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comradeyuri · 2 days ago

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A Good Man Within, A Bad Woman Without

This was inspired by a conversation I had with @f--hawk where Mary Linton was the outlaw and Arthur Morgan was a cute, himbo rancher. It's very AU (no VDL gang and Arthur and Mary have never met before). Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Hints at Canon typical violence and sexism. Things will get steamier later.

You can also read it on AO3

When she’d heard about the ranch with an easy take, she certainly hadn’t expected that her first port of call would be sheltering in the barn. The ride between Valentine and Strawberry had been pleasant enough, the warm sun on her back, a light breeze rushing over the hills and grass underneath Shadow’s horse hooves. A few clouds were growing on the horizon, but they were distant and fluffy white, hardly the bearer of a storm.

She’d heard about this fool in the Valentine saloon. A man too kind for his own good, patient with kids, respectful to women, courteous to his neighbours and apparently a dab hand at looking after any and all animals.

Mary Linton wasn’t exactly a cruel woman, but she preferred easy takes when she could get them. He had enough wealth to afford some good cattle and excellent horses. No doubt he would recover in time, perhaps a little wiser and more cautious than before. Being stolen from would do him some good.

By the time she passed the Owanjila though, the rain was pouring down and even with her leather jacket, chaps and boots, she was drenched to the skin. The water made her hair slick to her scalp and she could barely see through the torrential storm. At one point she even lost the road and had to circle back when she realised had gone too far. When she reached the ranch by Little Creek, the house was lit up brightly, but not a soul could be seen and she quickly urged her horse over to the barn.

The warm smell of dung, animals and hay permeated through the damp wood of the barn, and she was grateful that the animals therein provided some warmth. There was a shuffling group of cows, pressed closely together and further down some stalls containing horses. She noticed with excitement a beautiful, white Arabian. That would be worth a pretty penny for sure.

She unpinned her bun, trying to squeeze the water out, and then shook out her shirt. She wished she could light a fire to warm up that way, but she certainly didn’t want to draw attention from the house to her.

Mary walked over to the doorway and took another look at the storm. ‘Guess, we’re waiting this one out, boy,’ she murmured quietly to Shadow. The dark, American thoroughbred looked at Mary with something akin to understanding and gratitude. She didn’t doubt he was pleased to be out of the storm.

Mary headed back into the barn and settled down on a pile of straw. She thought about getting out her journal, but didn’t want to risk dripping water all over the pages. She rested her head against a stable door, gazing up at a softly burning lamp on one of the rafters.

She yawned, a robbery a few days ago meant she had got very little sleep last night or the one prior to that. She had to travel all the way from the state of Lemoyne to the Heartlands, and didn’t want to be caught out by bounty hunters following her trail. So she had travelled through the night and had only caught a little sleep last night once she was hidden in some woods, then continued on her way to Valentine. She had slept a full night in the hotel, but still felt groggy today.

She briefly closed her eyes, then jerked awake. It would not do to fall asleep, but perhaps she could risk a small nap. She settled back on the rough, wooden door and closed her eyes. It would only be for a little while, just a short sleep to stop her from falling out of the saddle on the ride back.

***

A cold wind blew sharply through the barn and she woke with a start. The breeze seemed to have blown out the lamp overhead and she was just about to get to her feet, when she heard a muttered curse.

‘Goddammit,’ a man growled with a rough, southern drawl. Panic leapt into her heart and she thought about moving off the straw. But even as she shifted her weight the dry grass whispered against the stone floor and she stilled, fearing that if she moved, he would hear her.

‘What the-?’ the stranger began to say and she heard Shadow give a soft nicker in the darkness. Mary heard Shadow’s hooves clatter on the cold, stone floor. The man had fallen silent, but then she heard his voice gently crooning to her horse, ‘Hey there. How’d you get here? Where’s your rider?’

She almost let out a huff of laughter, it was like he expected the horse to answer. ‘Oh, she’s over there, my good man. Funnily enough she was planning to rob you, but fell asleep like a damn fool!’

The man was clattering about in the barn, he had gone over to a long table she had passed when she had walked in. He seemed to be trying to find something on the table or in one of the drawers. During the bashing and crashing about, her hand went to her gun belt and she carefully removed the revolver from its holster. He seemed to find what he was looking for.

‘Let’s get some light in here, eh boy?’ he said.

‘Shit!’ she thought. She heard the creak and winding of a rope as the man pulled the lamp down from the rafter.

She had a minute or so to decide how she was going to play this. Tough broad. Scared, helpless maiden. Should she pretend that she was sleeping still or should she just shoot? She had heard tell the Rancher didn’t have a wife or any family to speak of, but they had mentioned in the saloon he had several ranch hands. They would surely come running if she fired, and then it would be a desperate escape with no reward or reason for having done any of this.

Before she could decide, the sharp crack of a match and the flickering light grew into a soft, golden glow as the man relit the lamp. His eyes were first drawn to Shadow, who tossed his head and whickered at the sight of the man. But then the man’s eyes darted across the barn and he spotted her, his eyes grew wide but she couldn’t tell if it was from fear or fascination.

They both stared at each other, the pistol was still gripped in her hand, but she found herself unable to move or do anything but stare in the eyes of the man. He had such beautiful, ocean green eyes that she found herself thinking it would be a shame to rob the light from them. The dark hat he wore on his head had protected his brown hair from the rain, but a few droplets fell from it onto the stone floor or on his broad shoulders. He wore a tan leather jacket, a striped black shirt underneath, dark jeans and boots.

He opened and closed his mouth several times, before finally asking, ‘Who the hell are you?’

‘I… um… I got caught out in the rain, I was riding out to see my sister, but it started pouring and I thought…’ She cautiously got to her feet, her hand tightening around the gun. He had a rifle slung over his shoulder, but showed no inclination to use it. He just stood there, gaping at her. Any other man would have probably chased her off or done far worse.

‘Why didn’t you ride up to the house, didn’t you see the lights? It would’ve been a lot warmer by the fire.’ he said.

‘I didn’t want to intrude and I didn’t know what you folks were like.’

He chuckled slightly and gently moved Shadow out of the way so he could approach her. She drew back. He immediately stilled and raised a hand slowly as though calming a wild horse. ‘Well, I know some folks around here ain’t friendly, but I like to think I ain’t so bad. What’s your name, Ma’am?’

She felt herself blush at the respectful term; it had been a long time since anyone had politely called her Ma’am. Probably the last time was when she had been married to Barry, a respectable woman with her own house, a sizable garden, and a maid that cleaned the place once a week.

‘Marianne. Marianne Gillis.’

He nodded partially in acknowledgement, partially in greeting. ‘Arthur. Arthur Morgan.’

She cautiously nodded back. Mr Morgan stepped forward, but when she flinched, he seemed to reconsider and came to a halt. ‘Some say I’m a good judge of character, Miss Gillis. So I’d like to invite you inside, yer can sit by the fire, warm up properly. Are you hungry?’

Mary kept her expression schooled into polite indifference, though she was surprised to hear that some said he was a good judge of character. He quite clearly wasn’t, considering he was inviting her inside. The men she had heard talking at the saloon had said he was an optimistic fool with not enough sense and was too trusting.

But she was starving. She hadn’t eaten during the day, too eager to get here to stop off at Strawberry or hunt elsewhere. The last meal she had was some watery stew at the Valentine saloon. Her belly rumbled and she surreptitiously put her hand over it, so it would not give her away. She was suspicious though; she didn’t doubt for a minute that this man would drug anything she ate or take advantage of her the minute she was sat down. Perhaps he was not such a great fool.

He looked nervous when she didn’t speak and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘You can… I mean, if you prefer, you can stay out here. But I could get you a blanket, so you could dry yourself off.’

She frowned in puzzlement; this was truly bizarre. His consideration and kindness was not something she had much experience with. Being an outlaw was hard enough, being a single woman with no one to rely on was another matter! She had no intention to whore herself out, but that had never stopped anyone from propositioning her even when she had been trying to enjoy a quiet drink in a saloon. She had attempted to bind her breasts and even cut her hair at times, but it made no difference.

She’d evidently fallen silent for too long again. Mr Morgan coughed nervously and gestured to Shadow. ‘I could see to your horse at least, put him in one of the stables so he can rest. He’s a fine animal.’

‘Yes, he is,’ Mary said. ‘Sorry, I’m not used to people treating me kindly. I thought you’d shoot me on sight.’

Arthur frowned as though the concept was beyond his comprehension. ‘Why would I do that? You ain’t done anything wrong.’

She bit her lip hard to stop herself from bursting into laughter. Trespassing and being in a barn filled with expensive animals, including an Arabian horse, would have been enough for most people to warrant shooting her.

‘Alright,’ she agreed, and couldn’t quite believe she was about to readily accept the offer of a meal and a warm fire. ‘I’ll take you up on your kind offer, Mr Morgan.’

A small, pleased smile readily came to his lips. ‘Great, we ain’t finished dinner yet. Let me put away your horse.’

She watched him place Shadow into a free stall, then remove the bridle and saddle, she was distracted by how gentle and patient he was with her horse. He kept up a stream of soft, murmured praises and compliments for her horse. ‘Ya a good boy, eh? There’s a good boy, that’s it. Just that last bit, bet that feels better.’

As he pulled a blanket over Shadow’s back, Mary quietly placed the pistol back in her holster. She rolled her eyes on seeing Shadow’s haughty toss of his head, as though he was saying that this was the kind of treatment he expected and deserved!

Arthur stepped out of the stall, closing it securely behind him, but leaving the saddle and reins on a hook. He began to walk towards the barn door. Mary fell into step beside him, but Mr Morgan suddenly halted. She was about to ask if something was the matter, but Mr Morgan removed his brown leather jacket and offered it to her.

‘It’s still rainin’,’ he explained.

‘I’m sure I’ll be alright with the short walk up to the house.’ She wanted her arms and hands free from the weight of his jacket, just in case he tried any funny business.

He looked worried and extended the jacket to her again, but seeing the refusal in her eyes he nodded slowly and pulled it back on. ‘Alright, guess we’ll run to the house,’ he gave her a reassuring smile and opened the barn door for her.

She stepped out, the rain was still lashing down on the ground and the mud squelched around her boots. Arthur grabbed a lantern he had left on a hook by the door, then offered Mary a hand so she could step over a large puddle. She hesitated briefly but, keeping her other hand on her hip, she took his proffered hand and lightly hopped over the dirty water. But as she landed on the other side, her heel slipped. She let out a small cry of surprise, but Arthur had already grabbed hold of her and pulled her back upright. She stumbled forward and almost into his chest.

‘Sorry,’ he muttered quietly. ‘Yer alright?’

She stepped away from him, straightening her back and nodded firmly. He gestured for her to follow him and headed up towards the farm house. It was still brightly lit up and shone like a welcoming beacon in the darkness.

#rdr2 #arthur morgan #i love this fanfiction #🥺💗

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