Leaving the Cathedral, Stephen didn't head straight back to Arthur and the others. Instead, he wandered towards the center of Blackwater.

  He found a decent little saloon and treated himself to a good meal.

  He'd been roughing it for days, time to enjoy something nice.

  He ordered a hearty bowl of macaroni in a rich tomato sauce, along with a plate of cured meat and some rolls.

  Maybe it was the generous tip, or maybe Stephen just had that kind of charm, but the young, pretty waitress brought him a plate of pickles.

  Stephen thanked her with a smile and a small tip, which seemed to do the trick.

  The waitress gave him a flirty look and eagerly grabbed a knife to help him out.

  She carefully sliced the meat and pickles, arranging them between the rolls, and offered it to Stephen.

  It was pretty clear that if he gave the word, she'd happily feed it to him herself.

  Stephen was having none of that. He quickly took the bread, politely declining any further help.

  He shook his head at the waitress's disappointed gaze.

  Just as he was about to dig in, he noticed a piece of paper under his plate.

  Curious, Stephen unfolded it. It was an address.

  He looked up, and the waitress gave him a knowing look.

  They were adults, after all.

  Stephen pocketed the note, smiled at the waitress, and finally tucked into his dinner.

  Bread with pickles and cured meat – a first for Stephen.

  To his surprise, it tasted pretty damn good.

  The pickles were different from what he was used to back home – firmer, and with a sharper tang.

  Combined with the rich, smoky meat and the slightly sweet bread, it was a real treat.

  A bite of food, a swig of beer – Stephen was enjoying his meal.

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  He went back to the bar and asked the bartender to pack up some extra bread and meat to go.

  He hadn't forgotten about Arthur, Charles, and Javier freezing their asses off on the cliff.

  Couldn't very well enjoy a feast in town while his brothers were eating jerky.

  With the food packed, Stephen made his way back to the camp, full and content.

  "Check out what I brought!"

  As he approached the camp, he spotted Arthur and the others huddled around the fire, gnawing on jerky. They looked pretty miserable.

  When they saw the food in Stephen's hand, Arthur immediately tossed his jerky into the fire.

  Javier and Charles were more reserved, quickly stashing their jerky away.

  "Damn, I thought you went on vacation," Arthur said with his mouth full of bread, "Don't tell me you spent the whole day in Blackwater just to buy some bread."

  "Of course not. I brought beer too."

  Stephen grinned, pulling a few bottles of beer from his saddlebag.

  "I checked out where Sean's being held. It's heavily guarded, probably 30 or so bounty hunters."

  Hearing this, the three slowed their eating, listening intently.

  Stephen poured beer into their cups, then casually said, "I scoped out the area. A ground assault is out of the question."

  "So, you're thinking?" Javier asked, curiously. "Water?"

  Stephen snapped his fingers, "Exactly!"

  He spread out the map, pointing to the Blackwater docks. "Sean's being held just north of the docks. All we have to do is..."

  Stephen laid out his plan, as Arthur, Javier, and Charles listened carefully and nodded.

  "That's a good idea."

  Charles studied the map. "They'll never expect us to come from the water."

  "Exactly! We just need someone waiting with our horses on the riverbank, ready for us to ride off when we get there," said Javier, sounding excited.

  "The Dakota River is narrow and shallow. We could probably run out of there on foot!"

  Seeing the others in agreement, Arthur nodded. "There's one problem, though. Where do we get a boat?"

  The question hit the group like a splash of cold water.

  "I haven't spent enough time in Blackwater to know where to find a boat."

  Stephen said, "You guys are familiar in this area, right? So don't you guys know where to find the boat?"

  The other three fell silent. Stephen started to lose hope.

  No boat, no plan.

  Finally, Arthur spoke up. "I might know where to find a boat."

  The others turned to him, hope in their eyes.

  Arthur cleared his throat, pointing to the map. "Here, on the border of New Austin and West Elizabeth, there's a black market."

  "It's a dock run by a local gang. I heard they do some smuggling. They gotta have boats."

  Stephen checked the map, but saw nothing.

  Makes sense, a gang's hideout wouldn't exactly be on any map.

  "But it's risky. The gang's called the Del Lobos. They're a bunch of ruthless Mexicans who crossed the border," Arthur said warily. "They're not easy to deal with."

  "Mexicans?"

  Stephen glanced at Javier, who shook his head. "I don't know them, but I think we should try."

  "You can't go. The cops and Pinkertons are everywhere. You'll be dead the moment you show your face."

  Stephen shook his head. "I have to go alone."

  "No way. It's too dangerous."

  Arthur said firmly, "They're just like the O'Driscoll gang, cold-blooded killers. You'd be walking to your own execution."

  "But isn't this the only way?"

  Stephen looked at Arthur. "Or do we just sit here and wait? Who knows what'll happen? How long will we have to wait?"

  Arthur fell silent, lost for words.

  "I'll go with you."

  Charles spoke up, his voice firm. He looked at Stephen, Arthur, and Javier.

  "I haven't been with the gang for long, and no one in Blackwater knows me. I'll go with you."