#sawyer husky talking voice is really nice to hear

[askkaimei]

((I watched it twice last night, it was great, thanks))

[flamehairedwritings]

The Fire In Your Eyes: Chapter Four

Characters: Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ ONLY for violence, gore, character deaths, animal deaths, parent deaths, swearing, grief, sexual themes and sex.

Summary: Saved by Arthur Morgan when her town is attacked, a young woman’s past comes back to haunt her when she has no choice but to join the Van der Linde Gang.

The Fire In Your Eyes Masterlist

Please don’t copy, steal or re-post my work; credit does not count.

The Underrated Joys of Escapism

Conversation had flowed more easily after that. The girls informed her of the lack of feminine products at the general store in the nearby town of Rhodes and she learned that she should indeed stay on Miss Grimshaw’s good side. In fact, they delighted in filling her in on exactly what everyone was like in the camp.

“... Do not give Bill a compliment, he’ll think you’re in love with him...”

“... Make Charles laugh and I’ll give you fifty dollars, I swear...”

“... You’ll probably be woken up every mornin’ by Abigail yellin’ at John, who probably deserves it...”

“... Oh, Lenny’s just so sweet, I just don’t quite know what I want to do with him—” 

“Karen...”

“... Arthur’s a little gruff, but a sweetheart, really.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s a real sweetheart,” Mary-Beth enthused, her smile widening. “I mean, he rescued you, didn’t he? That’s how sweet he is.”

“Yes, that was very kind of him,” Ada agreed, keeping her smile easy.

Please don’t ask me, please don’t—

“So, how’d he do it, what happened?”

Oh, Christ.

She’d hoped the personal questions would have waited at least another day or so, but, with her wide smile and big eyes, Mary-Beth was obviously sweet on Arthur, and eager to hear of his heroic deeds, a fact further proven by Karen and Tilly sharing a glance, their lips twitching.

Noted.

“Uh, he found me in a cabin. I’d escaped from my home and hidden in there. We were then pinned down by gunfire but he threw dynamite out of the window to give us a chance to escape.”

“I love a man who just happens to carry ‘round dynamite,” Karen drawled.

“Oh, is that so, darlin’?”

Ada’s head whipped up at the Irish accent, her back stiffening.

A man with shoulder-length ginger hair grinned at them, his hands in his pockets.

“Well, I guess I better start carryin’ ‘round some dynamite in me pocket. Though, that could be dangerous.”

“What would it blow off, exactly,” Karen retorted as she lifted a bottle of whisky to her lips, an eyebrow arched.

“Your favourite past-time, darlin’.”

The man laughed as she rolled her eyes and winked at her before his blue eyes settled on Ada’s own.

“Hello, we haven’t been introduced.”

“Sean, this is Annie Sawyer. Arthur rescued her from Strawberry,” Mary-Beth beamed.

“Is that right? The grumpy bastard does have a heart, then,” Sean chuckled, holding his hand out to her. “It’s nice to meet you, sweetheart.”

“You, too,” Ada smiled warmly as she accepted his hand, though her heart pounded in her chest.

What in the hell is an Irish man doing here? A former O’Driscoll? Oh, calm down, not every Irish man is an O’Driscoll.

With a flourish, Sean took her hand in a gentle grip and bent at the waist, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand.

“Jesus...” Karen muttered beside her as Ada made her smile widen a little more. “Trust me, darlin’, he’s no gentleman.”

“Oh, love, I’ll be a gentleman if you want me t’ be.” Releasing Ada’s hand, his eyes had already darted to Karen. “You know I can be.”

“Mmh, I’m sure I don’t.” Karen pressed her lips together.

“We’ll see, won’t we.” Winking at her again, his attention then returned to Ada, her eyes still fixed on him. “Welcome to the camp, darlin’. Let us know if you need anythin’. And may I say, what lovely fire-y hair you have, almost as lovely as mine.”

“Oh, thank you.” She involuntarily tucked a few curls behind her ear, her stomach twisting slightly.

“Well, ladies, I shall leave ye to ye’re evenin’.” 

Bowing low, the girls snorted as he backed away before straightening and turning on his heel, whistling a tune to himself.

“Well, that’s Sean,” Karen muttered, shaking her head as she took a sip of whisky. “The bane of my life.”

“Ain’t they perfect for each other,” Tilly stage-whispered to Ada, making Karen shoot a glare at her as Mary-Beth broke into laughter again.

Twenty four hours earlier, she’d been in the same position. With a couple of changes.

Lying on her back on a blanket instead of a bed, she was staring at cloth instead of a canopy.

What had remained the same, though, was that she was unable to sleep.

Rather relieved at feeling tired, she had excused herself shortly after Sean had introduced himself and found Miss Grimshaw by the girl’s wagon to politely ask her where she may be able to sleep. The older woman had gestured behind her, whereupon Ada realised she would be sharing a patch of barely covered ground with some of the other girls.

She’d done as directed, lying on her side beside Tilly who was also settling down. Karen and Mary-Beth had lain on the blanket shortly after, and they’d both soon fallen asleep.

Ada hadn’t even closed her eyes. The day had seemed endless, as if fate had been forcing her to stay locked forever in the worst day of her life. She should have fallen asleep instantaneously, gratefully fallen into an unconscious slumber from grief and exhaustion. The sounds of trees and insects and people were all too unsettling, though, too unfamiliar. The camp was quiet, a few members of the group having a murmured conversation a little way off around the fire they’d eaten at. She didn’t know who the voices belonged to, not having been introduced to anyone else.

Her mind wouldn’t quieten, either. It kept chanting at her to make a plan, but how could she when she had no control or choice?

It needled at her, making her spine prickle so she’d have to turn every few minutes. She might have dozed here and there, but it was very light, bodies and blood filling her mind, every sound making her eyes snap open, and when the sun had started to rise she’d given up completely and found herself once more sat on the fallen tree, staring out at the lake.

Maybe at noon I’ll collapse and finally get some rest. That would be nice.

“You okay?”

Good God, there are people everywhere.

Looking up, a woman she hadn’t seen before approached from down the bank, a tin cup in her hand. Her blonde hair, darker than Karen’s, was braided and twisted over her shoulder, and she had a bright mustard blouse on, tucked into brown trousers.

Ada smiled instantly, inhaling a long breath as she straightened her back. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you. Just woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep.”

The woman hummed as she sipped from the cup, and took a seat beside Ada.

“I’m Sadie.”

“Annie.”

Sadie nodded, holding the cup between both hands. “I’m sure people have been offering their condolences, and I would but... Well, I know it don’t help that much.”

Sadie gave a faint smile as Ada looked at her, not having caught her surprise in time for it not to show.

 “I lost my husband recently. The O’Driscolls killed him. These guys rescued me, too. I was a mess. I didn’t want to talk to anybody. Didn’t feel much like livin’ for a little while, actually, but... you just have to keep goin’, don’t you. Find somethin’ worth livin’ for.”

A corner of Ada’s mouth lifted. “I guess that’s why I’ve not been able to sleep.”

“You just need time. You’ll figure it out.” Sadie gently nudged her with her elbow. “You seem to be doing okay though, it’s good that you’re talkin’ to people, I saw you chattin’ with the girls.”

She smiled lightly. “Well, it’s a nice distraction.”

“Yeah, I can understand that. You’ll be fine, though. From what Arthur said, it sounds like you can really handle yourself with a gun.”

Ada exhaled a laugh as her eyebrows rose. “Well, I’m no Black Belle but, yeah, I’m not too bad.”

Sadie chuckled, a husky, rich sound, and arched an eyebrow. “Maybe we can do some shootin’ together sometime. Show these boys how it’s done.”

“I’d like that.” 

And Ada found that she meant it. The other women were lovely and kind to her, of course, but it was a welcome relief to be able to talk candidly with someone who understood.

“All right, then, I look forward to it.” Sadie tapped a nail against her cup and stood, rolling her shoulders back. “Hey, maybe we can do some practise shootin’ on some O’Driscolls.”

 Ada watched her head up towards the camp, and the manners her mother had tried to drum into her made her feel a twinge of guilt at not offering her condolences about Sadie’s husband but, as the other woman had said, how would it help? No, it was enough that they understood one another.

Shared trauma was a strangely comforting occurrence.

Sadie passed Miss Grimshaw and they nodded at each other, that tight, sugar sweet smile on Susan’s lips. 

“Mornin’, Mrs Adler.”

“Good morning, Susan.” Sadie’s overly bright tone made Ada’s lips twitch; she was very much warming to her.

She swiftly softened her expression, however, when Miss Grimshaw caught sight of her, her smile widening as she approached.

“There you are. Oh, honey, you look beat!”

Wonderful. Thank you, Susan.

“Did you get any sleep at all?”

Ada stood, unsure as to whether the older woman’s concern was genuine or she was worried about her new worker already being down for the count, and shrugged lightly.

“Oh, yes, I got a couple of hours. It’s just, I’m getting used to it, I suppose, being here.”

Susan gave what she probably thought was a sympathetic expression. “Yes, new places can be a little unsettlin’ at first. But we move a lot so you’ll have to get used to it.”

Ada’s chest tightened. Of course they’d have to move a lot, they were on the run from the law, she knew that, but there it was, the suppressed panic that she had no choice, that the routine would change before she could adapt.

“Oh, I’m sure I will. I’m sure I’ll sleep well tonight, too.”

“Mhm. Well, follow me, honey,” Susan gestured for her to follow with her hand, “We got piles of washin’ to do to keep you occupied in the meantime. And I found you some boots!”

Wonderful.

Days passed without incident, and Ada settled in, much to her relief, more easily than she had anticipated, swiftly establishing a routine. She would wake early, talk with Sadie or Abigail over breakfast as they were usually awake at sunrise, too, then carry out whatever tasks Miss Grimshaw deemed important for that day. She heard snatches of information, or Karen just told her outright; currently there was something going on in the local town with two large families that despised each other. 

“We’re playin’ ‘em both like a fiddle,” Karen had grinned.

Her intuition to not tell them her real name was correct, then.

She kept mainly to talking to the group of women, the men seemingly either always out on ‘business’ as they called it or sat around the camp halfheartedly carrying out various tasks, but she was gradually introduced to everyone.

Ada swiftly discovered Sean had never had any association with the O’Driscolls; there was completely and utterly no way he could have. Colm would never allow a man who talked as much as he did to be in the gang. He made her laugh, though, and gifted her, with enough flourish to make Karen sigh wearily, a small knife which she kept tucked into her belt. She apologised to Lenny the second evening she had been there and thanked him for being so generous. He’d shaken his head dismissively with a warm smile and said not to worry about it. She’d warmed to him completely as they’d eaten their stew, talking about inane things like the weather or what bread they liked best.

Charles, John, Bill, Pearson, Strauss and Javier had greeted her quietly and kept to themselves, the Reverend Swanson had stumbled past her the next morning, and Uncle had sat next to her at her third dinner and started singing loudly, to which everyone joined in. Hosea had talked with her that same evening, offering his condolences and asking her non-invasive questions about herself that she answered truthfully. After discovering she enjoyed reading and she missed her books, they had discussed their favourite novels, and then the next morning he gave her a book, a gesture so touching from the old con man that she had nearly wanted to embrace him.

As for Dutch and Arthur, she hadn’t spoken to either of them since they’d talked in Dutch’s tent and that suited her fine. Dutch kept to his tent, reading or talking with the men, and Arthur left early every morning and returned in the late evening.

She was, surprisingly yet mercifully, finding that she liked this band of outlaws and, with their seeming acceptance, felt she could breathe a little easier now. 

It took Micah, the man who’d watched her as he’d leaned against the tree, to bring her back to reality.

It was the morning of her fifth day of being in the camp and she was repairing an old blouse Susan had given her to have. She was using strips of material she’d found and was trying to do her best with what was turning into quite an unusual assortment of colours and patterns, needing a new blouse to wear as dust and sweat was starting to make wearing her current one unpleasant.

This damn heat. I miss rain.

A shadow suddenly fell across her.

Blinking, Ada glanced up.

“Hello, Mr Bell.”

He smiled at her, in that vaguely unnerving way, his eyes fixed on her, and nodded.

“Good morning, Miss Sawyer. What are you up to?”

“Oh, I’m just fixing a blouse. I’m in need of a new one.” She smiled politely as he sat beside her, suppressing her lack of delight.

He rested his elbows on his knees, leaning into her space to inspect her stitching. Her jaw moved slightly as she sat back to create some distance and he huffed out a laugh of amazement as he too sat back.

“That’s fine work, Miss Sawyer, you can barely notice the stitches. You’ve got a talent for it.”

“Thank you, Mr Bell.”

His smile, having lingered, widened now as he tilted his head “Please, call me Micah.”

Her polite smile lingered too, restrained. “All right, then.”

“I hope you’ll accept my apologies for not having talked with you sooner. I didn’t want to intrude upon you at such a difficult time.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Micah.”

Now please leave.

He fell silent, just looking at her, and she resented herself for doing so but she couldn’t stop her smile from widening as she searched for something to say. Just as she was about to open her mouth to ask him about his day, his hand went to her knee, and squeezed it so lightly.

“If you need anything, Miss Sawyer, anything at all, you can come and ask me.”

She stiffened, her mind going blank for a moment or two. She could feel the heaviness of his touch on her, of his eyes on her, and she couldn’t think what to do.

There was no doubt in what he was implying.

“Take your hand off me, Micah.”

Something flashed behind his eyes at her calm, low words. She held his gaze, her body still.

Then, he laughed, dropping his hand from her as he leaned back.

“Miss Sawyer, you are a surprise, ain’t you. Not quite the pretty little meek flower I was hoping for. That’s a shame.” He smiled. “More... entertainin’, though.”

He stood then, much to her masked relief, but just as she thought he was going to turn away, he looked to her again, his tongue running along his teeth.

“You know, Arthur and I were in your pretty little town not too long ago. Gave you all quite the show. I’m very grateful you didn’t get in the middle of it.”

He then nodded at her, and walked away, whistling to himself. She stared at his back, her lips parting as a held breath rushed out of her. She felt cold sweat sliding down her back, her hands frozen.

A man had been broken out of jail only a few weeks ago by another man and they shot all who’d been in their path. Skinny and Maddy had been killed in their cabin. She used to talk with them in the store and used to help Maddy braid her hair. Maddy got excited about the spring and liked to watch out for flowers every day, she was going—

“Good mornin’, sweetheart.”

She snapped back to attention, her eyes darting up to watch Sean walk towards her, that wide, lopsided grin on his face.

It fell slightly at her expression.

“You all righ’, darlin’?”

She nodded swiftly as she dropped the blouse to the floor, wiping her damp hands on her skirt. “Yes, sorry, you just startled me.”

“Uh-huh.” He eyed her, his gaze darting over to Micah who was seating himself at a table a little way off, unsheathing a knife from his belt. “You were talkin’ wi’ Micah just now, weren’t ye?”

“Yes, he was just introducing himself.” Clearing her throat, she smiled. “What business are you getting up to today?”

Ignoring her deviation, he sat beside her, an unusually serious expression taking over his features.

“You know,” he started, lowering his voice. “If he gives you any kind o’ trouble you let me know, all righ’?”

She arched an eyebrow, her smile widening as she ignored the faint tightening in her chest. “You? And what will you be able to do about it, Sean MacGuire?”

He laughed, the easy demeanour returning. “Oh, sweetheart, there’s a reason there’s a bounty on me head.”

“Didn’t you just happen to be there as the gang robbed places?”

“Oh, you wound me, ye really do. Here I was about to invite ye on a day out.” He shook his head mock-sadly as she perked up, her mouth opening a little wider.

“A day out?”

“Aye.” He side-eyed her, sighing faux-dejectedly. “I thought ye might like to come into town wi’ me, be reminded there’s an actual world out there.”

She almost laughed at the excitement that roused within her. Yes, she felt safe and confident with her routine, but... Lord, she was growing restless. There was only so far she could wander in this camp and this invitation felt like a strange sort of permission that she did indeed have some freedom. And freedom overrode any sort of need for security.

Why, though?

Her eyes then narrowed slightly as some of the excitement ebbed away.

“... What’s the catch?”

He held his hands up, his eyebrows raising. “No catch, darlin’. Just don’t want ya goin’ crazy... ‘nd maybe ye could get a new shirt instead of... whatever the hell that is you’re makin’.”

She pressed her lips together as she weighed the pros and cons, thought about everything that could go wrong, thought about if she could take Sean in a fight, if it came to it...

No, everything was surface level with Sean. This had to be genuine and thank God for it.

“I would be delighted to join you, Sean.”

He grinned, practically nearly jumping to his feet as he held a hand out to her. Undeterred as she batted his hand aside and stood unaided, he began to stride towards the scout camp up on a small hill to the north of the main camp. Following after him, she kept her gaze straight ahead as they passed Micah, though he was too focused in his game of five finger fillet to notice them.

Striding up the hill, he gestured at the small pack of horses, flinging his arm out.

“Pick yourself a horse.”

Her eyebrows rose as she looked to him. “Any one?”

“Yep. Any one without a saddle.”

She blew out a breath as she looked back to the horses, taking a few steps closer to them. They didn’t lift their heads from their grazing, used to people moving about amongst them. She studied each one in turn, assessing their build and matching them against each and every scenario she could think of in her head.

“Jesus, get a move on will ye or you’ll be sharin’ wi’ me.”

“Oh, Lord...”

Hearing him laugh behind her, Ada’s lips twitched and she moved towards a bay horse at the back of the group, it’s head lifting, hay hanging out of it’s mouth. It watched her, it’s ears twitching as it chewed.

“Hello,” she murmured, reaching a hand out slowly and settling it on it’s neck.

The horse turned it’s head a little closer towards her, sniffing at her. She held her hand out, allowing it to sniff. 

“He’s a real nice one.”

A dark haired man stood on the other side of the horse, smiling somewhat nervously at her as he stroked down the horse’s back. He spoke quickly but earnestly.

“He’s quiet and calm and ain’t too much trouble, I think you’ll like—”

“Jesus Christ, Kieran, what are ye doin’ lurkin’ amongst the horses? You been shaggin’ ‘em again?”

“I don’t shag, sleep,” Kieran corrected himself swiftly, glancing at Ada, “with the horses, Sean, you know I don’t.”

“I don’t know what the hell you do, O’Driscoll, and I don’t dare ask. Toddle off and get her a bloody saddle, would ye.”

O’Driscoll?

Ada stared at Kieran as he muttered under his breath and moved between the horses, her hand frozen on the horse. He seemed to sense her sudden agitation, his ears twitching again as he shifted slightly, his head turning towards her once more.

Sean chuckled behind her as he approached, stroking his fingers down the horse’s forehead as his muzzle nudged against her forearm.

“That’s our camp freak, he...” He trailed off as he glanced at her, noting her tight features. “You all righ’, sweetheart?”

Get a hold of yourself.

“Yeah, fine.” She smiled as she stepped back from the horse as Kieran returned, watching him settle a faded blanket over his back before placing a saddle on it.

Sean watched her watch him, and she heard him curse under his breath.

“Oh, shit, I wasn’t thinkin’,” he murmured, standing beside her. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, he was with the O’Driscolls but he saved Arthur’s life and is with us now. We give him a hard time but he’s fine.”

She just nodded, watching as Kieran tightened the straps and adjusted the stirrups. Then, she turned to Sean and smiled widely.

“Shall we get out of here?”

He grinned, tugging on a curl of her hair as he passed her. “Aye, let’s get away from these degenerates.”

After securing a bridle to the head of the horse, Kieran handed the reins to her with the same nervous smile.

“Thank you,” she said automatically, meeting his gaze for a moment, before she turned away, murmuring gently to the horse, “Come on.”

Leading him away from the group, Ada followed after Sean, very much ready to be distracted.

“What’re ye gonna call him?” he asked as he mounted his buckskin horse, gathering the reins into his hands.

“I don’t know.” Also mounting, Ada patted the horse’s neck, allowing him a moment or two to get used to the weight of her. “I don’t know his character yet.”

“Well, we’ll see what he’s like in the kind of trouble we get up to.”

She arched an eyebrow. “I’m not looking for trouble today, Sean.”

He grinned as he urged his horse into a walk, Ada doing the same. “All righ’, all righ’, just some light tomfoolery, then. Who should we be?”

“What do you mean?”

“We don’t like to use our real names often in places for obvious reasons, so who shall we be?” He nodded at Lenny, the scout for the east entrance to the camp, as they passed him, who frowned slightly and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything Sean continued, raising his voice a little as he pressed his horse into a trot. “I say we could pass as brother and sister, twins even, with our gorgeous red hair ‘nd blue eyes.”

Ada laughed as her horse drew level with his, her brows raising. “You’ll have to copy my accent, then.”

Sean mock-gasped in horror. “How dare you suggest such a thing. We’re plainly Irish. Let’s hear you do the accent.”

“Sean.”

“Come on.”

“Sean—”

“Either that or you’re a mute and have to let me say what I like—”

“Oh, fer fuck’s sake, that’s the last thing we need.”

He threw his head back with a laugh as they emerged from the trees and turned onto a larger path. “Jesus Christ, a brilliant accent and a curse, are ye tryin’ to make me fall in love wi’ ye woman?”

“That would be incest, dear brother,” she grinned, maintaining the accent.

“Aye, but I think they like that down here.”

She laughed as he urged his horse into a canter, prompting her to do the same.

“How’d ye get so good at the accent anyway?”

She snorted. “Oh, you’ll just laugh.”

“Oh, now you have to tell me.”

Ada slid her gaze over to him, trying not to smile as he grinned.

“I used to practice accents I heard as a child, to entertain myself.”

Sean laughed, thoroughly delighted. “Ye didn’t have many friends, did ye.”

“What gave it away?”

It was only a short ride to the town of Rhodes and Sean talked the whole way, informing her of what little there was to do in the town, but she revelled in every moment. She felt she could breathe a little easier away from the eyes of the camp, and passing workers in a field, seeing other people, made the world feel wide and full of possibilities once more. Perhaps she could leave at some point. Perhaps she could think of a plan sometime soon. Perhaps. It was a short ride of freedom but she grasped it with both hands.

They slowed their horses as they passed a sign that read ‘Welcome to Rhodes’, and Sean led them towards a hitching post infront of the general store. Sliding down from the saddle, Ada pulled the reins over her horses’s head and tied them securely to the post before she surveyed the main street. It wasn’t long but there was the usual necessities, the general store, the Sheriff’s Office and jail, the gunsmith, an undertaker’s and a bank. People bustled about, carrying packages or buckets, wagons and horses came up and down the street and people sat and talked on porches, their voices carrying.

“Right.”

Sean’s cheerful voice pulled her from her observations and she turned to him, finding him also observing the street, a certain glint in his eye.

“Why don’ you go into the store and get yerself somethin’.”

Ada arched an eyebrow as she stroked her horses’s neck. “I don’t have any money, Sean, and I don’t fancy lookin’ at things I can’t afford.”

Shaking his head, Sean shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins, holding them out to her.

“Here, get yerself somethin’ nice.”

Staring down at his hand like he was pointing a gun to her, Ada noted they were all dollar coins. 

“Sean, I can’t accept that.”

He tutted and pushed his hand closer towards her. “Ah, shut up and buy yerself somethin’ pretty.” When she didn’t move, still staring, he tutted again and took her hand with his other one, carefully dropping the coins into her palm and making her fingers close over them. “I’ve got some business to attend to, when you’re done just sit out here, I won’t be long.” He started to turn away then paused, looking back at her and lowering his voice. “Oh, and steal somethin’.”

That pulled her out of her daze.

“Excuse me?”

He smiled, holding his hands out slightly. “Ye with thieves now, darlin’. Ye’ve got to fit in.”

She placed her free hand on her hip, arching an eyebrow. “I’m not going to steal something, Sean.”

“Why?”

“Why?” she scoffed. “Because it’s not right.”

“And?”

Oh, dear Lord.

“And the shopkeeper needs to make a living.”

He laughed. Actually laughed at her. “It’s nothin’ personal, Annie. We’ve all gotta make our way in this world.”

Christ...

She’d heard that before.

He took her long, exhaled breath as a, resigned, agreement, and patted her arm. “Good. Now, don’t forget, you’re as Irish as good whisky, dear sister. Enjoy!”

She watched him stride away in the direction of the gunsmith and exhaled another breath. The weight of the coins in her hand made her look down at it again and she uncurled her fingers a little to count the coins.

Twenty dollars. Twenty.

“Jesus...” she breathed, suddenly very much aware she was just holding twenty dollars in her hand. Turning to her horse, she rooted around in the saddlebag with her free hand, hoping to find something to hold the coins in. Feeling cloth brush against her fingers, she pulled out a bandanna and clumsily fashioned a make-shift purse, carefully pouring the coins into it and tying all the corners together.

Glancing around the street, Ada then made her way up the steps and into the store. A bell tinkled as she pushed the door open, prompting the shopkeeper to lift his head, his gaze sweeping over her. After assessing her, he smiled warmly, straightening his back.

“Good afternoon, miss.”

“Good afternoon, sir,” she answered, returning his smile as she approached the counter, her accent perfect.

“Is there anythin’ in particular you’re looking for?”

“Yes, I was wonderin’ if you had any blouses?”

“We got plenty of men’s blouses, miss, but no women’s, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” she waved her hand dismissively, widening her smile. “Anythin’ will do fer me, I’m not picky.”

“Just over in that corner there, then, ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

Moving to the shelves he’d indicated, she smiled to herself as she slid her fingers over a shirt, feeling the material.

If Mama could see me now.

─

Ada watched the people and horses passing by, her hands folded on her lap, covering her coin purse, her thumb idly pushing her ring around her finger, a parcel at her side. A light breeze blew and she inhaled a long breath. She kept her mind clear, just focusing on what was around her.

It was so wonderful, to be so calm. To be so free.

She could be anyone she wanted right now, an Irish woman waiting for her brother, a nameless woman enjoying the afternoon, a person waiting for their friend or lover. She understood Sean’s joy for it now. It was intoxicating to present whatever version of yourself you wanted to to the world, to have no expectations placed upon you.

“My darlin’ sister!”

Realising she’d closed her eyes, Ada opened them to find Sean beside his horse, beaming at her.

“Come on, Ma will be expectin’ us home.”

One corner of her mouth lifting higher than the other, she gathered the coin purse and parcel into her hands and moved down the steps to her horse. Lifting the flap of the saddlebag, she placed the coins inside along with the parcel and secured it tightly. Climbing up into the saddle, Sean already atop his horse, they turned their horses onto the road, heading out of the town.

“So, what’d ye steal?”

Her eyes widening at his jovial tone, she glanced over her shoulder. “Keep your voice down, you...”

“Curse at me again, go on.”

“No.”

“Fine. What did you get?”

Tossing her curls over her shoulder, she gestured at her saddlebag. “I bought a new blouse... and stole an apple.”

The widest grin she’d seen on him yet spread across his features as his head whipped to the side to look at her. “You bloody did it?! Ha! That’s my girl! It’s not gold or jewellery but it’s a start, I s’ppose. Where is it?”

She resisted the urge to be pleased with herself, keeping control of her smile. “I didn’t think it would make you this happy. I gave it to Faithful.”

“Who the bloody hell’s Faithful?”

She patted Faithful’s neck, her lips twitching.

“The bloody horse is Faithful? Oh, Jesus...” He shook his head as he sighed. “Right, and why Faithful?”

She, unsuccessfully, tried to hide a grin. “To remind me to be faithful to my morals.”

“Jesus Christ, right, let’s get you back to bloody camp so we can make a real thief of ye.”

Her laugh carried across the fields as they kicked their horses into a canter, dust rising in their wake.

As they reentered camp, Ada found she was still smiling. She felt lighter, her situation not so impossible now. It was incredible what less than an hour of normality could do. Well, near normality.

Dismounting at the nearest posts they came to, she pulled the reins over Faithful’s head, loosely wrapping them around the pole.

“Good boy, thank you,” she murmured as he snorted, tossing his head a little.

“You are most welcome.”

“Not you, Sean.”

“I don’t get a little thank you for takin’ ye out on the town?”

A smile pulling at her lips, she turned to him. “Thank you, Sean. I mean it.”

Grinning, he inclined his head. “You’re welcome, darlin’ Annie. Oh, and, hey, I got ye this...”

Reaching into his saddlebag, he pulled out some sort of crumpled emerald green material.

“The colour of our homeland, dear sister.”

Taking it from his offered hand, it unfurled to reveal a blouse.

Beaming, her mouth dropped open as her gaze darted up to him.

“Oh, Sean, it’s beautiful. Where did you get it? I didn’t see a tailor’s.”

He just looked at her, having the good grace to look the barest amount of sheepish.

“You stole it?!”

“Why anyone would leave a pretty thing like that out to dry I’ve no clue.”

“Sean.”

“What, it’s their fault!” He held his hands out innocently, all sheepishness gone as he grinned roguishly.

Exhaling a short breath, she fought hard to not imitate his infectious smile. “There’s no point in telling you to take it back is there?”

“Absolutely no point at all.”

“Lord...” Still keeping a grip on the blouse, Ada shook her head and reached into her saddlebag, retrieving the coin purse and parcel. “Fine, I’ll keep it.”

“There’s hope! We’ll make a proper thief of ye yet, sweetheart, you just wait.” He nudged his shoulder against hers as they moved around the horses.

“I didn’t steal it.”

“Whatever makes you sleep tonight, darlin’.”

“Well, here, this will.” She held the bandanna-wrapped coins out to him.

Sean made a dismissive sound as his brow furrowed. “Ah, no, Annie, you keep it. A little ‘welcome to camp’ gift from me.”

“The blouse can be that gift. And this certainly isn’t little.” She pushed it further towards him.

“Nah, that was a ‘welcome to town’ gift.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes as they came to a stop before the path. “Well, then, how about you look after it for me.”

Raising his eyebrows, he looked down at the purse, then back up at her. 

“I think I can do that,” he smiled, his fingers closing around the material, and in a flash he had it in his pocket.

“Yes, I thought you might...”

Ada trailed off as the sound of hooves suddenly thundered down from the north path. Both of them taking an automatic step back, they watched as Charles and Arthur stormed into camp, pulling their horses into an abrupt halt that had them skidding in the dirt slightly.

“Miss Grimshaw, Mr Pearson, your assistance, please!” Arthur called as he swiftly dismounted before striding around his horse to Charles’s.

Ada then saw the man sat behind Charles, his head lolling to one side. Arthur helped him down as Charles supported him from his position, gripping his shoulder, and as his head rolled back she saw the bruises and blood that covered him.

“One of yours?” she murmured to Sean, continuing to watch as Miss Grimshaw and Charles took over, helping the stranger over to the table nearby.

“Aye, one of ours,” he answered, sliding his hands into his pockets. “A rather interestin’ fellow.”

“I'm learning that’s not a compliment in this camp.”

Sean laughed as her lips twitched before he quickly shushed himself as Arthur looked over to them, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“Quiet now, lass, we’re about to be bored to death,” Sean whispered to her as Arthur approached.

“So, Lenny told me you two went out of camp.”

Ada couldn’t help but feel a slight sense of betrayal from the young man she’d started to rather warm to. Surely it wasn’t that bad, was it—

“Aye, I took the lovely lady out into town to—”

“You went into Rhodes?”

His abruptness seemed to catch Sean off guard, but he swiftly recovered.

“Aye, it’s not good for anyone to be cooped up in this mad place fer too long—”

“Do I have to remind you, MacGuire,” Arthur cut him off again as he stepped closer, prompting the other man to rise to his full height, “We’re wanted men involved in two mad as hell families. We got bounty hunters lookin’ for us up and down the God damn country who ain’t afraid to take us dead or alive. We can’t afford to just go dancin’ into town like God damn idiots.”

“All righ’, Morgan, it was jus’ a bit of fun—”

“Yeah, well, people have died over ‘a bit of fun’, haven’t they?”

Sean’s mouth opened then closed as he stared at him. Ada glanced between them, but before she could speak Sean exhaled a harsh laugh and turned on his heel, striding away. Pressing her lips together, she turned on Arthur, lifting her chin to look at him.

“I don’t know what you were referring to but I gather that was incredibly unfair of you.”

“Excuse me?” He gazed down at her with more of an air of exasperation than incredulity at her challenging him and that just incensed her more.

“He was just being kind, Mr Morgan, I needed new clothing and a breath—”

“You need anythin’ like that you speak to Miss Grimshaw.” He was already looking away from her, dismissing her as his eyes searched the camp.

Pressing her lips together, she adjusted her stance, standing directly in front of him and forcing him to look at her once more. “I don’t want to take any more charity—”

“It ain’t about that.” Now his full attention was on her as he wrestled to keep his voice low. “I don’t think you quite realise the danger we’re in—”

“If there is any danger I can handle myself and you know that—”

“As far as I know you can hold a gun and point it without shakin’. Beyond that I don’t know what you can do.”

His words stung but she clenched her jaw, begrudgingly accepting he was right, and that wouldn’t do.

"Perhaps I just need the opportunity.”

He arched an eyebrow as he exhaled a humourless laugh. “Is that what you want is it? An opportunity? Oh, what, you want to go out there seekin’ danger now? Think you’re invincible now you’re runnin’ with outlaws?”

God, she wanted to wipe that patronising look off his face.

“Need I remind you it was you who brought me here, Mr Morgan.” 

“Yeah, but I might need remindin’ of the reason why.”

That stung, too.

“Some horseshit about saving people who need saving, and you obviously thought I could handle myself here.”

She didn’t know whether it was her coarse language that stunned him into silence, the truth of her words or he was just holding his tongue but he didn’t answer her, his jaw moving. She didn’t look away as they stared at one another, neither wanting to back down.

He’s not agreeing.

Don’t do it─

“Give me your gun.”

“Excuse me?” Now he looked incredulous as he glanced down at her extended hand.

Arching an eyebrow, she raised her chin. “It appears I’m going to have to prove myself, Mr Morgan, to ease your apparent distress at my safety.”

Now that certainly stunned him.

“No, I ain’t givin’ you my gun.”

“Fine.” Looking to the side, she moved her hand in the same direction. “Lenny?”

Lenny, having been sat reading under a tree nearby and trying very hard to look like he wasn’t eavesdropping, raised his eyebrows in slight alarm.

“Yes, Miss Sawyer?”

“May I borrow your gun, please?”

“Uh...” He glanced at Arthur, though only briefly, as he stood, closing his book. His curiosity won out. “Sure.”

Stepping closer, he pulled his gun from its holster and held it out to her, the corners of his mouth lifting. “You’re not gonna kill anyone, are you, Annie?”

“I hope not.” Taking the gun, she lowered her arm and offered him the parcel and blouse, which he took swiftly, before she turned, glancing at Arthur as she strode away.

Lenny followed quickly behind her, not overly fond of the idea of being left with Arthur to be chastised. The older man exhaled a long breath as he watched them for a moment, before he, too, slowly followed after the woman.

Ada moved behind Arthur’s wagon and down to the bank, gripping the revolver in her hand and familiarising herself with the feel of it. It was a standard Cattleman with a black steel frame and an ebony grip.

Perfect.

Four empty bottles lay strewn across the sand, most likely from Reverend Swanson, and she came to a halt, wetting her lips.

“Lenny, please can you set those bottles on that rock?”

“Sure thing.”

Lenny apparently hadn’t been the only one listening in on their arguing as she could hear the rest of the camp forming an unsubtle audience a little way behind her, unashamedly gathering to watch as they murmured to each other.

She kept her eyes on Lenny, though, studying the angle at which he placed the bottles.

“All right, Annie, there you go.” He grinned at her as he ran past, joining the group.

Arthur stood towards the back of the audience, a little higher up on the bank, his mouth set in a thin line. He was hesitant to underestimate her due to her confidence, but then again he’d known many a confident person to make a fool of themselves. Would she really embarrass herself that way, though? Especially in front of everybody? Nah, Miss Sawyer didn’t seem that kind of fool. She was headstrong and damn stubborn, but not a fool.

He watched her closely as she stood straighter and raised her arm, drawing the hammer of the revolver back.

“Ten dollars says she does it,” Karen whispered to Tilly, who smiled.

“No deal ‘cause I think she’s gonna do it, too.”

Somewhere behind them, Micah snorted.

Ada exhaled a slow breath as she stared at the bottles, blocking out the sound of the group. Then, she squeezed the trigger.

She moved quickly.

In quick succession, the bottles blew apart one after the other, glass falling onto the sand.

“Holy shit!”

“God damn!”

The group spoke over each other as Ada lowered her arm and allowed herself a small moment of pride, a smile pulling at her lips.

“Someone get this girl a drink!”

Her smile widened as she finally turned to the group, finding most of the men drifting away back to their duties as the women grinned at her. 

“I don’t drink, Uncle.”

“Well, someone get one for me, then!”

Wanting any excuse to open the whisky, the women followed after Uncle, talking over one another. Sadie, who Ada hadn’t noticed before, stood further beyond them, down on the south side of the bank. She smiled proudly and nodded at Ada before turning away and heading along the shore, returning to her post.

“Wow, that was somethin’,” Lenny beamed as he stepped closer, holding his hand out.

“Oh, thank you. And thank you for letting me borrow it.” She returned his infectious smile as they swapped, she giving him the gun, he her blouse and parcel.

He shook his head as he holstered it. “Don’t mention it. I wouldn’t mind seein’ that again.”

She watched him as he wandered away, smiling to himself as Karen could be faintly heard trying to get a rousing song going.

Ada’s smile lingered, too, as she smoothed her skirt down, before she realised that just left... Arthur.

Her smile vanished as she looked to him.

He stood only a few feet away, his arms folded, his features expressionless.

“You enjoy bein’ a child, do you?”

She sighed, her teeth grazing over her lower lip as she raised her eyebrows. “No, I don’t.”

Dropping his arms, he stepped closer, gesturing behind her. “Well, you’ve proven you can hit unmovin’ targets. You ain’t proven you can hit somethin’ that’s shootin’ back at you.”

“No, I just haven’t proven that to you.”

“Well, you obviously wanted to prove somethin’ here.”

“Yes, that I’m skilled with a gun, Arthur, and that if I feel like taking a break from camp and going out for less than an hour then I can handle myself if something comes up. I understand your concern for this camp but I believe this time it was misplaced.”

“Oh, you’ve done more than target practice, have you? You killed, have you?”

“I killed an O’Driscoll back in Strawberry before you found me, I told you that.”

“And what has that done to your conscience?”

That made her pause, and he took full advantage of it, refusing to break their gaze.

“You been thinkin’ about it at all? Sure, he deserved it but it’s a hard thing to take a life. Could you do it again?”

She didn’t respond.

He shook his head. “Well, I hope we don’t get the opportunity to find out, Miss Sawyer. It could be your life that’s taken while you’re decidin’.”

A cold smile settled on her lips “What an unburdening that would be to your conscience, Mr Morgan.” 

He watched her as she walked away, his jaw set firmly.

He should’ve disagreed with that, protested vehemently, but he had the feeling only more angry words would have been exchanged. He knew he’d been hard on them, and, yeah, perhaps unfair to Sean, but the amount of bounty hunters that had taken Trelawney and how close they’d been to the camp had rattled him.

He could admit she was a good shot, could probably handle herself and was maybe as good as Sadie, but that didn’t mean she had to be put in a position to prove it. It wasn’t just her, too, they should all keep their heads down for a while, or, hell, even move on, maybe.

Arthur sighed heavily, pushing the brim of his hat up.

There’s never a quiet day.

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