Work Text:
1885
Ever since Dutch and Hosea took in little John, Arthur’s life has been made significantly worse. The twelve-year-old would constantly run his mouth, steal Arthur’s possessions, and be an overall nuisance, not to mention the fact that Dutch was dedicating all too much time to coddling the boy instead of paying attention to Arthur as he had for eight years. Arthur was twenty-two now, and no longer needed the same level of parenting, but he still had a tight feeling in his chest whenever Dutch would tend to his other son. Arthur tried not to let the lack of his father’s attention affect him much. Besides, Hosea was always his favourite dad.
Arthur had John by the front of his shirt now, trying to stop him from stealing his goddamn horse for the third time this week. They were around the corner from their camp, Dutch and Hosea out of earshot.
“Take any more steps, and I’ll start knockin’ all your teeth out one by one.” Arthur threatened. The brim of his hat was so close to John’s face that it was nearly touching his eyebrows. John hissed at Arthur, all teeth showing, causing Arthur to jump back in surprise. He let go of John’s shirt as he blinked in shock. What in the devil was wrong with that boy?
“Idiot.” John snickered as he put his boot into the stirrup and clambered up onto the saddle of the Hungarian Half-Bred. He held a middle finger up behind him as the horse began to kick up dust.
“Marston!” Arthur bellowed at the young boy as his horse began to canter away. They didn’t get very far as Arthur had tossed his lasso around the boy’s shoulders and yanked him onto the ground in one swift pull. John yelped in pain as he hit the ground hard, coughing as he inhaled some dust.
“You’re a little shit, you know that?” Arthur sneered as he hogtied John up with the lasso. “My horse is mine. Not yours.”
“Arthur! Let me go!” John writhed as he was picked up and tossed over Arthur’s shoulder.
“Didn’t your pa teach you not to touch things that ain’t yours?” Arthur’s voice was harsh, and he considered hitting John but decided against it. John thrashed around, bashing his knees into Arthur’s body the best he could.
“My boys, what’s this about?” Dutch looked up from his Evelyn Miller book once they had turned the corner back into camp.
“He stole my horse, Dutch.” Arthur’s voice was harsh and he didn’t stop his speed, “I’m drowning him in the river.”
Dutch slammed his book down onto the table, as he got up and stormed towards his sons.
“He needs to learn what happens when he touches things that ain’t his!” Arthur explained as he continued across the camp, his eyes trained in front of him.
“Put him down.” Dutch’s tongue was sharp. “Now, Arthur.”
Arthur stopped in his spot and turned his gaze towards Dutch. There was a cold anger behind Dutch’s eyes, one that Arthur had seen many times before.
“Arthur.” Dutch repeated, his mouth in a firm line. Arthur inhaled sharply, not wavering his eye contact with Dutch as he shrugged John off his shoulder and onto the ground. John made an audible oof before coughing once or twice.
“You are a full-grown man.” Dutch began as he closed the gap between them. His voice was low, a fire bubbling up behind his words as he pushed his finger into Arthur’s chest. “He is just a boy, Arthur.”
“Dutch, he stol-“
“I do not give a goddamn shit if he stole your britches, your money, or your goddamn horse.” Dutch spat, “He is a child. Wisen up, son.”
Arthur’s lower lip quivered slightly and he could feel the sting of tears on his lower lashline. He hated disappointing Dutch, and getting yelled at by him was a catalyst to release all sorts of emotions Arthur kept locked away. He inhaled sharply before turning on his heel and storming towards his tent. Hosea was outside of his and Dutch’s tent now, a concerned look on his face. Arthur wasn’t sure when Hosea had left the tent and how much he had truly seen of the dispute.
“It’s alright, my son. I’ve got you now.” Dutch cooed as he untied the ropes from John’s limbs. Hosea gave Dutch a look of disapproval before turning his attention to Arthur.
“Arthur.” Hosea began, but Arthur didn’t look at him.
“Leave it, ‘sea.” Arthur spat before going into his tent. If he had a hinged door, he would have slammed it, so he instead angrily fastened his tent flaps before sitting on his cot. He took a few heavy breaths through his nose, still seething from the encounter.
“Can I come in, son?” Hosea’s voice rang from behind the tent flaps. Arthur didn’t respond, his head in his hands now. “Arthur?”
“Go away.” Arthur grouched, “I want to be alone.”
“Is that the truth? Or are you simply uncertain of what you need?”
Arthur was quiet for a few beats. Hosea knew him better than anyone. He sighed softly before replying. “Come on in then.”
“I thought so.” Hosea smiled softly as he opened up the tent flaps, shutting them behind him. He sat down beside Arthur on his cot, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Speak your mind. How do you feel right now, Arthur?”
“Angry.” Arthur groaned as he kicked up some rocks, “Stupid kid. I threaten to beat him daily over stealing my stuff but it won’t get through that thick skull of his.”
“He is only a boy, Arthur.”
Arthur’s eyes were trained on Hosea fully now. “You on Dutch’s side or mine?”
“I’m not on anybody’s side, per se.” Hosea began, “Simply pointing out the facts. I’m not sure John understands yet what the right thing to do is. He’s trying to get a rise out of you, and a rise he gets.”
“So, what? Am I just meant to let him get away with it?”
“No, Arthur. What I’m iterating is that it will take time for John to learn. I’m sure you recall being a bit of a thief when Dutch and I met you.”
“That was different.” Arthur grumbled, “I was stealing to feed myself, not stealing to piss someone off.”
“Do you not recall stealing Dutch’s gun when you were young? Or my spurs? Or Dutch’s money? Or my coats?”
“Give it a rest, I don’t do that shit no more.”
“You were a boy once too, Arthur.” Hosea stated, “A boy with a troubled life, unfortunately, taken in by a couple of unruly men, but we made an excellent man out of you. Let us do the same for John.”
Arthur was quiet for a few moments as he looked at his hands. “How come Dutch seems to like the boy more than me then?”
“Is that what you truly think?” Hosea’s voice was soft as his brows knitted together.
“You see him. Coddling over him like a goddamn baby.” Arthur complained, “Ever since the very first day John showed up, Dutch stopped caring about me. He just yells at me for being stupid. It’s like that boy is a goddamn curse or something.”
“Surely that’s not true. Dutch still loves you as much as he did the day we took you in.”
“When’s the last time he did something nice for me, ‘sea?”
“Well, he…” Hosea paused, then sighed softly. Dutch had indeed been quite harsh with Arthur since John arrived. It had only been a few months, but even Hosea was beginning to get tired of the favouritism. Sure, Arthur was grown now, but he was still their son. He cared for both Arthur and John equally and tended to their individual needs in the ways that seemed fit. Dutch on the other hand, seemed to forget that Arthur still needed to turn to them for guidance every once in a while.
“When, Hosea?” Arthur repeated, “When?”
“I know. Have you spoken to Dutch about how you feel?”
“I don’t think he’ll be too keen on listening to what I have to say. He don’t care for me no more. Hell, I could end up dead tomorrow and he’d probably turn the other way.” Arthur shrugged as he looked at his hands.
A spot in Hosea’s chest tightened. Was this really how his boy felt? Complete disregard from his parental figure that even in death he wouldn’t feel cared for by them? Hosea could strangle Dutch right now for making Arthur ever feel that way.
“Is that really what you think, Arthur?” Hosea’s voice was soft as he noted the tears that were rimming Arthur’s eyes.
“Don’t matter what I think.” Arthur wiped a tear that had slipped down his cheek with the back of his hand angrily. He hated being vulnerable, especially in front of Dutch and Hosea. Hosea rested a comforting hand on Arthur’s knee now, and Arthur considered pulling away but he instead stayed still.
“Your opinion matters, Arthur. It always has. From scores, to hunting, down to even which song we sing ‘round the fire.”
“Sometimes it don’t feel like that no more.” Arthur was quiet for a few moments as he tried to fight the haziness in his eyes and the tightness in his chest, “I just wonder what I did wrong so that Dutch don’t love me no more.”
“Oh, my dear boy.” Hosea frowned as he put his arms around Arthur and pulled him towards his chest. Arthur began to audibly sob as he gripped tightly onto the back of Hosea’s shirt. Hosea really wanted to kill Dutch now. Hosea simply held Arthur, rubbing circles into his back until he had cried out all of his tears.
Later that evening, Hosea kept his eyes trained on Dutch across the fire the entire time they ate supper. Dutch knew that look very well, that cold, angry stare, the one Hosea only ever gave him if he truly and royally fucked up. He knew it most likely had something to do with Arthur as the boy was extra quiet this evening in particular, his hat pulled closer to his brow and sitting much closer to Hosea than he typically did. Dutch was so fixated on the look Hosea was giving him over their meal that he had almost missed another one of John’s sneaky attempts to steal Arthur’s hat.
“Son,” Dutch rasped, “Finish your supper.”
“Fine,” John whined, as he sat back down on the wooden crate and continued to eat his stew. John stared at Arthur, enamoured by him. He always thought Arthur was an interesting feller, and liked to steal his favourite possessions such as his hat and his horse because it meant Arthur would actually acknowledge him for once. He looked up to the man, wanting to learn to shoot and rob just like him. Maybe one day they’d be robbing trains and blowing up bridges together, but for now, he could only dream. John never found the right balance of getting Arthur’s attention while also keeping him in a good mood. With Dutch and Hosea, it was easy, but with Arthur, he only ever saw the grumpy side of him. Arthur’s eyes flicked up from his bowl and at John’s curious face. He scowled at the younger boy, and John looked down at his own bowl instead. Hosea told stories around the fire until John let out a big yawn, dictating it was time to turn in for the night. Arthur murmured a quiet ‘goodnight’ to only Hosea before pushing up from his seat and going to his tent. John rubbed his eyes before saying goodnight to Dutch and Hosea and heading back to his tent as well. Dutch kept his eyes locked on the flickering flames in the fire, as an uncomfortable silence grew between them. Hosea kept his gaze on Dutch, his lips in a firm line.
“Would you like a whiskey?” Dutch looked up from the fire with a grin now, his expression wavering slightly when he noticed the fury behind Hosea’s eyes.
“I’m fine.”
“Cigarette?”
“No.”
“Come on, old girl,” Dutch cooed as he stood up from his spot and sat close to Hosea, a smirk on his face, “If you’re stressed, I can help you settle it. Let’s go back to our tent.”
Hosea leaned closer to Dutch, eliciting a soft hum from Dutch’s throat. Instead of kissing him, Hosea’s voice dropped low.
“You are lucky I’m not ripping your spine out and beating you to death with it.” Hosea hissed, and Dutch’s eyes widened. “You are a good-for-nothing piece of sh-”
A branch broke behind them, and Hosea turned his gaze to little John standing behind them wringing his hands nervously. Hosea’s expression softened immensely when he saw the young boy’s face.
“John,” Hosea breathed, “Are you alright?”
“I-” John gulped, “I just forgot my hat.”
“Oh! It’s right over here.” Hosea smiled softly as he reached forward and grabbed it. John grabbed it with shaking hands, his eyes flickering between Dutch and Hosea before he turned on his heel and ran off.
“Whatever it was that I did, I’m sorry, Hosea.” Dutch began once John was gone, “I hope you can forgive me. Give me an hour, I’ll make you forget entirely.”
“Sex is the last thing on my mind right now, Dutch van der Linde,” Hosea hissed, “Are you aware of what’s going on with our son?”
“John? He’s doing fine. Working on his reading and writing, I even taught him to fish the other day.”
“Arthur, you boneheaded idiot.” Hosea sighed, “Are you unaware of how he feels right now?”
“I- I-” Dutch began before Hosea interrupted him.
“That’s what I feared. You’re too busy being a dolt to realize that our son thinks you don’t love him anymore. He told me that if he were to die tomorrow, you would leave him to rot. Are you aware of this, Dutch? Our boy. Our Arthur. What on Earth is wrong with you?”
“I would never!” Dutch retaliated, “In a million years, I would never leave our boy to die. I love him more than anything. He knows that, I know he does. How could he forget?”
“That’s not what he thinks anymore, Dutch. You need to fix this.”
“He’s not a boy anymore, Hosea. He can figure it out himself. He doesn’t need us any longer.”
“Dutch van der Linde, if you don’t get off your high horse and listen, I’ll put a bullet through your skull.” Hosea spat, “We are his parents. That means we’re always his parents, even when he’s thirty, or forty, or even fifty. He will still come to us for guidance, and when he sees how you treat John, in the exact way you used to treat him, and then you go and throw him to the side like a discarded pack of cigarettes? That hurts him, Dutch.”
“John just needs more guidance, he’s young. Arthur’s grown.”
“Dutch, listen to me!” Hosea raised his voice, then lowered it quickly to not wake up Arthur or John, “You’re being far too stubborn right now. This is not about how old they are, or who needs what guidance. This is about Arthur and how he feels. Listen to what I’m saying or I will beat it into your thick head.”
“I’m listening.” Dutch’s voice was soft, and Hosea raised an eyebrow, not trusting it. “I swear, old girl.”
“Arthur is hurt. He believes that you don’t love him anymore. He believes that he did something so wrong that you despise him now. He believes that if he were dying, you would turn the other cheek and walk away. That you wouldn’t help him, save him, bring him to safety. That if I wasn’t there, that he would die alone. He believes this. I held him as he cried today. I have never once in the time that we have had Arthur seen him cry that hard. Do you understand me now, Dutch?”
Dutch was quiet as he listened to Hosea’s words, the severity of the situation hitting him like a runaway train. He’s failed his son. Fully, and completely. He put his head into his hands now, and Hosea pursed his lips as he nodded a few times.
“Oh, my dear boy. My son.” Dutch breathed, “He truly thinks this, Hosea?”
“I believe that if I didn’t go to see him after you yelled at him earlier, he probably would have mounted Bodicea and ridden off into the sunset. We would have never seen him again.”
Dutch met his gaze with Hosea once more, his eyes rimmed with unshed tears. “What do we do?”
“This isn’t about we, Dutch. This is about you. Talk to him. Properly. No stubbornness, no fighting, no tough parenting. No making it about John. Talk to him like he’s the fourteen-year-old boy we took in. He needs to see that you still care for him as you did then. He is still our child, and always will be.”
“How could I do this to our boy?” Dutch’s voice hitched and he pinched his eyes shut. “I feel awful.”
“I know, dearest,” Hosea frowned as he put an arm around Dutch, letting him put his head on his shoulder. “I know.”
John shut his tent flaps quickly. He had been peeking out of them the whole time since returning to his tent, listening to the conversation over the fire. He didn’t like when Dutch and Hosea fought, and when he caught the part where Hosea threatened to kill Dutch, he knew he had to listen in. John felt a sadness in his chest, he had no clue that Arthur was feeling like that. Maybe it was why he was always so angry with him all the time. Did John steal Arthur’s parents away from him without realizing it? Was there something John could do to make his brother feel better? John peeked out one more time, noticing Dutch and Hosea snuggled up beside the fire. It sounded like Dutch was crying. John took the chance to sneak across the grass to Arthur’s tent beside his own. He opened up the tent flaps and stood at the foot of Arthur’s cot.
“Arthur?” John whispered, “Arthur, are you awake?”
Arthur groaned, and turned over, pulling the blanket higher up towards his chin.
“Arthur?” John whispered a little bit louder this time.
“Marston, get the hell out of my tent. Now.” Arthur growled, “I’m tryna get some shut-eye.”
“Dutch and Hosea are fighting.” John frowned, and Arthur sighed loudly as he opened his eyes fully now. He wasn’t going to leave, was he?
“They do that sometimes. If you hear any shootin’, run.” Arthur explained as John began to sit down at the foot of his cot.
“Can I sit with you for a little bit?” John asked, and Arthur blinked at him. What happened to asking for permission first?
“Sure.” Arthur sighed as he pushed himself up into a seated position. “What were they fightin’ about?”
“About you, I think.” John shrugged as he pulled at a tattered hole in the knee of his trousers.
“What about me?” Arthur breathed, “You know that ain’t none of your goddamn business, Marston.”
“I know it ain’t, Arthur. Hosea had said you’re really sad and Dutch wasn’t listenin’ to what Hosea was saying about it. Hosea was yellin’ at him. Are you sad, Arthur?”
“That ain’t your business,” Arthur snapped, “I don’t go around askin’ if you’re sad, do I?”
“Okay.” John frowned as he looked at his hands, “Well if you’re sad, I’m sorry you’re sad. If it’s my fault, that is. I didn’t want to make you sad.”
“It ain’t your fault.” Arthur sighed, “Thank you, though.”
It was quiet between them for a while, and Arthur hoped that John would just get up and leave, but instead, he met his eyes again.
“Can you teach me to ride proper, Arthur?”
“I thought Dutch was gonna teach ya.” Arthur pointed out, a disgruntled feeling in his chest, but John simply shook his head.
“I want you to teach me, Arthur. Will ya?”
“Is that what you really want, or are you just being polite?”
“You’re my brother, Arthur. I want you to teach me. Dutch is teaching me other things, and so is Hosea. You haven’t taught me nothin’ yet.”
Arthur was quiet for a few moments, before sighing softly. Just like Hosea said, he is only just a boy. A naïve child still learning. He needed to be patient with him, even if he didn’t necessarily want to be.
“Sure,” Arthur nodded after a few moments, “You’re not touchin’ Bodicea though, we’ll use a different horse.”
“Okay, Arthur.” John beamed before jumping up from the cot, “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Marston,” Arthur replied as John shut the tent flaps and snuck back to his tent.
The following morning, the four of them sat around the campfire as they finished breakfast. All of them, except for John, sipped coffee, or smoked cigarettes. Hosea met eyes with Dutch, raising his eyebrows and moving his gaze to Arthur then back to Dutch once more. Dutch cleared his throat as he stubbed out his cigarette on the ground.
“Arthur, did you want to go for a ride? Just you and I? Maybe some fishing?”
“Sure, Dutch,” Arthur replied as he finished the last bit of his coffee. Hosea gave Dutch a look of approval as he and Arthur stood up from their spots and went to mount up. They rode out of camp and through the dense forest. Dutch had mentioned a nice fishing spot nearby, with a boat they could borrow for the time being. They left their horses near the shore and pushed the small wooden boat out into the water before climbing in. Arthur rowed them out until Dutch had told them to stop. They cast their lines, and after a few moments of silence, Dutch took the opportunity to start the difficult conversation. At least if Arthur pushed him into the water in a fit of rage, he could swim back to shore.
“Son, I-” Dutch began, before sighing softly, “Hosea and I was talking last night. Confided in me about some difficult feelings you were having.”
“Leave it, Dutch. It ain’t important. We’re here to fish, not talk about feelings.”
“I think it’s something we need to discuss.” Dutch continued, “I’ve come to realize I am the one to blame here. I’ve been putting too much of my attention on little John that I’ve been forgetting about my other son.”
Arthur’s eyes flicked in Dutch’s direction for a moment, but then he turned his gaze back to his fishing line.
“Arthur, I’m sorry. Truly, and deeply sorry. I mean it.”
“Yeah, whatever, Dutch.” Arthur grumbled, “I’m over it anyway.”
“I don’t think that’s true, son. Hosea mentioned that you’re really hurtin’, and that’s all my fault. He said something about if you died, you truly believe that I would leave you to die alone. Somethin’ ‘bout me not loving you anymore.”
“Hm. I suppose I did say that.”
“Arthur, you’re just as stubborn as me.” Dutch sighed, “I want you to know that none of that is truthful. I love you more than I could even describe, my boy. As much as I did the very first day we brought you into our care. That will never fade, no matter what.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Arthur sulked, as his throat felt tight and his eyes stung with tears. “Your fish is bitin’, Dutch.”
“The fish can wait.” Dutch dismissed, “About the leaving you to die thing, I’d never do that. Never, Arthur. If I die in the process of saving your life, my boy, so be it. I’d throw myself into a fire if it meant saving you. Nothing and nobody will get between that. Do you understand me?”
Arthur wiped away a tear that slipped out of his eye with the back of his hand, and he sniffled.
“You’re my son, Arthur. You’ll always be my son. I’m sorry for making you feel like you are less than, and I’m sorry for dedicating too much time to our new addition.”
“It’s fine. He’s just a boy, ain’t he? Needs to learn.”
“There is truth in that statement, yes, but I still need to be dedicating time to you. Hosea’s raisin’ John too and he’s balancing both of you well enough. I take full blame for hurtin’ you, Arthur. Can you forgive me?”
Arthur was quiet for a few moments, before sighing. It wasn’t worth holding a grudge against Dutch, he did seem mostly genuine in his apology.
“Sure. I forgive ya, Dutch. I know Hosea will beat ya half to death if you’re lyin’ to me about trying better.”
“At this point, I’d let him!” Dutch chuckled, “I’ve been an awful father to you. You don’t deserve that kind of treatment, my boy.”
“Well, thank you. Besides, the kid don’t need to see us all bickerin’ anyway. Came to my tent last night, said he couldn’t sleep all because you and Hosea was fightin’. Said Hosea threatened to kill you, I told John to run if he heard gunfire.”
“That poor boy, ain’t ever had a moment of peace in his short life.”
“He’ll be fine, Dutch. I turned out okay. You and Hosea know what you’re doin’. Besides, I offered to teach him how to ride so that’s figured out already. Suppose I could help now and then with the boy if you need it.”
“You’re a good man, Arthur Morgan.” Dutch beamed, as he threw an arm around his son and squeezed him tight for a few seconds, “Don’t feel like you have to, he ain’t your son, and I know you’re not too fond of him.”
“He’s just a boy, I was like him once too. Threatening to beat him ain’t workin’ no more, so I suppose I’m gonna have to be nice to the kid.”
“That’s the spirit, my son. I have money I can give you, take the boy down to the stables and get him a horse of his own. He can learn to ride that one.”
“Can I get him a mean one?” Arthur smirked, and Dutch narrowed his eyes on him. “I’m only kiddin’, Dutch.”
They fished for a little while longer, not catching anything large enough to eat, so they called it quits before riding back to camp. John was working on his writing alongside Hosea when Dutch and Arthur rode back into camp. Hosea pushed himself up from his seat and crossed camp to meet up with Dutch as he dismounted his horse. Arthur took the opportunity to sit with John at the table and see how his writing was going. John was surprised to see Arthur be so nice to him, and even though Arthur made fun of the way he traced the letter G, he was happy to not be yelled at for once.
“How did everything go?” Hosea inquired once Arthur was out of earshot.
“I apologized, from the bottom of my heart.” Dutch replied as they walked towards their tent, “The boy said he forgives me, and I promised him that I’m going to try harder now.”
“Mr. van der Linde, owning up to his mistakes.” Hosea teased as he put an arm around Dutch’s waist, then slipped his hand into the back pocket of his trousers, “I didn’t know you could do it.”
“Shut up, old girl.” Dutch chuckled, “I’m sending the boys into town. Arthur offered to teach John to ride. I’ve got some money they could use to get John a horse of his own.”
“Hm, I heard from John,” Hosea replied as they stepped into the tent. “He’s looking forward to it. Maybe they’ll finally get along.”
“That’s the plan,” Dutch crouched down as he pulled the lockbox from under their bed. He pocketed more than enough money for a decent horse, then looked up to see Hosea standing behind him. There was a look of desire behind his eyes, and Dutch stood up slowly, meeting that lustful gaze. Hosea hooked his fingertips into the waistband of Dutch’s trousers and lowered his voice.
“Make sure the boys are gone for a good long while. I’ve got some stress I need to get out.” Hosea purred, and Dutch swallowed the lump rising in his throat.
“Anything for you, old girl.” Dutch choked out, and Hosea smirked before leaving the tent. Dutch cleared his throat and took a few moments to settle himself before following Hosea out of the tent.
“My boys!” Dutch exclaimed once he reached them at the table, “It’s time for you to get your own horse, John. Arthur’s going to take you into Blue Springs. I’ve got some money, you get whichever you want.”
“Thank you, Dutch.” John smiled as he grabbed the stack of bills from Dutch’s hand. Arthur snatched them, and stuffed the stack into his satchel, “That’s mine, Arthur!”
“You’ll get it back later, Marston.” Arthur barked, “Don’t need you dropping it on the way. This was hard-earned cash, boy! Dutch’ll kill ya if you lose it.”
“Arthur,” Dutch scolded, “There’s always more money.”
“I’m only kiddin’. Let’s go Johnny Boy.” Arthur chuckled as he pushed John’s hat down over his eyes.
“Be back before nightfall, boys!” Dutch stated as Arthur and John mounted Bodicea, “Take as much time as you need to teach him to ride, Arthur!”
“Sure. We’ll catch some supper while we’re gone too.”
“Good man, Arthur!” Hosea called, “I’ve got a hankering for some deer!”
“Deer it is then. Unless all we find is rabbits.”
“No coming back until you’ve got a deer!” Dutch teased, his eyes drifting to Hosea briefly.
“No promises!” Arthur chuckled, as he and John rode out of camp.
“Safe travels, my boys!” Hosea called as he watched them disappear into the thick of the trees.
“Guess you’re learnin’ to hunt too, Marston.” Arthur continued once they were out of the trees and on the road towards Blue Springs. John had only seen the town once since they found this spot to camp two weeks prior. Blue Springs was located in the Southern regions of Illinois, quite a distance from where John was orphaned in Northern Illinois. It was a small town, much smaller than Chicago, with only the basics such as the stables, a saloon, a blacksmith, a general store, a gunsmith, and a sheriff’s office. Arthur rode them right into the stables once they arrived, and they climbed off Boadicea onto the ground.
“Welcome to the Blue Springs stables, how can I assist ya?”
“My brother here is looking at getting his first horse. Do you got anything small enough for him?”
“We’ve got a chestnut Morgan, a boy. Calm temperament, good starter horse for the young boy.”
“How much?”
“Ninety-five.”
Arthur considered it for a moment before looking at John. “What do ya say? Too expensive?” He winked subtly, and John smirked before looking at the salesman.
“Too expensive. I’m not made of gold, partner. Can ya do eighty?”
“Eighty-five?” The man offered, and Arthur nodded once.
“That’s better, mister! Can you tack him up for another hundred?”
“I’m not sure we have anything that ch-” The man’s eyes widened when he saw Arthur’s hand hovering over his revolver.
“Can you do ninety?” John drawled, and the man nodded frantically.
“Yes! I can! I can!”
The man frantically left to get everything they needed, and Arthur and John shared a knowing glance. This was easy.
“Good swindling, kid,” Arthur murmured into John’s ear.
“Hosea taught me.”
“Well, he taught good. Next time try to swindle a little more.”
The man returned with the fully tacked-up Morgan, and Arthur removed $175 out of his satchel.
“Good doin’ business with ya, partner!” John beamed, and Arthur and John led their horses out of the stables by the reins.
“Let’s get to the outskirts of the town, then we’ll mount up,” Arthur explained, and John followed him out of the town. They climbed up into the saddles once they were in the outskirts, and began down the path at a slow speed.
“Which way are we going?” John asked as he held tightly onto the reins.
“Just keep on straight, we’re in no rush just yet. How ya feelin’?”
“I feel just fine, Arthur.”
“Okay, well, just make sure to act confident while you’re ridin’. Horses can sense your fear, and buck you right off. It’s probably why Bodicea bucks you off so fast when you try to steal her.”
“She don’t like me much,” John laughed, and he tugged on the reins to try to get his horse to move a little faster as he was starting to slow down somehow.
“Don’t pull on the reins too much, John, use your legs instead. If you’re tryna speed up, a little kick in the side, click of the tongue, and you’ll go.” Arthur explained, before demonstrating. Bodicea sped forward a bit, and John did the same, urging the Morgan to match the speed Arthur was going.
“Good! Excellent work, Marston. Let’s get out into this open patch of plains.” Arthur tugged his reins to the side to get Bodicea to turn, and John mimicked his movements.
“Can we go faster?”
“Sure. If you’re feelin’ ready. If you’re needing to slow, lean back in the saddle and a firm woah will get him to slow. Are you ready?”
“I’m ready, Arthur.”
“Sure. Hyah!” Arthur dug his boot hard into Bodicea’s side, and she bolted forward. John did the same, trying to get his horse to match Arthur’s pace. They galloped through the plains, cutting through patches of tall grass and flowers. Arthur turned his gaze now and then to John behind him, ensuring he kept up the pace. John had a large smile plastered across his face, laughing loudly as they galloped together. Arthur couldn’t help but let out a grin of his own. They galloped together for a little while longer before Arthur made the move to slow Bodicea down. John slowed his horse, taking a little longer than Arthur, but soon they were both stopped fully.
“Did ya have fun, kid?” Arthur beamed, as he took note of the large smile plastered on the boy’s face.
“He’s real fast!”
“I saw! Did you pick a name yet?”
“I think I’m gonna call him Pepper.”
“Sure, Pepper it is then. That’s a nice name. What do you say we keep exploring? There’s some pretty places around here I think you’d like to see.”
“Okay, Arthur. I’ll follow you.”
The two of them set off in the direction of the midday sun, their horses side by side on the dirt path. Arthur would turn his gaze to John now and then, seeing parts of himself within the younger boy. He remembered when Hosea brought him to purchase Bodicea, and when he taught him to ride. He remembered being John’s age, how big the world seemed when you’re that young. How vulnerable a young mind like that is. John and Arthur shared troubled pasts, and similarly, were both rescued by a curious couple who were travelling America together. Although for John, he also had an older brother who would be there to teach and guide him as he grew up. Arthur felt a wave of protection wash over him. He would be there until his very last day on Earth to ensure John was safe. No matter what it took.