you find anything useful?"

"About a hundred in bills, not bad."

"Certainly well done, son," Hosea praised. "An easy night with no problems is what I like to hear."

"And no bears." Ethan teased.

"You're a comedian like your father."

"Almost like him, but I do try–" He smirked. "Hey, any chance I can keep the money?"

"You plan on running away with Mary-Beth?" Hosea teased. "Sorry son, but it has to go to the camp. We have to start saving if we want to leave."

"And where will we go next?"

"That remains to be seen."

"Dutch must have an idea?"

"Are you worried?" Hosea asked. "I still remember the talk the other day with you and Lenny–"

"I can't help but worry, Hosea."

"You're just like your father–" Hosea chuckled. "I know it's hard, but don't worry, we'll be okay."

Ethan and Hosea arrived back at Emerald Ranch just after midnight, and pulled the stolen stagecoach up to the barn, where Seamus awaited them.

"We met your cousins." Hosea announced.

"And - how was it?"

"Fine people they are."

"Deep sleepers too." Ethan smirked.

Seamus paid them for the stagecoach and agreed on a partnership. Ethan and Hosea glanced at each other knowing they had succeeded in their mission. The cousin, by marriage, would obviously know it was Seamus that stole his stagecoach, he said so himself that they weren't on good terms, so it was only a matter of time. And by the time it was found out, Ethan and Hosea would be back at camp.

"I'm heading back. Are you coming, Ethan?"

"Yeah, sure. I don't have anything else to do–" He mounted Gray. "Hey, uh, thanks for the advice."

"Don't mention it," Hosea replied. "Take care of Mary-Beth, she's a good girl."

Ethan nodded and together they trotted their horses down the road; their destination….home.