It was easily seen, and indeed well known that Molly O'Shea was a jealous woman. Could she help it? No. Well, she could but her past had told her not to so she didn't. And that was that.
Even now as she sits on a stool near the fire she can hear him, flirting and teasing Mary-Beth. It's sickening to her. How he could one day hold her close and whisper sweet nothings in her ear like she was more precious than gold, and then the next day say he couldn't find the time for her. She asked herself all the time if this was a failing of men in general or just Dutch Van Der Linde in particular.
Her father cheated on her mother, back in Ireland and she had been cheated on before so she was sure it wasn't just Dutch.
The sound of Mary-Beth laughing sends a jolt up her spine. Of course it would be at one of those insipid little jokes of his. He was a well educated man, at least in the art of seduction. He knew what points to hit at to get what he wanted, which usually entailed a bed and a warm body. She'd seen him reading those trashy novels. "The classics" he had called them when she had asked. Molly had said nothing at the time, chalking it up to Dutch's oddness. So she sat there, knitting, like an idiot believing that her and Dutch were as fine as ever. Stuck in her own little world of the closest she could get to domestic tranquility as an outlaw.
The very next day he struck up a "literary conversation" with the younger woman.
It didn't fool Molly for a single second. What had started as one conversation turned into two, and three and then seven. Some even late at night. In Mary-Beth's tent.
She gripped the edge of the barrel she was sitting on as she watches the others around the fire. She knew she wasn't part of this gang. No matter what she would always be the outsider. Before it was because she was "Dutch's girl" but now? Now it was because she wasn't. She had obviously fallen from favor.
She hears his voice and the simper of his new lover, standing, as their barrels are kicked back. Their voices are still close together and grow farther, and farther away as they move to the tent where they were spending their nights having "literary discussion".
While Molly kept home at Dutch's tent, a tent he abandoned for the younger woman, she couldn't help but stew. She was a jealous woman and as much as it made her hate herself she loved him. She loved that cheating bastard. She'd kill him if she had the chance of course but she loved him. How was she supposed to get him back? Well first he needed to notice her. But how was the best way? It was clear that approaching him was no good. And aside from that Molly would not grovel. Would not go to him on his terms.
She crossed her arms under her chest, thinking hard as she sat on the barrel outside the tent, the sounds of Javier and his musical notes drifting over towards her.
"Evening" comes a voice from behind her, causing her to jump as she sees a shadow in the darkness. A match is struck, going to the man's face and illuminating it for a moment before his cigarette is lit and he shakes the match out.
"Ohh, Arthur, you scared me quite a bit there" she says, meaning it. She had been thinking it was a Pinkerton.
The man seemed nonplussed but then again Arthur never seemed to be bothered by anything in this world. Kept to himself. Only really associated when necessary. He was a big man in the gang but he was also separate from it in a way that couldn't be readily understood. "Sorry about that Molly. Was just out for a stroll" he says as he moves out from behind her and stands next to the barrel. He looks towards the fire and Molly is able to see his face. It looks...confused, as if he didn't know what to make of the whole thing.
"Well I reckon I better leave you to it. Don't wanna disturb you and all" he says as he makes to walk off and join the main group.
She's about to let him when a strange idea comes to roost in her mind. A strange, and utterly nefarious idea. Dutch was a possessive person. After all he was an outlaw right? If someone took his money or his gun he'd do anything to get it back. What about it someone "took" his girl?
And Arthur? Arthur was the perfect candidate. He was quiet, not so full of himself, but close enough to Dutch to actually make an impact if he were to find out about it. There was also the fact that he was...well rather easy on the eyes. He wasn't a degenerate who chases skirt easier, like Micah Bell. Molly unconsciously crossed herself, saying a prayer for whichever unfortunate soul wound up laying under Micah for the rest of her life, if there was even going to be such a woman.
She stands, straightening her skirts as she walks after Arthur. "Arthur, would you wait a moment please?" She asks, her thick Irish accent evident in her voice as it always was but even more so due to her nervousness. "What is it?" He asks curiously, stopping and half turning, his hands in his pockets and his cigarette still in his mouth.
She smiles at him, hoping that even in the darkness she could at least attempt to be alluring. "Ohh no reason at all Arthur. Well, it's just you and I we haven't talked much right? And that's no good. We should at least know each other a bit if we're all part of this family shouldn't we?" She asks, hoping that the dress she wore exposed enough cleavage. She always tried to dress conservatively but recently had taken to dressing a bit more provocative in an attempt to lure Dutch back in. There was no dice in that field but this was a different theater of conflict.
She sees the confusion written on Arthur's face but she knew he would say yes. One thing she knew about Arthur, he was never the first one to be rude, especially to a lady.
"Well uhh, I suppose I have some time" he says, his feet doing a strange shuffle as Molly smiles, capitalizing instantly. She loops her arm through his and leads him back to the tent, making a show of getting him a chair. "I'm so glad Arthur. You're so kind. I have to admit I was getting rather lonely" she says as she scoots herself back up onto the barrel and crosses her legs, smiling even wider as he sits. 'Ohh Arthur Morgan. I assure you you'll enjoy this and it's for a good cause' she thinks to herself as the man takes another drag on his cigarette.
"Well, I reckon if you're feeling lonely you could go over to the fire. Everybody there wouldn't mind your company" he says, taking off the wide brimmed hat he wore. It became obvious that he had just gotten a haircut and she couldn't deny that he looked handsome, even in the dim light of a lantern.
"I suppose that's true but I don't truly get along with them you know Arthur?" She says as she runs her fingers through his hair.
This obviously unsettles the man, judging by how his shoulders shake. But he calms down and settles in, continuing to let Molly caress his hair. "It looks good Arthur. Did you go into town?" She asks, knowing that he did. After all, where else would he have gotten the haircut if she didn't see him do it here?
"Uhh well yeah. Just working on rustling up some jobs and leads and such. How are things back in camp? Aside from..well, not getting along?" He asks, also trying to make conversation.
"Oh, things are going well Arthur. Just following Dutch's "plan" she says, spitting the word out with more venom than she intended. To her surprise Arthur laughs. A light little laugh but a laugh nonetheless. It was the first time she'd heard him do so. She wished he'd do it more.
"Ahh well that's Dutch. He's always got plans. It's got us this far." He says to which Molly rolls her eyes. One thing Dutch did well was inspire loyalty. "That's true" she says, her fingers moving from his hair to the side of his face, gently caressing at his stubbled cheeks. "Tell me Arthur. Do you fancy anyone in camp? Any girl here caught your eye? Or maybe someone else?" She asks.
She wanted to get even with Dutch. Not break some other poor girls heart, especially not Tilly whom she had a quiet affection for. If it was Karen? Well that was a harder sell but she doubted she'd want to hurt the abrasive drunk even if they didn't get along.
"Uhh no" he says simply, wondering why this line of questioning was going on. Arthur Morgan was not dimwitted but he sure could miss some signs.
"Ohh no reason" she says, glad that he didn't have anyone else. She is quick to make her next move however as she slides down from the barrel and into Arthur's lap. He goes wide eyed, the close contact between him and Molly setting off the alarms at last. He can't get up though. Not quickly and not without hurting Molly. Perhaps that was part of her plan? And the last thing he wanted to do was shout at the woman and alert the entire camp and Dutch of all people, to what was going on.
"Molly, what are you…" he asks but is interrupted by a pair of plump lips being pressed to his, and two hands pressed on either side of his head. For a minute he wants to struggle but it had been a long time since he had this kind of sensation and he might be damned for saying it but Molly O'Shea was one good kisser. When she finally lets his lips go she smirks and begins pressing kisses along his jawline and cheeks. "Molly", he whispers, "what about Dutch? We can't do this" he says, craning his neck to try and get out of her reach and also to make sure nobody near the fire could see what was going on.
"Forget Dutch. I want you Arthur" she says, finding herself meaning it. Women had needs too, and as her hands lowered into the man's shirt, feeling his toned and scarred torso she felt her lust grow as she licked her lips. Arthur is at a loss and he opens his mouth to voice another refusal but finds himself quieted as Molly's breasts, exposed by the top of her dress, pressed into his face.
Let's just say that Molly O'Shea usually got what she wanted with this tactic.
Not five minutes later she had closed the blinds of the tents, managed to strip not only herself but also Arthur, avoiding his groping hands and eager lips while doing it, and was quickly on top of him.
She had to say that Arthur was a very….gifted lover, both in condition and in technique. She almost felt that it was a little….sweet as she found herself having sex with him. This was the first time she'd ever experienced oral sex from the other side. Arthur had pushed her back on the bed and kissed down her body before doing what Dutch and every other man in her life had refused to do.
Not only that but attention was lathered on her breasts, another sensation she had wanted to experience for a long time. Most men liked breasts, especially large ones but had no idea what to do with them beyond look at them. Arthur? He knew where to lick, grope, pinch and suck to get the right reactions from her.
She was sure they hadn't been heard. They were too busy kissing to scream or moan, but it was one very satisfied Irishwoman who found herself lying bed next to Arthur Morgan that night, gasping for air as she pulled the blanket on Dutch's bed up to cover her breasts. "Saints above" she said simply to which she felt Arthur wraps his arms around her waist and pull her close. She wanted to squirm away but was too tired. Not to mention that he smelled good. Perhaps, for one night she could be held by him. After all, if Dutch was going to cuddle some young whore than why couldn't she take her own company. Arthur kept her close, his face nuzzled into her neck as he quickly fell asleep. Not only was his day long but his tryst with Molly had also been turned into an exercise in physical skill. How could one woman move around so much?
The next morning Molly woke in a surprisingly good mood. She stretched like a cat, letting the blanket fall off of her as she sat up, exposing her still bare chest to the morning air and the small beam of light breaking through a slit in the tent flap. She found herself alone in bed the next morning but she didn't get upset. After all, it was revenge and nothing more. Arthur was an excellent lover, better than Dutch she had to admit, but was no substitute for the man she wanted. After all, Arthur Morgan was a quiet and private man. A follower, not a leader. He didn't fit any of the criteria that Molly wanted in a man.
He was devilishly handsome, and also very skilled in bedroom related activities but Molly brushed these aside as inconsequential.
She dressed quickly and strolled out into the center of camp. Everyone, well everyone excluding Uncle, who was undoubtedly still asleep, was at the fire, eating their breakfast.
Her face went slack as she saw that Mary-Beth and Dutch were close together, almost holding hands. "Good morning Dutch" she says still feeling as if she now has an upper hand in their dealings. After all, he would have to notice her cheery disposition and put two and two together. He needed to know that she didn't need him, even if she felt she did. Molly would be the first to admit that the mind games of women were confusing.
She saw Arthur and smiled slightly, forcing the man to avert his eyes and focus on his plate. That made her stop. Why would he be ashamed of having good sex? It had to be more to do with Dutch and having betrayed him. Regardless, she was glad it happened. It felt very nice to get even with their cheating leader.
"Good morning Dutch" she repeated after he doesn't respond, placing her hands on her lips and giving the man a glowing smile. Perhaps he hadn't heard her. Mary-Beth looked up first, doe eyed and looking like a child who had been caught. She makes to scoot away from Dutch who just looks at the Irish woman. "Morning" he says simply before turning back to Mary-Beth and continuing their conversation.
Molly was flabbergasted, but when she thought it over it became clearer and clearer what her mistake had been.
Dutch didn't know.
After all, she'd only slept with Arthur secretly. Dutch didn't know that he was losing her, and especially to another man. And if Dutch didn't know that then he wouldn't react. How was she to get him to see however?
As she turned to talk says, her eyes settling on Arthur, the answer became clear. He was sitting near Hosea, slowly working his way through his own breakfast. Molly couldn't help but smile as she thought of Arthur Morgan's continued usefulness. She ignores Dutch and Mary-Beth and walked up towards Arthur, a genuine smile splitting her face as she sees the man. Everyone was going to see that her "affections" had shifted. And to the image conscious Dutch, losing her to another man would tantamount to a catastrophe.
"Good morning Arthur" she says sweetly, her hands going to his shoulders as she looks at him in his seated position. It's then that she sees an opportunity to openly work on Arthur. "Would you like me to get some more coffee for you Arthur?" She asks prompting the man to look down at his empty mug. "Well uhh, thank you Molly" he says simply, "I wouldn't mind another cup". He is still averting his eyes, obviously still feeling guilty about what happened last night.
Despite all evidence to the contrary Arthur Morgan was a good man. And that thought deeply intrigued Molly.
"I'll be right back Arthur" she says, taking his cup and walking over towards Pearson's field kitchen. "How about filling mine too there Molly?" comes the teasing voice of Micah, seated on a log just to her right as she walked. His eyes were glued to her, openly undressing her with them. "Get it yourself you layabout" she says, making everyone around laugh as the man grumbles and continues to leer. Even Arthur can't resist one of his small laughs at Molly's response to him.
She quickly returns with his coffee and places it in front of Arthur. "Thank you Molly" he says simply to which Molly responds by sitting down next to him on the log, her arm looping around his as they are seated. "You're very welcome Arthur". Hosea coughs and averts his eyes, seeing what is going on. "Well I best be off Arthur. I have a rather promising lead to look after" he says, rising and dusting off his pants. Arthur looks after the retreating man with a look of betrayal before turning and looking back at Molly who is still seated next to him.
It was fun, for Molly at least.
The day carried on though and Arthur had to leave, off to only God knew where. The women were never truly told what was going on outside of camp or where the money came from. They knew some things, more than the men thought they knew, but still found themselves on a need to know basis. When Arthur finally stood to leave she couldn't help but smile, deciding that teasing Arthur Morgan was a very fun past time indeed. "You be safe out there Arthur. Don't be putting yourself in no danger over one of Dutch's schemes" she had said before hugging him.
The man was obviously unaccustomed to such affection as his arms went wide to either side as Molly wrapped hers around his midsection. Slowly though he brought them in towards Molly and patted her shoulder. "Uhh well thanks Molly".
She smiled and waved at him as he advances to his horse at the hitching post, receiving a small wave in return. Charles and Lenny both happened to be nearby and exchanged curious looks with each other before they see Dutch inquisitively looking over from his position with Mary-Beth. It was clear that he wasn't sure what to make of the situation quite yet, but whatever it was he didn't like it. And Mary-Beth? Poor girl just looked up at Dutch, wondering why she didn't have his complete attention like she normally did.
Molly decided that the next best step in angering Dutch would be to take a proactive role in the camp, especially if it related to Arthur. She walks up to Miss Grimshaw, already busy washing the dishes from breakfast, and taps her on the shoulder. The older woman turns, surprised to see the Irish woman.
"I was wondering if you needed any help Miss Grimshaw"
And so began a strange day for the Van Der Linde gang. Molly quickly busied herself about the camp, not altruistically mind you. Sure she would help Tilly pick up trash, men in general but outlaws in particular, could be such slobs, or help Pearson stack cans but her main avenue of labor was Arthur, even though he wasn't here. "Mr. Morgan never even bothered to set up a few tarps to keep his quarters covered. Damn that man, he's lucky I care otherwise his things would be ruined by rain and who knows what else" she had said before pulling out some extra tarps she had set out for the man, making ready to do it for him. Molly was quick to interrupt. "Don't worry Miss Grimshaw" she said, deciding to show deference for once. "I'll take care of it for Arthur"
The older woman was astonished that the usually privileged Molly was offering to do anything for anyone else but the change was nice. Perhaps she had a change of heart? Or perhaps she was trying to curry favor since she was clearly on the outs with Dutch? Whichever one it was, Susan Grimshaw was going to take advantage. It would be nice to have another pair of helping hands. "Alright then Ms. O'Shea. Here you are. Make sure they're nice and tight. If you see anything else that needs to be done you just show some initiative, you hear?" She asks to which the red haired woman nods, taking the tarps. "Of course Miss Grimshaw"
Setting up the tarps was easy enough. Arthur's quarters were always next to the ammunition wagon and there was enough space on the overhang to allow her to set a few hooks into the wooden pillars. After that hanging the tarps was easy. She used all three, one for the back, one for the right side and one for the left side, the pullout overhang on the wagons side serving as enough of a roof as it was. She quickly set about giving Arthur a door, using a good length of fabric and splitting it up the middle so he could walk through it. All it needed was a few tie ons so it could be "locked" and it was golden.
Her next mission was to clean his tent. His clothes and personal belongings were everywhere, stuffed in his trunk or on his camp bed. She removed everything, separated the clean from the dirty and began to organize. When that was done she was able to use the water trough to clean his dirty clothes. It was quickly becoming clear to her that starting to work on cleaning another man's life up was harder than maintaining the work she'd already done in another man's tent. But she found she enjoyed it. The look on everyone's face was also amusing. The high strung Molly working all day for Arthur Morgan's sake. "He sure is a pig huh Molly?" asks Abigail, wanting to find out why Molly was being so proactive. She just turned and smiled at the irritable woman. "No more so than any other man. Although I must say he is contained. Doesn't leave trash around the camp.
This is punctuated by John Marston throwing an empty can of beans onto the ground and walking away. Abigail just sighed and picked up the can, leading Molly to laugh. "Speak of the devil" she says to which Abigail can't help but smile. "More like the slob".
Molly smiled and excused herself, hanging Arthur's wet but clean clothes on a clothesline, a clothesline she had set up by herself near his tent.
She sat on his camp chair, taking out a knitting needle and some fabric. It was a pastime of hers but perhaps Arthur would enjoy some new socks? She had gotten rather good at it and it would send Dutch through the roof. She wondered if he had noticed her bustling about the camp, and all on account of Arthur. What would he think? She hoped he'd be steaming. It's then that Lenny walks by, having just returned and now looking for Arthur. "Hey Arthur...ohh hi Molly" he said, tipping his hat respectfully. "Sorry I was looking for Arthur. Got a good lead I wanna share with him"
Molly smiles up at the black man and continues her knitting. "He ain't here yet Lenny. I'll tell him to come find you when he is though" she says, threading the needle in and out.
"That's mighty kind of you Molly" he says turning to leave before stopping and turning. "Hey uhh, this might be personal and all but, you're not sweet on Arthur are ya? It's just all this effort and all on his account it's just a little strange. What I mean is we aren't used to seeing you around if it ain't Dutch related" he says obviously nervous about bringing up such a topic. Molly narrows her eyes at him, feeling a little piqued at the insinuation that she was lazy. It was spot on, of course. She knew how to work, knew she could help around camp, but often chose not to. She was comfortable being Dutch's girl and one of the privileges of that was not having a heavy workload.
Things would return to that of course. But first she needed to get her hands dirty. She was not above it when it would get her somewhere.
"Well, I guess I just wanted to help Arthur. He's so overworked. Dutch relies on him for everything and what does he get for it? Accusations and mistrust. I thought Arthur might appreciate someone doing something nice for him for once" she says, telling a half truth. She knew that Dutch needed Arthur and she did feel bad about how he was treated. But her motive was two pronged. If Lenny heard that she cared about Arthur and that she badmouthed Dutch, that would get around to the man in question ears.
Lenny just nods, going a little wide eyed at Molly of all people talking negatively about Dutch. He wouldn't lie though, it was welcome. He liked Dutch too but the cult surrounding him sometimes made him uncomfortable. Especially Bill Williamson. "Well uhh I'm sure he does appreciate it miss. He'd be a fool not to. Anyway I won't take up anymore of your time" he says, tipping his hat and walking off. She smiled after him. Lenny was a nice kid. She understood why Arthur and Hosea were so fond of him.
It was two hours later when she finally finished the pair of wool socks. She laid them both out on the bed and admired them. Mostly uniform and even. One of her better works if she had to comment herself.
The sun was setting and the whinnying of horses returning from a long days gallop soon assaulted her ears. "Woah there, easy girl" comes Arthur's voice, gently soothing his horse. Molly was quick to react, evacuating his tent before he could see her. She wanted him to be surprised, give him time to see his new quarters before he figured out who'd done it for him, at that time letting Molly walk in with two plates of dinner.
She smiles from Pearson's wagon, telling the cook that she was also bringing Arthur his dinner. The fat man simply quirked his eyebrow. "Arthur? Thought you usually brought Dutch his dinner?" He asked curiously as the Irishwoman stands in the front of the line. "Let Mary-Beth bring him his. And besides Arthur's been working all day. Dutch has just been sitting about talking "literature" with our residential dreamer" she said leading the people around her, also waiting for food, to wonder.
As Pearson poured her two bowls of stew she realized that she had worked out a good equation. Talk up Arthur, talk down Dutch. That got a lot of minds working and rumors started. Although she supposed they weren't just rumors if they were true. She was sleeping with Arthur, well had slept with Arthur but not for the reasons they thought. She didn't love Arthur. Was growing fond of him? Yes. Love? No.
"Thank you Mr. Pearson" she says, taking the two bowls of towards the ammunition wagon and walking inside as if she belonged there. Arthur practically jumps as he had been sitting on the bed, admiring his changed surroundings when she entered. "Ohh, dammit Molly. Don't sneak up on me like that" he says, blushing at having been snuck up on at all. It was rather...cute. Molly ignores that for the moment and smiles at the man. "Consider it payback for the other night," she says, handing him the bowl and sitting down on the bed next to him.
"Thank you" he says simply, taking the bowl and eagerly, but also neatly, spooning the stew out and into his mouth. "Miss Grimshaw finally did it huh? She civilized me" he says jokingly to which Molly actually laughs. "It wasn't Susan. It was me Arthur. '' The man goes a bit wide eyed but then nods in understanding. "Yup. I figured it was a little too kind of old Grimshaw to wash my clothes and organize my stuff. But Molly if you don't mind me asking, why?"
She puts the stew bowl down on a crate, swallowing before she turns to him and leaned her head against his shoulder. "Can't a woman do something nice for a man every now and again without being questioned?" She asks innocently. It was obvious that Arthur Morgan was no match for the sensuous package that was Molly O'Shea.
"Well, I would suppose so but..Molly you're Dutch's girl. Whatever happened the other night, we can't do that again. You hear?" He says grabbing her shoulders and gently rubbing them, wanting to be as careful with the woman as possible. He didn't realize it yet but Molly was also a gifted actor. She is able to wet her eyes and sniffle, instantly forcing the usually taciturn man to hug her. "Come on now, none of those theatrics. We both know what we did was a mistake" he said, still holding her close.
"It..wasn't a mistake Arthur" says Molly, sniffling as she holds onto him, wrapping her arms around his chest and laying her head on him as well. "I really like you" she adds. She felt a little bad for lying, although it wasn't a "lie" per say. She did like Arthur. She liked him a lot, but she knew she was doing this only to get Dutch to notice her again. Arthur wouldn't get hurt would he? She didn't know much about him but she thought he wouldn't be the type to be hurt over a woman.
"But, Molly you're Dutch's girl. If he finds out he'll kill me quicker than a snakebite" he says, exasperated by the woman pressing her very voluptuous body against his. "I am nobody's property Arthur Morgan, least of all Dutch. Besides, he won't notice. He's seeing Mary-Beth now" she says forcefully. She leans back and sits herself up, starring the man right in the eyes. "I like you and I can tell you like me. We are grown adults and we are going to decide to be together" she says sternly, her accent thick and heavy due to the inner turmoil going on inside her.
"Well, hold on a minute now. That sounds like you just came up and made all the decisions already" he says, sputtering and smarting from being handled so effectively. Molly simply smiles and runs her hand down the side of his face. "Exactly. You're a man Arthur. A stubborn man. You need me to tell you what to do, kind of like a horse" she says before beginning to pepper kisses all his jawline and cheek. "Ahh now…" he begins but stops as he rather likes what she's doing. And the feeling of her breasts pressed against him, as usual, helps. "Ahh hell" he says grabbing her by the waist and pinned her to the bed, his lips going to hers as he supports himself by his palms on either side of her.
She lets out an excited yelp, not heard over Uncle and Bill's shouting or Javier's guitar playing.
She remembered that night as a particularly pleasurable one, with her once again, falling asleep comfortable in his arms. The next morning was the icing on the cake. She exited the tent, working on fixing her dress and re positioning her breasts as she did, all the while not paying attention to her mussed hair or where she was going. "Arthur you awake…." comes the voice of Hosea, interrupted as he collides with the woman. "Oof sorry Molly...wait, Molly?!" He shouts before tipping his hat and walking away, wanting nothing to do with whatever this was. He was a young man once and instantly knew what the two of them had been up to.
Molly just smiles. Laughing to herself she calls after the old man. "I'll tell Arthur you was looking for him" she says before walking over to the food wagon where Pearson and a few others, Tilly, Kieran and Karen, were assisting with the cookies of breakfast. Tilly and Kieran both cast serendipitous glances at each other as Karen continues to slice the bacon. Molly instantly works on the coffee, setting the pot over a small fireplace. She knew Arthur would want coffee before anything else.
She hums quietly to herself, showing a much more chipper mood than anyone was used to.
"So, little miss perfect. Mind telling us what you were doing in Arthur's tent all night?" the blonde asks, almost a hint of jealousy in her voice. Molly continues with the coffee, adding a few sticks to the fire as Pearson backs away sensing a blow-up. "I could, but I don't think Tilly's virgin ears could handle it," she says, causing Karen to snort condescendingly. "Whore" she says under her breath while Tilly just gasps and quickly hurries away, going to get Grimshaw.
Usually Molly might say something witty back, like "drunk" or call her a whore instead. But today? She just felt too happy. And Karen wasn't going to ruin her mood. "For Arthur? Yes. I am a whore. But only in Arthur's tent" she says, practically admitting to the whole thing, as if anyone needed clarification. She smiles as she takes the coffee off, it having been brewed enough and takes it to the serving table, walking past a still drunken Micah.
"Morning gorgeous" he says with a slur, receiving an upturned nose and a "piss off" in return. He walks up to Pearson and the ladies, Tilly having returned after being told by Grimshaw that Karen and Molly were quote "big girls who can handle themselves". Micah pulls his hat off of his head and places it on the table, leering now at Karen before turning to Pearson. "What the hell is her problem?" He asks gesturing over his shoulder to Molly's retreating back.
"Maybe your shining character and ceaseless charm" says Karen which causes Pearson and Tilly to laugh, Tilly a light snicker, her hand covering her mouth while Pearson lets out a raucous belly laugh. Karen just smiles, mentally patting herself on the back for being so clever.
"Very funny" Micah says sinisterly, already plotting his revenge. "But seriously. What's going on with her? She's acting all different like, and it's beginning to bug me. Something has gotten into her" he says to which Karen responds with "Arthur Morgan has gotten into her. You'd see that if you weren't such a lout" she says, now cracking eggs in a pan to put over the fire where Molly had brewed the coffee.
"That so?" Micah asks, putting a foot up on the barrel. "Huh, guess he screwed a smile onto her face. Good for the cowpoke" he says openly as genial as he can manage all the while thinking of ways he could use this to his advantage. Insinuations to Dutch and whispered rumors. He wouldn't tell Dutch outright. No that would give it away to the older man that he was angling. No he had to let Dutch figure it out all on his own and all he needed to do was point him in the right direction. Arthur Morgan was making love to his own death and Micah hoped he enjoyed every second of it.
Looking over his shoulder he watches as Molly enters his tent, a cup of coffee in her hand, a smile splitting her face. This was going to be easy. After all, they were giving him all the tools. Practically making the rope he'd use to hang them.
The next few weeks pass with confusion, gunfire and bloodshed. It always seemed to happen that way though. They packed up and left Horseshoe Overlook, heading to some place they called Lemoyne. There was supposed to be gold in it or something. Two families feuding over the war and such. Molly didn't care for the details. While Dutch made his plans she made hers. Although she had to admit she was enjoying her time away from Dutch more than she should have.
She spent most nights with Arthur in his tent. Surprisingly to her it wasn't always sexual. Sometimes he would just sit and whittle at something or they'd just make quiet conversation. The first time this happened he had yawned loudly and began to take his clothes off, leaving himself in a pair of long johns he had purchased in town. Molly herself stripped into her night dress, laying her outer dress on a barrel, and slipped into bed. "Night Molly" he said, laying on his back, his eyes closing and falling asleep. As she laid beside him she was a little shocked. She had been ready to tell him she wasn't in the mood tonight, to slap away his groping hands. There was none of that. Instead Molly crawled in closer and laid her head on his chest, his arm instantly closing around her waist.
"You smell nice" he said, half asleep before he falls back into slumber. His eyes hadn't even opened. She smiled at that and nuzzled her face into his chest even more. She could admit that Arthur Morgan was a very good man could she? It didn't mean she loved him after all, she just enjoyed his touch, his voice and felt strange whenever he even looked at her. That wasn't love was it? Before this she could have easily told you what love was or wasn't but now? She wasn't even sure if she loved Dutch let alone Arthur. Love wasn't possessive. Love was patient, love was kind. She tried to remember where she heard this from but in her tiredness she forgot.
It didn't matter. She was soon asleep.
One morning she wound up waking alone in bed, Arthur having told her the previous night that he needed to be up early and gone soon after that. She remembered being put out because she found herself to be in a rather frisky mood. When she pouted he noticed and with a sigh and a lilting smile came up behind her and began to fondle her. "Well, perhaps if we're quick" he had said. She smiled at the memory. Even a quick bit of fun left her breathless. There was also the fact that Arthur was a very skilled man.
She yawns, stretching again and getting herself ready for breakfast when she smells it already in the tent. She looks to the right and sees a plate of breakfast, a cup of coffee and two prairie daisies. Not exactly the most romantic of flower choice but Molly felt her heart leap at the thought that he had taken a quick minute to do something like that for her. She smiles and picks up the flowers, smelling them and her nose curling. Apparently they weren't very pleasing to the nose either but Arthur got points for trying.
She ate her breakfast in bed, thinking once more about her past. No man had ever truly done anything like this for her. She hadn't expected it to change with Arthur.
She strolled about the camp that day, almost floating as she waited for Arthur to come back. Not even Karen's snideness could bring her down. She caught Tilly joking with Mary-Beth and Abigail that Molly had become a lot different since she became "Arthur's woman". That sent a strange sensation up her spine. She was nobody's woman, she had told him that, but...was it true? It occurred to Molly then that she was becoming such a good liar that she couldn't keep track as good as she used too.
Abigail laughed, while Molly continued to do dishes, the others not aware of her being right around the corner. "Best not let Dutch hear you say that. You know how he is" Abigail retorted back, the smile on her face being given away by her voice. "And why would he care? He doesn't need her" comes the petulant voice of Mary-Beth who seemingly wants to fight Abigail if her tone is anything to go one. "Right. I forgot. Mary here is the favored bed warmer now" retorts Abigail, not at all afraid of the soft bookworm. "That's not true!" Comes the swift reply and there is a muffled sound of a scuffle. Molly smiles as she looks around the corner, watching as Abigail Marston has Mary-Beth on the ground. Tilly just stares in shock, looking like she's ready to bolt.
"Come here Tilly. Let Abigail and Mary work out their problems like women hmm? I need your help with the dishes" she says simply, deciding that giving the shy girl something to do would be a good way of calming her. As Abigail pins her, and prevents her from screaming Mary-Beth pleads with Tilly with her eyes to help her. Tilly simply steps over the woman and over to Molly. The redhead smiles at the black girl and takes her by the shoulders, leading her to the water barrels. "Come on now there's a lot of dishes to do and the two of us will get them knocked out right quick" she says, quickly getting the younger woman into a routine as they ignore the sounds of struggle behind the wagon.
"Miss O'Shea? Can I be honest with you?" She asks, washing a plate and handing it off to Molly. "Mhhm" she says in response, moving the dry rag over the plate and placing it on the floor in a crate. "You've been, well acting different. And...it's good if you don't mind me saying" Tilly says honestly, causing Molly to look up. It had only recently occurred to her that her world was Dutch. Because of that she had blocked everyone else out and because she was with Dutch she didn't really have any reason to change that. But..things were different.
"Well, I thank you for your kind words Tilly" she says simply, smiling tightly at the girl but not wanting to discuss it further.
Tilly is about to say something else but is stopped by Mary-Beth rushing past them, her collar ripped open and blood trickling down her mouth. She was crying but they only caught a quick glimpse of her rushing back to the tent her and Dutch now shared. Abigail comes around the corner, looking no worse for wear and smiles at the two women who continue their chore. "Thank you kindly for letting me have a little alone time with our resident miss priss. She was unlikable before with her damn reading and book learning, but now that she's Dutch's whore she's damn near intolerable".
Molly frowned at that. Sure she had no special affection for Mary-Beth, but the words could have just as easily been said about her. She also found it funny that practically everybody knew. She knew they knew about Dutch throwing her over, but she didn't think any of them would be open and saying something. But leave it to good old Abigail to break down the walls of propriety.
Abigail noticed that she had struck a chord and finds herself feeling a little bad. "Well I won't lie Molly. Used to feel that way about you. You're alright. Much better person now that you're with Arthur" she says causing Molly to blush. "I'm...well...thank you" she says simply not liking the fact that everybody thought she was "with" Arthur. Sure she had worked hard to make that illusion but now that she was facing the open accusation of it? It was starting to bother her. Not the fact that she was perceived to be with Arthur but the fact that it was a lie. And how has it worked? Dutch didn't seem to care. He hadn't exchanged a word with her in a month. Hadn't even noticed that her things were removed from his tent.
"So...tell us. How do you feel about Arthur?" asks Tilly, excited to gossip with her new friend. Molly just blushes and continues washing dishes. "Well...he's a man. Not much more than that" she says in response causing Abigail to laugh.
"Sweetie, John is just a man. You won't see me bringing him breakfast every morning, cleaning his tent as soon as it gets messy and jumping to whenever he needs something. And even if I did John wouldn't respond the same way Arthur does. I don't think you notice the way he looks at you or the way he talks about you when the topic is brought up. He smiles at you when you ain't looking, and whenever Micah says anything about you behind your back Arthur is the first to throw a punch. All out of your sight of course. If I know Arthur he's afraid to tell you. Big bad Arthur Morgan is afraid of little Molly O'Shea with her green dress and thick brogue. So, have you told him you're in love with him?" Abigail finishes by leaning against the wagon, causing Tilly to giggle uncontrollably.
Molly just blushes and looks down, her guilt overriding her as she feels the need to confess. "I...I have only gotten close to Arthur to get Dutch back" she says continuing to wash dishes as the two women look on in shock. Molly instantly has regrets about saying what she did. She didn't want to lose the camaraderie she had developed with her two unlikely friends. But she also couldn't continue a lie.
"Ohh, that so?" Abigail asks quietly, with Tilly remaining silent. "That's so" she says in response, not enjoying being questioned further on the situation. "Well it may have started that way but, you're still not answering the question. You've been with him, regardless of why, for a little on two months now. Do you love him?"
The question is met with silence as Molly puts the dish down, wiping away the soap with the water as she does. "Yes" she says silently, and for the first time she feels that she's telling the truth. She does love Arthur Morgan.
There is silence that reigns for a moment until Abigail continues. "Does he know? Not about tricking him for Dutch and all, but the fact that you love him" she asks to which Molly shakes her head, getting teary eyed. She'd never felt so guilty in her life.
"I can't tell him. Because….he'll hate me if I do" she says, to which Abigail laughs. "Then don't tell him how it started. Tell him how you feel now. What's that saying? A woman's heart is an ocean of secrets? Something like that" she said to which Tilly looked stricken. "Lie?" She asks before turning to Molly. "I..I don't think that's a good idea Molly. I think you should tell him"
"Arthur is a proud man. He won't exactly like knowing he was used. But he would like to know that Molly here loves him, which is the truth I'm assuming?" She asks casting a curious glance at the woman who simply blushes. "It's the truth. Lord strike me down if it's not. I blame myself for it" she says, ready to break out into tears with the guilt of what she had. Tilly is quick though, and takes the Irishwoman into a hug, rubbing her back gently. "Don't cry Molly. Please don't. Arthur...he's a good man. Practically worships the ground you walk on. He can forgive you".
"If you tell him it won't end well. You know about Mary Linton?" Abigail asks to which the crying woman, now bringing herself back to composure, shakes her head. "Who is she?"
"John says she was Arthur's lover. He was fixing to marry her to. She said yes but was lying to him. Her family wouldn't allow it, and when the time came there was Arthur Morgan waiting alone for them to go to the chapel. You can't tell him Molly. I know it's low down and dirty but we're outlaws ain't we? Isn't this par for the course? And it's not like you'd be lying to steal from him or kill him. You're protecting him. Under all that tough exterior Arthur is a haunted man Molly. Doesn't he deserve a little happiness? And isn't that happiness worth a little white lie? As long as you're telling the truth now, I don't see why the past needs to come up"
Abigail finishes her statement and it surprised Molly that the tough former prostitute actually seemed to care about people other than her or her family. But then again, weren't they all family?
Molly looks over towards Tilly expecting a retort but all she gets from the black woman is an unsure expression. "Maybe Abigail is right" she says simply, finally acquiescing to logic, or at least logic as Abigail saw it.
Molly is about to say more when the sound of horses entering the camp comes upon them, the men having returned from whatever task they set before themselves that day. "Good work gentlemen. Good work. We are going to come out on top of this one. I almost feel bad playing these hicks like we are" comes the voice of Dutch, Micah and the rest quickly laughing in support of their leader. "This is it Dutch. This is our big break. You were right. Absolutely right", says Micah Bell, Bill Williamson and Javier nodding along with him. Hosea and Arthur however, stood apart, a look of quiet worry on their faces.
"Dutch, don't you think we might be playing this fast and loose? They can easily find out we've been working with the Grays too. We…"
"Always doubting Arthur. Always doubting me, and our plan. How am I to trust you son when all I get from you is backbiting? You and Hosea. It's most disappointing" he says in response and instead of further conversing with his oldest and most trusted confidants, turns back to his new lackies. Arthur just looks at Hosea, hitching his horse sadly. It had become obvious that a rift had opened between Dutch and Arthur. Hosea and Charles, Lenny and most of the women, excluding Mary-Beth, found themselves drifting towards suspicion and distrust of Dutch as well. He didn't know this, not yet. To Dutch he only had two mutinous members within his gang. A king not realizing that his kingdom was divided.
Tilly turns to further speak to Molly, but finds the Irish woman gone, walking towards the entrance to the camp where the hitching posts were. She makes to go after her, wanting to give her further encouragement but is stopped by an unlikely source. Karen, having just come from her tent, grabs the younger woman's shoulder to prevent her from going. "You gotta let her do this herself. She knows what to do. I may hate her a little bit but….well I lo...care about Arthur enough to know what's best for him. And what's best is letting Molly talk to him without outside interference"
Abigail noticed the faux paus and looked on the blonde woman sadly, never having realized that Karen had feelings for the quiet gunslinger. The world wasn't fair sometimes.
Molly was deep in thoughts of another kind. Tell the truth or lie about her feelings from the beginning or tell Arthur about how she felt now? She could do both of course but deep down fear courses down her spine.
"Miss O'Shea" says Bill Williamson, being the first to see her approach. Dutch turns and for the first time in two months smiles at Molly. "Ahh, Molly. How are you? May I say you look gorgeous today" he begins, making to walk toward her. If he had said this a month ago she would have run into his arms. Now? She sidestepped him, giving a cold reply. "Dutch. I'm sorry but I have to speak with Arthur" she said simply and walked towards the man still standing next to Hosea at the back of the queue.
The others see confusion and then irritation cross their leaders face as he stares after the woman he assumed would always be available to him. Surely she wasn't sore about Mary-Beth? After all, Dutch didn't truly care for the younger girl. She was just a bit of sport. Nothing more. Molly was his main girl. Wasn't that enough for her?
Arthur looks up to see the redhead walking towards him and smiles. "Molly" he says, tipping his hat. He didn't want to worry her by letting on how nervous he was about the precarious position of the gang. The last thing he wanted to do was worry her. The smile she returns is bright, it always is but something is off in it. Her hand goes to his arm, rubbing it through his jacket. "Arthur, can we talk? I'm sorry Hosea. Can I borrow Arthur?" She asks as she notices the old man beside her lover.
Hosea just nods, a light smile twisting his lips. The animosity between him and Dutch had grown and with that animosity the acceptance of Arthur and Molly as an item had too. There was also the very positive part of seeing the man he considered a son happy. And he was happy. Arthur never looked at anything the way he looked at Molly. Money, whiskey or whores didn't incite the response that Molly was able to get from him with simply a smile.
Hosea tips his hat and looks up, seeing Dutch watch the interchange with suspicion. "Of course Miss O'Shea,of course. He'd rather look at you then talk to me anyways" he says before he pats Arthur on the shoulder and moves off towards his tent.
Molly smiles at the old man, thanking him without saying anything before looking back at Arthur. "Arthur can we speak? Privately" she asks, casting a glance back at the now fuming Dutch, who was now angrily chomping on a cigar. "Uhh yeah of course Molly" he says as he gestures towards the trees. "How about we take a walk?" He suggests to which she nods happily, looping her arm through his. "Let's go then "
The woods are quiet, only the occasional sound of a fox or a chipmunk interrupting their silence. It's only when they are unable to see the camp that Molly stops him, standing right in front of him, her arms on his shoulders. She was always surprised that she was almost as tall as Arthur, only an inch shorter or so. She had seen Arthur as a larger than life figure for so long that it was hard to imagine that height would be on the shorter side. But she was happy to not have to stand on her toes to kiss him. As it was now her lips were pressed to his face, pouring all her passion into the embrace. When she let's go Arthur is flustered, his hands on her waist as he looks at her.
"Not that uhh, I'm complaining or anything Molly just need to ask what was that for?"
"I love you Arthur" she says, the words coming out of her mouth before she can think of anything else. It wasn't the optimal way of telling him. After all she had wanted to ease into it. Perhaps get him to say it first and take the weight off of her. But Molly couldn't bring herself to be selfish. Not this time.
Arthur's eyes go wide in response and he turns his head away from her, looking off into the trees. "Molly, let's not keep this up any longer huh? Did you really think I didn't know what this is about? That I wasn't just a tool for you to get back at Dutch" he says, his hands dropping away from her waist as he makes to walk off.
Molly is flabbergasted. How did Arthur know?
She rushes after him, stopping him by grabbing his arm and pulling. "Arthur now you wait just a minute" she says sternly but also worriedly. She couldn't lose him. Not now. He stops and turns, angrily looking at the woman who he had shared a bed with for the past few months.
"I don't have to listen to you. I don't have to take this shit" he says but stays still nonetheless, unconsciously doing as she asked. She looks up at him, pleading in her eyes as her hands grasp his jacket. Her mouth opens and closes several times, as if she can't quite figure out what to say. "H..how did you figure out?" She finally asks, choking back a sob.
"You think you were that sneaky? First two weeks I thought maybe you just wanted some fun. Then I saw how you'd look at him, pay extra attention to me when he was around. Think I was just some dumb thug who don't know when he's being played?"
His voice was filled with anger and hurt, and for the first time Molly O'Shea realized that Arthur could be hurt. And she had been the one to do it.
"Arthur.." she begins. "It started that way. I won't lie to you. It did. And I hate meself for it. I do. But...you changed it Arthur. With your damn decency and comforting. Your kisses and lovemaking, your caring and staring. It all changed my mind Arthur. I want you Arthur. I am a cold woman. A liar and a layabout. I'm all these horrible things. But I don't think I'm cruel. I wouldn't tell you something like that if I didn't mean it" she says her hands still on the lapels of his duster.
He averts his eyes from hers again and this time Molly doesn't allow it, gently moving her hand to the side of his face and guiding him back to looking at her. "How do I know you ain't lying?" He asks seriously to which Molly lays her head down on his chest and quietly cries. The tears leak down her face, and she can't help but feel horrified. How could he know?
"I swear on me mother's grave Arthur that I love you. You….you're the man I've been waiting for me whole life. And I didn't realize it until now. Life would have been a lot different for us if I'd been less stupid earlier. Arthur….can you tell me you don't feel the same way about me? If you don't I'll walk away and never bother you again but, if you do…" she says letting the sentence trail off.
Its silent once more and Arthur looks away a third time, seeking an answer in the trees. For Molly the minute is an eternity and she readies herself for her well deserved rejection.
"Ahh hell" he finally says, taking her face in his hands and kissing the Irishwoman for all she's worth, and by the way he was kissing her she was worth a fortune to Arthur. She kisses him back, letting him know how she really feels about him as well. It isn't long until she puts more in, her tongue gently brushing across Arthur's lip which prompts him to gently push her back with a groan. "Can't be doing that out here Molly. Pinecones don't make good bedding" he says laughing lightly, his hands going to her waist again as he pecks her lips.
"Now uhh, let's get back to camp. Before the others well…."
"They already know Arthur. All the girls do anyway. I have to say Karen seemed quite jealous of me" she says with a giggle, looping her arm through Arthur's again. The man makes no response, at least not a verbal one. She can tell by his face that Arthur Morgan is put off balance by her. She doesn't mind. Quite the contrary she likes being the one problem he can't solve with a revolver.
They also, slowly through the trees, luxuriating in each other's company. "What do we tell Dutch, Molly? We have to tell him. I..well I won't keep things between us a secret no longer" he asks to which Molly says "Just tell him the truth. I doubt he cares Arthur. Mary-Beth is his girl" she says simply, her hand going to his chest as they stop for a moment. "And I'm….well I'm yours. That's just all there is to it."
Arthur smiles and leans in, kissing her once more. "I just hope he doesn't shoot me. Things haven't been going well between us as it is."
"Because Dutch doesn't like being questioned Arthur. Doesn't like anyone having input, even in their own lives. Everyone else may be fine with it but me? I ain't" she says fiercely and Arthur couldn't help but agree. "I...well I think he means well and all" he says in response, wanting to stick up for his friend at least a little.
Molly gets a faraway look on her face. It's clear that she's thinking about something when she looks back up at Arthur. "Let's leave Arthur. You, me and anyone else who wants to come. We can make a fresh go of it. Either in Mexico or Australia. Continue on as outlaws or become farmers. I don't care much either way anymore as long as I'm with you".
Arthur lets out a slight chuckle. "I thought you weren't no fan of rough living" he says causing the woman to blush a bit. "I've...gotten used to it. I've had a bit of incentive" she says teasingly, moving in to rub Arthur's chest. It was amazing to him how she could turn things around so easily. But there was still the matter of what Molly had said to address.
"We can't just leave Dutch. Now I know things haven't been going according to plan and all but we have to trust him, at least for a little while. I...I can't betray him Molly".
She's a little angered. She usually is when she doesn't get her way but she sighs and goes with what Arthur says. She knows it's wrong to just up and leave, especially when so many relied on Arthur. "Alright" she says quietly, both of them turning and walking back into camp.
Their lovemaking is sweet and gentle that night, with kisses and caresses being lavished on her body. Molly O'Shea wasn't used to being treated like this but it was becoming normal with Arthur. She rewarded him in equal measure. Suffice it to say it was a very happy couple that enjoyed the next few weeks.
Things really changed when Sean Maguire came back. Sure he had been around camp at Horseshoe Overlook but he had been in some sort of scouting mission for a week or so. She was happy, despite all outward appearances. Mr. Maguire was a...acquired taste. But his admiration and respect for Arthur was apparent. And as much as he hid it as well the feeling was mutual. The party that night was...spectacular as all parties involving Sean were. Drinks and song were flowing and the longer the night went on the more liquor was consumed and the bawdier the songs. Molly stopped singing at a particular song involving what she later found out was a euphemism for a woman's genitals. Karen had instantly seen her embarrassment and decided to rib her about it. The ribbing was just part and parcel of becoming part of the gang. Molly had come to accept it. It meant they liked you.
"Ohh, Ms. O'Shea doesn't like our song" she slurred out drunkenly, laughing as she punched the Irishwoman's shoulder. Molly just blushed more. It was a constant chore to keep herself calm when she was being teased. All that time being separated from them by her own choice and her constant belief that they hated her had done a number.
She looks up at the assorted members hanging about the fire and smiles. "Ahh well, I..guess not too much" she admits honestly leading to a bit of raucous laughter around the fire.
"Well I find that surprising. Considering the noises I hear coming out of Arthur's tent at night" comes Karen's retort.
Molly smiles and looks at the blonde woman. "What are you doing around Arthur's and I's tent late at night? Are you jealous Karen? Perhaps you should ask Sean to keep you warm instead of my bedroom exploits" she says leading to Bill Williamson practically falling off his chair and the rest laughing incredibly hard.
Karen is shocked for a second and then blushed as she turns back to the fire and drinks from her whiskey bottle once more.
"I heard me name" comes the thick Irish brogue as the man in question takes a seat next to his not so hidden crush. Karen just growls at him leading the Irishman to put up his hands before grasping her by the waist and pulling her into his lap. "Easy tigress. Easy". Karen for her part fights for a second or two before simply getting comfortable. It was funny to Molly. She would always pretend that she didn't love him and it didn't stop him for one second. Maybe he just knew?
Her thoughts are interrupted as Tilly turns to Molly and asks, "where's Arthur?"
"I sent him on a little errand" comes Dutch's voice having walked up behind the group. His hands go to Molly's shoulders and begin to rub, an act that is rebuffed by the woman in question. She squirms out of his hands and moves over, sitting next to Karen and Sean under the pretext of giving Dutch a seat. Dutch for his part looks confused. Why wasn't Molly happy? After all, she was his. She was supposed to come running back. That was the script.
He sat down, his eyes still lingering on the woman who refused to meet his gaze.
The rest of the gang had assumed a quiet tension, staring at the fire or their whiskey. "What's the matter with you fellas? It's a party ain't it?" Dutch asks, a chuckle in his voice. "Yeah boss. It sure is" comes the nervous chuckle of Javier and Bill nods. Micah? Well he just smirks. It was amazing to the rest how Dutch was so clueless that he couldn't see what was going on between Arthur and Molly. Or did he? He was always smarter than he let on and sometimes it was damn near infuriating.
He opens his mouth to say something when the sound of horses approaching disturbs them. Well rather one horse. "Arthur's back!" Molly shouts excitedly, standing up and rushing to the horse pens. All color drains from Dutch's face, something Hosea notices with suspicion instantly. Leaning up he looks his old friend straight in the eyes. "What's going on Dutch?". He doesn't answer. Instead he stands up, his hand going to his holster to check that his revolver is still there. The others, Micah, Bill and Javier follow suit.
Lenny, Charles and Hosea all look at each other, wondering what to do before they too grab their weapons and follow their leader who had just taken off in the direction of the horse pens. Something was definitely wrong. Sean looks at Karen and tells her, "love stay right here. Something tells me this isn't going to end well" he says before kissing her lips and moving off.
Susan Grimshaw is the first woman after Molly to react. "Alright everyone, behind the wagons," she says, her hand going to Tilly's shoulder as she is pushed along. Mary-Beth comes along but her head constantly craning to see where Dutch was. The poor girl hadn't seen her beau for at least a week, or not for enough time to be worth anything.
Molly is ecstatic to see Arthur and as soon as he is off his horse she wraps her arms around him.
She knows something is off. The way he holds her tightly. Tighter than ever before. "Listen to me, Molly listen. You need to get into the trees and get away. It's going to go real bad in a minute" he says simply to which Molly looks up at him, wide eyed and scared. She hadn't heard Arthur sound...afraid. She decided right then that she didn't like it. If Arthur Morgan was afraid then it was worthwhile to take caution. "Wh...why what's going on Arthur?" she asks, her hands going to his lapels once.
"Dammit woman no time. Get behind those trees" he says quickly, seeing Dutch and the rest coming towards him. Instead of doing what he said she quickly moves to the side, standing next to him.
If she had to tell the truth she would tell anyone that she was petrified. She wasn't a gunslinger. She was a rich girl from Ireland who never should have been here at all. She should be at home, but….she was also happy to be here. Next to Arthur.
He looks at her, curiosity in his eyes but nevertheless he hands her one of his pistols. She takes it and cocks it instantly. She did know how to shoot. Not very well but it would help.
"Arthur" says Dutch, quietly. "How...ho-"
"How did I survive? Well I can tell you it ain't no lack of trying on sheriff Gray's part. Or yours for that matter. You shouldn't let people on your payroll talk so much".
Molly looks shocked and so do many others, the rest of the men arriving as they hear what is being said.
"What are you talking about Arthur?" Asks Hosea, his hand going to his holster as he walks forward, not sure who was betraying who. Dutch makes to speak but is cut off by a look from Hosea.
Arthur lets out a little laugh.
"Ohh nothing Hosea. Just that Dutch sold me to the Grays. Told them about the bounty on my head. Sent me to talk to the sheriff and then let me spend a few days in one of their cells being tortured. Lucky for me, these hicks are stupid. Left the cell unlocked one night. Took off. Collapsed and was taken in by a nice trader who patched me up" he says as his hand slowly moves to his holster.
"This true Dutch?" Hosea asks, turning waiting to see Dutch's facial reaction. The man in question doesn't respond and instead Micah answers.
"He's lying. Dutch wouldn't do that. Arthur, he's always been a rat. Probably trying to split us up. We gotta stay strong folks. Let's kill him and his whore too" he says, his pistol being drawn instantly.
The sound of multiple revolvers clicking respond, all pointed at Micah and now Dutch.
Sean, Hosea, Lenny, Charles and Arthur and Molly take aim at Dutch, Micah, Bill and Javier. The four, obviously unready to respond.
"Whatever this was, whatever it is, it's over" Arthur says as he looks around smiling at the company he was keeping. Good people. All of them. What made him the happiest, was to feel Molly standing next to him her own revolver pointed at the men who betrayed everything they stood for once.
"Now, now, is this how it's all rewarded? All my hard work, all the trials I went through to keep us together? To betray me for this snake?"
"We ain't the ones who changed Dutch" Arthur says simply, the pain obvious in his voice. His own revolver is pointed at the man he once considered a father to him. "You did, and it's because this little weasel has been whispering in your ear" he adds pointing the pistol at Micah now.
"Easy there cowpoke, easy" the blonde haired man says in response. Dutch doesn't look at Arthur. Avoids his eyes. Hosea too for that matter. Instead he looks at Molly. "Molly, my dear, you can't be considering this...mutiny too?" He asks, false charm in his voice as if he believes she'll trot over to his side like a faithful dog.
She says nothing, her face emotionless, leading to Dutch avoiding her eyes as well.
"So. I guess that's it then?" asks John Marston, his revolver still in his holster.
"Yup. That's about it I'd say" comes Sean's response. Bill and Javier look deeply uncomfortable, moving away from Dutch, as much as the group surrounding them will allow them to.
"Well what do we do from here? The Van Der Linde gang is well and done with then?" asks Lenny who gets a pat on the shoulder from Hosea. "Afraid so kid. Afraid so. Not your fault though. So don't worry about it" he says before he fired a shot, killing Micah instantly as the bullet passes through his head. The blonde man falls to the floor, instantly dead. Dutch looks on in horror and Bill and Javier make a run for the trees fully abandoning their leader. Nobody fires at them. After all, better to just let them go.
Dutch looks down at his dead friends body and sighs , seeing that his fate was already sealed. "Is it worth anything if I say I'm sorry Arthur?" He asks honestly and when he doesn't receive a reply from the now stone faced man he sighs again and looks down. He puts his arms down and waits for the killing blow which is delivered by Arthur. A clean shot between the eyes and Dutch crumpled to the ground. Mary-Beth was the only one who had an overt reaction, the women having disobeyed orders and moved up to see what was happening.
Nobody moved to comfort the crying woman. Nobody moved at all.
Hosea was the first to speak. "We better divy up the money and...well...go our separate ways now. With Dutch dead we all have a chance at getting away" he says looking over at Arthur and Molly.
Arthur nods, his arm going around Molly's waist as they move back into the camp, walking towards their tents. There wasn't a dry eye left now when everyone realized that their family, this gang, that they had worked so hard to build was now dead. Gone.
Arthur? He didn't know what to feel. In the end though he was just happy he had Molly. "I'm sorry Arthur" she whispers into his ear, staying glued to his side. "It's alright Molly. Nothing for you to apologize for".
And he told her the truth. She didn't cause this. Dutch did. Maybe he wasn't always the most altruistic of people as he claimed. Maybe the Dutch who had sold Arthur down the river was the man he always was. Just hidden under the surface. They'd never know for sure now. It was well and truly over.
The gang found Dutch's hiding spot quick enough. And the money in it? Well it was a lot more than what was let on. What was left to do at divvying up the cash was to decide where to go from there.
Reverend Swanson was the first to leave. He just buried Dutch and Micah. Didn't say a word to anyone. Didn't even take his money. He just set off. Molly later heard that he wound up in New York, leading a congregation. He was a far cry from the drunk he once was but he never spoke to any in the gang again.
Charles Smith and Lenny Summers took their share and headed into Canada. Both thought that life would be easier for black men there and hoped to be able to open a small trading outpost.
John, Abigail and Jack took their lot and decided to settle in a place called Beecher's Hope not too far outside of Blackwater. John wanted to become a rancher and make his money the legal way. The last thing he said to Arthur and Hosea was that he'd always think of them as family and rode off in one of the wagons that they decided to take.
Arthur and Molly waved at the two as they advanced into the distance. That was the last time they saw the Marston's, the last view they got being that of little Jack's hand waving goodbye until they could no longer wee each other.
Tilly went off to St. Denis. Last anyone had heard she married a lawyer and was expecting her second child. Arthur and Molly would receive a letter years later saying so.
Sadie Adler decided that the outlaw life was the best course for her and struck out alone. She took a good amount of the gangs munitions and started a gang out of the Grizzlies using the burned remains of her and her husband's shack as a base of operations. They would raid and rob, steal and pillaged throughout the state of West Elizabeth and New Hannover. Eventually her bounty would exceed even Dutch's and eventually she and her gang would die in a vicious shootout on Mount Hagen against the United States Army and the Pinkerton Detective Agency. She would be buried where she fell.
Karen and Sean? Well, Arthur and Molly would be seeing a lot of them. The two couples were married together in Valentine, Pearson and Miss Grimshaw being the witnesses before they too went their separate ways, Susan to work in a newly established veterans hospital in St. Denis and Pearson to take over the general goods store in Rhodes.
After that, the two couples boarded a boat to Europe, under assumed names. Their destination? Dublin.
Eight Years Later
"Come on Arthur, I know you're bluffing you bloody Englishmen." comes the whispered tones of Sean Maguire as he holds his cards up closely to his face, the light of the lamp being too dim to fully illuminate the barn.
Arthur scowls in response, a similar predicament playing out on his face as he looks at the Irishman. "I told you dammit I ain't English" he says loudly prompting Sean to quickly shush him. "You crazy Morgan? They'll hear u…"
"Yeah. We heard you" comes the voice of Karen Maguire from the doorway to the barn. She uses a but older, but most would say even more beautiful than she was when running with the Van Der Linde gang.
Sean winces and slowly turns, his eyes landing on his wife. "Sweetheart, me and Arthur were uhh, well just.."
"Slacking off and playing cards. I can see that" she says, wincing as her hand goes to her pregnant belly. She turns to Arthur and smirks. "Your wife is looking for you Arthur. And I think if you keep playing cards with my idiot of a husband you'll be in trouble. Like he is now" she says, turning and glaring at the embarrassed Irishman.
He looks at his friend and shrugs. "How did we get so whipped Arthur? We used to be outlaws" Sean says, standing and going to his wife, his hands going to her waist and kissing her lips. Karen resists at first but as usual she relents and kisses him back. It was clear she loved the man. Just wasn't good at showing it.
Arthur throws his cards done and stretches, standing up and walking towards the door. "For the best anyway. I was bluffing" he says as he leans against the opposite door frame and looks towards his home. It was more Molly's than his. Her parents ancestral home but since she was an only child and her parents had willed it to her she wound up getting it. It was raining and dark. Par for the course in Ireland.
"I knew it" shouts Sean, who is angrily pulled back into an embrace by his...amorous wife. It was embarrassing for Arthur. Then again, he couldn't say that Molly wasn't the same way when she was pregnant. Then again she was like that when she wasn't pregnant.
"Whipped. Huh. Your wife didn't force you to convert" he says as he walks towards the house, not minding the rain. It was true. Arthur Morgan was dragged to the Catholic Church by his wife and received communion.
Sure he would've had to do that anyway, wanting to become accepted in Irish high society. Still, it was rather funny how much power the petite Irishwoman had over him.
He opens the door to his home, turning and shouting towards the barn.
"You two get home before anything huh? Don't need Karen getting sick" he says before closing the door knowing that those two wouldn't listen to him anyway. Sure he was a rich farmer but he wasn't exactly respected like he was as an outlaw. Perhaps it had a lot to do with his lack of revolvers now. Then again who really knew?
He isn't able to close the door before something small makes impact with his legs, wrapping their little arms around them. "Daddy" she says and Arthur melts as he always does, picking up the little girl. "Well hey there Sadie. What have you got going on?"
The little girl giggles and hugs her father. It was amazing how much she looked like Molly. Freckled and red haired. She was her father in many ways though. Stubborn and quiet. Most of the time. Her father was the only one who ever got her out of her shell. "Waiting for you and uncle Sean" she says nonchalantly, staying in her father's arms as he kicks off his boots.
That was another thing. Despite her insistence that "uncle Sean" was annoying, she always waited for him to come in and hung about him more than she probably should have. It was a secret from Molly but Sadie knew how to play Poker, courtesy of Sean.
"Ohh was you now?" He asks as he puts her down gently and she glues herself to his side, grasping his hand. Arthur just rolled his eyes but kept a hold of her hand nonetheless. "And where is mommy?" he asks making the little girl sigh. "She was taking care or Thomas" she says obviously not liking having to share her parents with her two month old younger brother. "And Grandpa Hosea. She was bringing him his dinner"
Hosea. He had come with them to Ireland wanting to spend his last few years with his surrogate son. He always joked that he wasn't long for this world but every time he said so he wound up living another ten years. Arthur was happy to have him here, taking care of him felt like paying back for all the years Hosea was there for him.
"Alright sweetie. How about you…."
"Arthur there you are. I was worried sick. You didn't bring your coat" comes the voice of Molly bursting into the hallway. She was holding Thomas against her, the boy comfortably swaddled and content. At this point he just smiled and watched everything with curiosity. Again Molly's bright red hair was to overpower Arthur's brown.
She rushes up, gently kissing him and rubbing the side of his face. "You're going to catch a cold Arthur Morgan" she says sternly and Arthur laughs, taking her free hand in his and kissing it. "Not with you on the lookout Mrs. Morgan. Not a chance" he says as he takes Thomas into his arms and smirks at the little boy.
"You'll be the death of me Arthur" she says, softly and with no malice as they all walk into the parlor and sit down, enjoying some private family time. "Hosea alright?" He asks, setting himself down on a couch and holding Thomas as Sadie sits next to her mother quietly, looking at Thomas jealousy.
Molly turns and begins to fix Sadie's unkempt hair. "I swear my girl, I fixed your hair this morning. Why can't you keep it nice?" She asks to which Sadie just winces, trying to move away from her mother's probing fingers.
"Ohh stay still" she says, never being one to tell or get angry no matter how disagreeable the kids were being.
She turns to Arthur, fixing a strand of Sadie's hair. "Hosea is fine sweetie. Just tired. Had him on the porch too long today I think but he loves the sun so much" she says to which Arthur waves her off. "Ahh it's alright. Hosea is fine. Let him enjoy the sun"
Molly just smiles returning to Sadie, always fussing over her. Arthur just admires his wife. Her red hair had filled a bit, some turning to grey. Her face had become a little more angular, lines of worry etched in as she worked just as hard as Arthur at managing her family's large estate. She was always skinny. Arthur always implored her to eat a bit more but she always brushed off his worry. She had made it clear. She was one to fuss not to be fussed over.
"Alright Sadie I'll leave you alone" she says, finally relenting as the pouring little girl now smiles, happy that her mother would not longer be smothering her. Molly leans in and kisses her cheek. "How about you go play sweetie? I have to feed Thomas" she says and Sadie rushes off, wanting to play with her dolls. After the little girl exits Molly quickly moves over towards Arthur and takes Thomas, undoing her shirt and exposing a breast for him to suckle. The baby attached instantly and Molly just rubs his head, his small tuft of hair being a constant focus of affection for the woman. Arthur just smiles. Breastfeeding had lost its eroticism. Now? It was just something. Not that he still didn't find his wife attractive, she was damn near a goddess to him.
He places his arm around her shoulders and smiles at his wife. Before long she's smiling back and their lips press against each other lovingly.
"Everything is finally going to be fine Arthur. Have faith in that love"