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journal-of-an-outlaw · 4 years ago

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Price to be Paid - Chapter 29

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“Are we in the business of revenge now?” You asked Hosea, standing on the balcony as Dutch and Arthur retreaded into the house.

“He better be right about this one, YN. I’m worried.”

Hosea simply sighed and covered his face with his hands while he took a deep breath. He gave you a sad smile and followed the two other men while you fought against the burn raging deep inside. How was Arthur okay with this? Getting back for a setup by plotting a murder?

The whole thing made your stomach turn.

You entered the house and listened trying to locate Arthur. He and Dutch couldn't have gone far in the few minutes since you had been with them but no sounds carried to you outside of the normal creaks of the wood and buzz of the bugs. You closed your eyes and took it all in before letting out a huff and heading to the front of the house.

“Arthur!” You called out.

He turned and motioned to Dutch before heading back to you. “You need something?”

“Yes,” you put your hands on your hips. “What in the hell was all that?”

Arthur steered you to the side of the house with a gentle hand that stayed in place on your arm after you stopped. You watched him think as he opened and closed his mouth before speaking. His eyebrows pulled together and he sighed.

“This ain’t Dutch. Or rather, those decisions aren’t him, something’s happened. All that talk up there felt like him but the words were off. I think I can help him. I’m hoping...well, maybe he’ll listen to me even if Hosea couldn't get through to him. But I’m not leaving him alone.”

You weren’t sure if Arthur was pleading with you or himself, but his eyes showed how desperately he wanted to help the man who raised him, who shaped him into the person standing before you at that moment. The goodness in Arthur had been foreign to Dutch who was more used to the language of manipulation. The words rolled off his tongue with harsh stops and pauses, leaving Arthur to wonder if something was wrong in his heart as a child. You could tell this was weighing on him and you took his hands in yours, staring into the eyes that needed guidance in such a task.

“YN...I need to do this. I need to prove that I can be there for Dutch when he needs me most.”

“Who are you doing this for?” you whispered softly. “For Dutch? Or for yourself?”

Arthur looked confused. “No one but him.”

“You know I’ll support you no matter what Arthur, that’s what this ring means. But there is one condition to this plan of yours.”

A laugh broke through his lips as he replied. “And what’s that?”

“I’m coming with you.”

Dutch protested when you and Arthur told him the change in plans, mumbling something about too many people rocking the boat, but finally gave in once he realized Arthur would not tell you no.

You spent your time lately watching Dutch around camp. His movements, his interactions, his manner of holding himself when he thought no one else was looking. Folks seemed to hold him to the same standards; a fearless leader who could sweet talk his way out of any scrape and a man who inspired the hopeless to walk another mile through the desert for water. It was a lot of weight for one person to carry, and was obvious when the balance tipped one way or the other. Dutch was still wip smart, of that there was no change. But sometimes you worried that your secret was one of those things that would slip out and ruin everything you had worked so hard for.

The fear of your father finding you circled in your mind almost always. It had been so long he had become a characterture when you thought of him, Andrew Milton. The yellow teeth sneer, the shimmering forehead of sweat, and the beady black eyes. Although you knew that wasn’t true. Every time you looked into a mirror his eyes stared back at you. A terrible dark reminder that part of you would always belong to him.

Your trio set off to see a man about a boat. Dutch met a man named Thomas who lived in a small swampy settlement called Lagras just north of Saint Denis. By the time you arrived it was dark and foggy, the perfect setting for the nefarious plan Dutch himself had devised.

He wanted this boat so that he could sneak up on Bronte. The canal running behind his mansion provided the perfect opportunity to sneak in without being seen and allowing for an easy escape. That was of course if things all went as planned.

Arthur had tried talking to Dutch on the way up about his motives for moving on Bronte but the conversation had steered into an opportunity for Dutch to thank Arthur for picking his side against Hosea. It caught you off guard to hear that and Arthur was even quiet for a few minutes before speaking again.

Dutch made a point to show he was supporting twenty people here while also planning for their escape and life in a new country. Your eyes darted to Arthur at these words, knowing that Dutch should be planning for two less in his count but neither of you wanted to face that conversation yet. Talk of the future only churned your stomach more, especially when Dutch brought up Micah.

“We need to move, and soon. Haven’t I made that clear?” Dutch sputtered. “I feel like I’m going in circles with all of you! Micah is the only one left with any loyalty.”

“Now that ain’t true and you know it!”

“You are talking like John. I swear that woman is poisoning him against me. I know what it looks like, I’ve seen it before.” The glance Dutch gave you when he spoke was not missed by Arthur or yourself.

“Abigail ain’t poisoning John, Dutch,” you replied flatly. “She’s a good woman.”

“What’s the problem here? You think Micah would question going after Bronte? No! He’d say, let’s go!”

“That’s the problem, Dutch!” Arthur was nearly yelling. The conversation had taken a darker turn and you rode behind the two as they argued. “I’m here, ain’t I? I’ve been at your side for twenty years!”

Arthur sat up straight as an arrow, chest heaving and eyes narrowed down small. From your spot in the back you could tell just how agitated he really was about the accusations Dutch was throwing around, seemingly planned and thought out before.

“I know! I...I...I’m sorry, son. ” The older man’s voice quickly melted from barely contained rage into something softer. His eyes relaxed, but he still looked worried. “It’s just the endless debate about everything is wearing me down. The others I can take. But when you’re not behind me, it hurts.”

Dutch was good, you’d give him that. He actually sounded wounded at the thought of Arthur abandoning him and put on a good show but something in your gut told you it was all for show. All of this bravado was to make sure in the end Dutch still came out ahead, no matter the cost.

Arthur sighed. “I’m behind you.”

“Blackwater.” The name jerked your head up. “Valentine. Rhodes. Sean. Kieran. I promise none of it will be in vain. We are going to make it.”

“I know we will.”

Arthur cast a glance back at you and was surprised to find your eyebrows close together, an angry look on your face. You didn’t notice how long he stared trying to find the source of your resentment and somehow knowing without wanting to acknowledge it.

“Here we are. Let me do the talking you two,” Dutch said quietly as he swung down from his horse.

Eclipse huffed at the new area of swap. The air hung hot and sticky around you, your hand doing little to fan away the swarm of bugs that descended as you made your way down an old forgotten path. Small huts lined the banks of the river but looked like they had been there as long as time itself and folks that moved away from your line of sight just as soon as you saw them. One man stayed put, moving something around on his porch.

“Thomas! It is good to see you my friend.”

Dutch shook the hand of the man on the porch enthusiastically, excited for the endeavor you were setting out on. The man smiled and responded in kind.

“Hello, Mr. Dutch. I see you brought more friends with you.”

Reluctantly Dutch introduced you after Arthur. “Thomas is quite the boatman, he’s going to help us get close to our prey. The other night we had an adventure fishing for catfish. Now, my friend, can I call in that favor?”

Thomas didn’t hesitate in the slightest. “What do you need?”

“You know Angelo Bronte?” The question hung heavy as the humidity in the air. Everyone knew the man who ran Saint Denis. Thomas spit as an answer. “Exactly. We need to make a...social call. We were hoping you cold row us in quietly one evening around the back of his house.”

“Well,” Thomas huffed. “If anyone can, I can. And don’t worry about payment, if you’re bringing him trouble it won’t be no trouble for me. My business partner Jules is out on the skiff. I’ll need to check with him, and check the traps. Would you come with me?”

“‘Course. Although, perhaps the lady would be more comfortable staying on the shore?” Dutch suggested.

You ground your teeth. “The lady is going with you and can speak for herself.”

Thomas lead the four of you down and out on the marsh to look for Jules, warning that large gators lived in the area and would bite if provoked. You moved closer to Arthur and grabbed the back of his arm, listening as he chuckled.

“You ain’t scared?” You asked.

Arthur looked back to see if you were serious. “Darlin, I’ve met plenty of gators. Most of them were wearing slick, fancy suits at the time but this’ll be nothing. Just stay close behind me.”

A whine escaped your lips as your boots slipped in the mud and Thomas called out to watch where you stepped. He suggested staying on the high ground although it all looked the same to you.

“What are we checking for, Thomas?” Dutch asked.

“Crayfish! Got a couple of traps up ahead here. Mr. Dutch, you keep a look out for company with the lady on shore, Mr. Arthur? Come with me and check the traps.”

Arthur marched further into the mud as your heart clenched tightly with nerves. You wrang your hands as the water rose to his hips while he reached down to feel for the trap. He called out it was empty and Thomas took off towards the next set. It was on another plot of land through the water and you hesitated at the edge of the water. Something splashed about five feet to your right and you jogged through the thick water to catch up to Arthur and the others.

“I can see why evening swamp wading hasn’t caught on as a pastime!” Dutch joked.

Thomas raised his lantern and smiled. “I love it out here. Peaceful. Nobody bothering you none. ‘Cept for the Night Folks sometimes.”

“The Night Folk?” Your heart raced through your chest as the water rose higher with each step. Arthur and the others were a few inches taller and it wasn’t long before your chest was almost submerged in the murky green river.

“Yeah, some strange people round these parts. Wilder than the animals, they are.”

Arthur turned at the pressure of you gripping his shoulder and raised his eyebrows in alarm. While the water rose halfway up his chest, it was now over your shoulders and you fought the need to swim.

“How much further to those next traps, Thomas?” He called out as he pulled you in close to his side.

“Should be right about here, on that small island up ahead. I don’t know what’s taking Jules so long with that boat.” It sounded ominous as Thomas glanced around the swamp. The night engulfed this place so fully you could barely see ten feet ahead of you.

“Arthur!” You whispered against his chest. “Something touched my leg, oh god.” He rubbed your arm, knowing it was just about all he could do to keep you comforted while out on the island looking for crayfish.

“Don’t worry Ms. YN, there’s a shortcut back by land. You can take that, the rest of us’ll go look for Jules. He should have been here with that boat by now.” You were conflicted about leaving Arthur in the water but he gave you an encouraging push towards the path as Thomas pulled out the trap from the mud. He muttered something about what had broken the trap but it was too quiet to hear as you made your way back through the swamp.

Arthur walked with you as you wove your way through the trees in search of the building where Thomas lived, avoiding slippery spots and keeping you upright. The tightness in your chest never left and you knew it would stay until you were safely riding away back to camp.

“Help!”

Arthur paused. “You hear that?”

“Not Dutch or Thomas, must be Jules,” you thought out loud.

“Where you at son?”

“In the tree!” Arthur waded back into the water and you groaned, knowing your one sense of security left. He listened and moved around until he found the man hiding.

“What’re you doing up there?”

“There’s a monster. A monster! Massive, it nearly ate me.”

“Well,” Arthur looked around. “Where is it then?”

Jules threw a hand out. “Out there. A big gator, biggest I ever saw! And nasty!”

Arthur sighed. Jules pointed to where he had left the boat and it wasn’t too far from your spot. You paused before pushing it off the shore and climbing in, knowing you were dooming yourself one way or another. Dutch and Thomas emerged from the shadows and climbed into the skiff. The tension in your heart lessened a little knowing all of you were at least safe.

Thomas and Jules chatted as they rowed the boat back. You introduced yourself and Arthur, Dutch spoke for himself and he gave you a warm smile. Just as the boat made its way through a group a trees the skiff crashed into something in the water, knocking everyone sideways.

“I think we hit a tree stump. Go on and push us free, boy,” Thomas told Jules.

The man sat still with terror. “Me? This is a bad idea…” but he jumped in nonetheless. Jules unwound the rope at the front of the skiff and moved through the water, pulling as hard as he could. Thomas called out encouraging words through the fog and you gripped the wooden seat below you until your knuckles turned white. The thought of what could grab Jules haunted you.

As the boat moved free of the stump Jules hollered and quickly wound the rope up to climb back in. Half way to the skiff he froze, his eyes going big. Just as he let out a scream he was pulled underwater by something and the surface of the river went still.

“Jules!” Thomas yelled in disbelief. “I’m going in.”

“No! We can’t lose the boat.” Dutch looked between you. “Arthur’ll go.”

“I will?!”

“Quick!”

Arthur muttered under his breath and jumped into the river, ignoring your calls to come back. Jules’ voice echoed around the swamp as he broke the surface of the water and cried out in pain from whatever had attacked him.

“Dutch what are you doing!?” You nearly screamed. “Is losing Arthur really worth it to get your revenge?”

“Quite!” Dutch dismissed you. “He will be fine, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Your grip on the edge of the boat was so strong you were sure the wood would bend beneath your fingers. Arthur’s figure faded out of view and you called out to him but the only answers were Jules’ cries.

“It got my leg!”

“Arthur!” The desperation was obvious in your voice.

“I got you, Dutch I found him!”

“Come back, for the love of god get back in this boat!”

Poor Jules moaned as Arthur hoisted him over his shoulder and tried his best to run through the chest high water. He hushed the injured man so he could navigate his way through the swamp back to the boat but the trail of blood following them was ominous, and made your stomach ache and heart pound faster than it was before.

“Fire off a couple of warning shots to pretend you care!” Arthur yelled. Dutch pulled out his pistol and fired into the sky, scanning the waters for any lurking eyes.

Dutch pushed past you to reach out to Arthur. “Quick! Give me the boy.”

Thomas joined the other man and together they pulled Jules over the side of the boat. He was still moaning away but both of his legs were there, one badly injured. You ripped his shirt and tied it above Juels’ knee to help calm the bleeding, muttering over and over that he would be okay.

“Jesus, look at the size of that thing!” Thomas called while aiming for the water. You squinted and the largest alligator you had ever seen slithered through the smooth water, headed straight for the boat. Arthur climbed in next to you and helped apply pressure to the wounds.

“Guess all them stories were true. BIg and mad…that’s unusual. Normally the little ones is angry, big ones is lazy,” Thomas spoke as he rowed the boat towards his home.

Dutch clapped Arthur on his shoulder. “Well, guess he never outgrew his anger. Kinda reminds me of you Arthur.”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you squeal before Dutch,” Arthur joked.

The men talked and joked to lighten the mood as the boat pulled into shore where a group was waiting. At Thomas’ request they pulled Jules to safety and began to tend to his injury, and you earnestly looked after him with fear. While inside you were boiling with rage you tried to hide it as worry for the poor bitten poor.

After Dutch offered you his hand out of the boat you stood on the dock watching Arthur with hard eyes. The older man pulled out a cigar and ilt it, puffing the smoke slowly.

“Gentlemen, and lady,” Thomas tipped his hat to you. “I am at your service any time. Just meet me back here. I’ll be here.”

The older man asked you and Arthur to help get his boat tied up and safe while Dutch complained loudly that he would be heading straight back to camp. Something about Molly being a thorn in his side. You bit back a response and simply nodded at his departure.

As he left he called out one thing, “I’ll go get the boys, meet you back here tomorrow night Arthur!”

Your hands balled into fists at your sides as Dutch rode out of camp. As you turned to express your unhappiness to Arthur as colorful as you coud, Thomas spoke.

“Mr. Arthur. Old Bronte, he’s a bad man. Killed some good folks, hurt a lot of people.”

The sentence hit you harder than you thought, and suddenly your anger dissipated into the fog as you watched Thomas. Here was a man who simply wanted to live his life; but even he felt the damage that had spread from Bronte’s power and you knew unseating him would be the only way to let them be free.

“Arthur…”

You felt small. The swamp surged around you with a heartbeat and you wrapped your arms around yourself to hold onto something real. Why did you feel so out of control? Everything was slipping away. Dutch had his claws too deep into Arthur, and everyone at camp for that matter. How were you supposed to build a life if the ground you stood on was crumbling before you?

“YN? Darling? What’s going on in that head?” Arthur tried to get your attention.

“I...I feel like we’re losing, look at what’s going on around us. Dutch, the gang? Even you? Arthur I’m scared. What does this mean for us?”

A sigh. Closed eyes. Then a smile.

“Darling, there isn’t anything I wouldn't do for you. You know that, right? And I mean anything. You are the missing piece from my life that I’ve wanted for so long, you fought and proved to me exactly what you could be. I love you, YN, Now tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?”

It was on the tip of your tongue. Just tell him. Tell him who your father was and why your whole life was hanging on by a single thread from all sides. That every step was as precious as it was cautious but you still couldn't win.

“I’m so worried about it all. Dutch. Hosea. You. Arthur you changed my life, I wouldn't be here without you. You...you are my rock,” you could feel tears burn but you pushed them away. Arthur swept you into a hug instantly, holding you close and tight.

“We’ll get through it. Together. I know we will,” Arthur said with a kiss to your forehead. “Whatever it is.”

“I told Dutch that you would head back to camp. Avoid all this...mess.”

Thomas was discussing what Tahiti was like with Dutch; how kings were dealt with, not made, and what paradise looked like to the common man. Lenny, Bill, and John stood with the older man on the dock and readied themselves to float down the river.

“It’s not the mess I’m worried about,” you glanced over from your spot on top of Eclipse. “It’s...well we can discuss it later. Just promise me you’ll be safe. No going out of your way for Dutch.”

“Cross my heart,” Arthur mimicked the sentiment over his chest.

Part of him looked excited for the battle. The hunt lay ahead of him, all he had to do was follow the laws of nature. It was to be expected, you knew you couldn't fight it.

“Arthur! Are you coming or not, son?” Dutch called from the boat.

The men yelled to Arthur to come join them and you knew he was torn. With a fake smile and a kiss you sent him off, riding away from the sound as fast as you could. You were conflicted to hear them jeer and know they were celebrating the murder of a man who stood in their way, but it was easier to ignore if you weren’t in the vicinity. After a few moments the only sound you heard was Eclipse’s hooves clopping along the wooden pathway, and you fought back the urge to grab Arthur and even Lenny out of that boat. The boy was only twenty years old, he had no sense of right and wrong, only what he wanted to do or not. When you voiced your opinion Lenny had hesitated, but ultimately wanted to prove his worth and you couldn't blame him for that.

Nothing was going the way you thought it would. Your father was hot on your trail, Dutch still had his reach deep into Arthur’s heart and that troubled you to a point you didn’t want to acknowledge. Dutch was slowly slipping into another person from the man you once knew, and throughout this storm you knew your own image was starting to shift as well. Holding onto yourself was getting harder with each passing day as the decisions you made no longer resembled who you used to be.

So much had changed over the past year.

Your path took you through windy dirt roads across the swamp until you felt like you were going in circles. Bird and small animals called to one another all around you like a choir, raising their voices together to create something you couldn't quite understand and were about to give up hope when ahead you saw the smokestacks of the factories in Saint Denis. Relief flooded your heart and you rode through the last bit of swamp to make it out into the cooler air.

The bustle of the city always made you smile. Arthur hated it, thought civilization should be freedom in its purest form, but there was a simple elegance in your mind that people wanted to live together; to create and share and grow together.

Of course along with that were negatives, but for the time being you wanted to focus on what good you could hold.

“Try again, please, read…”

Across the street was a small, rundown church that was in much need of repair. Outside sat three students and two members of the church, one you recognized at Brother Dorkins from outside the pawn shop. After looping Eclipse’s reins to a post, you walked over to watch the scene. Brother Dorkins was joined by a colleague you didn’t know, a woman, who was leading the lesson.

“M...w...m…”

“Warm! You’ll get it! Keep trying.” The young man holding the book looked up at the Sister hopelessly, like he would never learn to read. She smiled. “It’s like swimming. It takes time, but then it is easy and the whole world opens up to you.”

“I hate this, it’s too hard!”

The Sister sighed. “Take your time.”

She was a bit older, and had a slight kick to her, but the Sister was clearly a person full of kindness and compassion. Even in the baking sun the group looked to her for guidance. Full black sleeves enveloped her arms as she pointed at spots in the book for the boys to try again.

“God dammit, what does this even mean?”

“Don’t you know you can’t swear on sacred ground? I thought that went beyond reading,” you piped up. Brother Dorkins jumped to his feet to greet you and you smiled warmly back. He ushered you over to sit next to him on the bench but you stayed standing, your legs needing the stretch after the long ride. The Sister looked up at you and pulled her eyebrows together and Brother Dorkins smiled and assured her you were fine.

“Don’t worry,” Sister Calderón continued with her lesson. “You know the letters, you know the sounds. You’re nearly there.”

“Ah, I ain’t got a use for stupid books.”

“I don’t have any use for stupid books,” Brother Dorkins corrected.

“If you ain’t why you making us do it?” The man asked, annoyed. You covered a laugh while the Brother tried to explain himself.

The Sister clicked her tongue and stood to greet you after chastising the boys. “Sister, this is the friend I told you about, Miss Moore.”

“Oh!” Her eyes lit up with recognition. “Ma’am, Brother Dorkins told me about the wonderful thing you did.”

“It was mostly my friend, Charles, but thank you.”

��Ah, shy to praise, like our Mr. Morgan.”

“You know Arthur?” You felt your eyebrows raise to your hairline. “Arthur Morgan? My fiance?”

Sister Calderón’s eyes lit up at your words but the joy was short lived. One of the boys on the porch shoved past her and took off on foot down the street, something stolen in his hands.

“Hey! Stop!”

“Brother Dorkins, I can run him down on my horse. Wait here!” You hollered over your shoulder. As fast as you could you mounted Eclipse and rode off.

“Don’t hurt him, please!” Sister Calderón called after you as Eclipse tore down the road. “Meet us at the cathedral!”

“Kids,” you muttered under your breath. The boy darted left and right, dodging carriages and people, making it hard to keep up on a horse. Eclipse’s hooves echoed off the brick walls as you ran through the crowds as fast as you could. He was quick; jumping carts and pushing into crowds. The market place was directly ahead and you knew your horse would never fit so you jumped down and ran after him yourself.

As you rounded a corner the street before you was empty. Not a sound gave away where he could be hiding and you held your breath to see if there were any signs. After only a moment, a grunt gave him away.

“Where’s my watch you thief?”

Rounding the corner you found him. Completely out of air, you ran to save the kid. An older man had him pinned against the wall by his shoulders.

“I don’t know nothing about no damn watch!”

“Last Saturday, I saw it with my own eyes -”

“Hey, leave the kid alone there. He’s with me,” you panted, leaning against the wall.

“Leave him alone? Not a chance! He’s a thief, he is,” the man argued.

You straightened up and did your best to make yourself as big as possible. “I can hit a lot harder than it looks like, and I’ll make all kinds of trouble.”

“Fine,” the man shoved the kid one last time. “It’s not worth it with the law coming down on me.”

As he walked down the road you held the gaze of the young boy. His eyes looked left and right trying his best to avoid you.

“What did you take then?”

It was gentle, but firm. The knowing voice of a woman. After a deep sigh the boy pulled a crucifix out of his pocket and handed it over slowly.

“Just thought...it would get me something nice.”

The sad eyes did you in. You forked over a few dollars and held the boy’s hand as he took it. “This is for food. And shelter. This town won’t give you much but that doesn’t mean you’re not worth it. Sometimes fighting is the only way to get by.”

Eclipse came as you whistled and watched the boy run off. You shook your head, hoping his future was brighter than his present.

“Hey, you want some company mister?”

The sultry voice came from the shadow of the corner. Never before had someone mistaken you for a man in your jeans and vest but you could see how your figure was hidden in the folds of fabric. You walked over to find the voice mostly out of curiosity.

“Not too sure you want my company,” you laughed.

The woman looked up at you shocked, pushing her gown over her knee in embarrassment. Something about her was familiar, under that makeup, you knew her face…

“Mrs. Downes?”

The words spit out of you, more of a verbalized realization than a question. She looked shocked, moving away from the wall with eyes darting for an escape. Full of panic and something you couldn't quite place she looked like a cornered animal.

“You...you’re that, that bitch that came to beat my husband!”

“We didn’t beat him, I would never -”

“Stay away from me!” She pushed past you and ran into the street. “He’s gone because of you! Help! This woman is bothering me, officer please!”

You took that as your cue to leave and nearly jumped into the saddle. Eclipse rode by as Mrs. Downes spat at her hooves, calling one last thing that rang in your ears.

“Someday soon you’ll know my pain!”

It was a strange thing to hear coming from a woman who appeared to be living on the streets. Maybe she just meant the pain of falling, of losing everything you held dear living in a place like Valentine. It was a charming town, before the Van der Linde gang shot it up in that fight. But you did know pain, and what it was like to leave the place you once called home. You pulled your arms a little tighter around yourself to fight off the eerie feeling that settled over you.

You rode through the streets to try and find the cathedral Sister Calderón had mentioned. It was a big city, larger now that you had no center, and it took nearly an hour to cross it and arrive at the religious building. You were shocked you hadn’t seen it before, in the midday sun it was truly beautiful. Steep, staggering towers stretched up nearly four stories and showed off stained glass scenes tinted by the layer of dust. Outside was a small garden for walking and reflection, filled with flowers of all colors.

Sister Calderón stood near the steps with a man in long balck robes nodding along as she spoke. “Everyday it’s a new challenge, Father. When I was younger, those challenges used to frustrate me.”

You paused before approaching but Sister Calderón greeted you warmly.

“I got your cross Sister. And, before you ask, the boy is fine. Maybe a little dirty from running, but generally what you would call healthy.”

“Brother Dorkins was right, you are the most wonderful woman.” You beamed at the compliment you didn’t feel like you earned. “I know it’s silly, but my mother gave me this cross when I was just a novice shortly before she passed.”

“That doesn’t sound silly, Sister,” you nodded as the Father took his leave, “Sometimes things hold weight we didn’t know they could bear.”

“So profound!” Sister Calderón praised. She started walking through the garden and you followed next to her. “I have met your man Arthur Morgan a few times, and I must say you two go well together. He is also one for knowing weight even when it isn’t there.”

“He’s something else, isn’t he?” You hesitated before speaking, never really one for religion but continued on anyway. “I’m worried about him, Sister. I think...he may be headed down a bad path and I don’t know how to help him.”

“Ah, the path is hard to fight, isn’t it?” She watched you thoughtfully. “It is sometimes one we walk alone, even when others stand there with us. I know him to be a good man, though he may not see it himself, he often deflects the words he hears from me. Maybe he will listen to you, I see the love when you worry about him.”

“I do love him, he changed my life in so many ways and I am very lucky to know him. But you’re right, worrying about someone like that won’t help.”

Sister Calderón stopped you before a beautiful bloom and took it gently into her hands. “See, the flower knows its way. Sometimes it gets stuck and has to change but it always goes up to the sun. Your Arthur is making his way, as are you, but maybe a curve has been made that makes it seem like your progress is lost. But fear not, my child, it is not.”

The words resonated with you more than you cared to show, even if you the Sister saw right through you. Tears pooled at the edges of your eyes and you wiped them away hastily, trying to take in the beauty of the setting sun around the cathedral.

“Does Arthur come here often?”

Sister Calderón thought. “Maybe once a week. Rides by and asks if there’s anything he can do. He helps patch the roof, feed the children, things like that. Then rides off as if he didn’t try to save their lives.”

You had no idea. All the hours he spent looking out for others only made you love him more.

“Well, my dear, it is getting late so I should head home. Tell Arthur I send my best,” the Sister gave you a chaste hug and watched you leave, happy to have finally met you.

You took your time on the ride back. It was that beautiful color of gold out where everything was masked in a stunning effect that made even the most sinister alligator look like a friendly guide. People passed by you on the street, but the further you rode away from town the less you saw. Night settled down and the fireflies emerged to light the way.

“Who’s there!”

“Just me, Javier.” You called out.

Eclipse knew her spot in line among the other horses and for a sad moment you looked around for Kieran. From the fire Sean’s laughter rang out at something Karen whispered to him and you smiled, remembering to be happy with what was left.

At the sound of your voice Arthur emerged from Shady Belle, searching for you. He looked bad. Haunted. His clothes were covered in a mixture of dirt and blood and your stomach dropped at the thought of it being his. The way his hand gripped the railing told you something was wrong and you ran the last few steps to hold his arm.

“Arthur are you okay?”

The look he gave you spoke volumes and the obvious answer was no. But it didn’t seem to be his blood, so you had to assume something else had affected him so badly.

“Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?”

As an answer he shook his head but took your hand in his firmly, moving back through the house and out to the small gazebo along the water’s edge. He sat across from you, running his hands over his face as he thought.

“I knew...well, thought I did. I knew he was talking about murder, but I didn’t think..”

“Dutch?” Arthur nodded. “Is Bronte…?”

“Dead as a doornail. I don’t envy him.”

You rubbed your thumb along Arthur’s palm to try and calm him. “Walk me through what happened after I left you at the dock.”

“Well, we rode up on the boat as planned and snuck into the yard. Dutch had us take out all the guards, taunting Bronte to try and lure him out. There were lots of them. In the yard, in the house. No shortage of men his money could buy.”

Arthur paused and you continued squeezing his hand, letting him know you were listening.

“That sounds pretty normal so far. Bloody, but normal,” you prompted.

“Yeah. Guess so.” He sighed. “We found him hiding up in the bedroom trying to bribe John and I. Lenny and Bill got stuck fighting the law who showed up and took us by surprise. And by some act of god we made it back to Thomas all alive and in one piece after holding off all of them that came. Dutch...he rowed us out to the middle of the swamps and him and Bronte got at it. Talking about being a man and owning your life. I think that’s when Dutch snapped. He grabbed Bronte by his shirt and held his head underwater until he stopped moving. Screaming about how Bronte couldn't call the Pinkerton’s or his lawmen or his guards no more. What power really meant. Then he uh, pushed the body over as a gator came up.”

You gasped at the image of Dutch feeding a man to an alligator. It wasn’t hard to imagine; the look of rage on his face, the foam at the corners of his mouth, the way his eyes lit up knowing he had the power to take another life.

“John nearly had to pull him off, and Dutch went off about weakness and how it was us or Bronte. I think John is starting to question things too, like you and me. But I don’t know, I’ve never seen Dutch snap like that.”

“Arthur, I’m so sorry,” was all you could manage. His hand had squeezed back and clenched around yours tightly.

“I stayed back to make sure no one followed us, but the whole time I kept thinking about how short life really is. Staring into that water made me realize how...we gotta stop taking things for granted, tomorrow ain’t guaranteed in this life. And I used to be okay with that. I would get up and take the day as it was, doing my best to fight alongside those I had to care for. That’s how Dutch raised me and John. But then I met you. And something changed. I started planning ahead and knowing that leaving you would be unbearable. I may not be a good man, but you sure help me see that I could be. And he’s someone who always knows his place next to you.”

“Arthur,” you spoke slowly. Your heart picked up in your chest and your nerves felt scattered. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I don’t want to wait around anymore for us to find the right time. I want to make the right time. YN, I want you to be my wife. Today. What do you think about throwing a wedding right now?”

#price to be paid #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #literally never thought I would get this far #arthur morgan #female reader

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