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Charles was cold. His big grey hoodie was snugly over him. The cold late-winter wind was sharp and brutal. But Charles wasn’t worried for himself. He was worried about the baby pressed against his body. He could deal with the cold. He wouldn’t care if the tip of his nose froze off or his fingers turned to ice. But if his baby was cold… If his kid was uncomfortable, well, he couldn’t have that. His baby was close to his chest, under the grey hoodie. He had one arm around the kid in the hoodie and the other one in the sleeve. His free hand was stuffed in the pocket. Another harsh breeze passed over them and he shivered. He rocked back and forth, generating energy. He looked around. No one else was outside in the small town of Strawberry. They were tucked carefully in their warm houses with fireplaces roaring and food in their bellies. Charles sighed. He pulled his worn-out bag close and looked inside. He had a few bottles of milk left. But his baby wouldn’t survive long out in this weather. He felt the child squirm. Charles pulled his head down into his sweater. He let his eyes adjust for a moment under the warm darkness of the thick wool. He could just make the shadow of the baby out. “Shh, sweetheart. I’m here. You’re okay,” he cooed. Guilt wracked his stomach. What a failure of a father he was. A month in, he was homeless, jobless, and alone. He had gotten a pretty working girl pregnant accidentally. He was drunk and made… a questionable decision. He left that morning, but six months later, she hunted him down. Told him she didn’t want the brat. So he was either going to take it or it was gonna be shipped off to an orphanage. She gave Charles a week. He spent that week looking for a job. A home. Something. Anything. But no one would hire someone like him. A man coming from a Black father and an Indian mother. Most people took one look at him and turned him away. Still, he found a job at the local store. But after the baby was born… he was alone. No one could watch the kid while he worked. She gave birth to the most beautiful thing on the planet and left them. And now Charles was here, sitting and freezing half to death with his daughter. He was tasked with naming her. Caring for her. Making sure she would never go hungry or cold. And he was failing at those. Well… he’d chosen her name. Itawa. It was one of the only words he could remember his mother saying to him.“ Niye itawa, mitawa ciski,” his mother’s voice reverberated in his head. You belong, my son. Charles closed his eyes and sighed. He didn’t much feel like he belonged anywhere. Nowhere was meant for him. But he could work to make sure his daughter belonged somewhere. But he also knew he’d need for her to have another name. She wouldn’t make it anywhere with an Indian name. But he hadn’t figured that name out yet.He’d spent most of his money on milk for her. He would keep her alive, no matter what. He had only known this thing a month. And yet, he would kill or die for her in a heartbeat. Without hesitation. The wind was like blades on Charles’ skin. He couldn’t take it anymore. Charles grabbed his bag and stood up. He trudged across town in the snow to the hotel. He pushed the door open. The hot air thawed every bit of him. He sighed and relaxed. The owner immediately furrowed his brow. “We ain’t got room,” he snapped. “Please, just let me warm up for a moment, sir. Just five minutes,” Charles begged. The owner shook his head and Charles saw his hand twitch under the counter. But he couldn’t focus on that. Itawa started fussing, her small body writhing against Charles’ arm. He ripped his sweater off and pulled her close. “Shh. Shhh,” he murmured. He supported her head as he brought her to his chest. He bounced, trying to calm the baby. He felt her tiny lungs fill with air. The next moment, she screamed. Charles sighed and rubbed her back. Her screams were shrill and piercing. He hated knowing he was doing something wrong. “Sir?” the hotel owner said. Charles felt his temper flare. He wheeled around, furrowing his brow and curling his lip. “What?” he snapped. The owner cringed a little, guilty. “I… I have an extra room. No charge for the night,” the owner said quietly. Charles froze. “What?” he asked softly. The owner approached him and handed him a key. “Just for the night. I don’t like seeing babies struggle,” he said. Charles felt gratitude flood every inch of his body. “I… I…” Charles stuttered. The owner shook his head and walked behind the desk. Charles felt tears prickle his eyes. He blinked rapidly and headed up the stairs. He unlocked the door and walked inside. He placed the bag down and bounced Itawa around. She calmed finally. Charles sighed and pulled her close. “At least someone is watching over us. At least for now,” Charles whispered. The baby fussed. Charles pulled out a milk bottle and held it in his armpit. It was far too cold for her. She whined softly. Charles pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “I love you, daughter. More than life. I will always figure it out. Okay? I promise. I’ll never let you go hungry,” Charles whispered. He knew the girl couldn’t understand him. But his heart was full of love for the little baby in his arms. She whined softly and he felt her lips on his chin. Charles laughed quietly. He checked the temperature of the bottle. Warm. Well… warmish. He cradled the baby in the crook of his arm and offered her the bottle. She accepted and started eating. He had never held a baby before. But in the month or so that he had her, he became an expert. He paced slowly around the room, letting his daughter eat. He never wanted to be a father. But now he was. And he was damn glad he was. He never knew he could be in love like this. Itawa drank half her bottle. Charles rocked her to sleep. He looked around for things to make a makeshift crib. He approached the dresser and pulled a drawer from it. He placed it on the bed and put a pillow in it. He grabbed the spare blanket and padded the drawer. He gently placed his daughter into the drawer-now-crib. He kissed her forehead and placed it on the floor. She, miraculously, never woke up. God. He loved her. He stared at the baby below him. She had his skin tone, just a shade lighter. She already had loose curls of dark hair clinging to her scalp. It wasn’t nearly as curly as Charles’ hair. But he inherited a lot of his mother’s hair genes. Long. But his father had given him curls. It looked like he passed that down to her. Her mother had given her freckles across her cheeks. And the lighter tone in her skin and hair. She was a gorgeous woman. Not that Charles enjoyed their company that often. But she had curled her light brown hair. Her blue eyes were covered with makeup. Her lips, thin but enticing were pale pink. And her skin was soft. White. Covered in freckles. If she was a man, she’d be exactly Charles’ type. He cringed at his thought. He tried not to look at men like that. It was damn dangerous. Hell, the only reason he even fucked a woman was because of what happened. Charles shook his head, the memory still far too painful. He reached down and touched Itawa’s chest. He calmed and closed his eyes. For a night. Just a night, and he would figure this out tomorrow. Charles woke up a few times in the night to feed Itawa. He thought of a non-Indian name for her. But none came to mind. It wasn’t that he wanted to hide her heritage. It’s just that… it was difficult for someone like her. And he wanted to make it easier. He would always call her by her real name. But everyone else would call her by her white name. She could decide when she was older which name she wanted to go by. Charles was dozing in the morning, the early morning sun filtering in his room. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. He glanced at his daughter. Asleep. Charles needed to run to the bathroom. She’d be okay for two minutes alone. Charles dressed quickly and practically ran to the outhouse. A layer of snow on the ground crunched under his boots. He washed his hands and headed back in. “Sir,” the owner said. Charles slowed. “I’ll be down in a moment. I promise. Thank you,” he said. “No… Wait!” the owner called. Charles was halfway up the stairs. He walked back down. The owner extended his hand. “I’m Walter. Walter Potts,” he said. Charles took his hand. “Charles Smith. I do appreciate it,” Charles said cautiously. Walter opened his mouth and closed it. “Listen, son, I can see that you’re struggling. I get it. I raised my twin boys alone. I understand your situation,” he said. Charles nodded once. “I… You got a job?” Walter asked. “No, sir. I had one at the store but… after she was born, no one was there to help me. And no one wants a screaming baby in the store,” Charles said. Walter sighed. “I need someone on night shift. I’m getting old. I can’t stay up that late,” he said. Charles blinked. “You can stay in the cabin in the back. It’s small as hell and it leaks in the rain, but it’s a roof over your head. And your baby. Keep your kid with you on the night shift. I don’t mind. All I ask is that you don’t steal. You work. And you listen. Can you do that?” he asked. “Sir… I… Are you sure?” he asked. “Yes. I can’t pay you much. But enough to get some food in y’all’s bellies. And a place to stay,” Walter said. Charles extended his hand. “Thank you,” he said genuinely. Walter shook his head and smiled. “I think most people forget that we were all young parents once. Even I did last night. You’ll survive this, son. I promise,” he said. Charles felt a lump in his throat. “Thank you,” he whispered. Walter handed him a key to the cabin. Charles sighed softly, unable to express his feelings. But Walter just smiled and nodded. He walked back to behind the desk. Charles headed upstairs to grab his bag and daughter. She was just starting to fuss a little, a small wrinkle in the middle of her forehead. Charles softened and picked her up. “Come on, little mouse. We’ll be okay,” he whispered. She calmed against him. He gathered his stuff, tidied the room the best he could with one hand, and walked down the stairs. Walter glanced up and grinned.“What’s the name?” he asked. Shit. Charles had to make a choice now. He paused and looked at his daughter. He said the first name that popped into his mind, besides her Indian name. “Rosemary,” he said. Walter chuckled. “Strong name for such a little girl. She’s got a strong daddy,” Walter said. Charles smiled. He walked out to the small cabin. Walter was right; it was a piece of shit. But it was theirs for now. He saw that Walter put an old crib next to the bed. The kindness made Charles’ throat constrict and his eyes burn. He brought Itawa— Rosemary’s head to his lips. She fussed for a second but calmed. “I love you, my daughter. My sweetheart. My heart. Everything. Everything I do is for you,” Charles whispered against her skin. He settled in quickly to his new job. It was easy enough. And Walter paid him weekly. Twenty dollars a week. It could be worse. Charles was able to afford food and milk. Sometimes, even a new gown for Rosemary if they were on sale. Walter would usually give him extra if the hotel had a busy week.He didn’t particularly like the town. But it was small and quiet. Enough visitors came in to keep them busy. Winter thawed into spring, then summer. Rosemary was growing fast. He still called her Itawa in private. But it was their secret. Just for them. She was almost seven months old, finally excited about food and remembering faces. She wasn’t very fond of anyone other than Charles. If a guest came in, she’d cuddle into him. Charles didn’t mind. It made him feel needed. It was late one night. Charles had saved up almost three hundred by putting away pennies for the last few months. He wanted to leave. But it would take careful planning. He’d need somewhere to go. Another job. He glanced at Rosemary in her bassinet. She was asleep, her curly hair falling into her face. Charles smiled and pushed it away from her eyes. He knew he should cut it. But he didn’t want to. He heard the bell on the door jingle. Two men walked in. One with a black hat on top of his dark curly hair and a styled mustache. He was in his forties, a cigar hanging out of his mouth. He was wearing a fancy black vest and a white shirt. His companion was slightly shorter than him. He was wearing a larger black hat, the brim wide and covering most of his face. His silver hair was just visible under the fabric. He was wearing a plain orange vest with a white shirt. A red bandana was tied around his neck. Charles felt the hairs on his neck rise. Something about these men was off. He just couldn’t place it. Nevertheless, he smiled. “Welcome to the Strawberry Hotel, gentlemen. How can I help you?” he said amicably. The shorter of the men smiled. “Hello! You’re new. Although, we haven’t been out here in a while. Walter die yet?” the man asked. Charles bit back a laugh. “No. Just tired of doing the night shift. You know him?” Charles asked. “Oh, me and him go back a while, son. We’ll take a room. One bed,” the man said. “Two,” his friend said. The man raised his eyebrow and looked at his companion. “Two,” the friend said again. The older of the men rolled his eyes and turned back to Charles. “One is fine,” he said. The other man grumbled. Charles smiled a little. He looked in the book and chose one of the rooms. He heard Rosemary fuss. He glanced at her. She looked uncomfortable. She probably needed to be burped. Both men looked towards the sound. A look filled the older man’s eyes that he couldn’t decipher. “Sorry. Here you are. One dollar,” Charles said. The younger man handed Charles a dollar. Charles handed him the key and scooped Rosemary up. He bounced her and she settled. “Come on, old girl,” the younger man said. The older man stared at Charles, his eyes soft. He smiled for a moment and headed up. No one else showed up during the night shift. It was about five in the morning. Charles was holding Rosemary against his body. He heard someone walk down the stairs. It was the older man of the pair. “Need something?” Charles asked. He shook his head. He leaned against the counter, eyes curious. “How long you been here?” he asked. Charles shrugged. “Few months,” he said. He gently put Rosemary down. She snuggled into her blankets. “You like it?” the man asked. “Keeps money in my pocket. Gives me a place to live,” Charles said. He felt eyes on the back of his head. He turned just slightly, relying on his peripheral vision. “There’s a lot more to life than just living, my friend!” the man said, smiling. Something about this was off. Charles turned around. The other man had his hand in Charles’ pocket. He froze and grinned at Charles. “You wanna take your hand outta my pants, friend?” Charles asked. “You idiot. I told you to wait!” the older man said. The younger stood up, crossing his arms.“You said as soon as you started the story to rob,” he argued. “Get out,” Charles said. “I told you to wait until I was halfway to grab it,” the older man said. “Well, how am I able to know when you’re almost done?” he snapped. “I didn’t even start!” his friend said incredulously. “As thrilling as this is, gentlemen… get out,” Charles repeated. They turned to Charles. “Sorry son. I’m gonna need your money,” the younger of the men was reaching for his gun. Charles rolled his eyes. He pushed Rosemary behind the sturdy cash register. The next second, he grabbed his sawed-off shotgun and his pistol. He was aiming at them before their guns were drawn. “I ain’t gonna ask again. Now, my daughter is peacefully asleep. And if I have to set off my guns to wake her up, I will hunt your ghost down and kill it as well,” Charles said. The younger of the men raised his gun. But the older put his hand on him. “Come on. He’s got a kid,” he said softly. “So do we,” he murmured. Charles sighed. “Listen. I get it. Kids eat half your damn paycheck. Usually more. But you can’t just go around robbing. It ain’t good. Many other folks been in your position. A lot still are,” Charles said. The men exchanged a glance. “Listen. The small cabin behind here. It has a couple hundred under the mattress. Just take it. It’s all my savings,” Charles said. He slowly lowered his guns. The older of the men pushed his friend back, whispering softly to him. “—don’t need it. Come on, Dutch. He’s living in this shitty town. Doing this shitty job,” Charles could just hear him. “Little Jacky is hungry. Even with John back, he ain’t pulling his weight. This winter was tough. And we can’t find a big score,” Dutch whispered. “No,” the older man whispered. “Jesus Christ, you two. Just take my damn money and leave me alone,” Charles snapped. “No. No, son. I’m sorry,” the older man said. “Hosea—!” Dutch snapped. Hosea pushed him out of the door. Charles rolled his eyes and put his guns away. He checked on Rosemary. Still asleep, oblivious to the danger her father was in. He brushed her hair from her face and smiled at her. “It still is the wild west out here, little mouse,” he murmured. He chuckled to himself. He was surprised that his heart was so calm. But when it came to his daughter… nothing was off limits. The sun rose slowly and filtered into the various windows across the lobby. He heard Rosemary fuss. Charles picked her up, exhaustion finally setting in. He patted her back and bounced. Walter came in a few minutes later, his eyes heavy with sleep and a cup of coffee in his hands.“Any trouble?” he asked. “Some idiots tried to rob me. Scared them off,” Charles said. “Good. Dealt with them with no mess,” Walter remarked. “Just raised my guns. They seemed more interested in arguing with each other than robbing,” Charles said. Walter barked out a laugh. “Mentioned you, though,” Charles said. Walter looked at him. “They say their names?” he asked. Charles thought for a moment. “Dutch was one. The other one was… Harold? No. Not that. I don’t remember,” Charles said. Walter’s eyes widened. He went behind the desk and dug for something. “What?” Charles asked. Walter pulled a yellowing poster from a drawer and put it on the counter. Staring back was the younger man, Dutch. It wasn’t fully true to his likeness, but it was close. Charles raised his eyebrow and looked at Walter. “That him?” he asked. Charles nodded. Walter sighed heavily. “Then you were damn lucky to survive it,” he said. Charles looked back down. Written across the top was a bounty. Seven thousand dollars. “Jesus,” Charles whispered. Walter shrugged. “They usually pay a lot. Because they know they’re wanted. Dutch Van Der Linde and Hosea Matthews. They keep to themselves and I don’t need to get on their bad side. Sorry they tried to rob you, son. Must’ve thought you were easy pickings,” Walter said. “Well, they weren’t good. If he has that big of a bounty, he should be a better robber,” Charles said. Walter laughed. He nudged Charles out of the way, giving him a smile. “Get some sleep. If you need me to watch her later, I’ll be happy to,” he said. “She won’t like that,” Charles replied. Walter barked out a laugh. “She is a tough nut to crack. I think I will,” he said. Charles picked his daughter up and walked to his small shack. Rosemary was just starting to stir. Charles put her down and watched her. She crawled for a little while, babbled at him, and worked to stand by herself. Charles chuckled. He scooped her up and placed her in the old crib Walter gave him. She fussed for a moment. Charles placed her stuffed rabbit in the crib. She calmed and took it. Charles crawled into his bed and closed his eyes. Rosemary would scream if she needed him. It felt like moments before she was crying for him. Charles, eyes still blurry with sleep, stumbled out of his bed. He reached down and pulled her up. She whined against him. “Oh, little mouse. It’s okay. I’m here,” Charles murmured. He felt her tiny hand wrap around his hair and pull. “Oww. Oww. Come on,” he groaned. Rosemary pulled harder. Charles peeled her off. “Okay, miss. Rude. My hair is not a plaything,” Charles said. Her lower lip puffed out. “Oh. Do not start!” Charles said. She squinted and the next second, she was wailing. Charles rolled his eyes. He bounced Rosemary until she calmed. “I know. You’re just hungry. And annoyed at me,” Charles said. He sat her in the highchair and got to work on making some food for her. He had some applesauce and mashed some raspberries for another texture. He placed the fruits in front of her and let her explore. He cooked himself some lunch, a turkey leg and some carrots, while she ate. Well, spread the fruit around her face and shirt was more accurate. He sat next to her and ate. She looked more interested in his plate. He mashed a carrot with his fork and fed her. Her face went through six expressions before she landed on content. Charles chuckled. “I like carrots too, little mouse,” Charles murmured. He was almost done with his lunch when there was a knock at the door. Charles furrowed his brow. He wasn’t expecting anyone and not many people in Strawberry came calling. Charles got up and cracked open the door. Standing there was the older of the men, Hosea Matthews. Charles’ hand on the door pushed it close and the free one was reaching for his knife. “Wait! Son, please. Just… wait,” Hosea said quickly. Charles glanced at his daughter. She was focused on her smashed berries. Charles pushed the door open and stepped out. He kept a foot in the door, cracking it in case it was a setup. He held the knife higher, the blade almost touching Hosea’s shirt. “You have a few seconds to explain otherwise I’ll gut you like a fish,” Charles said lowly. Hosea raised his hands but focused on Charles. “I understand. Listen… I felt bad about trying to rob you. I don’t know if you noticed, but we didn’t take any of the money. And I promise, we ain’t gonna try to rob you. Dutch ain’t here. I’m sure Walter told you who we are. We aren’t bad, son. We truly aren’t,” Hosea said. Charles glanced back into the shack. Rosemary was still playing with her food. “I don’t care what you do. Just do it away from us,” Charles said. “Do you want to join us?” Hosea asked. That was the last thing Charles ever expected to hear. He dropped the knife. “What?” he said. “We have a child too, just a few years older than yours. We will all keep your child safe and fed and warm. I won’t deny that it’s hard sometimes. It is. And you would need to work. Around the camp and outside of it. We rob, yes. But usually on those who deserve it. We’re a little desperate lately but that’s because we’ve had sickness. And I know Walter is hell to work with. He’s annoying. Overbearing,” Hosea said. Charles cracked a smile. “He saved me. Truly. Months ago I was starving and cold. He let me work in the hotel. Gave me this shit sack to live in. Pays me,” Charles said. “You can make all your savings in one job with us,” Hosea said. “By robbing? Stealing? Killing? No, Mr. Matthews. What example does that set for my daughter?” Charles said. Hosea sighed a little. “May I come in?” he asked. Charles thought for a moment. But he opened the door and let him in. Hosea looked around and hummed. He approached Rosemary. She looked at Charles, worried. “She’s a little shy,” Charles supplied when she looked away from Hosea. “Jack was too. But he grew up around so many people, he couldn’t be shy anymore,” Hosea said. Charles chuckled a little. He walked over and stood close to Rosemary. He felt her take his arm. Hosea sat on the other side of the small table. “She’s everything to me, Mr. Matthews. I cannot put her in danger. No money is worth that,” Charles said. “Well, we’re doing okay right now. We’re just outside Blackwater. We’ll probably get enough money to head west soon. Buy a huge plot of land and rest. We’re getting close to that. We just need to push a little longer. And I think you’re good. You’re interesting. And you care about that kid more than anything. I know that. Wouldn’t you want a community to raise her in? Somewhere where she will be taken care of? Cared for deeply? Never go hungry again?” Hosea said. Charles sighed. “She can’t know me as a robber. She’ll have it hard already as an Indian and Black woman. And to have her father as an outlaw? That’s not giving her a chance. Not one,” Charles said. Yes, having a community was something he craved, craved it so deeply it ached his bones. But a community of outlaws? “How many people are looking out for you? And for her? You could have all of us. That’s twenty-two of us looking out for your daughter. She will never be alone. Rarely be hungry. Grow up outside, open air. Learn how to hunt, fish. Everything,” Hosea said. Charles looked at Rosemary. She was frowning a little while looking at Hosea. Charles put his hand on her face. She looked up at him. Rosemary looked at him with such conviction. Charles wondered if she knew every secret in the world. The way her eyes looked, he was sure she did. “I don’t know. Family would be nice. But I need to keep her safe. Can you guarantee her safety?” Charles said. Hosea sighed. He looked away. “Exactly. Why would you even want me? I ain’t a robber,” Charles said. “You caught Dutch. Ain’t no one ever caught him. Not in the twenty years I’ve been with him. You’re the first one who caught him pickpocketing. It was surprising. And interesting. And I was so damn impressed,” Hosea said. “He made a lot of noise,” Charles said. He felt Rosemary tug on him. He looked at her. She glanced at Hosea, worried. “He’s okay,” Charles said quietly. Rosemary frowned. “He didn’t make a lot of noise. He never does. He’s pickpocketed me more times than I want to admit. And I know him. I have never caught him. But you did. How did you do that?” Hosea asked. “I don’t know. I just felt it. I knew something was off,” Charles said. “No. Come on, son. What did you see? What did you feel? What did you hear?” Hosea said. Charles sighed and thought. “I… I saw you look. Just for a second. Your eyes flicked to the left. Just a moment. And the floorboard creaks right before the desk. And I just… felt… wrong,” Charles said reluctantly. Hosea smiled a little. “You’re a natural. You observe everything, don’t you?” Hosea said. Rosemary fussed. Charles glanced at her. She was staring at her empty cup. He grabbed it and filled it with milk. Rosemary drank while watching Hosea. “Does she do that a lot?” Hosea asked. “What?” Charles asked, glancing at her. “Stare,” Hosea said. Charles smirked a little. “Yeah. Especially if there’s someone new. She doesn’t quite like people. But she will stare,” Charles said. Hosea hummed softly. “What’s her name?” he asked. “Rosemary,” Charles said quietly. She looked at him and smiled her two-toothed smile. Charles smiled back. “Our kid, Jack, he’s about three. Sweetest little boy imaginable. Me and his mama are trying to teach him to read. His mama don’t read much. But at least I do. He loves to explore. Asks a lot of questions,” Hosea said. “I never wanted kids. But she came into my life and I couldn’t turn her away,” Charles said. “I understand. They come into your life and you’re stuck with them,” Hosea said. Charles turned toward him. “I know you’re trying to help. And I know you’d love to have someone as big as me in your gang. Someone who looks intimidating. And making money quickly would be wonderful. Having others around her, including another kid, would be wonderful. And I won’t deny that I sometimes miss sleeping outside and moving around all the time. That’s what I grew up doing. It was good. But I need to be good. I need to make sure I’m showing her the best way. She needs to be safe,” Charles said. “I understand. And I won’t say that we are always safe. But we protect those who are vulnerable with our lives. I can promise that. And you are gonna be put in danger sometimes. But if anything, God forbid, would happen to you, we have twenty people ready to care and raise her for you. Would you leave her with Walter?” Hosea asked. “No,” Charles said immediately. Hosea smiled. “What about me?” he asked. “I… No,” Charles said hesitantly. Hosea raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know you. And you’re an outlaw,” Charles said. Hosea laughed, coughing softly. “Don’t worry about the cough. Old sickness. You ain’t gotta answer now. But just think about it. We’ll be around for another week. Some of us are staying by Owanjila Dam. We’ll be there until next Saturday. Unless Mac robs someone. Then we might have to leave earlier,” Hosea said. “You’re not making this desirable,” Charles said. Hosea chuckled. “Listen. We’re a group of idiots. We rob, we steal, we make bad choices. But we’re a family. We feed each other. Keep each other safe. We help each other. It takes a village to raise those kids. And if you want a village, we will be it,” Hosea said. Charles sighed. Hosea got up and patted his shoulder. “Think about it, son. And you’re right. Of course, we could use someone like you. The invitation is there,” Hosea said. He smiled at the baby and headed to the door. “Thanks. I guess,” Charles said quietly. “Family is important, Charles,” Hosea said. He smiled at him and walked away. Charles sighed and thought for a minute. Rosemary was still drinking. She had her eye on the door, curious. Charles hummed softly. He realized he never said his name to Hosea. How did he know that?Charles furrowed his brow and looked at his daughter. She imitated him. Charles smirked. “What do you think, Itawa?” Charles asked. She sighed a little and reached out to him. Charles picked her up. “You’d have a kid to play with. Maybe like someone else other than me. Would that be so bad?” Charles murmured. He faced his daughter towards him. She looked at him with all the confidence in the world. Charles sighed. He was feeling less than confident. He was so damn confused. Rosemary touched his face. Charles looked at her. “I love you, little mouse. I will do everything for you. You know that, right?” Charles said. Rosemary babbled and smiled. Charles hugged her. “Anything,” Charles murmured.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“Stupid. This is stupid,” Charles murmured to himself. He had left Rosemary with Walter for the afternoon. He told him he was gonna go fishing. Easy enough lie. But he was going to meet Hosea Matthews and his gang. He thought deeply about it. And while there were many cons, he might as well look for the pros. And it was just a meeting. He was just going to talk. That’s all. He wasn’t going to join, no. Of course not. It was just a talk. Charles rode to Owanjila. He liked the area. It was peaceful. There was a lot of hunting around. And he knew the lake was full of fish. But he had to focus. And find Hosea. He saw a thin trail of smoke across the lake. Charles repressed a sigh. It was a choice and one he wasn’t sure about. But a talk wouldn’t hurt. Charles sighed softly. What was he doing? He was an idiot. Charles glanced up. He saw a thin trail of smoke towards the west. It was close. “Okay. Come on, Smith,” Charles mumbled. He nudged the horse he borrowed from Walter. She snorted but sped up. Charles was getting closer to the fire. He slowed down. He was sure they wouldn’t like someone just barging in. He let his ears wander. He could just hear the soft voices hidden in the forest. “Hold there!” a gruff voice snarled. Charles pulled on the reins. A man emerged from the undergrowth, his blonde hair haphazardly clinging to his skull. He had a thick mustache and a snarl on his face. He eyed Charles, annoyed. His hand was on his gun in the next moment. “What you want?” he barked. “Uhh… Here to talk to Hosea,” Charles said cautiously. The man’s light eyes flooded with surprise. “Really? You ain’t no lawman?” he snapped. “No,” Charles said. The man kept his eye on Charles. He turned his head slightly. “Hosea!” he called. Charles slid off the horse and waited. He kept his eyes away from the man. He had a feeling he needed to look smaller. Eventually, Charles heard footsteps. “Well. Mr. Smith. This is a surprise,” Hosea said. Charles looked up. Hosea had his hands on his hips and a wide smile on his face. Charles dipped his head a little. “Davey, take good care of that horse while I talk to my friend,” Hosea said. Charles took the reins and handed them to the sulky man. He grunted in response. Hosea beckoned Charles closer. His arm went around Charles’ shoulders. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Charles said quietly. “No! No, you’re fine, son. I hope Davey didn’t say anything stupid to you. I would’ve preferred to have his brother in camp and Davey hunt but Dutch wanted different,” Hosea said. “He was fine,” Charles said. Hosea chuckled. “Well, I am glad you decided to come,” he said. “Just talking. That’s all I’m doing here,” Charles said quickly.“I know. Just a talk,” Hosea reassured. Charles looked at the small camp. He saw Dutch sitting by another man. He was around Charles’ age, with longer brown hair and an angry look on his face. They looked up as Hosea walked in. Dutch’s eyes filled with surprise. “Well, well, well. Mr. Charles Smith. What a treat,” Dutch said, smiling. He got up and extended his hand. Charles took it and shook his hand. Dutch chuckled. He turned toward his companion. “This is John Marston, Charles. One of my dearest friends,” he said. Charles nodded at the man. John examined him but nodded. “Dutch, let’s go somewhere more private,” Hosea said. Dutch nodded. He put a hand on Charles’ shoulder and walked him to the edge of the camp. There was a small meadow hidden in the trees. Hosea settled on a rock and smiled. Dutch examined Charles for a moment. “So you caught me stealing. And my Hosea said you may be interested in staying with us,” Dutch said. “Maybe,” Charles said. Dutch chuckled. “Son, I’ll be honest with you. This is hard. This life is hard. And we run a lot. So if you always want a roof over your head, it ain’t gonna happen. But I always make sure my family is fed and warm. And for the kids, we will protect them with our lives. All of us. John, he has a boy. Little Jackie. Just turned three. And everyone in our little family would keep him alive. No matter what. There is always someone to look after him. He is always protected,” Dutch said. “And me? I have to steal or kill for you, don’t I?” Charles said. Dutch smiled a little.“Well… nothing comes for free in this life, Mr. Smith. But I know you know that. I won’t put you in a lot of danger, Charles. Not until your girl is a little older. Maybe just intimidate someone occasionally. Do you have any other skills, my friend?” Dutch said. “I’m a good hunter. Can track damn near anything,” Charles said. “Truly?” Dutch asked. Charles nodded. “We could use another strong hunter. Best we have is Esuella. And when he goes out with John, nothing gets done,” Hosea said. Dutch laughed, throwing his head back. “You ain’t wrong, old girl,” he said. Charles saw Hosea shoot Dutch a wink. “Can you prove it?” Dutch asked. “Dutch,” Hosea scolded. “What?” Dutch asked. “He’s just talking with us. Ain’t no reason for him to prove himself. Besides, he caught you. He’s proved himself enough, “ Hosea said. They had a conversation with their eyes. Charles looked away. It felt private. Charles heard Dutch sigh. “Do you want to join us?” Dutch asked. Charles looked up at him. “I don’t want her to know what I do. I don’t want to put her in danger. And I don’t want to be shot in a robbery gone wrong and leave her alone. I can’t. I can’t leave her without me. She’s everything to me, Mr. Van Der Linde. My whole life. She is everything to me. If it wasn’t for her, I’d be dead. I mean that. And I cannot lose her or have her lose me. And this hotel job doesn’t pay too terribly,” Charles said. Dutch hummed softly. He reached into his vest pocket and lit a cigar. “Why do you want to join us? You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t thinking about it. So… why are you thinking about it?” Dutch said. Charles sighed. He crossed his arms and looked away. “I can’t deny it would be nice to have a lot of people around my daughter. She’s tired of being around me. I know it. Well. Maybe not. She’s shy. But there is truth in the saying that it takes a village to raise a child. I miss having people around for us. We have Walter, but he is just one man. And my daughter doesn’t like him much,” Charles said. Dutch chuckled. “Plus… it would be nice to have more money. Get her some things. Toys. Nice clothes. A decent coat before winter again,” Charles said. “We’d provide you and her with everything, Charles. And I promise, son, I wouldn’t put you on any dangerous job. Not for a long time. Just hunting and the occasional intimidation. You would be safe. She would be safe. Sleeping out under the stars. Ain’t nothing better for a baby than that, my friend,” Dutch said. Charles sighed. “You won’t go out on big jobs. Not until you’re ready. I promise, son. And I promise, God forbid, if anything at all happened to you, we would care for your daughter,” Dutch said.Charles stared at him. Dutch stared back. There was no sign of any dishonesty or sarcasm in his eyes. He was being truthful. Wholly. Completely. “Who is in your gang? The names?” Charles asked. Dutch chuckled. “Well… me and Hosea, obviously. You met John. And Davey. Davey has a brother, Mac. Mac’s out hunting right now. John’s with Abigail and their son is Jackie, little Jack. Then there’s Arthur, been with me almost as long as Hosea. Miss Grimshaw, Susan. She runs the camp with an iron fist. Then the rest of our gunslingers. Javier, Bill, Sean. Our camp cook, Pearson. The girls, always good to have on a job to distract idiots. Tilly, Mary-Beth, Karen. My girl, Molly. A few stragglers that bring in money sometimes. But we protect them anyways. They’re family. Uncle, Reverend Swanson, Trewlany. There’s a young man we’re working on breaking out of prison. He killed his father’s killers. Boy don’t deserve to be in prison for that. So he’ll join us too, hopefully,” Dutch said. Charles nodded. He glanced at Hosea. Hosea was looking at him evenly, gauging his reaction. “She would be safe around everyone?” Charles asked. “Of course. And if someone disrespects you or her, I said this to John too, you can punch them. I promise,” Dutch said. Hosea nodded. Charles chewed on his lip. There was no way he was seriously considering this. Running with a gang of outlaws? “Can I bring her around? The whole camp, just for a day to see if she can tolerate you all?” Charles asked. Dutch and Hosea exchanged a glance. They were talking without speaking again. “Yes,” Hosea said. “But bring some game,” Dutch said. Hosea scolded him with a glance. “Not a problem,” Charles said. Hosea rolled his eyes. “Next week, we’ll be back where we’re staying more permanently. How about you stay for two days or so? See how you fit in? See how the camp works?” Dutch said. “Sure,” Charles said. Dutch approached him and shook his hand. “Then, I will see you in a week, my friend,” Dutch said. He smiled at Charles and walked off, taking the smell of the cigar with him. Hosea chuckled. He walked up and patted Charles’ back. “He’s an odd man. But he’s good, deep down. Very deep down,” Hosea said. He kept a hand on Charles and led him to the front of the camp. “We need you, though, Charles. Dutch will never admit it. But to have a good hunter with us would be invaluable. And I know Abigail would love to have another kid around for Jack,” Hosea said. “I’d love a community for her, too. She’s shy. It would be good to get her out of her shell,” Charles said. “Oh, she will with us. John, he didn’t speak for months when we first got him. Now? Man don’t know how to be quiet,” Hosea said. Charles smiled a little. “Can I ask you something?” he said. Hosea nodded. “How did you know my name?” Charles asked. Hosea smiled a little. “Oh, son. That’s our job. To know everything. And it ain’t that hard to find a name. You got a map on you?” Hosea said. Charles laughed and handed him one. Hosea marked their camp on the map and handed it back. “Get back safe. And we’ll see you soon,” Hosea said. Davey handed Charles the reins to the horse. His face looked less annoyed. He nodded at Charles. Charles nodded back. He mounted the horse and headed off. It was too short of a ride back to Strawberry. He needed to think and think deeply. But he pulled up behind the hotel, left Walter’s horse by the door, and walked in. He could hear Rosemary crying at the front. He turned the corner. Walter was bouncing her, trying his hardest. But she caught sight of Charles and wailed. Her little hands extended past Walter’s shoulders. Charles saw him wince. He turned, causing the baby to scream louder. He spotted Charles and relaxed. “Oh thank God,” Walter sighed. He approached Charles and handed the girl off. Charles cooed and held her close. She quieted almost immediately. “Was she okay?” Charles asked, rubbing his daughter’s back. Walter nodded, shrugging. “Got her to eat about an hour ago. Been pretty fussy most of the day. But she’s been worse,” Walter said. Charles laughed. Rosemary wrapped her arms around him. “How’d you get on?” he asked. “None bit. All shy, I guess. Busy today?” Charles asked. “No. Go get some rest. I’ll get you when it gets late,” Walter said. Charles nodded. He took Rosemary’s stuff and headed back to his small shack. His daughter was sniffling a little still. He sat down and bounced her. Rosemary furrowed her brow for a moment but smiled after a few seconds. “There you are, little mouse. My girl,” Charles whispered. Rosemary smiled and leaned forward. She bit down on his chin, slobbering all over him. Charles laughed and pulled her off. “Silly goose. I gotta do some stuff, honey. I hope you can nap,” he said. He placed her into the crib. She fussed for a moment but calmed. Charles watched her as she hugged her stuffed rabbit close and started dozing. What was he going to do? Why was he seriously considering this? But Charles couldn’t deny how hard it was to raise his daughter alone. Sleepless nights working at the hotel, early morning feedings, and no time to himself. Even if he wanted to find her a mother, he wouldn’t have the time to. Not that he liked women. He just… Charles pushed the thought from his mind. Now wasn't the time to think about that. He had to think of his daughter. And think of what was best for her. He just didn’t know what was best for her anymore. It felt like every step of the way, he was failing her. And he loved his daughter. Loved her more than anything on the Earth. He loved her more than he thought it was possible to love a person. Charles sighed and stared at his sleeping daughter. “I love you, Itawa. And I will do everything I can to keep you safe,” Charles whispered. Charles saw the child smile in her sleep. Whatever he was gonna do, it would be for her. Charles spent the next week worrying about what to do. But he promised Dutch and Hosea he would see them. So he would. And two days… it was just two days. He thought it was stupid, that he was stupid. But he told Walter a lie. And he was on a horse riding to the Van Der Linde camp. Rosemary was tied to his chest and he was riding slowly. He had a deer on the back of the horse. Rosemary was half asleep, cooing softly. It was about noon, and he was rapidly approaching the camp. At least, he thought so. Charles chewed his lip. What if they weren’t there yet? What if he was riding into this camp to be killed? What if he was putting his girl in danger? Charles sighed. He saw the line of smoke just outside Blackwater. Charles could feel his heart pound in his chest. He unconsciously lifted a hand and put it over Rosemary’s back. He didn’t know if it was for her comfort or his. He got closer and saw the broody man sitting under a tree with a rifle in his hands. What was his name? John… yes… That was it. Charles approached, slowing down. The man looked up and Charles saw the ghost of a smile. “Charles, was it?” the man asked. “Yes. John…? Right?” Charles said. He nodded, smiling a little. He stopped his horse and looked at his daughter. She was still asleep. “Hey, Javier!” John called. Another man appeared within seconds. He eyed Charles cautiously but relaxed when he saw his companion calm. “Would you take him and his horse in? Let Dutch and Hosea know Charles is here,” John said. Javier nodded. Charles slid off his horse, keeping his hand on Rosemary. He walked alongside the horse while Javier led the steed. He smiled at Charles a moment. “Glad you got a kid. Poor Jack is so annoyed with adults,” Javier said. Charles chuckled. His heart was pounding out of his chest. This was stupid. This was moronic. He was leading his daughter into a death trap. The men and horse approached a small hill. Just as they got over, Charles saw the weirdest sight. Peace. There was a group of people, working around a fire. Tents and bedrolls scattered everywhere. Life. So much life in a small area. “You can hitch that horse right here. I’ll go get Dutch,” Javier said. Charles tied the borrowed horse to the hitching post, keeping his hand over Rosemary. He was anxious. And why wouldn’t he be? Charles sighed softly and rubbed his daughter’s back. He looked up and saw Javier walking toward him with Dutch and Hosea in tow. Dutch smiled as he walked up. “Well, well, well. I am surprised by you once again, my friend,” Dutch said. Charles chuckled. “There’s a deer for you. Caught it this morning,” Charles said, nodding to the back of his steed. Dutch’s eyes warmed. “Wonderful, son, thank you,” Dutch said. He clapped Javier on the back. “Get that to Pearson, Javier, would you?” he said. Javier nodded and went to untie the deer. Hosea approached Charles. He spotted the bundle in his arms and smiled. “How precious. She been asleep for long?” Hosea asked quietly. “Most of the ride,” Charles said. A shorter woman walked up to the small group of them. She smiled widely. “Well, hello, Mr. Smith, I presume?” she said. Charles nodded. “Good. I’m Susan Grimshaw. Me and the girls’ll unpack your stuff. Got you set up for the next couple days close to the fire,” she said. “That’s kind. But it’s no trouble,” Charles said. “Oh, no. You brought us that stag. Least we could do is unpack you and the little bundle on your chest,” Susan argued. “You ain’t gonna win an argument with her,” Dutch said. Charles sighed but nodded. He was surprised at how easily she hefted the large bags from the horse.“Tilly! Karen! Get over here,” she yelled. Charles watched two young women run forward and help her. Hosea put a hand on Charles’ back. “The one with the blonde hair is Karen. Tilly’s next to her,” Hosea whispered. Charles felt himself grateful for the man. He led Charles deeper into the camp. “Sitting at the table is Sean. He’s with Mac. Davey’s next to him, but you met him already. Javier met you with John at the front. Pearson is over there and Bill’s standing next to him,” Hosea said. He brought him over to introduce him. Bill and Pearson nodded at him. “Then, the girls. Karen, Tilly, Mary-Beth,” Hosea said. They were setting up Charles’ stuff, chatting amongst themselves. All of them smiled as Charles passed. “Hi,” Tilly said. Charles nodded at her. “Dutch is with Molly now. Then, at the campfire, we got Uncle, Swanson, and Strauss,” Hosea said. Charles nodded at the group of mismatched men. Hosea turned him around and Charles felt his breath catch. “And here’s Arthur, Abigail, and little Jack!” Hosea’s voice was blurring into the background now. Charles stared into the eyes of the man named Arthur. His blue eyes were slightly curious as he met Charles’. They focused on the bundle that held Rosemary. They softened. But Charles was staring at him. He was the most beautiful man Charles had ever seen. Strong shoulders, blue eyes, and a mop of light brown hair. He had freckles dotting his face and his skin was a gentle tan. He looked… Charles blinked and looked down. “What’s on your chest?” Jack asked. Charles smiled. He knelt. Jack looked at his mom, who glanced at Hosea. Hosea must’ve nodded because Jack approached. He was a little shy, approaching hesitantly. But he saw the baby and smiled. “A baby?” he whispered. “Yes. My daughter,” Charles said. Jack giggled and looked at his mom. He looked up at Charles and smiled. “What’s her name?” Jack asked. “Rosemary,” Charles said. “Hmm. Pretty name,” Arthur said. “Stirring commentary, Arthur,” Hosea said flatly. Charles laughed softly. Rosemary stirred and cuddled into Charles. Charles stood back up. “Well, I think that’s everyone. Right…?” Hosea trailed. “Trewlany ain’t here,” Arthur said gruffly. “Eh. He’ll show up. Maybe,” Hosea said. He clapped Charles’ shoulder and nodded his head. “Nice to meet you,” Abigail said before Charles walked away. Charles nodded. “Anyway, that’s all of us. Don’t expect you to know everyone right away. Get comfortable,” Hosea said. He patted Charles’ back and left him alone. Charles sighed and looked at his daughter. She was stirring more robustly now. She whined softly and looked up at him. “I know, honey,” he whispered. He walked over to his things and dug through them. He found the jar of applesauce he was looking for. He looked around for a place to sit but it was full to the brim with people. Charles chewed his lip. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He saw Arthur walking quickly to the table and he barked something at the men sitting there. They jumped and dispersed. He saw Arthur glance and him and nod. Charles felt his heart swell for a moment. He sat Rosemary at the table and opened the jar of applesauce. Rosemary took a few bites and looked around. She frowned and her fists opened and closed with anxiety. “You’re okay, little mouse. I promise,” Charles murmured. Rosemary whined for a moment and put one of her hands on his. “I know. I feel nervous too,” he whispered. “Mind if I sit?” a voice startled him. He looked up and saw Abigail standing a little ways away. “No, please,” Charles said, gesturing at the seat next to him. Abigail sat next to him and smiled. She looked at Rosemary and smiled at her. Rosemary whined softly and inched closer to Charles. “She’s very shy. Don’t take it personally,” Charles said. Abigail chuckled. “Jack didn’t even allow Mac and Davey close to him for at least half a year. I ain’t offended,” she said. Rosemary frowned, looking at Charles. “That’s Abigail. Mrs…” the last name eluded him. Abigail smiled. “Miss Roberts. John ain’t ever gonna marry me,” she said, offhandedly. Charles smiled. He rubbed Rosemary’s hand with his thumb. “Miss Roberts. She ain’t gonna cause trouble,” Charles said. Rosemary glanced at Abigail but lost interest quickly. Charles chuckled and continued to feed her. “God, I miss when Jack was this small. They’re so cute,” Abigail whispered. “I know. Ain’t nothing cuter than her,” Charles said. “Mind if I ask a personal question?” she asked. “Go ahead,” Charles said. “Where’s her mama?” Abigail asked. Charles sighed a little, prepared for this question. But it still stung. “You ain’t gotta say,” she said quickly. “No. It’s okay. Her mama is a working girl. Told me she didn’t want her. So I took her. Didn’t want her to end up in an orphanage. So… she’s mine now,” Charles said. “Not many men would do that,” Abigail said. “Hmm. Almost didn’t. But when I saw her face… I fell in love. Never knew I wanted kids until I saw her,” Charles said. Abigail laughed. “I hear that. I was not ready for Jack. Not in the slightest. But I saw him… And I loved him,” Abigail said. “You go so fast from a normal person to someone who would kill or die for a five-pound bundle. It feels like you’re going insane,” Charles said. Abigail smiled. “Well… I hope you enjoy your time here. Both of you. Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” Abigail said. She started to get up but Charles looked up. “Wait…” he said. She looked at him. “Is it safe here? For her?” Charles asked. Abigail thought for a moment. “Not always. There are things I wish Jack wouldn’t see. But everyone here would protect him with their life. And people stepped up when his daddy didn’t. But Hosea made him a fishing pole. Javier’s teaching him how to skin. We have a real community here. It’s hard. And I get scared sometimes. But I know he will always be loved here,” Abigail said. Charles nodded. “I know it ain’t too much of a help. And I know I’m biased. But I love almost everyone here. And she will too,” Abigail said. She patted his shoulder and left him alone. Rosemary whined. She wasn’t getting her food fast enough. Charles sighed and kept feeding her. “Sorry. I feel the same, little mouse,” Charles murmured. He finished feeding her and pulled her onto his lap. She played with his shirt as he looked around. He felt eyes on him and caught the gaze of Arthur Morgan. The man’s bright blue eyes bore into him for a moment. He felt exposed. He was… He was exactly Charles’ type. Charles clenched his jaw and looked away. He needed to purge those thoughts from his mind. “What’s your kid’s name?” a gruff voice startled Charles from his thoughts. He looked up. Arthur was standing close, but far enough away to make him comfortable. “Oh… Rosemary,” Charles said. Arthur approached cautiously. He knelt by the table and looked at the girl. “Well. Hi little lady. Miss Rosemary,” Arthur said quietly. Rosemary looked at Arthur. Her face broke out in a wide smile and she extended her arms. Charles was shocked and was sure it was showing on his face. “Mind if I hold her?” Arthur asked. Rosemary was giggling and reaching toward him. “Uhh. Y-yeah,” Charles said. His mind was blown. This was the first person other than him that Rosemary showed more than a frown to. Arthur reached out and picked her up. His smile lit up his whole face. This surly man was much more than that. “Hi, honey. You’re a sweetie, ain’t ya?” Arthur murmured. Rosemary laughed like he had told the funniest joke on the planet. Charles was staring at them. This was bad. Bad. “She this sweet to everyone?” Arthur chuckled. “Uhh… no. She don’t like anyone, actually. Just me,” Charles said. Arthur laughed. He bounced the girl. “I’m serious. You’ve spent two seconds with her and she loves you. Walter can’t even hold her without her crying” Charles said. “Ahhh. Guess I’m the baby whisperer. Jack liked me too,” Arthur said. He cooed softly at the girl. She laughed loudly and cuddled into him. “I am amazed. Truly,” Charles said. “Go talk with some of the gang members. Or rest. I got her,” Arthur said.“Are you sure?” Charles asked. “Yes. That’s what’s good about this gang, my friend. Always someone to watch your kid,” Arthur said. Charles nodded. “Well… thanks,” Charles said. Arthur nodded. Charles got up and walked around the camp. Everyone smiled or nodded at him. He decided to sit by the girls, Tilly, Mary-Beth, and Karen. Tilly smiled as he sat down. “Hello, Mr. Smith! How are you enjoying life here?” Tilly said. “It’s… interesting,” Charles said. “You can say that again. It’s always interesting. Sometimes dangerous. But usually just a lot of work,” Karen said. “Can I help?” Charles asked. “A big strong man doin’ the laundry with us. Ain’t that a dream,” Mary-Beth said slightly teasingly. Charles laughed. “If you wanna help, grab me that basket,” Karen said. Charles lifted it and placed it next to her. “So where you from?” Tilly asked. “Around. Grew up on the plains. Left home when I was about thirteen. Been on my own since then. Got her a little less than a year ago. Work at the Strawberry Hotel right now,” Charles said. “You got a wife?” Karen asked. “Nope. Just me and her,” Charles said. “So you’re single,” Tilly said teasingly. The other girls giggled. Charles laughed. “Yes. I am. But I’m focused on her. She’s my whole life,” Charles said. “Don’t tease him, girls. He’s a good father. Even John ain’t that focused on Jack,” Mary-Beth said. “What’s your little one’s name?” Karen asked. “Rosemary,” Charles said. “Beautiful name, sir,” Mary-Beth said. Charles smiled. “Ain’t much of a sir, miss,” Charles said. “Oh, please. We run with murderers and thieves. You’re probably the only ‘sir’ in this damn camp,” Karen said. The girls laughed. “So… who’s with who?” Charles asked. The girls exchanged glances and nodded. “Well… Miss Abigail is with John. They have Jack together. Miss Grimshaw was with Dutch a long long time ago. But he’s with Molly now. Hosea had a wife named Bessie. She died maybe two years ago? Three? She was a good lady. You would’ve liked her. Sean’s had his eye on Karen for a while. But I think Miss Karen don’t wanna go steady” Tilly said. “Not with that crazy Irish bastard. Besides, you won’t get with Davey!” Karen said. “Because he’s actually crazy, Karen. And we all know who Mary-Beth wants,” Tilly teased. “Stop,” Mary-Beth giggled. “Who you crushing on?” Charles asked. Mary-Beth blushed. “Mr. Arthur Morgan” Tilly teased. “Knock it off! He don’t want me anyways. Still got his eye on the other Mary,” Mary-Beth said. “I don’t know. He ain’t got a letter in a long time,” Tilly said. “Other Mary?” Charles asked. “Mary Linton. Used to be Mary Gillis. She and Arthur been sweet on each other for a long time. Almost got married. But he wouldn’t leave the gang for her. He’s loyal. Smart. And kind,” Mary-Beth said. “You do sound sweet on him,” Charles said. “Mr. Smith!” Mary-Beth gasped in fake offense. Charles smiled. “He don’t want me. It’s okay. He’s a good man, though. Looks like he’s doin’ good with your girl over there,” Mary-Beth said. Charles looked up. Arthur was sitting at the table with Rosemary. She was watching him intently as he ate an apple. She had a smile on her face. One that Charles had only seen with him. “Yeah. He is,” Charles whispered. He didn’t know what he was going to do. He loved his daughter. And it seemed his daughter was happy here. But he’d have his little vacation. And decide after that. There was time.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Arthur stared at the man sitting at the campfire. His baby was sitting snugly on his lap. Arthur couldn’t take his eyes away from them. Jealousy rose in his throat. He knew it was stupid. But he missed his child. He glanced over at Abigail. She was sitting close to the new man with Jack playing a little further away. Arthur’s heart ached. He sighed and looked away. He felt someone pat his back. “You okay?” Hosea asked softly. “Yeah. Just… kids. You know,” Arthur murmured. “I know, son. You talk to him yet? He’s a good man. Dutch wants him to stay. So do I. But mainly because I think it’ll do Jack good to have another kid around,” Hosea said. Arthur nodded. “He good at robbin’?” he asked. “Caught Dutch trying to pickpocket him. Ain’t no one done that,” Hosea said. “Really?” Arthur said, surprised. Hosea nodded. “Damn,” he said softly.“I like him. He’s smart. Not crazy like those damn Callander brothers. He’s calm. And Jack could use another kid around,” Hosea said. “That kid’s like… not even one yet,” Arthur said. Hosea laughed. “She’ll get older,” Hosea said. Arthur grunted, a frown appearing on his lips. “What?” Hosea said. “I dunno. Ain’t you worried he’ll dump the kid on us and leave with her? Like John did?” Arthur said. “He ain’t stupid like John. And if he does, I’ll take care of her. You did enough with Jack,” Hosea said. “Like you can keep up with a baby, old man,” Arthur teased. Hosea punched his arm. “Oww. Old fucker,” he said. “Don’t insult me, then. Can still outshoot you, boy,” Hosea said. Arthur chuckled. He glanced back at the campfire. Charles looked away from him. “He’s… odd. Ain’t he? What man just takes a baby when its mama don’t want it?” Arthur asked. “A good one. A man who loves his kid,” Hosea said. Arthur sighed as Hosea left. Arthur missed his son. His family. But… they were long dead. He turned away from the campfire and went to Pearson’s wagon. He snagged a beer and downed half of it. He heard Jaiver and John laugh loudly. He rolled his eyes. Damn idiot boys. He was surrounded by idiots. Loud, drunk idiots. He grumbled softly, irritated. He knew he was feeling sensitive with everything happening. He knew it would be better just to ignore everyone. Rest. That always helped. Arthur trudged to his wagon and crashed onto his cot. He finished his beer in another swallow and groaned softly. Eyes closed, he thought about his son. His child. Isaac. The most perfect child he had ever seen. Yes, he was biased. But he missed that crazy little kid. A piece of him wanted Charles and his child to stay. But another piece wanted him to tell them to leave forever. He worried enough about Jack and Abigail. Could he deal with another child to worry about? They weren’t always safe, especially not for kids. He worried enough about what Jack was seeing. He didn’t particularly want to worry about what another kid would see.Arthur spent most of the night worrying. His sleep was restless. When he finally gave up on sleeping, he got up and trudged to Pearson’s wagon for some water. He nearly ran into Charles, who was doing the same with his baby on his hip. Arthur stepped back, worried about bothering the kid. Charles blinked at him blearily and smiled a little. Arthur returned the gesture. Charles got his water and Arthur followed suit. The night was warm and comfortable. The heat hadn’t taken hold quite yet. Hosea said it was gonna be a hot summer but Arthur was starting to think old men just liked to say shit like that. “I’m surprised she ain’t up yet. Usually screaming her head off for some reason at this time,” Charles said quietly. “Hosea always said fresh air was the best thing a kid could get,” Arthur said. Charles laughed softly. “I think she’s just glad to be outta that shack we’re in. It gets the job done but it is a piece of shit,” Charles said. His groggy voice was somehow deeper than his normal voice. Deep and smoky, almost like an expensive glass of whisky. “We ain’t got beds but we got plenty of fresh air and bugs. Least she won’t grow up afraid of spiders,” Arthur joked. Charles laughed softly and he adjusted the hold on his baby. “It’s kinda nice. Being with people again. She don’t like a lot of people yet. Always been a shy baby. I’m hoping she cracks open her shell,” Charles said. “She liked me well enough, I think,” Arthur said, slightly cautiously. He didn’t want to overstep but he made that kid smile. So that must’ve been worth something. Charles smiled and nodded. “You’re the only one besides me that she’s liked. So,” Charles said gently. Arthur smiled, feeling a sudden wave of pride and adoration fill his chest. “Well… Abigail always thought I was the baby whisperer,” Arthur said slightly shyly. Charles chuckled. His baby shifted and cuddled into him. “Her mama was a working girl, right?” Arthur asked. “Yes. Just had a fling and she came back after a few months. Didn’t want it but didn’t wanna get rid of it either. So she asked me. And I said yes. I know you must think I’m a fool for it. I mean, she could be anyone's kid, right? But… as soon as I saw her… held her… I knew she was mine. I knew I couldn’t abandon this child,” Charles said. Arthur hummed softly and sipped his water. He could tell Charles cared deeply for his child, which was more than Marston ever did. Arthur wasn’t used to that. John barely looked at his child and denied the boy was his. Nothing was more infuriating to Arthur than that. Yet, here was Charles, understanding that the baby in his arms may not be his but accepting her as his without hesitation. “You’re a better man than most. Certainly better than every man here,” Arthur said. He worried his words fell short but Charles smiled. It was a gentle and kind smile. No wonder that kid liked him so much. “Well… thanks,” Charles said shyly. Arthur nodded a little and stepped away. He sipped his water and kept an eye on Charles and the baby. Charles talked softly to the bundle and settled back down. Arthur stared for a bit. At least the kid was loved. Arthur hoped his love for Jack was helping the boy. But he also knew kids needed their dads. And he wasn’t Jack’s dad. He wasn’t anyone’s dad. Not anymore. Arthur shook the thought from his head and looked away. His chest ached for a few moments before calming. He looked around the camp and wished Hosea was awake. He could talk to Dutch about a lot of things. But Isaac was not one of them. When he lost Isaac, Arthur leaned on Hosea more than he meant to. But Hosea never judged. Never questioned. He was just there. Arthur frowned and sat back down on his cot. He curled his knees closer to his chest and thought about his boy. His child. Even though Isaac had been dead for quite a few years, the grief was like nothing Arthur had ever experienced. It felt like his entire body was numb. At least, before the anger hit. Then it was red. Hot. Painful. No amount of killing was enough. And sometimes that was scarier than being numb. Arthur remembered seeing the crosses in the yard and knowing someone spared him the pain of seeing his child dead. But the anger was a beast of its own. The numbness was horrifying and empty. The anger was consuming. Nothing would help it but killing. For years after Isaac died, the only thing that would calm Arthur, fix him, interest him, was seeing blood pour from someone. He wanted to be the cause of it. Knives, guns, his fists. As long as blood was flowing, it was okay. Arthur would spill blood in revenge. He’d make everyone else feel the pain he went through. That was how to make it right. How to make it better. A hand touched Arthur’s shoulder and he jumped out of his head. He blinked and looked up. Hosea was staring evenly at him, a small smile on his face. His eyes were knowing. “You scared me,” Arthur said softly. “Sorry. You alright?” Hosea asked. “Yeah,” Arthur lied. Hosea gave him a knowing look but let go of him and sat near him. “If it’s too hard to have another kid around, let me know. You are important to us. One of the most important. If it’s too much, we’ll give them money and send them on their way. He may not even want to join, you know,” Hosea said. “No. No. I’m fine, Hosea. Just… thinking about him a lot,” Arthur said. “I know, son. I know. If you have to leave, please… just be safe. Okay?” Hosea said carefully. Arthur felt guilt rise in his throat. Hosea and Dutch discouraged the killings. The blood. But Arthur couldn’t help it. They would just clean him up afterward. No judgment. Just quiet. “I don’t want to,” Arthur said quietly. Hosea hummed softly and inched closer. Arthur waited a moment before continuing. “I’m just tired, Hosea, truly. About everything. I’m… just tired. That’s all,” he said. “I know. That’s why it’s okay you can leave. If you need,” Hosea said. “I know,” Arthur said softly. A slightly tense silence fell over the men. Arthur stared anywhere but Hosea. Hosea didn’t stare at anything but Arthur. “Looks like you’re about to have company,” Hosea murmured. A smile was in his words. Arthur looked up and saw Charles trying to contain his child in his arms. She was reaching toward Arthur, whining. The baby twisted and cried, trying her hardest to get to Arthur. Arthur chuckled and stood up. “Hold on, Miss Rosemary,” Arthur smiled as he walked over. Charles sighed but released Rosemary to him once he was close enough. She giggled and wrapped her arms around Arthur’s neck. “I’m sorry, Mr. Morgan,” Charles said shyly. “Ahh, don’t be! Babies want what they want,” Arthur said. Rosemary curled against Arthur’s chest and sighed, relaxing. “You sure you don’t mind?” Charles asked. Arthur shook his head and held the girl. Charles frowned a little, worrying. “I promise. If it was an issue I would’ve told you already. But I don’t mind,” Arthur said. Charles sighed but nodded. “Alright. Do you mind if I go get a cup of coffee?” Charles asked. “Go ahead. We’ll just be here,” Arthur smiled. Charles nodded and gently slinked away. Arthur adjusted his grip on the girl. She willingly slid down so she was hanging upside down, dangling from his arm. She laughed wildly, the joyous sound lightening Arthur’s heart. “Oh, you think that’s funny, miss?” Arthur chuckled. He slid his hands down a bit and grabbed her legs, holding her fully upside down. She cackled loudly, squealing in mirth. Arthur flipped her over and held her properly again. Her face was a little red from the blood rush and laughter. Arthur chuckled and held her close. She relaxed a bit and cuddled into her. “Can I say something?” Hosea said. He was behind Arthur. Arthur thought for a minute but knew what he was going to say. “Do you have to?” Arthur murmured. “Can I?” Hosea asked again. “Does it have to do with me holding this baby?” Arthur asked. “Yes,” Hosea said. Arthur sighed heavily. “You’ll just say it’s nice to see me smile especially around a child again. Something like that,” Arthur said. “Yes. But it’s the truth. Is that so bad?” Hosea said. “No. And yes. It’s still hard for me to deal with all of that. And you know it. I don’t wanna talk about it,” Arthur said. “Didn’t say we had to talk about it. Just said it was nice seeing you like that,” Hosea said. Arthur sighed a bit. He adjusted his hold on the kid and rubbed her back, not for her comfort, but for his. “That’s all,” Hosea said, shrugging. That was one thing Arthur didn’t like about Hosea. He could get into the mind of anyone so easily just by asking questions. He could get even the most tight-lipped nun to spill all her secrets. He frowned a little and looked at Hosea. “What?” he asked. “Stop it. Please,” Arthur said. “I’m not doing anything,” Hosea said. Arthur scoffed and turned away. He knew how Hosea worked and the best way to avoid his secrets being told was to ignore him. He bounced the girl and smiled. He sat on his bed and let the girl relax naturally. She curled into his chest and stomach and sighed. “You like it here, miss? I know you can’t respond. But I can still ask,” Arthur said. The girl looked up at him. She had wide dark eyes, flecks of gold and lightness in her eyes. She was one of the cutest babies Arthur had seen. Chubby cheeks, a mess of curly black hair, and super fat. She smiled and babbled. Arthur smiled back. “Well, I’ll take that as you like it. It is a nice spot. I like it here too. I hope that we can stay for a while but I dunno. John and Davey are looking squirrely. Maybe we’ll head out more west when they finally drive us out,” Arthur said. Rosemary stared at him. Arthur chuckled. “So. Over there is Jack. Little Jacky is what big ol’ Dutch calls him. If you and your daddy stay, you’ll be able to play with him when you’re older. He ain’t dumb like his daddy. Dunno where he got a lot of his smarts. His mama still had to be with his daddy. That was the stupidest thing she ever did. But, we got Jack out of it. So… not all bad. I dunno. He’s the best of both his parents. Adventurous. A little impulsive. But he’s got this sweet side. Loves flowers and nature. John was like that too a little when he was younger. He’s a little fiery too. Gets that from his mama, really. John ain’t ever been smart enough to be cunning. He’s guns blazing and headfirst into any and all danger. Abigail ain’t like that. She’s more like Mr. Matthews over there. Waits and sees how things are, how people act before she robs them of all their money,” Arthur rambled. “You talk like that with all babies?” Charles startled both Arthur and Rosemary. Arthur looked up and chuckled. Rosemary babbled happily, staring at her dad. “Sorry. Yeah. I try to. I mean… they ain’t gonna talk back for a while. And I think it’s good for them to be talked to. If they hear it, they’ll talk, right?” Arthur said.“I think that’s the hope. Still. Pretty fun to see someone else talk to her. I think she was listening,” Charles said. Arthur smiled shyly and dipped his head. “I like babies. They just… they only need a few things. They’re hungry. They’re tired. Or they shit themselves. Easy enough to deal with,” Arthur said. “True enough. I dunno what I’m gonna do when she starts talking. And talking back. That scares me so bad,” Charles said. “Ahh, it ain’t so bad. Funny the first couple of times but you have to hunker down quick or they’ll think you’re weak and abuse their cuteness. Mr. Jack over there did it real quick to Hosea and Dutch. Got six candies in an hour because no one was keeping track of how many we were giving him. Damn sneaky boy,” Arthur said. He smiled at the memory. Little Jack had the biggest most innocent eyes when he got caught. “Oh, the moment she calls me daddy it’ll be over for me,” Charles said. Arthur chuckled. “You want her back?” he asked. Charles shook his head. “No. If you’re doing okay, I think I’ll go help Mr. Pearson break down that deer I brought in. If you don’t mind keeping an eye on her,” Charles said. “No worries, Mr. Smith. Better job than breaking down a carcass,” Arthur chuckled. Rosemary cooed. “Say bye to daddy, missy. He’s gotta go work,” Arthur said. She squealed and waved at Charles. Charles chuckled and waved back. “I won’t be long,” he said quietly. He slinked away. The baby whined softly, frowning. “Ahh, don’t worry, Miss Rosemary! Your daddy will be back soon, honey,” Arthur murmured. He bounced her gently, calming her. She calmed easily and relaxed into him. Soon, she was napping against Arthur. Rosemary was curled against him. Arthur was holding her gently, smiling a little. “Little thing’s taking a liking to you,” Abigail approached them, leaning on Arthur’s small side table. Arthur chuckled. “I think babies just like me, miss. Remember when Jack was this little? God… time flies so fast,” Arthur said. Abigail smiled. “Yeah. Now he’s bringing me bugs and eating my food when I ain’t looking,” Abigail said. She looked at the baby and smiled. Rosemary shrunk against Arthur, shy. “Dang. She really don’t like anyone but you and her daddy,” Abigail said. “Got lucky, I guess,” Arthur smiled. He looked down at Rosemary. “That’s just Miss Roberts. She’s alright. She’s Jack’s mom,” Arthur said. The baby glanced at Abigail and turned away. “Ha! Poor thing. Shy as ever. She’ll open up. Eventually, if they stay,” Abigail said. She was probing. “You hope they will?” Arthur deflected. Abigail moved to sit next to him. She stared at him evenly. “Would be nice to have another kid around. I know Jack’s getting tired of all of us adults. I mean. She’s little. So we’d have to wait a couple of years. But I don’t think he’d mind. Besides, Charles seems like a good man,” Abigail said. She was still probing. Well… she said her truth. “Would be nice to keep them around. Jack would enjoy having another kid around. Charles is a decent man. From what I can tell, anyways. Brought us that huge deer. Treats his kid real well. The girls seem to like him. So I wouldn’t be upset if he stayed,” Arthur said. Abigail nodded a little. “You like him,” she said. Arthur laughed. “He’s better than the Callender boys and Sean. And Marston. Not a high bar, miss,” he said. “Hell, if I had a man like him, I’d never let him go,” Abigail said. Arthur smiled and looked down at the kid. She was half asleep against him, her eyelids barely open and her breathing calm. Arthur gently adjusted his grip so the baby was more comfortable. She curled into him and sighed. Abigail looked at him and an interesting look crossed her face. “Don’t start, please,” he said quietly. “What?” she asked. “Don’t ask about me. Or him. Or any of it. Please. I’m asking you, as a friend. Just don’t. I’m fine,” he said softly. Abigail sighed and looked away. “Hosea’s worried about you is all, honey,” Abigail said. “Tell him I’m fine,” Arthur said. “Are you?” she asked. Arthur sighed. “Yes,” he said. Abigail patted his hand and got up. Arthur watched her go and frown. He hated everyone worrying about him. He liked kids, always did. He treated John well when he first joined. Loved John’s kid, especially when John checked out. And… yes. Arthur loved his baby. His perfect cute baby boy. The most precious thing Arthur ever did see. He loved his child more than life. But he was gone. And he was spending the rest of his life dealing with that fact. That didn’t mean he didn’t have love for other kids. He loved Jack like his own and if Charles decided to stay, he’d love Rosemary like she was his. His mind flashed to the bible verse from which Isaac’s name came. Abraham had to take his son, his only son, and sacrifice him to God. What a dick God was. Arthur would sacrifice himself for a hundred lifetimes before sacrificing his son. Isaac's loss was the worst thing that had happened to Arthur. He was still surprised he survived it. He jumped a little when Rosemary moved. She whined, irritated by the movement. “Sorry! Sorry, honey, I’ll stay still,” Arthur said, smiling a little. The baby settled and fell asleep quickly. Arthur bounced her a bit, humming softly. She calmed even more. Arthur looked up and glanced around the camp. The girls were doing chores. Tilly looked up and smiled at him. Arthur returned it. John was sitting with Javier and the Callendar brothers. They looked deep in discussion. Probably talking about something stupid. Javier and Sean were on guard. Dutch and Hosea were chatting, Miss Grimshaw was hanging over them, interjecting occasionally. Everyone else was either sleeping, resting, or drinking. The camp was calm. Peaceful. It was nice. Arthur’s eyes flicked over to Pearson’s wagon. He let his attention linger on Charles. He was burly but not very thick. His skin was dark and warm in the sunlight. His black hair was tied back, but a few strands stayed in his face. He was showing Pearson how he tied the skin up to tan. Arthur watched him with interest. He explained quickly and demonstrated before letting Pearson tie up the second side. They talked for another few moments before Charles turned. He caught Arthur’s eye, and the men stared at each other for a moment. The moment was quiet, important almost, and nearly gentle. Charles looked away, and Arthur felt his heart ache for a moment. Something about his eyes was calming. He felt calmer than he had in years. He blinked and the feeling passed. He was just missing Isaac. That’s all it was. Missing his boy. His son. Arthur sighed and closed his eyes, the warmth and breathing of the baby calming him. He was jolted awake when he felt the baby leave his arms. Arthur opened his mouth in protest, tightening his grip and only getting out, “The hell you think you’re doin'—” before seeing who it was. Charles smiled a little at him, Rosemary halfway between the two men. She was blinking blearily. “Thanks. I got her,” he said quietly. Arthur relaxed his grip on the kid and she curled into her father. Charles smiled down at her, his face soft and loving. “Hope she didn’t give you too much trouble,” Charles said. “No. No, not at all. An angel, really. Jack’s been ten times worse,” Arthur said quickly. He offered Charles a smile that was returned. “I appreciate it. Honestly. She don’t like my landlord that much. She barely tolerates him. Then it’s just me and her. And as much as I love her, I need a break sometimes,” Charles said. “I understand. I’m happy to do it anytime. If y’all end up staying, I’m sure she’ll warm up to Abigail and Hosea fast enough,” Arthur said. Charles nodded a little. He stared at Arthur for a moment and looked around the camp. “Can I ask you something?” he asked quietly. “Sure,” Arthur said. A few moments passed before Charles spoke again. “Is it wise for me to join? Will it be safe for her? Will she know what I do? Will I be safe? Is this a good idea ?” he said quietly. Arthur thought for a minute, smiling a little. “That was more than one question, friend,” he said. Charles opened his mouth to apologize but Arthur raised his hand before he could. “It’s okay. I get it. We’re a bunch of outlaws and murderers. We ain’t good, not in the traditional sense. But…” Arthur paused for a moment. He thought about what Dutch always told him. They may be murderers and robbers but the government was worse. The government robbed them blind with taxes. The cops didn’t care about law and order. They cared about controlling people. While they may be bad, they weren’t nearly as bad as the government, the people in charge. They gave to the poor, as long as they weren’t living off old onions and potatoes. The gang tried to be good. “We ain’t good, Charles. She’ll know that. But she’ll also know that the government is worse. Cuz they are. They’ve destroyed any reality of the American dream. Here, everyone’s equal. Women can do whatever work they want. Don’t matter what color you are or where you come from. Everyone’s welcome. I know lotta people like you don’t get that courtesy out in public. Ain’t fair. But… Dutch tries to be. We’ve always tried to be better. I won’t lie and say we always are but at least we try. We’re as safe as we can be. Hosea and Dutch won’t make you do a lot of work until you’re settled and comfortable. Then it’ll mainly be small stuff. Little robberies. You’ll be safe enough. And if anything were to happen, we would care for her like our own. I cannot tell you if this is a good idea or not. That’s up to you, my friend. If I’m honest… I can tell you’re hardworking. And kind to the women. You love your child, which is more than a lot of kids get. I think it would be nice to have you here. You’d add a lot to our gang,” Arthur rambled. He cleared his throat and looked away. He didn’t know what got into him. He wanted Charles around. He wanted to see how Charles would raise Rosemary. How she would be when she was older. “Guess I just don’t want to be seen as a robber. An outlaw,” Charles said. “Government already sees you as such. Don’t they? Or some other awful thing. Here, you’ll just be Charles,” Arthur said. Charles hummed quietly and held Rosemary close. “Alright. Thanks, Arthur,” Charles said. He smiled at Arthur before walking away. Arthur watched him leave. He hoped, hoped against hope that man and his baby would stay. He wanted them close. Maybe it was for selfish reasons; just to keep a little baby around. But Arthur did like Charles. He was gentle. Kind. So unlike everyone else. And Arthur thought that was worth keeping.