1: Wrong place. Wrong time.
"I'm staying, and that's that!" the woman said with a firm head nod and a crossing of the arms.
Arthur Morgan sighed deeply, shot Lenny a look of disapproval and said, "Well, if you're not moving then I'm gunna' make you."
That got her attention and Arthur had to stifle a smile when a look of pure shock lit up her young features.
"You will do no such thing!" she yelled. "I'll have my father arrest you and your sidekick out there! "
With his hands on his hips, Arthur hung his head.
"Honey," he began. "In case you haven't noticed there's no one around here too tell."
The frightened woman looked out each window of the stagecoach, pulling back the small curtains to take in the carnage he and Lenny had caused. There had been six US Marshalls tailing the stage. Six unexpected US Marshalls. Arthur shot Lenny another look; he was going to have a word with the boy later. This had been goose chase number two that he'd been sent on by this supposed reliable source Lenny had contact with. My ass. Granted the stagecoach was of the finest quality Arthur'd ever seen, the only treasure it carried was the woman and her belongings. It was clear Lenny was avoiding him as he looted the bodies, not even sparing the older outlaw a glance.
Arthur let out another sigh then returned his sight upon the woman. The dress she wore was equally impressive. Silk, he thought. Though, he'd never actually seen a dress made of the material before; only had heard the women at the camp chatter on about it from time to time.
"C'mon," he said reaching his hand out for her to grasp. "I'm not going to hurt you."
"Pull your bandanna down," she said firmly.
"I-I can't do that."
"Then I'm not getting out of here!" She looked away then, stared out the small window beside her.
"Lenny!" Arthur said, attempting to reign in some help.
When Lenny walked over to the next dead Marshall and began to pick through his pockets, Arthur gave up on him and returned his focus on the woman.
"I'm just going to take you to the nearest town."
"Mask down," she demanded.
He gave in, revealing his short goatee. Arthur pulled down on his hat, attempting to conceal his identity somewhat from her.
"Now was that so hard?" she questioned as she placed her delicate hand within his calloused one.
Arthur helped her out of the large stagecoach. She thanked him and straightened the slim dress she wore. He swallowed when he noticed how much of her it showed. The women back at the camp wore revealing things from time to time, but this dress she wore was so thin and revealing, sticking to her like a second skin, that Arthur had to avert his eyes. It was equally clear she wore absolutely nothing underneath.
"If we could please get a move on?"
"A demanding little one, ain't ya?" Arthur asked, brows raised.
"I'm not little," she said. "I'll be thirty-two next February, thank you very much."
"Whatever you say."
She ignored that remark and said, "Now let's get a move on so I can catch the next train in the nearest town."
Arthur turned away from her and headed toward his spotted appaloosa, Sola. The woman did not follow.
"I'm not going anywhere without my things."
She was beginning to get on his last nerve. It was hard not to shoot her right here and now, but he knew that later it would weigh on his conscience, for she had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Stupid Lenny and his god damned informant. Instead of causing a scene, Arthur took a deep breath, thinking of a way to diffuse the situation.
"Look," he began, turning around to face her. "We can't take it all cause the coach horses booked it when the shooting started. Pack a bag, and I'll see what I can carry. But it can't be much."
"Okay," she agreed, rather quickly.
Ten minutes later Sola was packed to the brim with her things. By the assessment of her clothing, this woman had money but barely any on her for some reason; though she had enough for a train ticket. Who was she, he wondered, to garner such an escort through the countryside? Lenny had said nothing throughout the whole process of packing up her things and unbeknownst to Arthur, had disappeared off into the woods on horseback.
"I'm Arthur," he said as he brought Sola to a slow trot.
"Alice," she said from behind him.
"Pleasure to meet you under the circumstances," he offered, though he knew it wasn't much since he and Lenny had held up her stagecoach and killed the driver and the Marshalls that had followed.
Alice said nothing, probably not feeling the same way. Though, Arthur could hardly blame her.
"It's probably a fifteen minute trip to the nearest train station."
"That's fine," she said rather flatly.
The conversation ended there, and the two fell into a somewhat comfortable silence as Arthur led Sola down the road towards Rhodes. Alice held onto him tightly as if she'd never ridden behind someone on horseback before. The path they were on led out into a clearing with no shade to hide the midday sun. Arthur adjusted his cowboy hat, so it covered the back of his neck.
"Phew," Alice breathed. "Is it always so hot this time of year?"
"Yeah, unfortunately, it is."
"But it's only March."
Arthur sniggered. "Where you from? It's clear you're not from around here."
"None of your business, Mister. Arthur," she quipped.
"Fair enough," he said. "How about-what you doing down here? "
"Now that I guess I can answer. I'm writing a book."
"A book?"
"Yes. I needed to see some untamed wilderness for inspiration. Been in kind of a rut lately; my journey led me here."
"Seems as if you got a little more than you've bargained for." Arthur laughed.
"Indeed it seems as if I have," she agreed.
POW!
The shot came from out of nowhere and the next thing Arthur knew Alice was falling off the back of Sola and onto the dust-covered road.