Loyalty Divided

Chapter Fifty

Arthur rode at the front of the column, the cold wind biting at his face as they made their way into the Grizzlies. The landscape around them was harsh and unforgiving, a stark contrast to the chaos they had left behind in Blackwater. The snow-covered mountains loomed ahead, promising both shelter and challenges.

It had been a few days since the incident in Blackwater. The gang's losses weighed heavily on everyone's minds. John had been shot but was sent ahead to scout along with Micah. Sean had been taken, young Jenny had died on the journey into the mountains, Davey was clinging to life with a terrible gunshot wound, and Mac was missing. The toll on the gang was evident in their weary faces and the somber silence that enveloped them.

Arthur's thoughts were a whirlwind as he led the group. The cold was relentless, seeping through his layers of clothing and numbing his fingers and toes. But the physical discomfort was nothing compared to the emotional strain. He couldn't shake the image of Evangeline's face from his mind. He hoped she was safe, far from the chaos that had consumed Blackwater. His heart ached at the thought of her not knowing where he was or if he was even alive.

Just over the rushing wind, Arthur could hear a familiar voice call, "Arthur! Any luck?"

Arthur lifted his head and squinted his eyes against the swirling snow. "I found a place where we can get some shelter." His tone turned grim, "let Davey rest while he... you know." The thought of Davey slowly slipping away from the gang put a sour taste in his mouth but he shook it off and snatched the reins. "An old mining town, abandoned, it ain't far. Come on."

"Come on! Yah!" He heard Dutch's voice once again over the wind. He started to lead the way to the old mining town he had found.

As they moved through the snow, the horses struggled against the deep drifts. Arthur's mind raced with thoughts of Evangeline and the dire situation they were in. He hoped she was safe, far from the chaos that had consumed Blackwater.

After a grueling ride, they arrived at the abandoned mining town. The buildings were old and weathered, but they offered some shelter from the relentless storm. Arthur guided the caravan to a halt and dismounted, feeling the sting of the cold in his bones.

The storm howled around them, but the promise of shelter drove them forward. As they arrived at the town's outskirts, Arthur saw Hosea, holding a lantern and a revolver, making his way toward a dilapidated shed.

Hosea stepped into the shed, casting a wary glance around the dim interior. He then signaled for the others to follow him. "Bring him in here," he called out, his voice cutting through the cacophony of the blizzard.

A group of men and women, their faces grim and determined, carefully carried Davey on a handmade stretcher. They moved swiftly, setting the stretcher down on a pile of hay in a corner of the shed.

Susan Grimshaw was already hard at work. "Miss Gaskill... get that fire lit quick," she barked. "Miss Jones, bring in whatever blankets we have. Mr. Pearson, see what we've got in terms of food."

Abigail, her face pale and drawn, looked over at the stretcher with tears in her eyes. "Davey's dead."

Orville Swanson, his expression somber, placed a few coins on Davey's closed eyes. "There was... nothing more you could have done."

Hosea, his brow furrowed with concern, moved closer to Dutch. "What are we gonna do? We need supplies."

Dutch, his face set with a determined resolve, replied, "Well, first of all, you're gonna stay here... and you are gonna get yourself warm. Now, I sent John and Micah scouting out ahead. Arthur and I, we're gonna ride out and see if we can find one of 'em."