Willa knew she was coming up on the Elysian Pool before she could see it; the smell emanating from the water was enough to make anyone in a half-mile radius aware of its presence. It had a cloying mineral smell, coppery and sulfuric, that set her teeth on edge and gave her a slight headache. She'd noticed it first the day before when her and Arthur had ridden south to meet up with Sadie, but the both of them had been much too preoccupied to mention it.
It was too bad the place was so foul, because it was a beautiful spot. She eyed the sparkling water and the brief thought of trying to go for a swim crossed her mind, but she instinctively knew that it would be a bad idea. So she kept Tulip moving northwards, crossing the little wooden bridge at the southern tip of the Pool and heading towards the trail that would take her back up into the hills of Roanoke Ridge.
She clicked her teeth and jerked up on the reins when she reached the top, coming face to face with five Pinkerton agents spread out where the trail she was on met the road that would lead her back to Beaver Hollow.
They had a wagon and horses resting off to the side of the road, and each man had a rifle at the ready. One of them immediately raised a hand and hailed her, as if she didn't already know where her attention should be focused. "Hey! You there!"
Willa let one hand drop from the reins to settle beside her hip, close to her pistol in case she ended up needing it. She glanced around at the other agents before settling her gaze on the one who was now approaching. "Can I help you, sir?"
He came to a stop a few feet away, looking up at her from under the rim of his bowler hat. "My name is Agent Simms, with the Pinkerton Detective Agency. We're searching these hills for a real nasty group of bandits that escaped St. Denis. You hear about the massacre down there a month or so ago, miss?"
Willa drew her brows down and shook her head, hoping the agent wouldn't see how she was trembling in her saddle. "No, sir. I live up in Roanoke Valley. Not much reason to travel that far south."
"You heard any mention of the van der Linde Gang? Seen anything unusual up in these woods? They're a nasty sort, miss. Animals."
"Only thing unusual I've seen are those Murfree boys. Freaks, all of 'em. I'd be more concerned about them, if I were you. Sir."
"Hm." Agent Simms slung his rifle over his shoulder and reached toward one of his back pockets. Willa's fingers twitched for the butt of her gun, but she relaxed and let out a breath when he only produced some folded up papers. "Still, take a look at these if you would. Each one of 'em's worth more than a few thousand apiece, if that's any indication as to the heinous crimes they've committed." He unfolded the papers and passed them up to her.
They were bounty posters, and Dutch's was the very first one in the stack. $10,000 for him, and that was only if someone brought him in dead. The reward was $12,000 if anyone could bring him in alive. She pursed her lips and let out a low whistle. The gang would be free and clear forever with that kind of money spread out between them.
The second one made her breath catch in her throat, because it was for Arthur. Wanted Dead or Alive for murder, bank robbery, evading the authorities, thievery, assault...the list was a long one. $8,000 for him dead, $10,000 alive. She felt her heart sinking into the pit of her stomach and had to slip that page to the side. Micah, Bill, and Javier were next, and their bounties were only just slightly less than Arthur's.
She cleared her throat and tucked them all back into the stack, shaking her head. "Don't recognize any of these men. Sorry, sir. May be you're chasing the wrong leads up here."
Simms' brow knitted as he took the posters back from her, neatly re-folding them for deposit back into his pocket. "We have very good reason to doubt that, ma'am." He fell silent for a loaded moment, hard eyes searching her.
She swallowed, wondering if he'd heard that small hitch in her breath, seen the papers trembling in her hands though there was no breeze to speak of at the moment.
Suddenly he sighed, glancing back toward his fellows to shake his head before returning his gaze to her. "Well, miss, I'd get home if I were you, and stay there. Or at least, don't go riding out alone again in the future. There's a reason the feds are willing to dole out so much for those bastards, if you'll pardon my language."
She simply nodded, picking the reins back up. "I understand, sir. Usually my husband rides with me, but he's awful sick just at the moment."
He hummed absentmindedly and took a step back, extending a hand to silently let her know she could pass.
Willa clicked her tongue and urged Tulip forward, passing through the group of men to turn left and follow the road back toward Beaver Hollow. She skirted wide though, going further north and west to cross the river before doubling back and approaching the camp from the western side of the ravine.
Sean was the first person she saw as she ascended the track, stood in front of the scout fire on guard duty. "MacGuire. How you gettin' on?"
He glanced up at her, letting his rifle dangle at his side while he took a drag from the stub of a cigarette. "S'been better days, love, t'at's for sure. Feels like t'is whole camp's full o' right smug bastards just at the moment."
Her brows drew down and she slid off the saddle, moving to rummage in the saddlebags to get Tulip something of a lunch. "Ain't Dutch supposed to be the one who's so good at rallyin' you lot?"
Sean let out a humorless scoff. "Well, seems he's got greasy ole Micah Bell to do it for 'im now. He's been goin' round, whispering nasty t'ings in folk's ears 'bout how your boy Morgan's the one stirrin' the pot all about. Tellin' folk Dutch 'as finally lost it. I'd watch yourself, if I was you, love."
She scowled, whipping her head around to look at him from where she'd been feeding Tulip a stack of oatcakes. "That's goddamn ridiculous. Arthur's the most loyal man I ever met."
Sean nodded, half-turning to flick the stub of the cigarette into the scout fire behind him. "Aye, I know. Like a knight of ole imperial England, t'at one is. But, seems as if Javier and Bill ain't so inclined to disagree. S'why I'm sayin' watch your back. Ole Micah's got some words to say 'bout yourself as well."
Willa bared her teeth in a sneer, brushing off her hands to get the crumbs off as Tulip nickered rather happily beside her. "That goddamn bastard. This ain't the time for him to be stirrin' shit up! I just ran into a bunch of Pinkertons not too far from here, lookin' for all of 'em! And after what happened at Lakay...I heard it weren't nice."
Sean tilted his head. "No...all spite and shite is what t'at was. Opened fire on us wit' a bloody army-issue Gatling gun, they did. We'd 'ave been mincemeat if Art'ur and Mrs. Adler 'adn't stuck t'eir necks out. And here's old Micah, tellin' folk him and Marston were the ones makin' t'ings...difficult for us."
"Yeah, well...what's that tell you, Sean? Micah's only ever been in this for himself, that's plain as the day is long! I ain't known any of you for all that much of a time, and I ain't exactly the sharpest arrow, but I've seen enough to know that much. We all need to watch out for him. Not just me."
Sean sighed and reached up to scratch the ginger scruff on his chin. "I know, believe me I ain't arguin' with you. Just uh...t'ought I'd share the information along."
Willa dipped her head, loosely fisting Tulip's reins in one hand so that she could lead the mare over to the hitching posts. "Yeah. I get it. Thank you."
Abigail approached her as she made her way towards the proper entrance of the camp, and she looked up at the younger woman as she looped Tulip's reins over one of the hitching posts.
"Willa! Is...is John-?"
"Sadie and Arthur are off to get him as we speak, Abigail. Said they only needed two for the job, so they sent me back to let you know."
Abigail sighed, glancing down at where her hands worried themselves against her abdomen. "Okay. I...thank you. For goin'. The boy's been..."
Willa let out a small snort, putting up a hand to scratch her nails at Tulip's mottled gray and silver neck. "I'm sure Jack's been worried sick. Anyway, how are you? Sam ain't been too much of a nuisance, has he?"
Abigail shook her head. "I've...been better. These last few months ain't been kind to anybody. But Sam's...well, he's quiet. Kieran's been doin' well with him, keepin' him off over here with the horses. And Jack's been real glad to have somebody closer to his own age to play with."
Willa nodded. "Quiet ain't a bad thing for him to be around here. I guess I should go check on him. You seen him lately?"
Abigail nodded off toward Pearson's chuck wagon. "They was off gettin' somethin' to eat a few minutes ago. Takin' a break from playin' swords, I think."
Willa hummed in acknowledgement, letting her hand drop from Tulip's neck to settle on her hip. "Alright. Well hopefully Sadie and Arthur will be back with John before nightfall. Are...are Dutch and Micah around?"
"No. They rode off for Annesburg again this mornin'. Dutch still wouldn't even talk to me about John. All he's been sayin' is that he's 'got a plan.' Won't speak of what it is, though..." Abigail let her mouth drop into a worried grimace, looking quite a bit older than her twenty-two years just then.
Willa sighed, reaching out to place a hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "Hey. Don't matter what his plan is, 'cause Arthur and Sadie are takin' care of it. Okay? The best thing we can do right now is keep our heads down. I know Micah ain't fond of me, and it seems that ire of his is reachin' out towards Arthur and John too, and you by association, I imagine. So just keep your ears open. And...think about what I said to you, about cuttin' loose."
Abigail nodded, crossing her arms. "I know. I been thinkin' about it. Just ain't sure, with how loyal John is to Dutch. He talks a lot, but if the time comes...I still ain't sure he'd take an opportunity to run."
Willa's mouth quirked. "I know exactly how you feel..."
Abigail's gaze rose to meet hers again, and the two women shared a clear moment of understanding. They both wanted something different. They both wanted their men to want something different. But Willa was still unsure of the confidence she had in Arthur. Things had come so far already; even if he truly did long for a different life with her, would he be ready to split off on his own and disappear into some far corner of the country before it was too late?
She'd told him her loyalty was to him and no one else. But his loyalty was being split two ways, and he wasn't making it a hard thing to see. He'd told her he loved her, and she believed him in that, but his love for Dutch and the things he and his gang represented seemed to run far deeper.
She sighed and excused herself from Abigail, making her way towards the cook fire to see if the boys were still there. The sound of a throat loudly clearing off to her left startled her, and she looked over to see Bill Williamson with his hands hooked over his gun belt, staring at her rather pointedly.
She blinked, faltering and stopping in her tracks. "Bill..."
"Miss Thorne. Pleasure to have you back with us," he replied with sarcasm dripping from every word.
Willa chewed her lip for a moment, letting one of her hands rest atop the holster at her hip. "If you got somethin' to say, you might as well say it. I'm turnin' Arthur against you, is that it?"
"Well, you's the one said it. Is it true?"
Her eyes narrowed. "I know the two of us ain't got along quite so well as other folks, but I did think we had some kind of a mutual respect. I should've known better, I guess. If a cretin like Micah Bell's all it takes to change your opinion of one of your friends so goddamn easy."
Bill scoffed, taking an ambling step closer to her. "I seen the way you two is together ever since you first came to camp. All whispers and lingerin' looks. You're makin' him go soft on us. Arthur used to be a man a fella could look up to. Now look at him!"
"I ain't made him do nothin'! He's the one convinced me to stay and try to help you fools out of this goddamn mess you got yourselves into! Micah Bell is a goddamn liar and don't you believe elsewise for a second, Bill."
Bill poked his tongue into his cheek for a second, regarding her with something that looked like disdain. "We don't need no woman's help. You and that Sadie, playin' at bein' men...it ain't right!"
Willa narrowed her eyes at him. "I ain't playin' at bein' nothin'. And neither is she. You don't want the help of another gun, that's just fine. But don't you forget it's Dutch's decision to make, not yours. And he said if I fall into line, we ain't gonna have no problems. So are we? Gonna have a problem?"
Bill's mouth turned down into a sour frown and he huffed, but couldn't think of much else to say. He just growled and waved a hand at her dismissively. "Just know I got my eyes on you, woman!"
"Yeah, Yeah. You should have your eyes on those goddamn Pinkertons!" She yelled after him as he walked away from her. "Asshole..." she mumbled and resumed her journey toward the cook fire.
"Miss Willa!" Sam came barreling towards her from where the wash tubs were set up on the side of the chuck wagon, little Jack in tow just behind him.
"Hey, boys! Slow down, slow down!" She put her hands out to encourage the two to stop, scared to death Jack might trip with the stick she assumed he'd been using as a sword clutched tightly in one of his fists.
"Miss Mina! Sam showed me how to cut somebody's kneecaps!" He reared the stick back and slapped Sam behind the legs with it, and the older boy yelped and hopped away.
"Don't do it to me, Jack! I told you to keep that 'tween us anyhow!" Sam whipped back around to hiss at the younger boy, gingerly curling his legs up one at a time to try and stifle the burn.
Willa snorted, planting her hands on her hips. "Sam, I...Jesus, I'm glad you're makin' friends 'n all, but really? First of all, where you gonna get a real sword to take out somebody's knees with? Second, you gotta cut, not just whack the back of their legs. And third, kneecaps is on the front."
Sam blinked and frowned, reaching up to scratch at where his suspenders were still a bit tight at his shoulder. "I...huh, I guess you're right. Sorry, Miss Willa."
She shook her head, looking back and forth between the two boys. Finally her gaze landed on Sam. "Can I take you out of camp for a bit? I'd like to show you some things, see if you know more'n just whackin' people's knees."
Sam blinked. "Well, okay. W-what do you wanna show me?"
"Well, camp's gonna need food, so you should learn to hunt. And I'd like to teach you some things with that knife. And maybe a gun, unless Mikey already showed you everything you need to know..."
Sam shook his head. "I never shot none of those guns. Some of the older boys did, but..." he shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. "They always kinda scared me, I guess..."
Willa nodded. "And they should. But you should know how to use one, all the same. So, let's go learn some things." She nodded her head back toward the hitching posts.
"Can I come? I don't like this place..." Jack looked back and forth between them almost pleadingly, poking that stick down into the dirt between his feet.
Willa sighed and shook her head. "I don't think so, Jack. Your mama would be worried sick, and you ain't old enough to be worryin' about this nonsense anyway. Knowin' how to fight is for old, stupid people, and you ain't either of those things."
Jack's mouth curved down into a frown and he huffed out a plaintive little sigh, letting the stick drop into the dirt. "I guess..."
She grimaced, patting a hand on his shoulder in a gesture meant to try and be reassuring. "You keep practicing with that stick though, huh? Maybe when we get back, Sam can show you some new tricks."
Jack looked back up at her with something of a smile. "Okay!"
"Alright. C'mon then, Sam." She led him back toward where Tulip was hitched up, giving him a hand to help him up into the saddle before mounting up herself.
She chose to head west, away from Roanoke Ridge and back towards the northern reaches of the Heartlands. Safer that way, she figured; away from the Murfrees, and hopefully the Pinkertons as well. They passed down through the base of the Grizzlies, making their way around O'Creagh's Run and then southwards, chatting the whole while.
Willa found it was rather a nice distraction talking to someone whose sole concern wasn't when they were all going to be hunted down and killed, or if they wouldn't all destroy themselves before the Pinkertons even got the chance.
She found out Sam had been on his own for almost two years, and that his parents had emigrated from France just before he was born. They'd both apparently come down with TB, and it was a wonder he hadn't caught it as well. But that had left him alone, with no family and nowhere else to go. So he'd fallen in with the street urchins of St. Denis, playing innocent eyes and ears for Angelo Bronte and picking pockets in the park and in the markets.
"Hey! You there!"
Willa whipped her head towards the right, looking off the road to where that voice had just hailed them from. She saw an older man sitting on the ground propped up against a boulder, and her eyes went momentarily wide. It looked like one of his legs had been torn off at the knee, but there was no blood pooling beneath him.
"Can you help me, miss?"
She guided Tulip off the trail, letting one hand rest close to the pistol at her hip. "What seems to be the trouble, sir?"
The man bowed his head and sighed. "My goddamn horse got spooked and run off."
She furrowed her brows, still wary, casting her gaze down at the man's stump for a few moments. "Are you hurt?" She felt Sam leaning over from behind her, getting his own good look at the stranger.
"Well, not too bad at least...but he took my damn leg!"
Willa's brows went up. "Well that is a...predicament. Which way did he go?"
The man lifted an arm to point past the road, back toward the little lake called O'Creagh's Run. "He went that way, I think. His name's Buell."
"Buell?"
"Second time a prick named Buell cost me a leg...pardon my language."
Willa blinked down at the old man, dropping the reins to reach up and scratch underneath her hat. "Eh...?"
"Buell was my general, when I lost it. Anyway, if you see an angry bastard of a horse, with my wooden leg, well...I'd be real grateful." The man bowed his head, seemingly a bit ashamed at having to submit to asking a stranger for the help.
Willa sighed, glancing over her shoulder at Sam before pulling on the reins to signal Tulip into a turn. "We'll see if we can find him for you. Just uh...stay put, I guess."
The man nodded and grumbled what sounded like a thank you, and she tapped her heels to urge Tulip into a trot to cross the road and head down the hill towards the little lake.
"We're helpin' that fella?" she heard Sam venture from behind her.
"Sure. He seems alright. He could've tried to shoot us both back there, but he didn't. It's good to be suspicious, don't get me wrong. But...I don't know, sometimes it's good to give folks a chance. Ya know how Mr. Morgan and me met?"
"No..."
"I had a bounty on my head, and he was the bounty hunter. He caught me, trussed me all up, was gonna bring me back to the sheriff. Then we got in a shootout, and I helped him and Charles fight off some real nasty men. He still wanted to take me in, but...he trusted me when I told him it was all a mistake." She didn't include the part where she'd paid him the money the bounty was worth, figuring this could maybe turn into some kind of a lesson about trying to see the good in folks.
"He didn't have to, but he gave me a chance. And I owe him a lot for that."
Sam's mouth quirked, and his hands squeezed her waist a little tighter. "Are you gonna get in more shootouts?"
Willa blinked, glancing back over her shoulder. "Well..." she sighed before continuing. "Probably. This gang, they ain't uh...they're a little more serious than those boys you used to run with in St. Denis."
"Oh! Miss Willa, look, down by the water! There's a horse!" Sam's attention was easily diverted as he pointed past her arm toward a beautiful, sandy colored stallion cropping grass down by the shallows of the lake. His coat practically reflected gold in the sunlight, and something told her that he must be Buell.
"C'mon. You take the reins for a bit, okay? Get some practice ridin' a horse while we're out here. Let's see if I can go fetch him." She threw a leg up and over and slid down off the saddle, dropping to the ground and carefully making her way towards the big horse.
He put his head up indignantly, stamping a hoof into the mud and staring her down with one large, icy blue eye. And there was a wooden leg caught in the stirrup just at the joint of the knee, so she knew it must be Buell.
Willa put her hands up, slowing her approach even more. "Hey, there. Buell, right? It's okay. You can't...can't go buckin' a fella like that..." she tried to coo to the stallion, but she stopped in her tracks when he reared up in front of her, whinnying loudly.
"Hey, now!" She glanced backwards, trying to catch Sam's attention. "Hey. Sam. Grab me some oatcakes from the saddlebags?" She returned her gaze to Buell quickly, continuing to hold her hands out even though she had no idea if that would work to placate the beast.
She took a few slow steps backwards, angling one of her hands back by her shoulder without breaking eye contact with Buell as she heard the sounds of rummaging behind her. "Just tap her with your heels. She'll come towards me."
She nodded when she felt the package of oatcakes being placed into her open palm. She lowered the hand, making sure to crinkle the packaging so that the horse could hear it. Maybe she'd get lucky, and he might be a bastard with a predilection for snacks. A small grin crossed her face as Buell angled his head, ears flicking forward as he stared at her.
He took a cautious step forward, and she crinkled the package again. "Yeah, I see. Way to a man's heart is through his stomach, eh? Come here." She held up the oatcakes, slowly removing one from the package and watching as he took a few more steps toward her, stopping only once to shake his head and nicker.
When he was close enough she broke the cake in half, holding it out on her flattened palm. "More where that came from, I promise..."
He lipped up the cake, tail swishing almost happily as she glanced back at Sam. "Pull the reins to the right, and she'll turn around for you. You think you can ride her back up the hill okay?"
"I think so. I just...tap my heels again?"
Willa nodded, pleased the boy seemed to be picking it up quickly. "She'll follow me anyway, but that's right. Nice and easy. I'm gonna try and lead him with the food, and we'll see how it goes."
She held the other half of the oatcake out and started walking, and lo and behold Buell came right along behind her. She couldn't help smirking to herself as they made their way back to the old war vet, Sam on one side of her looking well pleased with himself for riding a horse all by himself and Buell on the other side, stopping indignantly every once in a while until she gave him more pieces of the oatcake.
Willa glanced ahead as they crossed back over the road at the top of the hill, waving a hand at the old man. "We found him!"
The vet propped himself up with his hands, face brightening noticeably at their approach. "Well, ain't you some good folks! Eh..."
"Wilhelmina. And this is Sam. And this is, uh...quite a bastard you got here." She let out a low chuckle as she let Buell lip the last oatcake up from her palm, reaching out to gently run a hand down his flaxen mane. He snorted and sidestepped away from her, causing her to respond with a scowl.
The old man cackled, using the boulder he'd been propped against to lever himself up to his one good foot. "Hamish Sinclair. Yeah, he's a great horse...aside from when the devil's got him. Eh, you wanna hand me that leg there, please? And while you're at it, give old Buell a kick for me, would ya?"
Willa quickly frowned back towards Hamish as she gingerly tried to pry the leg out from where it was hooked over the stirrup.
"Ah, I'm only kiddin'. Thank you..." He reached out to take the leg from her after she'd finally gotten the thing loose and walked over to hand it to him. He bent down to reattach the prosthetic. "Weren't but a snake that spooked him..."
Hamish stood up, flexing with the limb before taking a few steps forward with it. He grabbed for Buell's reins, putting a heavy hand on top of the horse's muzzle. "Ya know, I'm sorry I ain't got much to pay you with..."
Willa shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest.
Hamish hauled himself up into Buell's saddle, situating himself before looking back down at her. "Hey, you and the boy like fishin'? You two could come with me some day, I know some pretty good spots."
She thought about it for a moment. "Well, I ain't ever caught nothin' bigger than a fry, seems like, but the whole reason I brought the boy out this way was to try and teach him some hunting and whatnot. Might be good to have a real experienced teacher sometime."
Hamish laughed and nodded his head. "Well I'm great at both, so between the two of us we'd teach him some things okay. My cabin is right over on the other side of O'Creagh's Run, there. Feel free to stop by some time." He leaned down over Buell's withers then, speaking towards the stallion's ear. "You throw me again you old, dumb bastard..." He shook his head and clicked his teeth, and Buell trotted off like they'd never had an altercation in the first place.
Willa sighed and watched the old fella ride off for a moment before turning back to Sam. "Well, what do you think? You still up for learnin' a thing or two about hunting, or you had it for the day?"
Sam had obliged her, and they spent a few more hours that afternoon hunting some small and easy game; by the end of it they had a few rabbits and several good-sized pheasant strung from Tulip's saddle, and Willa hoped that would be enough to appease Pearson for at least a little while before someone got a chance to hunt down a few deer or a moose.
They made their way back to camp in the evening and Willa sent Sam off to bring their game to the chuck wagon. She saw The Count and Baylock as she hitched Tulip at the posts, but there was no sign of Bob or Llamrei so she could only assume the other two weren't back yet.
Suddenly she heard hoof beats approaching from up the trail, and she whipped around to see Sadie cresting the rise, John in his prison stripes sitting behind her. Arthur followed along close behind them, and she found herself letting out a heavy breath. "You got him!"
Arthur pulled up on Rei's reins to come to a stop beside her, while Sadie continued on into the camp, a pleased little smirk plastered on her face.
"'Course we got 'im." Arthur slid down off the saddle and immediately approached Willa in almost the same step, pulling her by the waist off behind the horses for a bit of privacy. He swiped that cavalry hat off her head and buried his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply. "Bad business though, the whole lot of it. I am mighty glad to see you..."
Her lips parted and she clasped her arms around him tightly, pulling him flush against her. "Glad to see you too, cowboy..."
"John!"
Arthur and Wilhelmina were startled out of their moment by Dutch's furious yell from the other side of the camp. "Aw, shit. C'mon..." Arthur turned away from her and grabbed up her hand in his own, leading her towards where Sadie and John had dismounted.
"What are you doin' here!?"
"Good to see you too, partner..." John took a few steps towards Dutch, who stalked by the main campfire stiffly. The two men met in the middle, Abigail standing defiantly beside her newly returned spouse while Micah stood at Dutch's back, leering at the two of them from over his shoulder.
"I meant I hadn't sent for you yet..."
Arthur pulled away from Willa suddenly, walking forward toward the other four stood in the center of camp. "I went."
Dutch's tone lowered ominously as his gaze slid to Arthur. "But I said that-"
"Yeah, I know what you said. I felt different." He sauntered up between Dutch and John, but his shoulders were tense like he was maybe expecting a fight.
Dutch narrowed his eyes at Arthur, an incredulous look passing over his features. "Is that so?"
Arthur finally planted himself squarely in front of Dutch, curling his thumbs over his gun belt and looking at his mentor straight on. "Yes."
Wilhelmina moved back beside Abigail, fists clenching at her sides as she watched the men bristle at each other.
Dutch leaned in slightly. "And when springin' John brings the law down on all of us, what then, Arthur?"
"Well then I guess we'll have another fight on our hands..."
"Loyalty, Arthur, it ain't..." Dutch narrowed his eyes, gaze dropping somewhere off behind the man he'd called his son. "I had...a goddamn plan!" His voice rose and cracked as he caught Arthur's eyes again, one of his fists clenching in the air.
Suddenly Dutch flicked his eyes back toward John. "John! John...you are my brother. You are my son. I was coming for you..."
John clenched one of his own fists at his side, taking a step toward Dutch. "They...they was talkin' of hangin' me, Dutch!" Abigail suddenly made to press forward from beside him, and both John and Willa put hands out to stop her.
Dutch's gaze flicked back and forth between them. "They was talking. They was talking..." Dutch spread his hands at his sides, taking a few steps back from the little group gathered in the center of camp. "And now they may come and hang us all..."
Micah stood with his hands curled around his belt, shaking his head at the lot of them with a condescending frown smeared on his face. He took a few steps backwards to follow Dutch, who had turned to storm off back to the privacy of his tent.
They all stood there for a moment before Abigail turned and took John by his arm. Before leading him away, she looked back at Arthur and then Sadie, nodding her head to them both gratefully. "Thank you. Thank you both. C'mon..." She pulled him toward his tent and left the others standing there.
Arthur kicked one of his boots at the ground sullenly and turned away, grumbling. Willa moved towards him, extending a hand to grab his attention. "Arthur, there's somethin' we should talk about..."
He whipped his head up and suddenly snatched her up by her wrist, pulling her off toward the scout fire. "C'mon..."
Willa blinked, stumbling a bit behind him before finding her footing and striding to keep up with him. "Where are we-?"
"I just need some goddamn space." He stopped suddenly, like he only just realized he might have been too rough with her. His hand shied away and he looked almost embarrassed as he gazed down at her from under the brim of his old gambler hat. "Please..."
"I..." Her voice trailed off and all she could do was nod, grabbing for his fingers again and letting him lead her down the dirt trail past the scout fire and into the gloom of the forest. It was just about fully dark now, and it took a bit for her eyes to adjust to the lack of light, but she was pretty sure she knew what he was after.
Willa sensed the same coiled tension within him now that she'd sensed that night after he'd gone to rob the poker tournament on that riverboat; he was wound up, still spoiling for a fight, needed to unleash that energy in some sort of a physical way. She wondered at how much pure restraint he'd shown that night she'd thrown herself at him, knowing he was strong enough to take whatever he wanted even if she hadn't been offering it up. But he'd flatly refused, as if it was inconceivable; though admittedly, things were different now.
Suddenly her mind cleared for a moment and she remembered that she'd needed to tell him something. "Arthur, listen, I saw Pinkertons on my way back to camp this morni-"
Willa found the words dying on her lips when he spun her around in front of him and backed her right up against a tree. She could just see the darker line of the trail a ways off behind him; she hadn't even noticed he'd led her off of it and into the forest.
His mouth came down on hers, hot and slick as he begged for entry and wasted no time setting to work at the buttons of her blouse.
She let out a muffled moan against him, not knowing what to do with her hands for a moment. She'd known, or rather had an inclination as to what he wanted, but he was very eager, indeed; almost surprisingly so. She felt the hard line in his trousers pressing against her belly and she instinctively pushed herself forward against him, finally bunching her fingers into the fabric of his shirt right at his waistband and pulling him against her.
He growled into her mouth as she grinded up against him, pulling away only so far as he could mumble out, "don't wanna think 'bout Pinkertons right now...just want you...just need...somethin' that actually feels right..." He let out a few heavy breaths against her collar as her blouse fell open beneath him, swiftly moving his hands down to unclasp her gun belt and toss it aside on the ground.
Willa exhaled a heavy sigh against the top of his head, nodding her own up and down to encourage him. "Yes..." She felt that heat building up inside the pit of her belly, felt like she'd do just about anything for him after hearing those words tumble from his lips. It did feel right when they were together. Her hands wandered down to his belt, letting it drop around his feet a few moments later before starting at the buttons of his trousers.
Hers were already undone, and she gasped at the touch of his fingers between her legs, snaking in underneath the fabric to paw at her needily. She moaned quietly as his other hand tugged at her waistband, sliding her trousers down her legs as far as he could reach. His palm smoothed up the outside of her thigh and she shivered against him, tilting her head back against the rough bark of the tree as the fingers of his other hand continued their ministrations. "Oh, Jesus..."
Arthur buried his face into the crook of her neck, unable to help bucking his hips against where his hand was stuck between them. He groaned achingly low as he felt the slickness around his fingers, easily slipping two of them inside her as she gasped again just above his ear. His lips cracked into a crooked grin when she bucked her own hips down against his hand. "Oh, that's it. That's a girl..."
She was finally able to gather enough of herself to push his suspenders from his shoulders and work his trousers down, freeing him from where they'd become much too tight. She took him, heavy and hot in her hand, stroking her thumb against him before giving him the friction he so desired.
It was a frenzy for a few more minutes, their rutting and rubbing against each other like two young, foolish lovers just discovering what the sinful things were they could do to each other. Arthur finally pried himself away from her, panting as he knelt down, trailing kisses down her thigh until he hit fabric again.
He reached down to wrap his hands around one of her boots, looking back up at her with hooded eyes to ask her permission. She looked down and gave him a sheepish half-smile, huffing out a little sound of consent. She was still surprised that he'd stop in the middle just to double-check that it was all still okay.
He lifted her foot from the ground and slid the boot off, then moved to do the same with the other. He was back up against her in no time, hot against her belly as his palms smoothed up over the swell of her hips and toward her waist.
She worked at kicking the trousers off her legs, stepping out of them once they'd pooled down around her ankles. The air was cooling off rapidly since night had fallen, and she felt goosebumps breaking out across the sensitive skin, shivering against the heat of Arthur's firm body on one side and the cool, rough bark of the tree behind her.
She reached up to grab his face in her hands, making him look down at her. "Do you want me, Arthur...?"
He swallowed before a throaty "yes" tumbled from his mouth and he was on her again, using one hand to coax one of her thighs up against his waist as he pressed her into that tree. He kissed her again before mumbling it like a mantra against her lips. "Yes..."
She threaded her fingers up into his hair, arching her back and pressing against him. "Then what are you waitin' for...?"
He pulled back, a growl of acknowledgement rumbling through his chest as he leaned down and scooped her up under her butt, leaving her no choice but to squeal and wrap her legs around his waist as he brought her back up against that tree. He cleared his throat thickly, lips brushing against the sensitive spot where her ear met her neck. "Think you'd...be so kind as to lend a hand, sweetheart...?"
She tilted her head back again and muttered some kind of affirmative, tongue darting across her teeth as she brushed her fingers against the length of him once more before curling them around him and helping him line himself up where he needed to be.
She felt all the muscles in his arms tense up, shoulders hunching as he pushed forward, burying himself, pinning her up against that tree with nothing but the strength of his grip holding her up. They both let out sharp breaths at the same time, then his mouth was on hers again as he was moving, rolling his hips into her and pulling hers against his at the same time.
Willa broke the contact to tilt her head back, closing her eyes and groaning as she pulled at his hair. "Christ, you better not ask me if I wanna stop...!"
Arthur erupted in a breathy chuckle, pausing to press his lips to the exposed skin of her neck, mouth hot where there had only been the cool breath of the night air a moment before. She gasped again, clutching at his shoulder with her other hand.
"I love you, you know that? No matter what happens...mmn...!" His brows furrowed as he pulled her against himself particularly roughly, drinking in the sound of her moans just above his ear.
Willa bit her lip, clutching him tightly as he rutted her up into that tree, feeling a flush creep over her as those words spilled from his lips, losing her tight restraint on the traitorous thoughts floating unsaid at the tip of her own tongue. "Tell me you'll run with me! Please...!"
"I will, I will, you know I will...when the time comes..." His fingers dug into the flesh under her thighs as a warning shudder ran through him, hips stuttering once or twice against the heat of her, reveling in the feel of her.
"Ah!" She cried out, throwing her head back against the tree once more as that blinding heat began building at her very core. It bubbled and boiled, simmering up in response to the way only he could touch her.
She kept one hand securely clamped around the back of his neck, snaking the other one down between them to give herself that final little nudge. She knew what that stuttering of his meant, and with the way he was going like a man starved, she wanted to keep up. She lifted her eyes to meet his, pulling his head down for another desperate kiss, tongue tracing against his teeth as he groaned against her.
He pulled back suddenly, glistening with a sheen of sweat in the dim moonlight, hanging his head and nuzzling himself back into the crook of her neck, almost like he was hiding his face from her. "Say it. Say it for me, please..."
She gasped again, feeling that euphoric boiling-over sensation, back arching up against him as far as she could go. Between her quiet moans she managed to mutter thickly into his hair, "I love you. I love you, Arthur. Only you. Only you...!"
She felt his shoulders heave and his fingers tightened underneath her with enough force to probably bruise as he let out a shuddering groan against her skin, and she was smacking her head back against the tree, trying to stifle her own moans as his thrusts stilted and became shallower, and a few moments later they were still except for the rapid rising and falling of their chests as they panted in lungfuls of air.
Willa reached up to gently run her fingers back through his hair, pressing her lips against it in between breaths. Finally, he picked his head up and very gently eased her back down to her feet, slipping away from the angelic warmth of her to reach down and tug his pants back up.
She had to lean back against that tree for a minute, feeling like her legs were a bit too wobbly to trust standing on just at the moment. She watched Arthur intently as he crouched quietly in the darkness, picking up her discarded clothing before tapping one of her legs briefly and glancing up at her.
She blinked and tentatively lifted one foot, watching with an odd fluttering in her chest as he gently coaxed one leg of her trousers on over her foot before waiting for her to place that one back on the ground and lift the other. His fingers took hold of either side of the waistband, sliding the pants smoothly upwards in a slow and intimate gesture until she was well clothed again.
When he was standing back at his full height he leaned down to press his lips to her forehead as she did up the buttons on her trousers. She hummed into his chest quietly, leaning forward against him. "What now...?"
"Now we go back. Get some sleep. See what tomorrow brings. I...thank you. For..." Arthur cleared his throat and suddenly shook his head, taking a step back from her so that he could button her blouse back up. He was thankful the darkness would hide the painful blush that had crept onto his cheeks.
She glanced down at his hands for a few moments before looking back up at him, brow knitting as a shadow crossed her weary features. "For what...?"
His jaw worked for a moment before he did up the last button, and suddenly he was turning away and reaching back down to grab their belts up off the ground. "For uh...heh, I don't know. For sayin' you love me, I guess..."
She bent down to yank her boots back on over her pant legs before going to him, placing a hand on his arm as he stood back up. "I said it 'cause I meant it. Not just because you asked me to. Arthur, I...I never thought I'd ever meet somebody like you..."
He glanced over at her out of the corner of his eye, shoulders tensing even as she was complimenting him. She pressed forward, sliding her arms in around his waist. "You are doin' the best that you can with the hand you been dealt. You didn't ask to keep runnin' into somebody like me, havin' to rescue me and...and take care of me. But you did."
He shrugged uncomfortably, his eyes focusing away from her. "Anyone could've done that, darlin'..."
"Anyone could've. Not many actually would've. You saved me, Arthur..." She reached up to press her fingers to the stubble on his face, bringing his eyes back to her. "Not just from those Lemoyne Raiders, or my goddamn brother...you saved me from myself. From the...the hollowed out, empty thing I was turnin' into..."
He looked down at her, mouth pressing into a firm line.
"You did that. And that...means everything to me."
He was dipping down to catch her lips in a kiss again before she could even say anything else, pulling her in and wrapping her up into the warmth his body so easily seemed to produce. It was slow and deep this time, his attempt at conveying something he didn't think he was able to with words alone. How hopeful she made him feel, how good and somehow right; right in a way he couldn't remember feeling for a very long time.
They headed back up the trail some short time later, shoulders bumping against each other in the darkness as they made their way to his bed. They would sleep together this night and however many nights to come, Dutch and whoever else's opinion be damned.