Between the Raindrops

One Thing Right

"So. What now, Dutch?" Hosea asked.

"Ain't it obvious?" he said. "We run. North."

"North?"

"Of course! The fools think we have the money." He chuckled. "Probably think we'll run for Mexico with a score like this."

Micah pushed himself to the front of the crowd. "But... where's the money, Dutch?"

"Somewhere safe," their leader said mysteriously. "Now, let's get moving. All of you! Arthur!"

Arthur sighed. He stepped forward and nodded. "Dutch."

"It is good to see you," he said, striding forward and then, in a much lower voice he asked; "Can I count on you? Son?"

Arthur stared at him. He would have followed Dutch into hell. Once. Now? Now he weren't so sure of anything. Arthur heard a whimpering then, Jack Marston's little voice, and his gaze flicked to the sound. The boy was in the back of a wagon, crying for his momma. Abigail no doubt fretting over the kid's fool of a father.

"Arthur?"

"I said I'd help ya get clear, didn't I?"

Dutch nodded, satisfied. For now. "That you did, son," he said graciously. "That you did."

"So? What's the plan?"

"Won't do to have 'em get the drop on us," Dutch reasoned. "Listen up," he shouted, addressing the folk beyond Arthur. "I want you boys to mount up! We need outriders to see what's what."

Javier, Charles, Lenny; they were pulling themselves into their saddles before their names were even called. Certain and committed and some small part of Arthur wished for his old ignorance. For the old familiarity and the comfort to be found in knowing his place.

"And lay low," Dutch continued. They nodded. "Don't wanna lose a single one of you, you hear me? Micah, Charles, you boys see what's comin' from Blackwater. Javier... Arthur, you boys'll scout the route ahead to freedom. Bill, drive the munitions wagon... Lenny, you stay with us. Guard our backs."

Arthur blinked. "I ain't got a horse, Dutch."

The older man turned to him and raised a dark brow.

"Boadicea is back at the ranch," Arthur explained.

Dutch nodded and waved toward the hitching posts. "What about that little mare, then?"

"That's Emma's horse."

"And it is a fine horse, Arthur," Dutch said. "We all have to make sacrifices now if we wanna survive. For the family, you understand. You are a part of this family, Arthur."

"I was thinkin', given how we're down three drivers, I might be needed here."

"You do have a point, son," Dutch agreed. "But... we can do without some luxuries. I need you out there. We need you. We'll all feel better knowin' you're clearin' the path for us."

Arthur rested his hands on his hips. "I dunno..."

"We all have to do our part, son." Dutch put his hand on Arthur's shoulder. "I need you with me," he implored. "You're the only one I can count on to stay strong."

Arthur sighed. "Okay," he said, relenting.

He saddled Belladonna, stroking her. She whickered nervously, set off no doubt by all the commotion and strange horses and Arthur answered this wild fear by speaking softly and stroking firm and telling her that no harm would come to her. He fitted her saddle with a scabbard for the looted Winchester and his old saddle bags stocked with oats, jerky and beans. Bullets. Then Arthur took the reins and led Bella up the line of wagons and horses.