Arthur Morgan's steely blue-green eyes narrowed at the crudely drawn face that stared back from the bounty poster. "Wilhelmina Thorne…"

The sheriff of Valentine wasted no time interrupting his thoughts. "Wanted for murder, if you can believe it. We hardly ever get bounties for womenfolk, but it seems like this one ain't from 'round here. Nobody seems to recognize her, and the fact that drawin' ain't too good doesn't help much neither. Bounty's thirty dollars, if you're interested."

Arthur gently tugged the poster down off the wall, turning back to the sheriff as he folded it and tucked it into his satchel. "Yeah, think I might take you up on that. Findin' that Allbright fella weren't too hard, and I could surely use the money…"

The sheriff nodded. "Murder happened last night, right here in town. Fella saw her tryin' to drag the body over to that pigpen out back a ways. Tryin' to…dispose of it, I reckon." The man looked at Arthur meaningfully.

The hard line of Arthur's mouth slid down into a grimace and he nodded once. He tipped his hat to the sheriff and made his way back out into the dusty main street of the little livestock town.

Thirty dollars weren't much, but every little bit would help the van der Linde gang. They had taken a series of hard blows after Dutch's botched ferry robbery in Blackwater, and had been on the run for just over two months now. About half of that time had been spent struggling north and east through the Grizzlies, a rugged and unforgiving track of mountains where spring blizzards had dogged them incessantly.

They had lost a few good folk along the way, not to mention all of the money they'd managed to steal back in Blackwater. His family seemed to be picking up the pieces now that they had settled into warmer climes in the Heartlands, and Dutch finally seemed to be coming back to himself, but they needed money to stay ahead of those bounty hunters and Pinkerton detectives. Always needed money.

Arthur ruminated on all this as he made his way around the back of the sheriff's office, spotting the farmhouse with the pigpen not 50 feet away. He carefully watched the ground as he ambled closer, taking into consideration some spots of blood that had dried into the arid dirt track. There were too many footprints back here to get a clear view of what happened, but he could see smoothed down places where the body had been dragged over from behind the saloon.

The most obvious direction she'd have fled would have been the road heading north out of town, but that weak assumption was all he had to go on. He figured he'd have to recruit Charles to help him with this one; the big man's tracking skills were far superior to his own.

THE NEXT MORNING

"So what you think, Charles?" Arthur drawled as his horse followed close behind the other man's. They were traveling north from Valentine after having asked around the saloon to glean any more information they could about this bounty.

Charles glanced back at Arthur, raising his focus from the road. "I think finding out what kind of horse she's riding was our luckiest break. And I think you were right about her fleeing north, taking the closest road when she was spotted."

Charles straightened up in the saddle, rolling his shoulders. "I think we should search around Cumberland Forest. It's only been a few days. If she knows she's wanted, she'll probably be more likely to try to lay low, wait for some of the heat to pass before moving on."

Arthur nodded. "Maybe hidin' in plain sight? Sheriff seems to think she ain't a local. Most folk around here probably wouldn't take much notice."

Charles hummed in agreement, leading them off the main road to take a trail that would lead them up the hillside and to a better vantage point. Cumberland Forest was by no means a dense thicket of tree cover, but its rolling hills meant there was still plenty of space for one lone woman to get lost in. If she was even still in the area.

After surveying the landscape with binoculars, the two men decided it would be wise to split up. Arthur headed north through the forest towards the Dakota River, while Charles took a path northeasterly in the direction of Fort Wallace.

Willa was having a good dream. She had finally caught Everett, snake that he was. No good, dirty, devil bastard that he was. She had a revolver cocked, the barrel nestled firmly in the spot right between his eyebrows. She was about to pull the trigger, when someone somewhere very close yelled, "Hey miss!"

Willa's eyes flew open, her body twisted, and all of a sudden there was nothing beneath her. She let out a strangled squawk as she landed hard on the ground, about 12 feet below the massive branch of the tree she had spent the previous night clinging to.

The woman just lay there for a minute, groaning and rolling weakly back and forth.

Charles smirked. He was sitting atop his horse Taima, the reins of a beautiful silver dapple pinto Missouri Fox Trotter held loosely in one hand. He had found the horse (matching the description of the one their bounty had been riding) some hundred feet away, grazing in the grass.

He cleared his throat and eased himself down off Taima, letting his free hand rest easily on the holster at his hip. "This your horse, miss?"

The woman squinted one eye open and rolled up slowly on an elbow, observing the dark skinned man that stood in front of her. "Why yes, that is my Tulip. Where'd you find her?"

"A few yards back, grazing." Charles thought he should choose his words carefully, but he had to ask. "Why were you up in that tree?"

The woman groaned and forced herself to her feet, dusting herself off rather fruitlessly. "She bucked me last night while we were riding. Wolves came up over the ridge and spooked her. I climbed that tree and…" She shrugged, digging a toe in the dirt. "Hoped she'd be safe on her own. I managed to shoot one of 'em, but I got about five whole bullets left to my name. Wolves stayed here and howled up at me most of the night, which was good for her I guess."

Charles nodded. "What's your name, miss?"

The woman bent down to retrieve a battered old cavalry hat that had fallen a few feet away. She cleared her throat. "Loretta…van Buren."

Again, Charles nodded slowly. He took a moment, then handed the reins of the horse over to 'Loretta'. "Can I bring you somewhere, Miss van Buren? I've got a friend in the area; if you'd like to ride with me to meet him, we can make sure you get to wherever it is you need to go. Back to Valentine?"

Her eyes narrowed and she shook her head. "That's kind of you, but I'm heading west. What's the closest town, Blackberry?"

Charles huffed out a small laugh and shook his head. "Strawberry. It's about a day's ride southwest of here. We'd be happy to see you on your way. My friend has a map, if you'd like to take a look at it?"

The woman considered his offer, then nodded a little apprehensively. "Alright. That would be…that would probably be wise." She took Tulip's reins from Charles and climbed up into the saddle, giving the horse's neck an affectionate rub.

Charles mounted Taima and turned her towards the road heading west.

As they rode, the woman would glance around furtively from time to time. Charles noticed these things; noticed her fidgeting, and the uncomfortable silence. "My name is Charles, by the way. My friend's name is Arthur."

'Loretta' nodded, before extending a hand to point out a mounted figure on the road ahead of them. "Is that your friend?"

Charles gave her an affirmative, edging Taima into a trot to meet up with the man. When they pulled their horses up next to each other, Arthur gave a low whistle. "Who's your new friend, Charles?"

Charles dismounted, leading Taima off to the side of the road and encouraging 'Loretta' to do the same. "Met her up the road a ways. She's trying to get to Strawberry. Told her you had a map she could use to get her bearings before we see her off safely." Charles gave Arthur a meaningful stare.

Arthur huffed out a small laugh and nodded his head, dismounting and following them off the road. He pulled his riding gloves off and dug around in his horse's saddlebag for the map he kept there. The woman edged closer to him, crossing her arms across her chest; she was obviously eager to take a look at the map and be on her way.

Arthur glanced over, hands still working inside the saddlebag. "Your friend got a name, Charles?"

Before the woman could give a name herself, Charles was already answering. "This is Miss Wilhelmina Thorne. Wilhelmina, this is my good friend Arthur Morgan."

"Nice to make your acquaintance, Mr. Mor…oh." A pause. "Shit!"

Things happened very fast after that. Arthur whipped a revolver out of the saddlebag instead of a map, and when Willa tried to make a break for her horse, Charles' large frame was planted firmly in the way. He grabbed her and in one swift motion, pinned her arms behind her back and kicked her to her knees in the dirt.

Arthur strode over with his revolver pointed squarely at her, squatting down to check underneath the black duster she wore for any weapons. He pulled a pistol off her hip and tossed it away into the dirt, then did the same with a good-sized hunting knife.

She cursed and struggled. "Let me go, you bastards! I'm innocent! I swear!"

Arthur chuckled in that deep, slightly lazy way he had. "I'm sure you are, miss." His hands worked surely with a rope he had produced to bind her hands and feet, and before she knew it she was being slung over the man's shoulder as easily as a sack of grain.

"Bring the weapons and the horse, Charles. We'll take 'em back to camp. Probably fetch a good price for the mare later on."

"No! Not Tulip, goddamn you!" Wilhelmina writhed as Arthur slung her over the back of his own horse. Her hat got flipped back behind her head and she sputtered as the chin strap choked her for a second before loosening. "I swear I did not kill that man! I was… I was trying to help a saloon girl!"

Arthur shook his head as he mounted the Morgan he'd just bought about a week ago. "Sure you were! Goddamn, tryin' to feed the body to the pigs though…"

"That was her idea!" Wilhelmina shrieked from behind him, continuing to struggle against the ropes that bound her. Arthur spurred his horse into a trot, with Charles leading the Missouri Fox Trotter along behind them.

As the horses were coming around a bend pressed into a hillside, a shot rang out from behind the tall rock face in front of them. Arthur barely had time to lift a hand to the top of his head to feel that his hat had been shot clean off before the Morgan whinnied in fear and reared, tipping Wilhelmina right off and nearly throwing him as well.

"Shit! Charles, get back!" He pulled the horse into a tight turn and galloped back around, trying to gain some distance before leaping down to the ground and giving the horse's rump a stiff slap to set it running.

An Irish voice shouted from where the shot had come. "Dutch's dogs! This is O'Driscoll territory, ya fookin' dogs! Get 'em, boys!"

Suddenly, men were surrounding them from the trees and behind the rocks and from above them on the hill. Arthur cursed to himself and grabbed the rifle he had slung over his shoulder, ducking behind a boulder. He could hear the Thorne woman shrieking on the ground a few yards away. He cursed again and glanced back to check on Charles.

Charles - blessed man that he was - was already wielding the sawed off shotgun he always carried, blasting off shells at the O'Driscolls who had appeared above them. One of them gave a yell and tumbled down, landing with a sickening thud next to Miss Thorne. This caused her shrieking to increase in tenor and ferocity.

"Goddamnit!" Arthur dropped the rifle and flourished his revolver, dashing out from behind the boulder. He put down a few of the boys that were coming up on horseback in front of them and managed to grab the screaming woman by one ankle, dragging her back behind the boulder as he continued to fire. He could feel bullets whizzing by on either side as he dropped back into cover behind the rock.

"Cut me loose! For Christ's sake, cut me loose goddamn you! I'll help you fight 'em off! Please!"

His mouth etched into a mighty frown, he only spared her a brief glare before holstering the revolver and taking the rifle back up. He inched up over the top of the rock to take aim at a few more of their assailants, dropping three in quick succession but there seemed to be a stream of reinforcements. Apparently Colm O'Driscoll was not short on men these days.

Behind them, Charles' shotgun could be heard firing more shots in as quick a succession as a shotgun could manage, but a pause signified his changing positions. Before Arthur knew what was happening, Charles was crouched beside them, knife in one hand, haphazardly sawing at the woman's bindings. He paused twice to shoot at two more O'Driscolls rounding the corner around the rock face, but two shells were all the shotgun would hold at a time. Before he could reload, he cut Wilhelmina's hands and feet free, grabbed the revolver out of Arthur's holster and slammed it into one of her palms.

"Charles!?" Arthur yelled accusingly, but he had to focus on the fight. He couldn't stop shooting to chide the man or even to make sure the girl wasn't going to shoot them both in the back and run.

But Wilhelmina was up on one knee in a heartbeat, taking careful aim at the tree line. She picked off six of the O'Driscolls before the revolver was out of bullets, each shot hitting its mark. With the woman's help, Charles and Arthur were able to make quick work of the rest of their assailants.

When the shooting finally stopped, all three of them collectively sagged and took a deep breath. Remarkably, all of them were unharmed. Arthur sank back against the boulder, letting the rifle rest in his lap. Wilhelmina got to her feet, looked awkwardly at the revolver in her hand for a moment and then held it out to him, grip first. She rather hoped it would impress the man as a peace offering.

Arthur raised his eyes to her, wearily lifting one hand to rub the week's worth of stubbly beard on his face. He reached out and took the revolver with the other. He gave her a small nod, slipping it back into the holster on his hip.

Charles' voice broke whatever odd moment they were having. "You alright? I'm going to try to round up the horses…"

Arthur nodded, slinging the rifle back over his shoulder as he got to his feet. "Good idea." He stepped around the boulder, mumbling. "Find my damn hat…" He zeroed in on the old black hat with the leather cord tied around the brim, tipped at an unruly angle in the dirt a few yards away.

Wilhelmina watched pensively as he stooped to pick it up and dust it off before placing it back on his head.

"Friends of yours?" she finally managed.

Arthur huffed as he walked back to her. "Oh yes. Old friends." He bent down and grabbed the ropes that Charles had cut off her wrists and ankles. "Now c'mon, let's do this the easy way, please…"

Wilhelmina's jaw dropped and she backed away, putting her hands up. "I was tellin' you the truth! I didn't kill that man! And I just saved your life, you ungrateful fool!"

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Well a fool I may be, but I am just about one hundred percent certain we could'a handled that on our own! 'Bout how I see it, is he saved your life by cuttin' you free. Only for a few minutes longer though, and barrin' you made the right choice 'bout what came after…"

Wilhelmina rolled her eyes then pointed a finger at his face. She had already started speaking again before she realized it probably was not a good idea to point a finger in this man's face. "I. Am. Tellin'. You. The. Truth. I was followin' that man, and I followed him into Valentine, and up to one of the rooms in the saloon-" Her mouth quirked into a grimace. "-To confront him. When I opened the door, this little slip of a thing in nothing but her pantaloons was holding a bloody knife in her hand and he was dead on the bed, not even cold yet. She started beggin' me to help her, and I…I felt bad. She said he was beatin' her…and before I knew it…" She trailed off, her renewed frustration ebbing as quickly as it had arrived.

"Before you knew it you got caught tryin' to feed him to the hogs?"

She huffed an affirmative breath from her nose and nodded.

Arthur let a sigh escape, crossing his arms and taking his first good look at Miss Wilhelmina Thorne. Her thick dark hair was halfway pulled out of a messy bun at the back of her head. Rather thick, dark eyebrows furrowed over her clear brown eyes. She had a smattering of freckles across her face and a scar at the soft corner where her lips met. She couldn't have been 30 yet, and by her accent he could tell she was not from anywhere near New Hanover.

She was wearing black ranch pants tucked into a pair of well-worn boots. A dark green flannel was tucked into the pants, a few buttons undone at the collar. A black bandana was tied around her neck and the black duster sat over it all. She was clearly dressed for the road.

Arthur cleared his throat and reached into his satchel for a packet of cigarettes, carefully tapping one out. He was about to put it away, but then for some reason he found himself holding the pack out towards her instead.

Wilhelmina chewed her lip for a moment before plucking out one of the cigarettes and mumbling a thank you. Arthur struck a match off his boot and lit hers before he lit his own.

She took a deep drag, closing her eyes for a few moments. "So…you still plannin' on takin' me in, mister?"

Arthur looked up to meet her gaze and huffed out another sigh. "Shit. You did help us out with those O'Driscolls…but how'm I supposed to believe you ain't a killer after what I just seen?"

"Just cause I didn't kill that man don't mean I haven't had practice shootin'. Look, obviously you two boys ain't so innocent yourselves. Whatever you're tangled up in with those O'Driscoll fools, whoever they are, it ain't no business of mine. And whether you believe me or not, I was looking for that man, but I don't deserve to be hung for killin' him. Now, I'd like to believe you'd let me go out of the goodness of your heart…but I've got some money. I'll pay you whatever they're offering for the bounty if you just let me alone, okay?"

They both looked over as Charles crested the rise behind them, riding Taima and leading the other two horses along. He slowed to a stop a few feet away, waiting to see what would happen.

Arthur dropped the butt of his cigarette in the dirt and crushed it under his boot, the last of the smoke pluming from his nostrils. "Fine. Money's money. If you've got thirty dollars to hand over, I guess you're free to go."

Wilhelmina bowed her head and walked over to Tulip, running a hand gently along the mare's toned neck and flank and patting it gently before stopping at the saddlebag. She pulled out a money clip, licked her thumb and flicked through a few of the bills before pulling them free and extending them out towards Charles.

Charles' eyes flicked back to Arthur briefly before he reached out and took the money from Wilhelmina, nodding to her. "Thank you, miss."

Some time after they had parted ways with Miss Thorne, the two men were on their way back to Horseshoe Overlook. Charles let out a small snort, reminiscing on their encounter. "That woman was quite a shot. You think she was telling the truth?"

Arthur hummed. "Dunno. Don't matter too much now, one way or the other. Somethin' tells me we won't see her again."