Chapter Text
Arthur spent the first few days after returning to camp being pulled in several directions at once. Dutch was trying to plan the robbery of a stagecoach coming through town, supposedly carrying a very wealthy woman to her relatives’ home in Denver. Then there was Susan insisting upon Arthur making up for his days away from camp by constantly nagging him to feed the horses or do laundry. Not that he minded doing chores, but now he had other priorities, mainly his son who followed him around like a shadow.
“Mr. Morgan!” Speaking of Miss Grimshaw, Arthur managed not to roll his eyes as he turned to greet her. When Susan Grimshaw joined their tiny gang not long after Arthur himself, she had originally been appalled by how they lived. Arthur never thought it was as bad as she proclaimed, but compared to how they lived now, they’d been slobs. Hosea was the only one who ever bothered to clean or organize, but not to Miss Grimshaw’s standards.
“Yes, Miss Grimshaw?”
“I noticed our water barrel is running low. You need to stay on top of these things.”
Arthur sighed. He had just found a little time to sit down. Quickly looking around camp, his eyes fell on John, currently occupied with poking a stick into some mud. “Make John fill it up.”
“Mr. Marston has already chopped firewood and brushed the horses. It’s your turn. Go on now! I’ll watch the boy, come on Isaac,” she said, reaching her hand out.
“No!” Isaac shouted, grabbing the bottom of Arthur’s coat.
“What do you mean, no? None of that, now. Come here.” She reached again, but Isaac twisted away, still keeping his grip on Arthur’s coat.
“No!”
“Mr. Morgan, you need to teach that boy some manners,” Susan chided, but didn’t try to grab Isaac’s hand.
“I’ll figure out what’s wrong. And get the water, don’t worry,” Arthur replied before kneeling down next to Isaac. “Alright, Isaac, what’s going on? Why won’t you go with Susan?”
“I don’t like her. She’s mean.”
Arthur fought hard not to snicker and remember that his son was upset. “Now why do you think she’s mean?”
“She yells all the time.”
“She’s not yelling to be mean, at least I don’t think she is. She yells a lot because she’s spends all her time around fools who don’t listen to her.”
“But Mama says people yell when they’re mad.”
“I suppose they do,” Arthur said. “But Susan can be nice once you get to know her. And I do need to go fill up the water, so will you go with Susan?” Isaac shook his head no. “How about Bessie? She’s in that tent over there.” Isaac nodded. “Go on, now. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He waited until Isaac made it all the way to Hosea and Bessie’s tent without getting distracted. Only then did he go to the creek for water.
Susan was waiting at the water barrel when he returned. “What is wrong with that boy?” she asked.
“Leave him be,” Arthur said. “He’s been through a lot.”
“That doesn’t mean he gets to be disrespectful.”
“He’s four.”
“He likes Bessie well enough,” she muttered.
“Are you jealous, Miss Grimshaw?” Arthur asked. She slapped the back of his head and walked away as he laughed.
With Isaac occupied for the moment, Arthur looked around camp for more chores to get Susan off his case. There was a pile of dishes that could be done now that they had water. He started scrubbing, keeping an eye on the tent flap.
“Arthur! There you are!” Dutch waved him over from his own tent. Arthur put the plate down and joined him. “I’m just finalizing plans for this stagecoach. You, me, and Hosea should be enough. Now, it will just be the woman, the driver, and one guard. They are staying in town for one night before heading to Denver, so I was thinking about setting a trap in this wooded area near this turn.” Dutch pointed out a secluded part of the road on the map, the perfect place for an ambush.
“How did you find out about this one? Those two boys at the poker table?”
“The hotel owner. Apparently this woman has certain standards that she wants met, and sent a telegram in advance,” Dutch chuckled. “It only took a few drinks for the owner to start complaining about it.”
“So, how are we playing this?”
“I figure Hosea could step out, spin some yarn, then you and I can come from the side. They won’t have a choice but to hand over their valuables.”
Arthur hummed, looking over the map with his brow furrowed. “If Hosea’s acting, he won’t have his face covered though. He’s been in town a lot.”
“That’s why we are hitting the stagecoach after they leave town.”
“But what if they turn around to get the law? Or send word from the next town.”
“Alright, son, then what do you suggest?” Dutch sat back in his chair.
“I don’t mean to-”
“No, go ahead.”
Arthur breathed deep, wondering what Dutch was doing. Normally whenever Arthur asked questions about a plan, Dutch was quick to reassure him that the idea was flawless and he had thought of every possibility. “We could have Annabelle do the distraction. This is an older lady, right? She might stop for another woman.”
“Not bad,” Dutch said thoughtfully. “Though Anna has never done this type of robbery before.”
“She has gotten good with a pistol, if it comes to that.”
“True, let me think.”
“Think about what?” Hosea said, wandering over to them.
“Arthur had the thought that you’ve been in town too much and are too recognizable for this stagecoach, and he might have a point!” Dutch announced proudly. So that’s what it had been about? A test? “He suggested Anna do it.”
“Ah, a lady in distress?” Hosea said. “Annabelle certainly can play that role. She’d have fun with it.”
“Yes, but she did mention she was looking into something in town. Maybe there’s a better choice,” said Dutch. “What about John?”
“John? Really?” Arthur asked.
“We haven’t brought John in on jobs before,” Hosea reminded him. “He’s only fifteen.”
“We were taking Arthur on jobs when he was fifteen!”
“Yes, to pick pockets at a party or sneak around a house. Never a stagecoach!” Hosea said.
“And John’s been with us for what? Three years now? He’s a damn good shot, getting to be a decent rider, and this robbery is going to be easy. We’re going to bring him along sometime, why not now?”
Whatever complaint Hosea had was immediately ignored when a small, quivering voice behind him said, “Robbery? You’re robbers?”
The fear in Isaac’s words stabbed through Arthur’s heart. He didn’t want to turn, didn’t want to face him, but he had to. Isaac’s eyes darted between the three of them, hoping one of them would correct themselves and set the record straight. But Dutch, in his confident, booming voice, said, “Oh, we are not simple robbers, son. We are outlaws!”
“But you steal?”
“We take from those ingrates who would enslave others and take advantage of this great nation-”
“Dutch, stop! He’s four!” Hosea said, interrupting what would likely be a long speech.
“And? He needs to understand that we are not mere criminals.”
“He’s not going to understand. You need to keep it simple.”
“This is simple!”
“Isaac?” In the seconds that Arthur was distracted, his son disappeared into camp. “Isaac!”
“Bessie?” Hosea called out. “Did you see where he went?”
“No, I’m sorry. I just noticed he followed you out.” She immediately put down her book and began looking between the tents.
“Isaac!” Arthur shouted again, but he couldn’t spot the boy anywhere.
“You just had to say that, Dutch?” Hosea said.
“How was I to know the boy would react like that?”
“His mother was killed by robbers, you fool!”
“Well I didn’t realize he didn’t know who we are!” Dutch shouted back.
“Isaac!” Where could he have gone? If he didn’t find his son… Arthur didn’t know how to finish that thought. They were in the middle of the woods, full of wildlife that could hurt a small child, and near a creek that was cold all year. Would Isaac try to run from camp?
Wait, Copper! Copper loved Isaac and rarely left his side. Where was Copper? The dog was by one of their wagons, pawing at a few crates and boxes blocking the space underneath. Arthur grabbed Hosea’s arm and pointed.
He truly didn’t know what to say to Isaac, so he was glad when Hosea took the lead, walked over to the crates, and knocked. “Can we come in?”
“Go away!”
“How about just your father? Can he come in?”
“Is he a robber?” Isaac asked, voice muffled slightly by the crates between them.
Hosea looked to Arthur. He sighed and said, “We shouldn’t lie to him.”
“Okay,” Arthur said. “It’s like Dutch said. We’re outlaws, but yeah. We rob people, sometimes.”
“Do you hurt people, too?”
Arthur pulled his hat low over his eyes and dropped his head into his hands.
“Not all outlaws are bad, you know. How about I tell you a story about a famous outlaw?” Hosea said. “You ever hear the story of Robin Hood?”
There was some sniffling from behind the crates.
“You see, Robin Hood lived all the way across the sea in the English town of Nottingham a long time ago. And in the town, there was a sheriff who forced the people to pay almost all their money to him in the name of the king. And all the people had to pay, or else the sheriff would arrest them! But after they paid him, well, they didn’t have enough money for food. Doesn’t seem fair, does it?”
Isaac’s crying hitched. “No.”
“No, it was not! And Robin didn’t think so either. Every day, Robin had to go into town and see people struggling to survive when they didn’t have to be. But what could he do? The law said he had to pay! So, Robin became an outlaw! But he didn’t steal from normal folk, just trying to get by. Do you know who he robbed?”
“Who?”
“He robbed the sheriff! There was this big stagecoach that went through town all day, collecting the money, but before it got back to the sheriff, Robin Hood jumped out from behind the trees with a mask on and his bow drawn! He took all the money, went right back to town, and gave it back to the people.”
“Really?” Isaac asked. Arthur couldn’t hear crying anymore. Even though he knew exactly where Hosea was going with this story, having heard it before, he still felt himself drawn in.
“Really!” Hosea continued. “And other folks started to hear about what he was doing and joined him. And though they were all criminals in the eyes of the sheriff, no one else saw them that way. They didn’t rob from normal folk, just trying to make ends meet. See, that’s the difference between a criminal and an outlaw. Criminals, they don’t care about anyone but themselves, and they will rob anyone. But the good outlaws like Robin Hood take from only the rich and evil men. Do you understand?”
“Yeah.”
“Your pa and me, and everyone else here, we want to be like Robin Hood. We take from the rich and give to the poor! And we try our best not to hurt no one, either. Especially not folk like your ma.”
“Promise?” asked Isaac.
Hosea looked over at Arthur expectantly. Arthur turned to the crates and said, “I promise, Isaac.”
“And I promise, too. And so does Dutch and Annabelle, Susan and John. And Bessie, well she isn’t an outlaw but she does hang out with us fools,” Hosea said with a laugh.
Isaac was still hiding but no longer crying. “You ready to come out?” Arthur asked.
Hosea added, “If you do, I bet I can tell you some stories about how me, Dutch, and your pa helped a bunch of folk.”
One of the crates shifted, and Isaac crawled out. Copper immediately jumped up and began licking Isaac’s face, much to Isaac’s equal delight and disgust. “C’mere, son,” Arthur said, holding open his arms and letting Isaac onto his lap. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”
“You really rob and help people?” Isaac asked.
“Yeah. We try to,” said Arthur.
“Ready for that story now?” Hosea asked. Isaac nodded. “Well, it was just last year, actually! We were in a small town where there was a huge orphanage with kids just like you. But the folk that ran the orphanage couldn’t buy food, or clothes, or toys for any of the kids. But in the middle of this town was a huge bank that held the money for the one rich man in town, who never helped out those kids. So me, your pa, and Dutch walked into that bank one day and I started talking with the clerk. Then Dutch told the clerk to put his hands up, because we were going to take all the gold! You know, Isaac, people will defend what is their own, be it money or property, to their dying breath. But no one wants to get hurt protecting someone else’s money! So the clerk immediately gave us what we wanted, and we took that gold and gave away to the orphanage and other poor folks around town.”
“Wow!” Isaac said, gazing at Arthur and Hosea with adoration.
“Feel better now?” Hosea asked.
“Yeah. Can I go play?”
“Of course!”
Isaac took off into camp with Copper chasing him. He went to grab a stick, but Copper jumped forward and snagged it at the last second. “Hey, no fair!” Isaac yelled after him, but one of Copper’s favorite games was keep-away, and he was determined to win.
Arthur smiled while watching them, and pulled out his journal to quickly sketch the scene. He hadn’t had the chance to draw since Eliza’s death, only giving himself the time for a quick portrait of her face and a note on what happened. It was nice to fill the pages with happier memories.
But the scratch of pencil on paper couldn’t block out Hosea’s conversation with Dutch behind the canvas.
“The boy is fine, now,” Hosea said.
“You want to tell me why you wouldn’t let me talk to him?”
“That wasn’t the time for your philosophies or Miller quotes, Dutch. Arthur and John barely understood that material when you had them reading it.”
“You think I can’t explain Miller’s concepts? Or do you not trust me to do so?” Dutch asked coldly.
“Dutch, you know I trust you, but that boy was on the verge of running away. Hell, he did run and hide from us. Thanks for the help looking, by the way.”
“You made it clear you didn’t want my help. How did you fix it, anyway?”
“I told him about Robin Hood.”
Dutch huffed. Arthur glanced back at the tent before hiding a smile behind his book. “Now, shall we discuss this stagecoach?” Dutch asked, meaning Hosea won their small argument.
“You really want to bring John in on this?”
“Why not? You know he’s been asking to be brought in on a real job.”
“But-”
“But nothing! He’s the distraction. That old woman will take one look at a kid in distress and pull over. They might not even think he’s a part of it once we come out and start robbing them!”
“And if they realize he’s part of the ruse? Do you want John to have a bounty on his head already?”
“Again, it’s going to happen one day. Why not now?” Dutch paused for a second, then decided he didn’t want to wait for Hosea’s response. “You know what? Let’s have John decide. Mr. Marston! Why don’t you come over here.”
Arthur rolled his eyes. Classic Dutch. Now the only way Hosea could win would be to disappoint John, and deal with the consequences of that.
“Mr. Marston, how would you like to run the distraction for this stagecoach robbery?” Dutch said.
“Really? I can go?” John asked.
“Of course! You’re ready, don’t you agree, Hosea?”
“I suppose,” Hosea conceded with a sigh. “But only the distraction! Keep it clean, I don’t want him to have a murder charge on his head. And I swear, Dutch van der Linde, if anything happens to him-”
“No one is going to get hurt!”
With that, Dutch began filling John in on the plan, and Hosea wandered over to Arthur. “You okay?” Arthur asked.
Hosea ignored him and leaned over his shoulder to look at his drawing, and Arthur knew he didn’t snap the journal shut in time. “That’s rather nice. You going to show him?”
The sketch of Isaac running after Copper, a stick dangling out of his mouth, was rough. Arthur frowned as he considered the hastily corrected line work, the awkward shading. “It’s alright.”
“You know, you should buy Isaac a journal and teach him how to draw. And he can practice his letters. Do you know if Eliza started teaching him to read yet?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Maybe while you guys are out on your robbery, I can distract him with the alphabet. And I think we still have some old books from teaching you and John.”
“His birthday is coming up in the fall,” Arthur said. A journal wasn’t a bad idea, especially since he was about to make some money. His mother taught him to draw, and while he didn’t think his sketches were as good as Hosea believed, maybe drawing skills did run in the family.
“October tenth, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Turning five, that’s a big deal.”
“I know, I can hardly believe it.”
Hosea let the conversation fade, but still lingered, wringing his hands and staring off into the distance.
“You sure you’re okay, Hosea?” Arthur asked again.
“Just… take care of John, alright?”
“Of course, Hosea. You know I will.”
“And you know,” Hosea began, hesitating, “you don’t have to do this robbery.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that every job is a risk, and your son just lost his mother. I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to make sure he keeps his father. I can take your place. As long as I’m not running the distraction, I can be masked up.”
Arthur had to admit that Hosea had a point. But what else was he supposed to do? This was the life he lived, and his family needed money to make it across the mountains. “It seems like a pretty safe, easy job. I’m sure it will be fine,” he said.
“I know. But please, take care of yourself, too.”
“I will.”
Finally satisfied, Hosea patted Arthur on the shoulder and returned to Bessie. But it had Arthur thinking. If something happened to him, what would happen to Isaac?