𝙼𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝙷𝚢𝚖𝚗 | 𝙱𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝙸

Act I | Chapter V

. Situating .

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Arthur reaches the door, about to push on through into the warmly-welcoming shelter. But upon hearing Dutch's rumbling voice from outside the door, he decided to listen in for a moment.

"Hosea... one other thing... when you get a chance, send someone down the track back to that farmhouse."

Arthur then stepped in quietly, still inconspicuously listening in, gauging whether the conversation is one he had right to hearing.

"Okay... why?" Hosea's warmly-aged voice sounded, confusion evident in his tone.

"That poor woman's husband needs burying," Dutch murmured, sympathy lacing his words. Arthur agreed internally; just as they had honored Jane's mother, they should honor Sadie's husband. A heavy feeling settled onto Arthur's heart at the thought of those innocent women losing the sole pinnacle of their lives at the hands of cold-blooded gunslingers. Whether it be from the O'Driscolls' hellfire or their own careless actions, any casualties resulted in guilt piling onto his shoulders.

"Of course... I-is it safe down there?" Hosea wondered after a moment, his voice tranquil yet hesitant. Always the cautious man, he was.

Dutch let out a minutely agitated breath, pushing his weight off the chair next to the fireplace where he rested to stand on his ever-numbing feet. He trained his gaze onto Hosea and finished, "Just send someone sensible."

Hosea nodded, glancing up at Dutch with a solemnity that bore in the air like a thick smog. "Understood."

The two men settled their eyes on the fire a little longer, a comfortable silence befalling the cabin. Arthur felt the need to talk to Dutch, but didn't want to disturb their current trains of thought. Having grown up with these men as his fatherly figures, he knew how much they valued their peace.

Arthur took notice of Molly staring outside a small window to his right, all bundled with a scarf and a head wrap. The gunslinger faced the red-haired woman and inquired, "How're you doin', Molly?"

Her eyes swept from the window to his broad form, a minutely cynical glint in her green eyes. Completely overlooking his thoughtful question, she asked, "So now you're robbing a train? How is that going to help us?"

Arthur could sense her frustration and honestly didn't feel like getting yelled at over a mission he had no say in, especially by someone as ostentatious as Molly O'Shea. He shrugged and responded, "I'd speak to Dutch about that."

A stirring of fabric and creaky wood sounded to his left, drawing both his and Molly's attention away from their current small conversation. Dutch rose from his chair, grumbling out gravelly, "Alright."

The gang leader rubbed his gloved hands together in a last attempt to warm them before sauntering away from the inviting fireplace into the room beyond.

Arthur spoke up calmly in praise regarding Sadie's fallen husband. "Good call, Dutch."

He glanced over his shoulder at Arthur, not once halting his gait. "It's the least we can do for the poor woman."

Arthur rolled his shoulders, a ridiculous idea coming to mind. Amused with his own clever remark, Arthur smirked as he prompted, "I'd say Micah should do it but that ain't a good idea."