Colm O'Driscoll is dead. Sadie Adler killed him. I hope it brings her some peace. But there's no peace in camp. I told Dutch what I've been thinking for months now, and I don't think anything will be the same again.

--------------------------

The sounds of Dutch and Molly O'Shea arguing made its way through the camp, and everyone made awkward glances towards their tent as they went about their business.

From what Arthur could tell, Dutch was spitting about faith and loyalty, but Miss O'Shea was giving as good as she got.

The backlash from Arthur's outburst was a fractured camp, one that horribly reminded him of Beaver Hollow. Since Hosea was barely talking to Dutch, Micah took up the role of second in command and whispered in Dutch's ear, continuing to encourage the ideas of gold and escaping the law. And because of that, Dutch was transforming from the determined leader to the manipulative bastard, a version of himself that had once shot at Arthur and John thinking they were rats.

"Hosea has lost his spine," he heard Dutch say to Micah. "You are the only one whose been loyal."

Sadly, Arthur realized that soon it was time to go. He just needed to determine who would go with him, and how.

Hosea would go with him. The older man was just as disturbed by Dutch's behavior and maybe wanted to help, but if it came down between him or Dutch, he hoped Hosea would choose to leave. John and his family, as well. The betrayal of Dutch not looking for him after he was captured was still very fresh, and even he had confessed to Arthur, while they listened to Dutch's passive aggressive grumblings about loyalty, that he just didn't know Dutch anymore.

As for the rest, well, Arthur didn't expect them to be one giant family anymore, as much as he wanted it to be the case. But the world was changing, the country growing smaller by the day, and as much as he dreamed of all of them owning a piece of land together, it just didn't seem like the future they were headed towards. Not with the price on Arthur's head, and a lot of the others as well.

Being in camp was stifling, so Arthur went a little outside to take care of Dakota. He almost ran straight into Kieran.

"Oh, Mr. Morgan," he said. Arthur sincerely hoped that, with Colm dead, Kieran would survive. But he couldn't be sure yet.

"Hey Kieran, how are the horses?"

"Pretty well, but our supplies for them are running low. I've been meaning to go looking for some burdock root."

"Actually, about that," Arthur said carefully. "Maybe don't leave camp by yourself just yet. Colm may be dead, but the other gang members? If they find any of us, especially you, well, I'm just worried they might try to take revenge."

"Oh," said Kieran, growing a little pale.

"Look, I don't want to worry you, just for my sake when you leave camp, take me or Hosea or anyone you trust really."

"I don't really trust a lot of you just yet," Kieran admitted. "A lot of them still call me O'Driscoll."

"I know, I know. I'll try talking to them."

Kieran might go with him. He noticed that Mary-Beth seemed sweet on the boy, and maybe they could both be happy in a life together.

Dakota nudged his arm, looking for peppermints, which he obliged. Kieran laughed. "She has you wrapped around her finger, doesn't she. Or hoof, I suppose."

"She's a good girl. How's Branwen doing?"

"Just fine!"

He was glad that his relationship with Kieran was better this time around. Having Arthur's friendship and protection granted Kieran an easier time with the rest of the gang, and they were slowly opening up to the prior-O'Driscoll. Kieran knew two things: horses and fishing. The former was a good conversation for Arthur, and the latter actually opened up a tentative friendship with Javier, though that was still in the beginning stages.

Another positive, which he discovered not long after returning with John, was that Beau had taken Arthur's advice, saved up a little money (though Arthur did help a little in that regard) and took Penelope out of Rhodes. The two families had kept the incident hushed up, and Arthur was sure they were furious, but he was glad those two got out of the area before the inevitable disaster occurred.

Back in camp, the loud voices of Bill and Micah could be heard, talking about a security job for the Grays. Arthur couldn't suppress the shudder as they looked for volunteers, and started to walk over. But Sean didn't step up this time. As it turned out, between Arthur's advice to stay clear of Micah and the recent split in loyalties, Sean barely acknowledged Micah. "I helped burn their farm, now you want me to work for them?" he asked.

"Well, if Sean is going to be a coward," Micah began, and Arthur had to grab Sean by the arm to stop him from beating Micah into the ground, "then anyone else want in on this? Morgan? You want to get off your ass and bring in some money for this family you claim to love so much?"

"I ain't working with you, Micah. And I suggest that no one else do either."

"What's your problem with me, Morgan?"

"Well, where do I start? The fact that every job you suggest ends in a shootout? That you got Dutch to leave John after he was captured, carrying out one of your plans?"

"You're just afraid of a little action. Anyone else want in on this?"

Arthur whirled his head around to the crowd, scared that someone else would fill the vacant spot and be killed. But no one moved. Bill, furious, yelled, "Fine! More of a cut for us, I suppose!"

"Bill, wait!" Arthur shouted after them.

"Oh, you want in now, don't yah?"

"No, Bill, don't do this. This feud between the families can only end badly." Bill may be too blind to realize where Dutch was leading the gang, but he didn't deserve to die in this mess.

"Shut up, Morgan. Some of us are still loyal." Bill turned and left.

It was very possible that this would be the last time he saw either Bill or Micah. But Arthur refused to think on it. Today was also the day that little Jack was kidnapped and given to Angelo Bronte.

"Who is on watch today?" Arthur asked the remaining group.

"Me and Kieran," said Lenny.

"I'm worried, Lenny. This plan Dutch has is insane, and I'm afraid for the people here. I'm going on watch, too. Charles? Will you join us?"

"Of course, Arthur."

"Good. I'll go with Kieran, Charles you go with Lenny."

He walked through the woods, eyes peeled for the Braithwaite sons. The sun was slowly setting in the west, and he wondered what had become of Bill and Micah in town. Surely, the ambush was over, if it was to happen at all!

When the gunshot echoed in the woods, Arthur's blood turned cold. He ran, pushing past the branches and bushes. He almost missed it, but out of the corner of his eye he saw it.

No.

"No no no no no, Lenny, please no!"

The young man was gasping for air, his hands stained red as he desperately pressed them into his stomach. Arthur added his own hands on top of Lenny's. He groaned, but locked his eyes onto Arthur.

"Jack, they took Jack."

"You're going to be alright Lenny, stay awake for me, alright?"

"The Braithwaites, I couldn't-" he was cut off by a weak cough. Arthur pressed harder onto the wound.

"You did good, Lenny, we'll get Jack back. Just stay with me."

Charles was running over, as was Kieran, but Arthur turned towards the camp. "HELP! WE NEED SOME HELP!" When he turned back to Lenny, his eyes were falling shut. "No, don't do this to me, kid."

This wasn't supposed to happen. Lenny wasn't even supposed to be in danger! Sean was the one Arthur had been trying to save, and little Jack, but now Lenny was the one paying the price for his sorry attempts. He slid his arm under Lenny's shoulders, lightly shaking him to try to keep him conscious. But it was no use. Lenny's eyes stayed shut, his body limp.

"Arthur, we need to get him back to camp," Charles said. He nodded, then moved his other arm under Lenny's knees and lifted. They rushed back to camp, met midway by people who had heard the noise from the woods.

And Dutch was there, Dutch's face pale with terror. "Oh god, no, son!"

But Arthur didn't spare Dutch even a glance, carrying Lenny to his tent and meeting Reverend Swanson, who was thankfully sober. He laid the younger man on the cot and continued to press into Lenny's stomach until a gentle hand fell onto his shoulder. Hosea guided Arthur out of the tent, but even still Arthur looked over his shoulder to make sure Lenny was still breathing. His chest still rose and fell in shallow gasps.

Hosea pushed Arthur into a chair. "Arthur," he started, but didn't know what else to say.

"Not Lenny, please not Lenny." He choked over the words. There wasn't much comfort that Hosea could offer, and he went back into the tent to help.

"Arthur! What happened?" Dutch demanded.

"The Braithwaites came. Lenny said he saw them take Jack. He must have tried to stop them."

"No, not Jack, too! Goddammit!"

Abigail ran over. "Jack's gone! Did they take my son?"

Arthur looked up at her, feeling hopeless. "Abigail, I'm sorry. It was the Braithwaites."

"We'll get him back, Abigail. I promise you. We need to get Micah and Bill, and then we will ride over to the Braithwaite estate and get him back!"

But Bill and Micah were probably dead, and Jack was being given to Angelo Bronte. Could he possibly intercept them before the exchange occurred? Keep Dutch from ever meeting the man? In the end, he couldn't bring himself to get up and leave. Jack was fine, in fact he had seemed to view the entire experience as a weird vacation. Lenny was more important.

"Dutch!" came a call from the tree line, and Micah was riding back. Alone. With blood covered clothes. "It was an ambush. They killed Bill!"

"Goddammit, NO!"

Micah looked around the solemn camp before his eyes landed on Arthur, who was staring at nothing. "Jesus, cowpoke, what happened to you?"

For the first time, Micah sounded genuinely alarmed, and it caused Arthur to take in his bloodstained hands and clothes. All Lenny's blood, covering his shirt and vest and his pants as well. Fortunately, Dutch answered for him.

"The Braithwaites came and took little Jack. They shot Lenny when he tried to stop them. Micah, come with me, we need a plan."

Someone was standing next to Arthur, and he eventually looked up to see that it was Charles. "Come on, you should get cleaned up." Arthur allowed himself to be led to his tent, but then he caught a look at himself in his shaving mirror. Suddenly, he gasped and doubled over, black spots appearing in his vision.

"Breathe, Arthur, it will be OK." Charles was rubbing circles into his back. Eventually Arthur was able to stand, and he dug into his chest for a change of clothes. Then he walked back to his spot near the tent where Lenny was, hopefully, still living.

Not long after, Hosea left the tent, hands bloody and shaking. Arthur was in front of him immediately. "Is he still alive?" he asked.

Hosea sighed. "Yes. But it's not good. I don't know if we can fix this, Arthur."

Arthur's head fell into his hands. "It's not fair," he said, "I was supposed to protect him. And now Bill is dead, too."

"Arthur, listen to me! It's not your fault."

"Then why am I here, Hosea? I'm supposed to protect them. I have to protect them! Otherwise, what was the point?"

Hosea didn't have a response to that, instead he sat with Arthur and hugged him.

"Arthur, Hosea," Dutch interrupted. He seems proud at having rallied the entire gang together for the first time since John had been captured, everyone determined to save one of their own. "We're going after the Braithwaites. We are getting Jack back!"

"I have to stay here," Hosea said. "They might need help with Lenny."

"Arthur, let's go!"

But Arthur didn't move, still leaning into Hosea.

"Dutch, I think Arthur should stay here."

"He's our best gun!"

"Dutch!" Hosea gestured to Arthur. "He's not in a state to fight right now."

"Fine. Everyone, let's head out!"

Most of the camp left for the manor, but soon Reverend Swanson exited the tent. His face was grim. "It's not good. I did what I could, but it's not enough."

"There has to be something," Arthur said.

"I gave him some medicine for the pain. We can keep him comfortable, but it might be slow. Stomach wounds… it's a slow death sometimes."

It was worse somehow. Worse than watching Lenny fall ten feet in front of him. Now he had to wait while the kid slowly succumbed.

"No," Arthur shook his head, "no, we can't just give up on him. There's a doctor in Saint Denis, what if we got him there." Also, Jack was in the city.

Hosea regarded him sadly. "It might not work, son."

"We have to try! I'll hitch the horses up to a wagon!"

"I'll help you," Hosea said. They got the two calmest draft horses and loaded blankets into the back of the wagon. Reverend Swanson and Arthur carried Lenny carefully into the back.

Hosea and Arthur sat in the front to drive, Reverend Swanson in the back to keep an eye on Lenny. It was a slim chance, but he couldn't give up on him yet.

Not yet.