Miss Morgan

Thirty-Nine

June 1899
-Ivy-

"How you feelin' about the new camp?" Hosea asks me, grooming Silver Dollar until his coat shines. We've been at Clemens Point for almost a week now, just laying low a bit before we get back to work.

"It's nice. Humid. I like bein' right on the lake. I'm ready to get out for a bit though." I answer.

"There's some real impressive fish in some other parts of that lake." Hosea looks out at the water. He hasn't shut up about the fish in that lake since we got here.

"Hey, old girl," Dutch shouts as he walks over with Arthur in tow. "Come on down here, why don't you show us this creek you been pissin' in." He joins the two of us, grabbing The Count's reins and mounting up into the saddle. He grins at me and Hosea rolls his eyes. "Hey, you don't look to rosy, old friend. I thought this warmer weather would..."

"My days of lookin' good are long over, Dutch..." Hosea interrupts.

"Always dream crushing and bubble bursting, you. Come on, Hosea. Let's go fishing. You too, Ivy." Dutch reaches out a hand and helps me up behind his saddle.

"Alright, gentlemen, let me show you how it's done." Hosea and Arthur mount up and we ride down the trail away from camp.

"Why don't we just fish here? There's a whole lake of 'em." Arthur questions.

"Because I need to get out for a bit..." Dutch explains. "Me and the old guard. Before any of them back there... there was us."

"The curious couple and their unruly kids." Hosea laughs.

"It feels good here. You did well finding that spot, Arthur." Dutch says.

"It was more Charles than me." Arthur grumbles.

"It feels like I can breathe again. Thick and soupy as this air is. Might even do your whistling pipes some good, Hosea." Dutch continues.

"I was once in this country with Bessie... oh, it feels like a lifetime ago."

"It was a lifetime ago." Dutch adds. "But what a life we have lived... how well we have fought. Especially the three of you."

"I hope so." Arthur calls out as we get out of the trees and reach the main road.

"But now, when things are desperate, we have to stick with the plan." Dutch explains. "Make enough money, then find somewhere where nobody'll find us, where we don't have to hide."

"Eh, like where?" I ask.

"I got some ideas hatching, but I need you with me, not against me. All of you."

"Of course." Arthur answers.

"Still, we do need money." Dutch continues. "So keep a low profile, especially in the local town. After Valentine, I want everyone on best behavior here, no trouble... but start turning over the soil and rocks... see what turns up."

"Dutch..." Hosea adds. "We gotta be discreet."

"Imagine what a slew of rich simpletons there must be down here." Dutch laughs. "Oh, this is perfect for you, Hosea, you'll be able to play them like a fiddle."

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure, but-"

"No buts..." Dutch interrupts. "Not today. We fish and enjoy the day."

As we ride, we come to a crossroads with the railroad where a prison wagon sits, waiting for a train to pass. "Looks like law up ahead, play it cool." Dutch tells us, slowing the horses down to stop next to the wagon.

"Hello Gentlemen." A familiar British voice rings out of the back of the prison wagon.

"Trelawny." I grin.