~~
"So we know, brothers and sisters, that no one is truly good." Reverend Grimshaw looked somber yet determined as he spoke from the pulpit. "Yet know this, that He who died for our sins is the one who can make us righteous in the eyes of God." There were a few murmurs and "amens" echoing in the sparse congregation. "None is greater than the other, but we are all one in Christ."
"That really how it works?" Mary-Beth whispered to me. We were in the very back pew by ourselves. "Y'all believe this Jesus died, and that's how you get to Heaven?"
"A little simplified, but... yes, essentially."
"But what if you've done some awful things?"
"Don't matter. Well, it does matter of course," I continued, seeing her shocked expression, "but really, anyone can repent and be saved. It's an issue of the heart, as my Daddy told me."
"So you ask for forgiveness for somethin' and it's just... gone?"
"Pretty much." I shrugged. "But the idea is to not do it again as best you can, or else you're really just paying a fine to commit the same crime again. Plus, it don't really undo the hurt you caused, so you still get consequences. It just relieves some of the weight, knowing you can try again."
"So--"
"Shh!" A man who was sitting with his family has spun to us, a finger to his lip. I felt like I shrunk in my own skin.
"Sorry!" I whispered back, and he turned around with a huff. Mary-Beth and I looked at each other and giggled like schoolgirls caught by a teacher.
"Not sure how I really feel 'bout all that, but... the thought is nice," Mary-Beth mused seemingly to herself, even quieter than before.
As the sermon ended, and I was answering a few more wordy questions from my friend, I hadn't noticed the preacher make his way over to us. "Ms. Monroe!" He beamed at me. I spun quickly to him and shook his hand, my cheeks flushing with the sudden call. "And who have you brought with you today?"
"Mary-Beth." To my relief, she stuck out her hand with a smile. "Mighty fine to meet you, Reverend. I know another Reverend myself, and he seems much different than you."
"Hopefully for the better," Reverend Grimshaw laughed. "It's lovely to meet you, and welcome to the First Church of Rhodes." He turned to face me. "Ms. Monroe, I know you said you're looking for some extra work -- and I could throw you a few bucks for this as well. But could you organize the closet in the back there? Some of the young boys got into it and, well..."
"Of course." I smiled at him. "And no need to pay me, Reverend."
He dipped his head, opening his mouth to say more, but was cut off by an elderly lady calling to him from closer to the front. "Oh, that's Mrs. Langston -- and you don't want to keep her waiting." At that, both Mary-Beth and I laughed. "It was great to meet you. We hope to see you again -- you are always welcome!" With that, the Reverend swiftly turned and made his way to the front pews.
Mary-Beth smirked. "Y'all are awfully nice 'round here."
"I think he's real happy to see a new face. Not common nowadays, much less in this town." I glanced towards the back. "Mind if I help fix that closet real quick? Shouldn't take too long."
"I can help." I smiled as she got up and followed me. It was much nicer than I thought to not be alone for once.
As we began re-stacking books and piling them back onto the wooden shelves, the church cleared. Soon it was just us and the Reverend at the far end, tidying up the pulpit before he'd be leaving. As he started to make his way to the door, it burst open suddenly.
"We've been crossed, Reverend." The voice of Sheriff Leigh Gray was hushed and cold, echoing in the empty church. "Them boys gotta be some of those outlaws the law's been huntin', and we fell right into their trap."
"So it seems." Reverend Grimshaw sighed, putting a hand on Sheriff Gray's arm. "I'm sorry to hear."
The sheriff must have been keeping some of the townsfolk in the loop. Mary-Beth and I glanced at each other in alarm, creeping farther back into the shadows.
"We gotta do somethin'!" Sheriff Gray shook his head. "We got them into our lawmen, but now we gotta get 'em out."
"That insinuates killing them, doesn't it?" The reverend responded somberly.
"I'm afraid it does." The sheriff put his hands on his hips. "I need you to help tell some of the townsfolk. I'm plannin' on having a group of their boys come into town in a few days for a job — we'll have to make our move quick, and I don't want any civilians in the crossfire." My heart dropped.
"I'll warn them to not show their faces for the whole day," Reverend Grimshaw assured, his tone grim. "Thank you for the warning, Sheriff. I'm... it's a shame things have to be this way."
"Me too." Sheriff Gray turned towards the door. "I need to get back, but thanks for your time, Reverend. Maybe a prayer or two for us would go over well, whatever you do." With that, the large doors shut behind his exit.
Reverend Grimshaw sighed, his face in his hands. Then he solemnly got up, exiting the church as well. His face looked visibly distressed. Perhaps he'd forgotten we were there in the madness that was just explained to him. Mary-Beth and I looked at each other again, a mutual understanding in our faces. We shoved the last few books in the closet and got up, speeding to the back door.
I unhitched Mabel who had been lazily grazing on the grass outside the courtyard. "Dear Lord," I muttered, "they know! Of course they know."
"I thought Sean had said they'd never figure it out!?" Mary-Beth gasped as I helped her up.
"I told them it was a dumb idea," I grumbled, hoisting myself up as well. "We need to get back and tell them they can't go through with this job." I snapped the reins, causing Mabel to jerk forward into a run towards Clemens Point.
It didn't take a genius to guess what would happen - the sheriff would draw some boys out and threaten them, or try to arrest them. Then one of the sharpshooter boys would use their quickdraw reflex and fire, causing a whole shootout. Gray was right to assume the whole town needed to be on lockdown for what would happen after that. From his perspective, he was probably right on his end to set up this sort of ambush, knowing it'd take a huge force to take down this gang.
At this point, I could sense a crossroads. Keep helping the gang, or help the town? Could it possibly be both?
I whispered a prayer as Mabel clomped across the grassy meadows. My convictions were all over the place nowadays and I really didn't know which way to turn. I remembered some words from the letter Dad had written me back as I rode:
While I miss you, I know you are a strong woman and are doing so many great things. I look forward to hearing about your mission when you get back! I might be gone too - they are sending me up to stay with near the Reservation for awhile, maybe two months or so. I will get some more assignment information soon. Stay safe.
My heart ached at the thought of Dad finding out not only was I helping out this gang of outlaws, but now also acting a spy for my own church's town. Of course nearly no situation is purely black and white, but at the core... I was trading one for the other. No logic really lined up for me to be choosing this gang, outside of the kindness stretched by a few of them to me, and their hospitality. What if they kill all the lawmen, or the law kills all of them? Either way, I felt like I'd be losing something huge.
"You alright?" Mary-Beth called over the wind rushing by our ears.
"As much as I can be." I shook my head. "Hearin' the sheriff is gonna organize a shootout in your congregation's town, much less for the gang you're helping, ain't exactly comforting."
"I know." She sighed, and then we were quiet.
Something had to be done, and now it seemed that it rested on my shoulders to let it play out or change the fate yet again. Not entirely, because especially with Mary-Beth here, I'm sure the boys would listen to the warning -- but would they go in, guns blazing anyway? Would we just be giving them the advantage and thus sealing the fate of all the lawmen? My head was spinning all the more as we neared the water.
~~
By now it was midday, the hot Lemoyne sun beating down on the camp as we skirted to a stop. Both of us hopped off Mabel and practically ran into camp.
"Where's Dutch?" I gasped. Reverend Swanson was dawdling in the shade of a tree, looking particularly hungover. He started and looked at us. "Not back yet..." he muttered, closing his eyes again.
Almost as if on cue, the clomp of a group hooves got closer. Micah and Dutch returned, looking angry. Mary-Beth and I ran over to them -- though the whole situation with the Grays was clearly the pressing matter, I couldn't help but notice the obvious. "Dutch... where's Arthur?"
Dutch raised an eyebrow as he looked down. "Takin' his time making his way back, I'd reckon. As usual." He slid off The Count, hitching him to a post.
"How'd you get on?" Hosea had walked over, looking relieved. Probably at the fact that they were actually alive.
"They duped us alright," Dutch grumbled.
"Got us good, but we made it out." Micah shook his head. "It was all a trap, alright."
"Oh gosh, I'm sorry, boys." Pearson had followed Hosea. By now, some others were poking out of their tents, curious to the situation. Well, if we wanted a crowd for our announcement, here it was. I tried to shake off the pressing concern for Arthur as I glanced at Mary-Beth, who also looked worried. Why wouldn't they make sure he actually left with them?
"I guess Micah's point about tryin' was true, if we weren't talking about Colm," Dutch hissed. Micah looked akin to a beaten puppy for a moment, but the familiar smug glint returned to his face.
"We still showed 'em!"
"Hang on, Dutch--" I called, seeing the leader begin to make his way towards his tent.
"I got some plans to revise, ladies," he said coolly, raising his hand at Mary-Beth and I.
"It's the Grays!" Mary-Beth blurted. At once he stopped, turning back to us.
"They know." I raised my voice a tad bit, sensing the small crowd returning. "They know, and they're plannin' on drawing some of y'all in to ambush you."
"Is that so?" Dutch cocked an eyebrow, looking at me.
"They don't want you for a job," Mary-Beth insisted. "They want you as bait."
"And how did you go about learning this?" Micah had walked over, stopping next to a skeptical-looking Bill Williamson.
"I was-- we were at the church today." I glanced over at Mary-Beth, whose cheeks reddened. I know church wasn't exactly a nice topic for everyone here. "We stayed to help clean up some stuff, and Sheriff Gray came in to talk to the Reverend. It's gonna be bad, Dutch. You can't go."
"Well if we know they're there, we can catch them by surprise!" Bill piped up.
"And cause a shootout across the whole town?" Hosea turned to him. "You want to repeat Valentine, Mr. Williamson?"
"They'll certainly have it comin'," Bill growled.
"I don't think that's smart." Charles, who rarely spoke in front of the group, stepped forward. "We've drawn enough attention as it is. We can use this opportunity to get out, or lay low."
"I think he's right," Lenny piped up, stepping out from behind a wagon.
"What do you two even know about strategizing?" Micah grumbled.
"That's enough." Dutch crossed his arms. "We will talk about this later. I... I need to think. Hosea, come with me." With that, the two patriarchs of the gang went into the tent, closing the flap behind them. Micah seemed irritated and stormed off. The rest of them naturally dispersed.
Mary-Beth and I walked back to the girls' caravan. "Thanks for taking me today," she said kindly.
"Oh... thank you for coming!" I smiled at her. "I'd say you're always welcome to come again, but all things considered... we might need to wait awhile, huh?"
"Guess so," she sighed, picking up a book.
"What are you ladies doing, sitting around?" Ms. Grimshaw stood in front of the caravan, arms crossed. "You already had the morning off doing God knows what."
"Right, right, sorry." I scrambled to my feet. Clearly I was distracted, worried about Arthur. Sure, he was gone a lot throughout the day, and often doing his own thing. Sometimes for a couple days at a time. But something was nagging at me -- after a big mission like that, I'd expect him to at least follow Dutch back to camp. It wasn't really my place to push people to do anything around here, much less search for a guy who could well take care of himself -- but something just felt off...
~~
The day felt like it took forever, stretching on hours of work in the sun. I finished patching a hole in one of the men's shirts and set it down, wiping my brow. Finally, the sun had begun its descent into the lower sky, relieving some of the heat.
But still no Arthur.
It really had been eating at me the whole day. I noticed Charles over by his tent, rubbing some pink flowers on a stone arrowhead. He had always been one to ride with Arthur, and they seemed like good pals. He'd probably have some input on this. I made my way over to him. "Excuse me, Mr. Smith?"
"Hey." He looked up, his large dark eyes curious.
"Hi. Um... I'm just sort of worried." I scratched mindlessly at my arm, suddenly sheepish. "Arthur's been gone the whole day, and I know that's normal, but... after the boys said it was a trap, it's been naggin' at me."
"I agree. I don't like it either." Charles narrowed his eyes. "It's odd he didn't follow Dutch and Micah back to camp. He usually would after something like all that happened."
It was quite validating for him to agree. "Can't help but feel like something bad might've happened."
He paused for a moment, thinking. Then he stood up abruptly. "We should go look."
"Oh. Now?" I was a bit surprised, but at the same time not. He made himself always available and ready, which the gang seemed to appreciate. For being a newer member, he already was reliable and one of the best enforcers.
"Yeah." He peered around, resting his eyes on the back of John Marston's head. "If it's anything like what I'm thinking, we'll need a few hands. But not many -- we should try to sneak around, if possible. You're good with a bow, right?"
"Yeah." I shuffled my feet, realizing what was being asked of me. "I'm alright, but-"
"You don't have to come, but we could use your skills. Arthur told me you're the best he's seen."
My cheeks flushed and I cleared my throat, straightening up. "I'll do it."
"Good. I'll meet you by the horses." With that, he walked over to John.
My heart thudding, I quickly grabbed my satchel and bow, rushing over to Mabel. Looks like I was now on a potential rescue mission -- I almost wanted there to be something at this point, just to save the potential humiliation of realizing Arthur was okay and him calling us all dumbasses.
It wasn't long before I saw Charles and John making their way over in the darkening sunlight. "Let's go." They took off almost immediately without another word. I followed as quick as I could, swallowing down the nerves. Here goes nothing.
~~