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whywishesarehorses · 3 years ago

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Genetic Deep Dive: Can Eton the Mustang be a Friesian? The American Mustang's Ancestry & Composition

May 2021, Etalon Diagnostics

Under a readmore, this one's a long one, about one of Elisa Wallace's horses.

Elisa Wallace is a 5 star three-day event rider, YouTuber, and advocate for American Mustang adoption, off the track thoroughbreds, rider safety, and women in sport. Elisa is passionate about her work with American mustangs, aimed at demonstrating the potential of this misunderstood breed. One Mustang that Elisa rescued captured the hearts of her community from the day he came home on June 7th, 2019 - Eton!

Eton is an 8 year old Mustang gelding from Green Mountain HMA, Wyoming and just 14.1 hands tall. Elisa named Eton after one of the mystical black horses that pulled Pluto’s Chariot and was rendered “swift as an eagle”. Elisa adopted Eton in order to participate in the Mustang Tip Challenge, in which trainers have 90 days to train a mustang for an in-hand competition held in Fairburn, GA.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve been asked, or told, that Eton looks like a Friesian" Elisa said on her Youtube Video "Is my Mustang a Friesian?". Elisa decided to run an Etalon Diagnostics Ancestry & Composition Analysis and MiniPanel PLUS Diagnostic test on Eton to learn more about his genetics. Etalon's ancestry and composition analysis is an in-depth comparison of your horse's genetic make-up and how it is like, or unlike, other horses within various "breeds", disciplines, and populations around the world.

The short answer: Eton is not a Friesian! In fact, when Etalon’s full-time geneticist, Laura Patterson Rosa DVM, PhD looked closely at his results, she noticed that he is genetically very far from a Friesian. Yet, Eton's DNA provides a lot of insight into what makes up the American Mustang. Read on to learn more about how Eton's DNA differs from a Friesian. Let’s look at “breeds” that he is most closely related to, how we interpret this information, and why it matters.

First, let's take a look at a purebred Friesian's Ancestry results…

Meet Zero Gravity, or “Z”. Z is a 1997 Purebred Friesian Stallion. His Etalon Diagnostics ancestry results came back just as expected: Z is 99.9% “European Heavy Horse”. The European Heavy Horse population originated in Europe and includes breeds such as Belgians, Clydesdales, the Fell Pony, Franches Montagnes, and Percherons. Taking an even closer look at Z’s Ancestry and Composition Analysis results, Etalon provided his owner with an Ancestry breakdown to illustrate just how he compares to certain breeds from around the world. Here’s a look at Z’s results:

Z’s DNA was most closely related to a Belgian’s at 84%. Next was the Fell Pony, at 14%. Lastly, Z’s DNA was only slightly related to a Clydesdale’s at 1%.

Take note of Z’s inbreeding coefficient score of 32.59%... we’ll get to that soon and why that’s important!

Now, let’s take a look at our friend, Eton…

Eton’s DNA looks drastically different from Z’s. Eton’s ancestry results prove just how genetically diverse he is as an American Mustang, with his DNA originating from several different populations from around the world. The most prominent population being the European Heavy Horse, at 34.4% similarity. Coming in second, Eton’s DNA was 17.2% related to the “Carriage Horse” population, which includes breeds such as the French Trotter, Morgan, Saddlebred, Standardbred, and Tennessee Walking Horse. The next population Eton is related to is the Iberian, including Andalusians, Lusitanos, and Mangalargas. Next is the North Sea group, including Fjords, Icelandic horses, and Shetlands. Eton has 11.7% Thoroughbred blood, and is slightly related to the Exmoor and Near East horses.

Here is a breakdown of Eton’s Ancestry:

Look at all of those breeds hard at work in Eton! Something interesting to note is that, while Eton is most closely related to the European Heavy Horse population, his related breeds are not the same as Z’s, the purebred Friesian stallion we met earlier. Again, Z was most closely related to the Belgian breed, with Fell Pony a distant second. Within the European Heavy Horse population, Eton is most closely related to the Franches Montagnes, with Belgian as a second, and Clydesdale and Fell Pony arriving third and forth.

So… what breed is Eton most closely related to, if not a Friesian?

“Our Ancestry panel is looking much deeper and farther back than you might realize. We are looking at DNA through the lens of thousands of generations back, trying to assemble the puzzle pieces, so his results make a lot of sense”, said Dr. Patterson Rosa. The American Mustang is so genetically diverse that it’s difficult to analyze and assign him a ‘breed’. ‘Mustang’ simply means that the horse is feral, and the American Mustang has been influenced by many different breeds over the past several generations.”

The first Mustangs descended from horses brought to the Americas by the Spanish, that escaped or were released into the wild. However, many other breeds and types of horses contributed to the modern Mustang, resulting in varying phenotypes. Most contain a greater genetic mixture of ranch stock and more recent breed releases, while a few are relatively unchanged from the original Iberian stock strongly represented in the most isolated populations.

In Eton’s case, he still has strong Iberian bloodlines, with the Iberian group coming in at 15.9% of his DNA. His most prominent population, the European Heavy horse, makes sense when compared to more recent Mustang history. In the United States, “pit ponies” had a large influence on the Mustang herd population. These horses were used underground in mines from the mid-18th until the mid-20th century. Mining horses were often low set, heavy-bodied and heavy-limbed with plenty of bone and substance. European Heavy Horses, such as Belgians, were often used in the mines. A number of these horses are presumed to have been released or escaped, which would explain the large presence of heavy horse “blood” in Eton. The Mustang population was also heavily influenced by Army Remount horses, Western ranchers, and various settlers. Their breed composition is quite genetically diverse, with Mother Nature having a lot to say over which traits survive in these horses and which traits are quickly eliminated.

“Eton’s Ancestry results also tell us a lot about what Mother Nature favors!” said Dr. Patterson Rosa. Eton’s genetic makeup gave him the best capacity to survive in the wild by himself. Taking a look once more at his Etalon Ancestry results, we notice that Eton’s inbreeding coefficient score is quite low: only 4.6%. Inbreeding coefficient is a measure derived from the actual genetic diversity within the individual. By comparison, Zero Gravity (the purebred Friesian stallion) has a very high inbreeding coefficient of 32.59%.

“In domestic animals, to create breeds, people inbreed or ‘linebreed’. Humans want certain traits to be prominent in a population. In doing so, however, we increase the chances that lethal or disease alleles become more present in that population as well. Highly inbred individuals do not tend to survive in harsh conditions. Mother Nature selected Eton as an efficient horse, capable of surviving and adapting to whatever she threw his way while living as a feral horse in Wyoming. Increased levels of heterozygosity are correlated to a better environmental and immune adaptability. Eton is actually so adaptable, that he was capable of being removed from his natural environment in Wyoming, handled by humans for the first time, moved to Florida where the conditions are drastically different, and adapting to all of the new things Elisa taught him. From being handled to ridden to competing in his first horse show, Eton is adaptable.” said Dr. Patterson Rosa.

So, why does all of this information matter?

As a horse owner, understanding your horse’s genetic makeup can help make their lives easier by understanding suitability. Horses are genetically suitable for some careers, disciplines, or even people, over others!

By taking a look at these Ancestry averages from certain disciplines, it’s simple to interpret the findings. For example, the 3-Day eventing horse has significantly more Thoroughbred blood than the Reining horse does. This makes sense because of the difficult nature of cross country and show jumping; requiring horses to be able to run for long distances and display incredible levels of athleticism. Reining horses have more Carriage horse blood, giving them the powerful shoulders and hindquarters to get low to the ground and spring back up quickly.

Comparing your horse’s Ancestry results to different breeds and disciplines from around the world may help you as a horse owner when it comes to decision making, and increase the number of tools in your and your horse’s toolbox. It’s all in their DNA - who these horses are, how they behave, their suitability for one discipline over another, speed, gait - the list goes on. Learn more about Etalon’s affordable equine DNA testing options at www.etalondx.com, and know your horse down to the DNA.

Team Etalon is conducting an ongoing study on the American Mustang's ancestry and composition and other genetic analysis. Email [email protected] or give us a call at 650.380.2995 to order DNA testing and receive personalized genetic counseling on your Mustang.

-Team Etalon

You can watch Elisa's video on this here.

#genetics #equine genetics #horse breeds #blm mustang #mustang horse #elisa wallace #etalon #Friesian #friesian horse #horseblr #horsblr #eventing

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marvel-redemption-omega · 4 years ago

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Of Outlaws and Family

Chapter Two: New Friends, New Family, Old Habits

A/N: Heeeeeey, so I think I’m gonna spam this story today since I have nothin else to do and I am too lazy to leave my barracks. I should be studyin buuuuuut whatever...

Warnings: Cursing, typical gang violence, death, dangers of horse riding

Please enjoy! Hearts and repubs are appreciated!

My work is not to be posted elsewhere; I will post it to my AO3 and dA if I so choose.

Word Count: 7962

Read from the beginning: https://marvel-redemption-omega.tumblr.com/post/620167374619951104/of-outlaws-and-family-chapter-one-new-beginnings

The sun is warm on their skin, filtering through the trees as they make headway to the camp. Arthur’s driving the wagon, answering the questions James has about being a cowboy, while Scarlet rides Shasta to their left; Fancy, Shamrock, and his horse -Smoke- following behind her. James climbs into the seat from the back and takes the reins when Arthur hands them over.

Scarlet clicks her tongue and squeezes her thighs, urging Shasta to speed up so she can scout ahead. She turns to her other horses and tells them, sternly, to “stay with James” before she and Shasta run ahead to make sure there’s no O’Driscoll ambushes. When she’s satisfied, and Shasta’s prancing anxiously to move again, she turns him back to meet up with Arthur and her son, the heat of the afternoon sun now hot on her back.

“Hyah!” She kicks Shasta and he throws his head, breaking into a dead run back the way they came. He skirts and prances up to Fancy on the left of the wagon as they slow up. “All clear for about a mile up the way. I can drive the wagon if you wanna ride,” she offers as she reins Shasta up beside the front of her cart.

“That’s fine, we’re almost there anyway,” Arthur shrugs and takes the reins back from James. She looks at her son and relaxes at his smile. It’s not something he usually does around strangers, let alone men. James whistles and Fancy slows from beside Scarlet and rounds the back of the wagon until she’s beside the front side. The mare nickers as she keeps pace with the wagon to stay near him. Shamrock and Smoke follow at the back of the wagon in calming comfort, ears forward at the sound of James’ whistle.

“If you say so,” she hums and pats Shasta’s neck, cooing to him about how he’s been doing so well today. He nods his head a few times and side steps several times.

“He a’ight?”

“Yeah, he just likes to run. Like I said before, I usually fight him to put him up. He’s a racer, that’s for sure. If you don’t mind watching James, I’ll take Shasta for a run to wear him out, that way he’ll be easier to deal with. Especially with a bunch of new horses and people,” she clicks her tongue and loosens her hold on the reins when Arthur nods. The buckskin jumps to the side and bucks for a moment before dashing down the not-as-worn-down path that runs parallel to the road the wagon’s on.

Scarlet gives her horse the reins as she adjusts herself in the saddle from his bucking. He snorts and tosses his head as he kicks up his speed, the dirt and sand flying from under his hooves with every impact.

They make it across the railroad tracks and near Valentine’s train station before she pulls up on his reins, giving the command for him to slow up. He resists at first but slowly comes down from his run to a gallop then to a trot and finally to a fast paced walk. She turns him in a few circles before leading him to the general store. She hitches him to the post, rubbing his neck and giving him a carrot from her bag before she goes inside. She takes the advantage to stock up on canned fruit and vegetables as well as get provisions for her horses.

As she saddles back up, a few men huddled just outside the saloon take interest in her. She ignores them until one shoots their pistol into the air. Shasta immediately throws his weight forward, bringing his rear legs up and kicking the guy behind them who fired the weapon. The others holler and yell as she tries to settle Shasta by spinning him in circles. The other four mount up and she lets her horse take charge, facing him towards the stables where his ears perk and he bolts into the plains.

She hears the shouts of the males behind her and she doesn’t need any more confirmation that they’re O’Driscolls. She’s seen enough of them to know who they run with by their clothes and what breed of horse they have. They all ride Morgans or Kentucky Saddlers, neither great for long distance endurance like her Thoroughbred, Standardbred, and Mustang. She knows she can easily outrun them, but she has a better idea.

Once they’re outside the town, she leads Shasta to the river on their right and dismounts, leading him to the trees where she leaves him to graze. Grabbing her pistols, bow, and one of her rifles, she heads for the rocks by the river for cover. She can hear the bickering and cursing of the group as they approach, the one having been kicked griping about his body aching. It’s not the first person Shasta’s kicked and Scarlet knows he won’t be the last. She’s grateful her horse is so fine tuned to instinct and took it upon himself to initiate the chase.

She isn’t left waiting for more than a minute or two before the gang members are jumping from their horses to search for her. She pulls one of her throwing knives from her belt and aims for the one left in the saddle, the one Shasta kicked. She smirks as the blade buries itself in his skull without a sound and he slumps forward then falls to the ground. The horse spooks at the sudden thud of his body on the earth and it causes the rest of their horses to run as well, leaving the men running back to see why their horses startled. Upon seeing their man down, they shout and curse her.

“Come on out! You’ve done it now!”

“Wait until Colm gets ahold of you!”

“Why don’t you just make this easy on us? Come on out.”

“Stop hiding! The longer you hide, the worse things are gonna end!”

Scarlet scoffs to herself and pulls her bow from her back and notches an arrow. She pulls back and aims at the closest one, his back to her. She lets it go, grinning as he drops with the arrow through his chest. She quickly and quietly moves from her spot and up the hill to get a better vantage point on the last three. They’re yelling and checking their fallen comrade to try and figure out where she shot from, eventually one venturing to where she had been behind the rocks.

“Two down, three to go. Let’s see if I can take out two of you in one,” she murmurs aloud to herself as she swaps her bow for her rifle. She opens the chamber and nods when she sees a round chambered. She shuts it and holds the gun up, looking through the scope, focusing on two of the O’Driscolls.

She waits until they move, and oh how sweet it is when all three of them line up almost perfectly! She aims for the middle of the first guy's chest and squeezes the trigger. A loud bang rings out as she does so, echoing in the distance. All three men glance down and then to where she stands from the treeline before their bodies fall to their knees then drop to the ground. She releases the shell casing and reloads the gun, slinging it onto her back and going over to them. She searches them and takes everything they have from gum to money, going to the other two to confirm they are dead before doing the same to them.

“Aha, look at that boy, their horses are just over there. What say you about takin them to the stables an sellin’em?” She asks as she stows her rifle and bow and climbs back into the saddle. He snorts and paws at the ground in response and she laughs, patting his neck. “Me too, Boy, me too. Let’s catch’em. Come on.”

She clicks her tongue and Shasta sets a slow pace toward the four horses grazing just a few yards away. She whistles and they all raise their heads, nickering softly before going back to the grass. Shasta neighs in what Scarlet assumes is a greeting and she slips from his back, speaking in hushed murmurs to the closest horse. He shuffles for a moment, looking from Shasta to Scarlet, before closing the gap and nudging the woman. She pets him for a minute, talking to him calmly, reassuring him that he’s alright, and pulls his reins over his head and ties them to her saddle horn. He pulls a bit but stays beside her horse as she moves to collect the other three.

Within five minutes she has them all tied by the reins and starts undoing their saddles, occasionally having to stop to soothe and calm them. She checks the saddlebags once all four saddles are off and climbs on Shasta’s back, leading them to the stables. Scarlet pulls back on the reins as they come up, urging her horse to the hitching post near the front. He stops by it and she praises him.

“Howdy, Sir. I have a couple horses I’m lookin to sell,” she greets the stable man. He tips his hat as she clambers down and unties the reins.

“Is one of them that Standardbred? He’s quite handsome. Looks fast too,” he muses, walking over to help her with the horses.

“Unfortunately, my Shasta isn’t for sale. He’s not one for the faint of heart. He’s too high spirited and rowdy for most. He needs a firm hand and someone to race him, so he’ll stay with me for a while yet,” she chuckles at the man, handing him two sets of reins. “Two Kentucky Saddlers, one black and one red roan. Two Morgans, one chestnut, one flaxen chestnut.”

“How friendly are these four? You didn’t steal them did you? I can’t have stolen horses bein sold here, it’s bad for business,” he asks as he leads the two horses inside. She follows close behind with the other two.

“If by stole you mean took from the group of bandits that tried kidnappin me? Yes. Fuckin’ O’Driscolls,” she grumbles, arms crossed as she watches the stable owner do a quick health check on them.

“Then that’s not really stolen is it? I think that counts as self defense,” the stable owner admits as he finishes up with the last horse. “Well, they’re all pretty healthy, though that chestnut has a swollen right front leg. She should be good as new in a few days. Aside from that, the most I could give for them is about two dollars each,” he explains. Scarlet mulls the price over for a moment before nodding.

“Alright, two each. Make sure someone who’ll take care of them gets those horses yeah? They deserve better than what they had, ride easy too and didn’t nip or buck when I went up to them,” she states as she turns towards the large barn doors, whistling for her own horse. The stable owner pulls the owed bills from his pocket and hands them to Scarlet. She pockets it with a nod and small smile. Shasta lowers his head to sniff at the few strands of hay by the doors and nickers before yanking his head and half rearing at her. “Ahh, he’s getting antsy again. Best be gettin ‘im home. Sir, thank you an you have a good evenin,” she thanks the man again and heads for the buckskin, clicking her tongue to calm him enough for her to get in the saddle again.

She makes it to the other side of Valentine before she has to stop Shasta. There’s a train at the station so she circles him to keep him calm while they wait, patting his neck and speaking to him. He snorts as the train pulls away and tries to pull on the reins to run, but Scarlet holds him back to a trot. He yanks on the reins again and she pulls back, forcing his head up and back to listen, making him stop.

“Hey, I said no. You need to calm down boy,” she warns him and loosens her hold on the reins so his head isn’t held back anymore. He snorts and paws the ground before moving at a trot as they cross the tracks He tries several more times to break into a run and on his fourth attempt being blocked, he starts bucking on the road.

Scarlet groans and tries to steer him out of the way as she sees two people riding up in the distance. She shifts her weight with Shasta, knowing he’s growing angry at not getting his way. He throws all his weight forward, slamming her into the horn and his neck before he rears, making her fall from his back. Once he feels her off his back, he bolts away from the incoming duo, who have sped up, and to the left. “Shasta!”

Her cry falls on deaf, pinned back ears as he disappears over the hills. She groans and picks herself up, stomping the ground and wiping the grass and dirt from herself. She’s swearing his name, curses strung together as they leave her lips almost like a prayer.

“What happened? Thought you knew how to ride?”

“Oh har har, you gonna laugh at me or help me get my horse back, Mr. Morgan?”

“I don’t know. That seemed pretty entertainin. What do you think, Charles? Should we help her?”

“Arthur.” The man named Charles sighs at the other man. Scarlet smiles at them and pulls an apple from her shoulder bag.

“Who’s a good boy, Smoke? You are. Huh? Yeah you are!” She coos as he happily accepts the apple. “Nice to meet you, Charles. Names Scarlet. Since James isn’t here I’m assuming you got to camp alright?” Charles smiles and nods his head.

“You too, Miss.”

“Yeah. He hitched your other horses, though we were worried ‘bout Shamrock for a minute there when he started rearin. Your son took mighty fine care of him though. He listened as soon as that boy spoke,” Arthur mused, eyes bright with mirth. Scarlet grinned.

“Ahh yeah. He’s still shy an skittish sometimes. I gotta break him of that. Charles, you mind if I give your horse an apple or carrot?”

“Not at all. Her name’s Taima.”

“Hey feller, you’re a good horse too huh? Yeah you are,” she pats his horse and offers the apple. Taima takes it and nickers happily, lightly nibbling her hand for traces of more until she pulls her hand away. “No more! That’s all silly girl.”

“Alright, enough bonding. We have a horse to catch. Come on, up ya get,” Arthur offers his hand and helps pull her up behind him. Smoke shifts at the unusual added weight before settling. Arthur turns with Charles, looking at the tracks.

“Looks like he went back this way over the tracks and that hill. With any luck he stopped there. Does he do this often?” Charles’ question is directed at Scarlet, but she’s busy readjusting from sitting side saddle to straddling the back of the saddle. They bring their horses to a gallop as they follow the fresh horse tracks pressed into the soft dirt.

“Kinda? He’s only fifteen but he acts like a three year old. If he don’t get his way he throws a tantrum, like the one y’all caught the end-a. Normally I ain't thrown. He threw me forward into the horn an his neck though an when it knocked the breath outta me he took the opportunity to rear an toss me,” she explains as she wraps her arms around Arthur’s waist. “Normally we just end up on a long run until he’s tired himself out. Then I make him at least trot home.”

“Did he have a previous owner?”

Scarlet sighs and recounts the story of her ownership of all three horses again to Charles as they make their way up the hill. She scans the ground, trying to see the tracks the men are looking at, but something shiny catches her eye.

“Hey, wait. What’s that?” She points to the left, by a cluster of small bushes. The silver metal reflects off the evening sun as the trio ride over to it. Scarlet slips from Smoke and picks up the item, cursing as she recognizes it. “He’s lost a shoe.” She stuffs the metal shoe into her pouch and clambers onto Smoke again, with Arthur’s help. They continue following the tracks, halfway to Emerald Ranch when Charles stops them, pulling out his binoculars.

“I think I’ve found him. Take a look,” Charles passes his binoculars to Scarlet as Arthur pulls his own out to look where his friend points. “Down in the dried river bed, rolling.”

Sure enough, Shasta is attempting to get his saddle off by rolling on it. There’s a small herd of about four horses that are watching him. They nicker and neigh, a couple rearing and kicking their front legs as they watch.

“What a wretch. Stupid boy,” Scarlet muttered as she hands the binoculars back. “Thank you, both of you.”

“Come on. Let’s go get your horse. Before he hurts himself,” Arthur chuckles and puts his binoculars away. They slowly make their way down the other side of the hill, towards the river bed where Shasta is struggling. The herd spooks as they draw near and piques Shasta’s interest. He scrambles to his feet, immediately propping his front right one like it hurts.

“Easy boy,” Charles calls out. Shasta’s ears are forward, listening to them. Scarlet slowly slips off Smoke and holds her hands up in front of her. When Shasta sees her, he pins his ears and snorts, letting out a mad nicker. She shushes him and reaches into her bag, pulling out something.

“Loose something, Boy? Lemme take a look at that foot’a yers,” she lets him see the metal shoe and he hangs his head in defeat, limping towards her. Arthur hops off Smoke as well, letting him graze while he helps Scarlet with her runaway. It takes a lot of coaxing but they eventually get Shasta to raise his hoof. Scarlet sighs at the sight. There’s dirt and mud and what looks like dried blood caked on the bottom.

“Come on. Let’s get him to the stables. They can put his shoe back on and probably get that foot taken care of,” Charles suggests. He tosses his lasso over Shasta’s neck as does Arthur, causing him to whinny and try to rear. Scarlet quickly grabs his halter and holds his face down, looking him in the eye as she soothes him.

“Come on, Big Dummy. We’re getting you someone to help,” she explains as she unties his reins, giving one to Charles and one to Arthur for them to tie to their horns so he can walk between them. Just added security for her if h somehow manages to break free of the lariats.

“Lucky you we came along when we did,” Arthur teases, lifting her onto the back of his horse. She smiles at him and thanks them again.

“Why’d y’all come lookin for me anyway?”

“Well, James said usually when Shasta acts up you can go for a run an be back within an hour or two. But when we got to camp an we got the horses hitched, fed, an watered, well James said you shoulda been on your way back. I knew you wouldn’t know where we were so I told Dutch I was comin to look for you. Asked Charles here to ride with me since he’s better at trackin than I am,” he explains, a hint of sheepishness in his voice as he compliments Charles. She grins and wraps her arms around him again as they turn back towards Valentine.

“Yeah. Usually, Dumbass here thinks he owns the world sometimes. I bet he’s feeling pretty low right now, ain’tcha Shas?” He huffs in reply and follows behind the trio. “I ran into some more O’Driscolls. I was comin outta the store an one of them tried callin me butI ignored them. Then he fired his gun in the air; Shasta spooked an kicked the shit out of him, which of course led to a chase,” she sighes and recalls her encounter with gang members. Charles shakes his head and Arthur tightens his hold on the reins. She reaches forward and rests her hand on his, chin resting on his arm as she looks up at him. “Hey, it’s okay. I should’ve had more control over him an not let him kick. But what’s done is done. I’m fine an the only injury is this Dummy. An it’s not too serious.”

“She’s right, Arthur. No need to dwell on the past,” Charles reasons. Arthur nods and relaxes a bit, which Scarlet is thankful for. She straightens as they cross the tracks and into Valentine. Shasta snorts as they near the stable.

“Here, I’ll walk him from here. It shouldn’t be too hard on him,” she suggests as they pull up by the individual corrals for horses. Arthur helps her down and he and Charles untie the reins and remove their lassos from Shasta as she reties his reins together. She leads him into the stable and greets the stable man again.

“Back so soon?”

“Yeah. This boy hurt himself. Lost a shoe and I think probably cut the underside of his hoof,” she pulls out the missing shoe and hands it over.

“Which one?”

“Front right. Shasta, here boy, lemme see your hoof,” she commands and grabs at the back of his knee, making him lift his leg slightly. She grabs it before he can drop it and he grunts in slight irritation at her touching his foot, but he allows it. “See?”

“Ahh yes. I can keep him stabled here and get all his hooves cleaned and re-shoe him in the morning. How’s four dollars sound?”

“Like you’re trying to rob me, Old Man,” she jokes and pulls out the money after letting Shasta put his foot down and rubbing his leg of any stiffness. “Good boy, Shas. Be a good boy for this nice man too, okay? I’ll get you in the morning,” she scratches his neck and places a kiss to his forehead. He whinnies, much like a whine, as she walks away from his stall. She turns and waves to him, thanking the owner again as she leaves.

“He all set?”

“Yeah. I can come get him in the mornin. I’m worried he’ll kick when he’s gettin shod, so I’ll probably be here for that. I can bring Shamrock,” she thinks aloud and puts a hand on Smoke’s rear. “Let’s get going. I’d like to see my boy again please.” She hauls herself behind Arthur and Charles chuckles at them as they ride out of Valentine and to their camp in the woods.

Scarlet memorizes the path as best she can as they make their way at a gallop. She’s got a tightened grip on Arthur as she tries to look around and get her bearings. Charles slows a little, causing Smoke too as well, and drops back to speak with her.

“How long have you and your boy been on your own? Where’s his father?” He asks, one arm hanging loose at his side, the other holding the reins comfortably on the horn. She visibly tenses and turns a bit to face him, taking a deep breath.

“Technically? Since he was born. His father’s around, but we’re not together. It uh, well, it wasn’t expected and his family don’t like my kind. His father’s from way out west, they say from the islands. Some of his family are more tan, but he looks bout as pale as I do. Though I also look like I’m from Ireland and I’m not, grandparents on my Ma’s side were. Least my grandpa was,” she shrugs. “James knows of his father and I allow them time together, but it’s away from his family. If they knew he had a son with someone not native of the islands they hail from, well, let’s just say it’s about as bad as it is for anyone else in interracial relationships,” she sighs. Charles reaches over the small distance between horses and pats her shoulder.

“I understand better than you think. My father was a colored man, mother an Indian. The hate I got from that, well, I understand well enough,” he admits. Scarlet’s shoulders relax at his admission and she thanks him for sharing, resting a hand over his before he pulls away to avoid another rider.

“I’m sorry. People can be cruel and outright vicious for no reason. I hope James learns a thing or two from you,” she hopes and gives him a smile.

“Are you two done yet? We’re almost there. I’m sure Dutch will want to talk to you once you’re settled. We have rules here, you know the majority of them, but the most important is you don’t talk,” Arthur interjects. Scarlet hums behind him, nodding as she listens. “By that, I mean if you get caught you don’t know where camp is. You don’t know where Dutch is, you don’t know where nobody is. Loyalty is-”

“Loyalty is hard to come by and it’s one of few things that will keep me alive,” Scarlet cuts him off. It’s not exactly what Arthur was going to say, but it’s close enough. “Don’t worry. If it means havin my son protected, I’ll endure pain to high hell an back.”

“Right, well, good then. When you ride into camp, one of our guys will ask who it is to make sure it’s one of us, not someone like a bounty hunter. Just call out your name and they should let you in no trouble, if not, well, just holler for me and I’ll come escort you in,” Arthur offers.

“Same for me. Bill and Micah sometimes have a hard time trusting new people,” Charles states as they cut off the path and under two fallen trees making an X.

“Who goes there?”

“It’s just me and Charles, Lenny!”

“Oh, hey, Arthur! Who’s that?” Lenny asks as they approach the smaller boy. Scarlet smiles and nods to him.

“Scarlet O’Hara. Arthur here brought my boy and my wagon earlier?” She supplies as they slow to a walk to talk with him.

“Oh yeah! James is gettin along just fine. He was playin dominoes with Tilly just a bit ago. I don’t think he’s met Jack yet,” Lenny tells them as he waves to Charles and steps to the side so he’s not as noticeable in the path. “Y’all take care.”

“I like him. He’s a sweet boy,” she muses as Arthur leads his horse to the hitching post and climbs down. He offers his hand to her and helps her down as well.

“Yep. Lenny’s young, but he knows how to fight, he leads her to her horses, both lifting their heads and whinnying loudly as she approaches.

“Hey there my loves, y’all doin a’right?” She greets and rubs each of their noses and foreheads. They nuzzle her and Fancy nips at her bag while Shamrock nips at her hair. “Alright, okay, enough,” she pushes on their noses and they back off, heads bouncing a little. “Good boy, good girl. Y’all behave yourselves now ya hear?” She leaves them and follows Arthur to his wagon before he turns and points to the right of his.

“I set you up right here next to me. This way if you need anything you can come to me. Dutch is here on my left. We have a ledger and money box, pretty much somethin for us to give back to the group, yanno? So if you have any nice pelts or money or whatever you can contribute, just put it in the money box. It helps us upgrade not only our supplies but our wagons an livin too,” he shows her his wagon and hers before taking her to Dutch’s tent. “Dutch?”

“Ah, Arthur my boy, you brought her. Good good. Look, I have something for you two to do. I need two capable people to go after this lead. Now, normally I wouldn’t let someone new go, but Ms. O’Hara isn’t like the others we’ve had to teach, from what we’ve seen, so take her with you. There’s word of some good horses being found but unable to be broken, up past Valentine near the mountains. Some town folk mentioned they trapped them in a high fenced corral so they can’t jump out. Now, the rancher who found them and got the help to herd them into the corral is offering a decent price to break them, or at least one of them. I told the man that I’d have one of my men meet him tomorrow at the saloon. Just go early and tell him Uncle Tacitus sent you. I promise you won’t miss him. Scarlet, it’s good to have you with us. James was running around earlier after he got your horses settled. He’s taken a real liking to all the horses, and they him. Does he ride?”

“Dutch Van der Linde, you are not teaching my boy to be a gunslinger,” her tone is playfully scolding. “ Yes, he knows how to ride, but I only allow him to ride Fancy because she won’t spook or go too fast with him. He can hunt too, so I’m fine with him going hunting. So long as it’s with myself, Arthur, or Charles,” she reasons, chin out and tilted up a little in defying challenge. Dutch holds up his hands and laughs at her, nodding.

“Yes, Ma’am. Hunting only,” he accepts as he sits down in the chair near the opening. “I was asking if he rode because I’d like someone to be able to help Jack learn, if his mother doesn’t mind,” he clarifies as he looks up at them, elbows resting on his knees. Scarlet nods and crosses her arms.

“I can ask. Who’s Jack’s parents?”

“Abigail and John. Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone. Dutch, we’ll meet that guy tomorrow, if you’re sure,” Arthur begrudgingly agrees. Dutch nods and grabs a cigar from the small table beside him. Arthur gestures for Scarlet to follow him as he heads toward the small group gathering around the fire.

“Uncle Arthur! Uncle Arthur! I made a new friend! His name is James!” A little boy runs up to Arthur, bouncing on his toes as he glances over his shoulder at James. Arthur smiles and kneels.

“Is that right?”

Scarlet smiles at her son and crouches down to be eye level with Jack too. “Hello, hun. James is my son, he’s being nice right?”

“Oh yes ma’am! He let me pet the new horses that came in! He said they were friendly and he let me give them half a carrot each!” The little boy exclaims as he looks at her. “James is my new friend.” He repeats. She giggles at him and nods, glancing up at James who walks over.

“Did he now? Did he show you the right way to offer treats so they don’t accidentally bite you?” She coos to the young boy, hand out for James, who takes it and gives her a hug.

“Yes he did. He said my palm needed to be flat so they didn’t think any of my fingers were part of the carrot. He told me their names and said to pet their necks,” the boy rambles animatedly, gesturing with his hands.

“Yep, that’s with all horses. You don’t want to lose any fingers cause they didn’t know it wasn’t part of their treat,” she explains and gets back to her feet, ruffling James’ hair and kissing his head. “You’re Jack, right?”

“That’s right! My Ma and Pa are over here,” he turns and points to the campfire where everyone is sitting or lounging, eating bowls of stew.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you Jack. I’m Miss Scarlet,” she states as the boy takes James’ hand and starts to pull him along. James shoots both adults a pleading look for help that they laugh at. Jack waves bye as he smiles brightly once the two children reach the group.

“Well, he’s sure cheerful for an only kid,” she laughs lightly as Arthur gets back on his feet. He agrees and they continue their small trek until Arthur grabs a bowl and fills it for her.

“Here. It’s not much, but Mr. Pearson’s an okay cook,” he offers her the bowl and sits by Charles with his own.

“Thanks, there’s so many interesting characters here. I’ve never known a group to be so...diverse,” she stumbles to find the right words for a moment.

“They’re family. It’d be weird to think of them as anything but,” Arthur acknowledges and tips his hat to Lenny, who he beckons over. “You’ve already met Lenny boy here. He’s one of the younger ones but he’s right good with a gun and I trust him wholly. Charles here hasn’t been running with us but a few months. Miss Grimshaw has been with Dutch almost for quite some time. I’ve been here since I was a boy. We just recently picked up Mrs. Adler this spring.

“We lost a lot of people coming from Blackwater. Some to the cold, harsh winter. Others from some from wounds received for runnin with us. Davey and little Jenny we just lost this winter,” he explains and points out those he names.

“Javier has been with us for a while too, Hosea and Dutch are like the leaders here. They’re a great team, both like fathers to me. This gang started as us three, then we grew. John’s been with us since he was a boy too, we found him like Dutch and Hosea had me. Poor bastard can’t swim. Then along came Abigail an well, shortly thereafter those two gettin together we had Jack. He’s about four or five now if I remember right. Mr. Pearson’s been here since I can remember.

“Strauss is here occasionally. When he’s not out loaning money to folks. Then I go play big bad cowboy to get the money owed. Uncle’s been here for quite some time too. He’s a lazy piece of shit but he will put in work, at least for Dutch. Bill, well, Bill’s somethin else. He’s ready to jump when Dutch says and I’m afraid that might get him killed one day. Then there’s Micah,” the way his voice changes makes Scarlet quirk a brow. There’s a story there and she’s not sure she wants to hear it. She makes a mental note to ask about his disdain of Micah later. She knows why she doesn’t like him, but she wants to hear his reasons for the obvious dislike of the group number.

“I met him. Bill too I think. They were the goons who barged into my house that I hogtied, weren’t they?” She asks, turning slightly in her seat to face him. Arthur pauses mid bite, spoon halfway to his mouth. He lets the spoonful back into the bowl and lets out a loud laugh.

“Yeah. You’re right. Dutch did send those two idiots to ‘help’ you. You handled them really well too. I wish you coulda seen it, Charles. She had them both hogtied on her floor. Did James help you?”

“No. I had him tossin some logs in the pit we had so we could burn the O’Driscoll corpses. Usually the horses run off and those that don’t I take to the nearest stable or fence to sell them. You learn a lot by being on your own.” She smiles and goes back to her soup, listening to the rest of the story about the remaining group.

“Sean, poor boy, was caught in Blackwater. I’m not sure if he survived or not. I hope so. He’s a good lad, Irish feller. Cocky bastard an stronger accent,” Arthur chuckles. “Reverend Swanson, he’s, well you’ll see. Then there’s Miss O’Shea. Molly. She’s, uhh, well she’s Dutch’s girl I guess? I don’t rightly know their situation. Just that he’s sweet on her, or used to be. Karen and Mary-Beth were some good girls we helped out, kinda like you. All our women are rowdy spitfires, honestly. Most won't take no for an answer. Tilly there, we helped her out too. Some fools were tryin to say they owned her because she owed them somethin or other. So we fought an brought Tilly with us. She’s a smart girl, loves dominoes too. She’s good at it.

“I believe that’s just about everyone but you and James. And the horses of course, but if you really want to know about them you’re better off asking the owner of each. I can tell you about Taima, Smoke, Old Boy, Silver Dollar, and The Count, Dutch’s horse, but that’s about it. The ones without saddles are the ones we have pullin our wagons.”

“Now that you know a bit about us, why don’t you tell us a little about yourself?” Charles asks, bowl off to the side. Scarlet nods and takes another bite as she thinks over what she can tell them; what she feels comfortable with letting them know.

“Well, I have an eight year old son, James. I have three horses: Fancy, her son Shamrock, and the hard headed Shasta who’s gotta get his shoe fixed at the stable in Valentine. I am in touch with James’ father via letters but we are not together. Not really. I know it’s not normal but it’s somethin that I don’t wanna press on. We can’t be together and I’m content with him just bein a father to James, honestly. I’ve been on my own with him since he was a newborn; I don’t need anyone to help with him. He listens right for the most part.

“His father’s from the islands, by Cuba I think he said. Least that’s his heritage. I come from a nice southern home where my parents taught me to read and write, figuring I’d be the least problematic of the four. I grew tired of the constant raiders preachin bout needin to rise again an takin out yankees. The whole war never really sat well with me; makes me ashamed to say I called the south home for so long.

I haven’t seen my brothers in years, since before James was born, and haven’t heard a lick of’em either. My little sister is doing well I hear though, she’s got a nice ranch back home. I guess my parents are stayin with her now an she’s got a good man with her. As for me, I moved around a lot. I don’t much like a lot of people knowing my business. So when people start comin snoopin, I pack up an leave. Like we did today. Set the house on fire and leave when it’s dark.

“James came along after I met up with his father, a good friend of mine for years, to catch up. We hung out for the week he was in town, him staying at my place. We uh, well let’s just say neither of us expected him. We were drunk and we talked about our options once we found out. He said he was thrilled at the idea of being a father, despite his family’s anger if they ever were to find out. They didn’t ever like me hangin round him much, but that’s because I’m not an islander like them. He’s a decent father, sends money to help with clothes, asks when an where we can meet him so he can spend some time with James. Sometimes it’s annoyin we still gotta sneak around his parents, but I understand. They’d disown him an he’d be cast out. It’s a cruel, backwards way-a thinkin but it is what it is.

“There’s not much else too me. I never wanted to run with a gang but things change. The O’Driscolls raided my neighbors one night and they tried to raid my house the next night. I had a dog at the time, so they didn’t get far. James weren’t but maybe a year old at the time. Bless that baby, he was asleep when they came. Colm fucking O’Driscoll just pushed his way passed his men, a few dead on my floor, said I could an would join him, warm his bed for awhile, an be part of his gang or face the consequences of tellin him no. I told him to eat shit an my dog came from the bedroom, snarlin and barkin at them. Colm shot him, right between the eyes, but not before Teague bit his thigh. His men had to help him onto his horse after that. He’d cursed my name an threatened they’d be back. So I made a makeshift carrier for James, saddled up Fancy an Shasta with anythin that would fit in the side bags, then loaded my bed, food, clothes, an necessities into the wagon Shamrock was hooked up to an left.

“They came back to a burned down house. I only know because a friend of mine said he was riding by the next mornin to check on me since he read about my neighbors in the newspaper an saw them searchin through the smolderin remains. He had taken me in when I had no where else to go. My parents place was too far an I couldn’t go see James’ father. Not with a baby. They’d talk. So I stayed low for a while, my horses locked in the barn with the wagon containin all my belongings at my friend’s. Then, when we were sure they weren’t actively lookin for me, we left an my friend helped set me up in a new place. A nice little ranch where I worked as a milkmaid. It wasn’t too bad. The rancher’s wife was more than happy to have another baby around as all her children were grown.

“She arranged for me to work five days with two off so I could spend that time with my son. When they found out I could ride an shoot, they asked if I could help do night security instead of full milk maid. Of course I took that offer. I’d rather be in a saddle than milking cows all day. I’d watch for wolves, coyotes, foxes an the like. Any raiders were shot too. My friend, bless him, brought Fancy to me because he knew she was the best around guns an new things. Shamrock and Shasta were, and are still, learnin.

“As soon as they saw how great of a pair we were, well, they asked if I’d been a gunslinger before. I answered honestly with no. But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t taught how to act like one. My father was one, which I guess is one reason why my mom an him split. But then she found a nice man who took my older brother an myself in; helped my Ma raise us two. Then along came my little siblings an that’s it. Not too much interestin bout me,” she takes a breath before going back to her stew. By now, several of the others have gathered around them to hear about the new woman. Karen, Mary-Beth, Sadie, Abigail, Molly, an Susan circle on one side of the table to listen. James and Jack sat between her and Arthur, James closer to Scarlet and Jack closer to Arthur. Lenny makes a noise between a scoff and a chuckle.

“Sorry. I’m not laughin at’cha. I just find it funny that Colm got burnt by you is all. He’s not known to back down like that. From all I’ve heard he’s take what he wants, shoots, then maybe asks questions,” he explains as Scarlet nods along. She pushes her empty bowl away and taps James’, a silent request for him to finish his. He sighs but murmurs a “Yes, Ma” before he continues to work on his meal.

“Wouldn’t’ve thought you were. I’m not what most people expect. I’ve always had a wild streak, my Ma said on a number of occasions that it probably wasn't wise to have taught me to read and write because of it. Said if I didn’t learn to watch my mouth and self that I’d end up on the wrong side of a gang. Guess she was right,” she shrugs and wraps an arm around her son’s shoulders. “He’s my life though. And gang or not I’d kill every other damn gang alive if it meant keepin him safe.”

“Come on, everyone has their own tasks in the morning!” Dutch claps his hands, having been standing at the end of the table closest to Scarlet along with Micah and John. She startles slightly at his outburst, not expecting him beside her. “You can all talk to Miss O’Hara more later. She’ll be joining the group,” he addresses them. They disperse at his look, ‘goodnight’s and ‘see you in the morning’s being passed about them.

“Come now, Jack. Time to wash up and get ready for bed,” Abigail urges her son. He pouts but says goodnight to James who gives him a wave and turns in his seat, stew gone. He gives Scarlet a questioning look to which she gestures to their wagon. He excuses himself and disappears in the back of the wagon.

“Sorry about them. Sometimes they get carried away with questions and other’s personal lives,” Dutch apologizes on behalf of his family and friends. Scarlet smiles and gives him a shrug as she pushes up from the table.

“They’re not bad, weren’t hurtin no one. I won’t give James’ father the location here. Usually we go to him, meet him in a town or his place. Less worry for you an less work for me. It’s easier that way.”

“I’m not worried about you. I’m sure you have grasped a good understandin of what is expected and required of you here.”

“Of course. I do hope you don’t expect me to stay though. I can’t just not work. I can take on bounties and other jobs to help out,” she tells him as she steps away. “But, Mr. Morgan and I have a job to do bright and early. Shouldn’t be too hard.” Dutch nods as she slips by him to help James pull their sleeping bags and pillows from the back of the wagon.

“She’s something else,” Arthur shakes his head as he collects the bowls and takes them to Pearson’s wagon to be washed later. He heads to his wagon to get some sleep too.

“That’s for sure. You sure bout her, Dutch? I don’t like her joinin us.”

“What’s wrong, Micah? Still grumpy she hogtied you and Bill?” John teases as the trio walk to Dutch’s tent. Dutch smiles at their banter.

“You hush your mouth, cowpoke, before I mess up the other side of your face,” Micah threatens and reaches for his knife.

“Enough, Micah. John, you too. Knock it off. She’d have had you hogtied too,” Dutch warns, stopping their quarrel. “I think having her is a good thing. I think she’ll help us bring in the money we need to go somewhere we aren’t wanted. Don’t doubt me, Micah. She’s good for us,” he reassures his men. “Now go get some rest. We all have important things to do tomorrow. Micah, don’t forget you’re taking Lenny out scouting past Valentine.”

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