Chapter Text
John tried to avoid staring at Isaac and Arthur all day, but still he felt his eyes gravitating towards them. More often than not, his brother was surrounded by Hosea and Bessie and Annabelle and sometimes Susan, though not so much after he had heard Isaac call Susan mean. He forced himself to hide his laughter behind coughs after that one.
He wasn’t jealous. That would be stupid. Of course little kids needed attention. John remembered that from his short stay at the orphanage after his father got himself killed. The kids needed all their food made for them, the nuns would tie their shoes and help them with their clothes. But John was considered to be one of the older kids. If John needed help with anything, he was ignored or told to figure it out. If he complained, he would be hit, then screamed at as a reminder not to be jealous.
He was almost an adult now. He went on his first job with Dutch a week ago. It was stupid to be jealous.
He couldn’t help it.
“Susan! Guess what I found!” Annabelle called out as she returned from town atop her dappled gray Arabian, Leo. Dutch stole the gorgeous horse for her quite early in their courtship, when Annabelle became an official member of the gang. His full name was Leonardo, after a painter that Annabelle read about once, but Annabelle usually just called him Leo.
John tried not to be happy about how Annabelle didn’t go straight to Isaac and Arthur like she normally did.
“What is it?” Susan asked.
Annabelle laughed and put on what she referred to as the high society voice, straightening her back and putting her chin up. “Well, I happened to be in the restaurant near all those fancy houses when I overheard Mrs. Cunningham telling her friends about her luncheon tomorrow afternoon, and how it will rival those parties they have in New York City. And of course I had to mention how my husband and I had just moved here from New York.”
“Oh, of course!”
“Yes, so I introduced myself. And I could tell they were trying to send me away, even with the enticement of having an actual New Yorker at their party. Mrs. Cunningham tried to gently let me know that they’ve never had a colored girl attend before. So I said, ‘No one ever seemed to mind at a New York party!’”
“Do they? In New York?” Susan asked, genuinely curious.
“Who knows, I’ve never been! But Mrs. Cunningham bought it. Though then she said something like, ‘But this is a women’s only party, so you can’t bring your husband, and you don’t want to attend this party without a friend, do you? That would be rather lonely.’ Good thing I mentioned my dear friend, Susan!”
Susan took Annabelle by the arm, leading her back to her tent. “I guess we have to see what clothes we’ve got. We might need to go shopping.”
“Seems a good excuse as any to wash my hair and change it up a bit.”
“What are you ladies up to?” Dutch asked, having heard their giggling.
“We have an invitation to a fancy party just ripe for a bit of pickpocketing and information,” Annabelle said.
“But we may need some money for dresses,” Susan added.
“And you might get to see me with my hair down. And if some jewels happen to end up there, well, that’s not my problem! But don’t worry, I’ll be careful with it. I remember how easily small pieces can get stuck!”
John knew the incident she was referring to well. Annabelle’s black hair was made up of numerous small, tight curls that had an uncanny ability to lock items in place, and Annabelle was known to leave pencils tucked behind her ears for safe keeping. A twelve-year old John thought it would be a fun prank to put things in her hair, and it was until he selected a fork as the next item. It was Susan’s job to untangle the fork and separate the hair from it, and though the women had a good laugh about it afterward, John earned the scolding of a lifetime from Susan. Annabelle was far more gentle, taking John to the side and letting him know why it wasn’t okay. It endeared her to John, and Susan took the brunt of the future pranks.
Lately, Annabelle simply guided the curls into larger twists and then back into a bun.
“I’m looking forward to seeing what you find,” Dutch said. “And your outfit.”
“And what is your plan for the day?” Annabelle asked.
To John’s surprise, Dutch waved him over. “Hosea and I were thinking that it’s about time you got a proper horse.”
“Really?” John asked.
“Sure! You’re getting rather tall. And we made a good bit of money last week. What better way to celebrate your first job!”
“But what about Daisy?” he asked.
“I’m sure the stable can find her a good home.”
“Actually,” Hosea said, “I was thinking that Daisy might be a good pony for Isaac. One day, of course. But she’s not too old and was great for teaching John.”
If John was a little annoyed at Isaac being the center of everyone’s thoughts again, it was overshadowed by the idea of Daisy sticking with their gang. He did love that pony, but he was excited at the prospect of getting a horse. “Can we go today?”
“That’s up to Hosea. He’s the one taking you.”
“Can we?” John asked, turning to Hosea.
“I don’t see why not. Arthur, want to come with us? Take a break, get out of camp? Bessie said she’d watch Isaac.”
The way Hosea looked at Arthur, with a bit of mischief in his eyes, meant that Hosea had some sort of scheme cooking.
“Sure. Guess someone’s got to make sure John makes a good choice.”
“Hey!”
“He’ll do fine, Arthur,” Hosea said. “Go on, tack up your horse.”
Arthur went over to Bo, but Hosea followed John. “What are you planning?” John asked bluntly.
“I just thought Arthur might need a break. Isaac’s been a little clingy since that stagecoach.”
That was an understatement. Isaac didn’t leave Arthur’s side, ever. He heard the kid crying at night, and the whispered attempts from Arthur to keep him calm and quiet.
“And,” Hosea continued, “You two haven’t had much chance to talk since Isaac got here. It might be good for you. I have a feeling there’s some stuff you want to say.”
Damn old bastard.
Because there were many things he wanted to say to Arthur, but he wasn’t sure how to say them yet. And if he dealt with by avoiding Arthur and his kid, that was his business!
“Fine,” John said.
“That’s my boy,” Hosea said, raising his hand slowly and ruffling John’s hair. John ducked away and went to mount Daisy.
“Pa? Where are you going?” Isaac asked, running up to Arthur and Bo.
“Just into town with Hosea and John. You can stay with Bessie.”
“No, don’t leave!” Isaac shouted.
“I’m helping John pick a new horse. I won’t be gone long,” Arthur tried to say.
“No!” Isaac screamed, grabbing Arthur’s leg. “No, no, no, no!”
“Isaac, enough of this now, you hear!” Susan said.
“No!”
“Come on, sweetie,” Bessie said, holding out her hand.
“No! You’re not my ma!” Isaac said. “I want my ma. I want to go home!
“We can’t, Isaac,” Arthur said.
“I want to go home!”
“We can’t!” Arthur shouted. “This is home now!”
Isaac stepped back from Arthur, eyes wide. Bessie tried reaching for him, but he ducked away, right into Annabelle. She lifted him up easily, despite his twisting and struggling. “Why don’t we have a little chat, Isaac.”
“I want Mama!”
“I know you do. I know. But we’re going to have a chat.” They disappeared into Annabelle’s tent.
Arthur put on his hat, pulling it low over his eyes.
“Shall we?” Hosea said, and turned Silver Dollar down the trail and kicking him forward. John and Arthur followed behind.
“I shouldn’t have yelled,” Arthur grumbled.
“No, probably not. But I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Hosea said. “He can’t stay be your side all day, every day. A little time apart might be good for both of you.”
“I guess,” Arthur said unconvincingly.
“So John, what kind of horse are you thinking about getting? This stable has a good variety,” Hosea said.
“Strong, and big,” he said. John wanted a horse that could keep up over the long distances they often traveled. Daisy had been struggling a little with his weight coming to Colorado.
“I think there are a few that fit those descriptions,” said Hosea.
The rest of the trip was filled with Hosea giving advice on selecting a horse. Normally, Arthur would have added his own thoughts. Arthur absolutely loved horses, and usually took care of their small herd. But not that day. He just looked lost.
John felt the same. Hosea wanted John to talk to Arthur, but John didn’t know what to say.
“Here we are!” Hosea announced when they arrived. “Now I suggest looking inside the building. That’s where the best horses are.”
John ran off to the stable, determined to look each horse over before making his decision. There was a pretty nice Appaloosa, but the stallion didn’t seem to like him very much. He spent a little while next to the Standardbred, thinking about getting a race horse like Boadicea. Ultimately, the horse seemed too jumpy, not good for gunfights.
He kept returning to a chestnut Dutch Warmblood. The gelding snorted and bumped his outstretched hand.
“That one, son?” Hosea asked, coming up behind him.
“Yeah,” John said.
“He looks good,” Arthur said. “Pretty healthy.”
The stable owner appeared and said, “That’s a good choice. He’s one hundred dollars.”
John’s shoulders slumped. He didn’t have one hundred dollars, maybe once they fenced the rest of the items, but not now. He went to walk away, but Hosea said, “Seventy-five.”
“Ninety-five.”
“Eighty.”
“Ninety, and not a cent less, sir,” the owner said.
“Fine,” Hosea said, “But only if you throw in a new brush and some treats.”
“You have a deal!” the owner said, shaking his hand. Hosea pulled out the cash.
“You’re buying him for me?” John asked, completely shocked.
“Of course! We bought Arthur’s first horse for him.”
John remembered the adorable Paint Arthur had when he first joined the gang. Arthur ended up selling him cheaply to a nice family that lost their horse in an accident after he got Bo. Technically, Dutch and Hosea hadn’t bought Daisy for him. Daisy had been stolen from the homestead where… well… Dutch found him.
Hosea helped fill out the horse papers while Arthur quick ran to the general store. Soon, John’s new horse was saddled up and ready for the ride back to camp. But Hosea wasn’t done with them just yet. As they passed the field just before the creek, Hosea pulled up and said, “I think I want to do a little fishing before we get back. Why don’t you ride around this field with Arthur? Start bonding with your new horse, maybe talk a bit.” He sent John a wink.
John just rolled his eyes back. Of course that was the old man’s plan.
“I should be getting back,” Arthur tried to say, but Hosea shook his head.
“Nonsense! Spend a little time with John, you two have barely spoken since you got back.” With that, Hosea got off Silver Dollar with his fishing rod and turned the horse loose into the field. Silver walked a few feet away with Daisy and started grazing.
Arthur cleared his throat awkwardly. “Shall we?”
“Sure.”
They started towards the other end of the field at a trot, easy and casual. Bo’s long legs always ate up the dirt, but his new horse was keeping stride easily. After a few minutes, they nudged the horses up to a canter, circling around the field and coming back towards Hosea.
“You think of a name for him?” Arthur asked.
“Not yet.”
“Just pick a good one.”
“Like Boadicea?” John asked sarcastically. “Seriously, how did you ever come up with that?”
“Hey, Boadicea was a queen! She fought the Romans!”
“Where’d you even hear about her, anyway?”
“One of Dutch’s books.”
“You actually read that crap?” John laughed. “I ain’t naming my horse after some lady in a book.”
“I should hope not, you got a boy.” Pulling Bo back to a walk, Arthur abruptly changed the conversation topic. “So, uh, Hosea thinks we have something to talk about?”
He didn’t want to ask, not only because he didn’t think Arthur would answer, but also because he was afraid of the answer he could receive. But it was eating at him, had been ever since Arthur showed up with that boy.
“I guess,” he said, looking at the ground.
“Well, what is it?”
He couldn’t stop himself. He blurted it out, harsh and blunt.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me you had a kid?”
Arthur didn’t answer at first. In fact, John was drowning in the silence. Staring at Arthur expectantly, waiting for a word of reassurance, knowing nothing could be said that would make him feel better but hoping Arthur would at least try.
“Well?” John asked.
“Shit, I don’t know. It happened before you came along, and Dutch never seemed to like it brought up in camp. Honestly I’m surprised you never heard Dutch complaining about it when I went to visit. Where did you think I was going all those times?”
“I thought you were seeing Mary Gillis!”
“You didn’t know I had a kid but you know about Mary? I haven’t seen Mary in years,” Arthur said.
Arthur hadn’t told him about Mary, either. John overheard Susan complaining about her one of the times Arthur left and asked. Susan was more than happy to share the whole story about Mary, her short engagement to Arthur, and their eventual breakup when she decided that her father’s wishes for her future were more important than his brother. On top of that, Susan believed that Mary often used Arthur, playing on his love for her and using the helpless rich girl act to get him to do things for her that she deemed to be unpleasant. Naturally, John always assumed Arthur was running off to see her and that’s why Susan was annoyed. Maybe Susan hadn’t known about Isaac, either. Still, that didn’t excuse Arthur. “So, you just didn’t tell me?”
“I guess I… that part of my life was separate from the gang and… it just never felt right bringing it up here.” Arthur avoided looking at John, choosing to stare at the reins in his hand.
“But you brought him here.”
“His ma died. I had to.”
“I know, I just…” John didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t know where it was going, anyway.
“I’m sorry, okay? I should have told you.”
“Yeah, you should have,” John said, still sour. His horse, tired of just standing around, pulled his head forward to nibble on some grass.
Immediately, Arthur said, “Get his head up. He’s going to get grass stuck in his bit.”
“I know.”
“Don’t let him bully you around.”
“I know! Jesus,” John muttered.
“You did make a good choice,” Arthur said.
“Thanks,” he said quietly. “You know what? I bet my horse is faster than yours!”
“You know I have a race horse, right?”
“Bet I can get to the downed tree on the other side before you!” said John.
“You’re on!” Arthur laughed, but the laughed turned to a shout when John spurred his horse forward without warning. “Hey!”
John let out a triumphant whoop, but his lead didn’t last as long as he hoped. Boadicea bore down on him fast, and overtook him halfway across the field. “Dammit, Arthur!” John shouted after him, not that Arthur heard over the thundering hooves. He tapped his horse with the spurs, urging him on.
But Arthur was right, Boadicea was simply too fast. Cheering as he passed the fallen tree and pulling Bo up, Arthur took a moment to mock John, as usual. “Even with a fancy new horse, you still can’t beat me.”
“Shut up, Arthur,” John said.
“You want to try your luck on the way back?”
Arthur went to turn Bo around, but she pinned her ears and started tossing her head. John’s horse also danced nervously. “What is it, Bo?” Arthur asked.
A low, loud snort sounded behind them. A huge bull moose crept out from the bushes, pawing the ground. Arthur reached for his rifle, saying, “Easy, boy.”
The moose bellowed and charged.
Immediately, Boadicea spun and fled. Arthur twisted around, trying to aim back at the moose. But John’s horse didn’t run, instead he held his ground to the last second before sidestepping the monster and kicking out with his back legs. His hooves made contact, causing the moose to stagger a little. At the same time, Arthur fired, hitting the moose in the skull. The ground shook when it fell.
“Shit!” Arthur said. “John, you alright?”
“Yeah. That thing is huge!”
“I know. Haven’t seen a moose in some time. I forgot how big they are.”
“Hey Arthur, guess what?”
“What?”
John grin widened. “My horse is braver than yours!”
“Shut up! Your horse is dumber than mine.”
Another horse was running up behind them, and John turned to take in the color draining from Hosea’s face. “What happened? Why are you shooting?”
John pointed down at the moose and said, “Moose.”
“Charged us,” Arthur added.
“I’m glad you’re both alright!” Hosea whistled, and said, “Damn, what a beauty! We’re going to eat well tonight. You know what this means, right? You boys are going to learn how to skin a moose!”
Both John and Arthur groaned.
Skinning such a large animal was messy and time consuming. The sun was starting to set by the time they loaded up the meat, antlers, and pelt onto their horses, but all three had triumphant grins on their faces as they road into camp.
“Well, you had a productive afternoon,” Dutch said. “That’s a fine animal you got there, John. Both of them.”
“I thought of the perfect name for him,” John said. “Moose!”
“Moose? What kind of stupid name is that?” Arthur immediately said.
“Better name than Boadicea!”
“No, it’s not! Boadicea is a great name!”
“I think it’s wonderful, son,” Dutch said. “Moose will be a fine steed, I can feel it. Now, let’s have ourselves a feast!”
John began unloading the meat with Hosea when Isaac ran up to Arthur. “Pa! You came back,” he said.
“Of course I did,” Arthur said. “What did you do this afternoon?”
“Anna taught me how to braid hair, and we picked flowers.”
Bessie walked over, her hair in awkward, uneven braids with flowers sticking out. “You did a fine job,” Arthur lied.
“Can I do yours, Anna?” Isaac asked.
Annabelle smiled and said, “Not today, sweetheart. I’ve got to get my hair ready for a party! Another time, maybe.”
It was stupid to be jealous.
But as he watched Arthur wander off with his son, he knew that feeling wouldn’t fade anytime soon.