Inside the cramped cabin, Abigail and little Jack stuffed ragged pieces of cloth into the gaps beneath the window frame, trying to block out the icy wind.
On the far side of the room, Davey Callander and John Marston stirred awake on their shared makeshift bed.
"Looks like you really caught the bad end of things this time, Davey," John joked with a crooked grin.
"At least my face ain't ruined," Davey shot back, chuckling.
His eyes drifted toward John's torn cheek souvenir from when wolves ambushed him in the mountains. If not for Abigail and Hosea begging his kid brother Mike, Arthur, and Javier to search for him… he probably would've frozen to death in the snow.
"Lucky it didn't hit your eye," John said, relieved. "I owe you Callander boys and Arthur a whole lot."
A wounded outlaw with poor aim was as good as dead.
"Well then," a familiar voice came from the door, "when your face heals up, you can buy us a drink."
Mike Walker stepped into the room with a smile.
"Yeah," John laughed. "A damn fine drink."
"Uncle Mike!"
Little Jack hurried over, handing Mike a warm tin cup Abigail had just filled.
Mike crouched down, ruffling the boy's hair before tightening Jack's scarf and placing his own hat gently over the child's ears.
"All right, partner. Go play outside for a bit. Keep your hat on and don't freeze."
Jack nodded sensibly and closed the door behind him.
As soon as the boy was gone, Davey frowned.
"Mike… what happened?"
John and Abigail both turned toward him Abigail especially, tension in her eyes.
"Is it the Pinkertons?" John asked. "Or bounty hunters? Or maybe that O'Driscoll boy you brought back did he expose our location?"
"Relax," Mike replied calmly. "We're safe… for now."
The sigh of relief didn't last long.
"But only for now," Mike continued. "You all know we lost everything at Blackwater. Not just the fifteen thousand dollars on that steamboat, even our old savings are gone."
John cursed under his breath. "Hell, we never should've gone after that damn boat."
He'd returned to the gang after half a year away only to walk straight into a catastrophe.
"And Jenny… and Sean…" Davey muttered bitterly.
He was lucky. A bullet stopped at his shoulder. Others hadn't been so fortunate.
"This was always coming," Mike said quietly. "Maybe sooner, maybe later. For you, for me, for Abigail and Jack… for all of us. And judging by our situation now? That day might not be far off."
His gaze locked onto John Marston.
The mood shifted instantly.
John, Abigail, and Davey all stared at Mike in shock.
They weren't stupid they understood exactly what he was implying.
"Mike… you " Davey began, stunned.
Abigail tugged lightly at John's sleeve, stepping closer to Mike.
"Just tell us," she whispered. "What's going on?"
Mike took a breath.
"Dutch wants to rob a train."
Davey blinked. "That's it? We've robbed trains before."
John and Abigail nodded, confused.
To outlaws, robbing a train was nothing new.
"This time is different," Mike said. "The train belongs to a man named Leviticus Cornwall, an industrial giant. And word is, he's tied at the hip with the Pinkertons."
Now it clicked.
"So if Dutch hits that train…" John said slowly, "the Pinkertons won't just chase us they'll lock onto us."
Mike shrugged. "Unless Cornwall is the type to shrug off losing a mountain of cash which he isn't."
Davey looked up. "So what are you planning?"
"Hosea's against the idea too," Mike explained. "We figured we'd talk sense into Dutch. But the more support we have… the better."
Davey and John exchanged a glance.
"We'll back you," they both said.
Mike nodded. "Good. Now I need to talk to the others. This affects everyone."
He stepped toward the door.
But as he opened it, Abigail followed quietly.
Outside, the blinding snowlight forced her to squint.
She studied Mike's expression sharp, calm, calculating nothing like the reckless outlaw she once knew.
"Mike…" she asked softly, "what are you really thinking?"