Chapter Twenty

"Time to get your hands dirty."

Charlotte trembled, but she pressed her hands together to hide her fear from Arthur. She was hyper aware of the spokes at her back as wood splintered from bullets smashing on the other side of the wagon. Her life or Arthur's could end at any moment. One wrong decision made by either of them and the Murfrees would have their victory.

She could hardly think past the terror of it all. Arthur, on the other hand, appeared calm and in his element, more sure of himself than she'd ever seen him.

He didn't look at her as he said, "If you don't wanna lose the delusion I'm worthy of this life, you best close your eyes now."

"Arthur—" But this wasn't the time for a debate on morality.

A Murfree jumped on the wagon seat above them, so close Charlotte could see the wild craziness lighting his eyes. He mocked, "Here, piggy, pig—"

Without hesitation, Arthur raised his gun and shot him. The stunned man clutched his chest and fell over the side of the wagon, uttering no other words. Charlotte lifted her head and met Arthur's gaze. There wasn't regret in his expression over taking that man's life. Only a grim acceptance at having to deal with their unfortunate situation. Arthur wasn't enjoying killing for any sort of pleasure. He was doing what needed to be done for their survival.

She nodded to him once, hoping he realized she understood this was a life or death situation. He only reminded her, "Stay low."

The continuous popping and cracking seemed to come from everywhere to her, but Arthur was focused and unfazed. Somehow, he knew the right time to peek over the side of the wagon and where to aim. If she wasn't so frightened, she'd be amazed at his abilities.

Charlotte caught sight of a filthy man in overalls sneaking up from the trees in front of them. Luckily, he wasn't holding a gun, but he did have a rather large knife. Charlotte turned to warn Arthur, but he was concentrated on the men shooting from the other side of the wagon. She frantically scanned the ground for anything to use as a weapon and spotted a fist-sized rock by her foot. She grabbed it and flung it at the man. Her aim was true and smacked their prospective attacker in the nose.

The man dropped his knife and howled, both hands covering his bleeding nose. Charlotte picked up another, smaller rock and threw with more force. It hit the side of his head and he tumbled face first into the tall grass, hidden from view. To preserve her virtue, she presumed he was knocked out. However, she wasn't about to crawl over and check on him.

The howl drew Arthur's attention and he spared a backwards glance at her. "What the hell was that?"

Charlotte made to answer, but by this time, the gunshots were proving too much for Vee. He whinnied fretfully, rose on his hind legs and took off.

As the wagon started moving, Arthur clutched her elbow. "Head for the trees! I'll cover you."

Charlotte lifted her skirts and ran, futilely thinking, This would be so much easier in pants! If they survived this, she was only wearing skirts on special occasions.

Sporadic gunfire hit the ground near her feet, making her squeak and pick up her pace. They neared the unconscious Murfree she'd hit. Spotting the knife he'd wielded, she swooped it up before she took cover behind a wide tree, Arthur chose one right beside her. From her angle, she saw a Murfree jump onto their moving wagon as Vee was bolting away. The man took control of the reins and continued on the path.

She was winded from the run, but she managed to gasp out, "They're stealing our wagon!"

"Goddammit! You shit-heads better hope I don't—"

"Arthur!" Charlotte saw two Murfrees pushing forward now that the wagon was gone.

Arthur shot, hitting both of them, but one got off his own shot before he was downed. Arthur drew back sharply, crouched and clutched his upper arm. Blood seeped between his fingers. "Shit!"

"You're shot," she said in alarm, automatically taking a step forward.

"Don't move!" he snapped. He uncovered his hand to look at the wound. "It's just a graze. Bullet didn't go through, but it burns like a sonovabitch."

One of the surviving Murfrees must have seen Arthur get struck. He taunted behind his own tree, "This is what happens when you come onto Murfree land!"

Arthur hollered back, "Ya'll are a bunch of goddamn lunatics!"

"Now what?" Charlotte asked, fear icing her heart.

Arthur didn't need to say it. She saw it on his face. He was out of ideas, they were outnumbered and she was little more than a burden to his stead. The firing had stopped, but there were at least a few Murfrees out there yet. Armed or not, they remained dangerous.

Arthur told her, "You take off running and I'll stop them who tries to follow."

She scowled at him. "I'm not abandoning you."

"Goddammit, Charlotte, you can't do nothing so you might as well go!"

She drew herself up at his tone. He was lashing out, a technique she noticed he fell back on when something pinched his heart and he didn't know how else to react.

"I'm not leaving," she said firmly.

"The rest of 'em that ain't dead are gonna be on us any minute."

She lifted her newly acquired knife. "So be it."

He stared at her, grimaced and rested against the tree a moment. He removed his hat with the hand not holding his injury and wiped his forehead before replacing his hat again. Finally, he faced her and advised solemnly, "Wait 'til one gets close. You don't got the strength to overpower any of 'em, but if you slash at their hands and face right away, it'll slow 'em. I'll do the rest."

Charlotte nodded. She didn't question whether he'd be able to grapple anyone in his state. It would serve no purpose. She gripped the knife tighter and tried not to remember the outcome of the last time she'd been up against a hostile male.

A soft expression took over Arthur's face. "Charlotte, I want you to know—"

He was interrupted by the sound of sudden gunfire. Charlotte flinched, but none of it was reaching them. It picked up in quick succession and they heard Murfrees yelling in fear. Both her and Arthur shared a confused frown and peered around their trees.

Down went a Murfree who'd nearly reached them, shot in the back. Another turned and hollered to the remaining three in the open, "Back up the hill!"

A gunslinger on a horse came bearing down the hill, coat flaring in the wind. From out of the trees, they were shooting Murfrees left and right.

"Oh, now you're gonna run?" taunted the newcomer. The Murfrees were turning tail in earnest. The rider chased after them without mercy. "Don't feel so good on the other end of the barrel, does it?"

It was a figure in a duster jacket and a brimmed hat. Once the woods were silent, they dismounted in the middle of the trail and Charlotte distinctly noticed a blonde braid poking out of a brimmed hat.

"Don't that beat all."

Charlotte turned to Arthur, surprised to find him grinning. He stepped out from the tree and greeted, "Mrs. Sadie Adler. Ain't you a sight for sore eyes."

The woman in question swung around sharply and nearly dropped her rifle when she spotted Arthur. Her mouth fell open, but she recovered quickly enough. She strode up and threw her arms around him without ceremony. "You're alive?"

Arthur winced. "Barely."

She loosened her grip, drew back and poked his chest. "You ain't a demon, are you?"

"Something much worse, I reckon." Arthur chuckled. "When you ever been superstitious anyhow?"

"Since I've been spending my nights in these swamps. All kinds of creepy shit down here."

"You gotta camp nearby then? I gotta see what can be done about this arm."

"Sure. It's back aways, in the bayou." Sadie shook her head. "I still can't believe what I'm seeing. How did you end up here? How the hell did you survive them Pinkertons?"

Arthur sighed. "It's a long story. Let's get someplace safe and we'll tell you all about it."

"We?"

Charlotte took that as her cue to reveal herself. The woman's attention went to her and she raised her rifle imperceptibly. "Who's this?"

"My name's Charlotte Balfour. I'm pleased to meet you, Miss Adler."

"Mrs," Sadie corrected.

Charlotte blinked, amused somewhat at being on the other end of that distinction. "Mrs. Adler. Your timing couldn't have been more perfect."

"I disagree," Arthur groused. "Five minutes sooner and she coulda got here before I got shot."

Mrs. Adler eyed Charlotte up and down warily. "What are you doing out here?"

"Trying to get home," Charlotte told her.

"Home?"

"Goddammit, Sadie. Can you question us later? I'm bleeding out here."

"You're just as much of a bear since last I saw you." Mrs. Adler didn't seem offended. She put two fingers to her mouth and whistled. A moment later, her horse trotted down the path towards them.

"Yeah, yeah." Arthur coughed, trying multiple times to clear his throat before he was successful.

Charlotte's curious examination of Mrs. Adler switched to Arthur. He'd become pale and sweaty and he was holding his arm with a pinched expression. His tuberculosis was clearly affecting him after the strain in the gunfight. Not only that, Arthur hadn't removed his hand from his wound, which told her it hadn't stopped bleeding.

"Do you have any bandages?" she asked Mrs. Adler.

"All the supplies I got are at my camp." The blonde woman narrowed her eyes on Arthur, her expression unreadable. Charlotte had no idea what was going through her mind until she patted her mount and ordered, "Arthur, get on Bob. It ain't too far. Us girls can walk."

Charlotte nodded. "An excellent activity to expel some of the jitters I'm still feeling."

He didn't look fooled by their maneuvering as he wheezed, "I ain't ridin'...while you two walk."

Charlotte thought Mrs. Adler might snap a retort since the little she'd heard between the two, they seemed to have a contentious friendship.

But Mrs. Adler's husky voice was soft when she said, "Just do what we say, honey. It's for the best."

OOOOOOOOO

As for the walking, it felt good to stretch her legs. The only unpleasantness was the occasional squelching in the mud. They had backtracked, heading south again, but once they were out of the forest, it was clear to spot Mrs. Adler's camp across the marsh. However, her calling it such was extremely misleading. It turned out to be an abandoned houseboat idly floating on the edge of the Kamassa River.

Mrs. Adler walked across the plank onto the houseboat first, heading up the stairs in search of her medical supplies. Charlotte followed Arthur, keeping an eye on him in case he teetered. Once aboard, Arthur sat heavily on the bench and Charlotte helped remove his coat.

She folded it and set it aside, trying not to think overmuch on the blood stain his wound had created. She teased, "After all the trouble I went to sewing this coat and you've already torn it."

"Sorry about that. Probably ruined it for good now."

She sat beside him and glided the back of her fingers down his bearded cheek. "I'm only glad we made it out alright."

He admitted, "It was a close thing."

"Yes, but all's well that ends well." She started to lean into Arthur, wanting to press a reassuring kiss on his lips and erase the worry lines burrowed in his forehead, but she heard Sadie coming down from the wooden steps so she pulled away.

As Sadie brought over her medical supplies, Charlotte had a look around. Ammunition boxes and guns were strewn across the place, cluttering what little space the houseboat had.

Arthur noticed too and commented, "Jesus, Sadie, you headed into the next Civil War by yourself?"

"It don't hurt to be prepared, Arthur." Mrs. Adler handed over cloths and a roll of gauze.

Charlotte rested a hand on his arm and said, "I need to see it now, Arthur."

"Alright, but you don't got to fuss," he grumbled.

"I think I'm entitled to it." She kept her tone light even though she worried of his condition. She didn't like the amount of blood she'd seen so far.

By now, Arthur's hand was dark red with dried blood, but he uncovered it to reveal a two inch gash. It was deeper than what she had been expecting.

"This is more than a graze," Charlotte said accusingly.

"I've had worse than this."

She crinkled her nose, but held her tongue and set about cleaning the wound and wrapping it neatly.

While she worked, Arthur commented to Sadie, "I see you ain't lost your knack for trouble."

Mrs. Adler sat across from them, inspecting a knife. "Speak for yourself. For once, I was getting your ass out of a mess."

He gestured at the guns with the arm Charlotte wasn't working on. "Where did you get these anyhow?"

She shrugged. "Most of it's left over from Hanging Dog Ranch."

"You went back there?"

"They weren't using none of it."

Arthur shook his head. "You and your half-baked ideas."

"Excuse me, my half-baked ideas garner results." She pointed at him with her knife. "What about hijacking Mr. Bullard's balloon? Now that was a good idea."

Charlotte finished bandaging Arthur up and perked up with interest at the conversation. "I've heard mention of this mysterious balloon ride. Were you with him on that?"

Sadie leaned back, eyeing her. "I didn't go up. Didn't want to."

Arthur said, "So you made me do it."

"You heard all them backwards notions that pilot had about women and the flight affecting my vapors." She rolled her eyes.

"Hey, I liked that feller and I still blame you for getting him killed."

She hissed, "And I say it was worth it. Helped us get John back, didn't it?"

"Back from where?" Charlotte asked.

"Sadie..." he warned, which only heightened Charlotte's curiosity.

Thankfully, Mrs. Adler wasn't as close-mouthed as Arthur. "Sisika Penitentiary, before the government decided to hang him."

"Oh, my." She got the distinct impression Mrs. Adler was only telling her to frighten her. But her interest increased. "Hang him for what?"

"Sadie..." Arthur said again, through gritted teeth this time, but she paid him no heed.

"Bank robbery, for one, but likely they had a slew of other charges to add to that."

Arthur said in exasperation, "Goddammit, Sadie."

"What are you all huffy about? Ain't no way she don't already know you're an outlaw."

"She don't need to hear the details on that kinda shit."

"I don't see why not."

"Were you in the same gang as Arthur?" Charlotte asked, intrigued. For some reason, she'd never pictured a gang with women.

"Charlotte..."

Mrs. Adler turned to her. "Yeah, for a brief few months. After the damn O'Driscolls—"

Arthur stood abruptly, startling Charlotte. "I ain't staying to hear this."

"Arthur..." She got to her feet to stop him, but he was across the plank and headed down the marsh in long strides. She didn't know what she could say to bring him back. In the end, she decided it was best if she let him go.

"What's his problem?" Sadie asked, unconcerned with his outburst.

Charlotte sighed and sat once more. "Arthur is of the belief I won't see him in the same light if I become aware of the details to his past. He doesn't like me knowing there's a violent side to him."

"Didn't you just watch him kill a bunch of Murfrees?"

She smiled wryly. "Perhaps, you can point that out to him when he returns."

Mrs. Adler was studying her again. "How'd someone like you even meet Arthur?"

Charlotte picked at her skirt. "It was...hard times. I had just buried Cal—my husband—and I wouldn't have lasted another day." She paused. "That is, if Arthur hadn't come along when he did."

"You're a widow."

"Yes." She wasn't sure why that had Mrs. Adler's gaze intensifying. It was almost as if she were reassessing.

Mrs. Adler said quietly, "Becoming a widow is how I fell in with the Van der Linde gang." Her gaze drifted far away. "My husband was killed by another gang. They burst in at our farmhouse, looted us and shot him dead."

Charlotte's eyes widened. "How incredibly awful."

"Jake insisted I hide in the cellar, but I should've stayed up there and died fighting with him." Her eyes were filled with pure grief for a moment before they hardened. "After it was all done, I knew I could either go live with family out east or I could join Dutch's gang and get my revenge."

"And you chose to remain among outlaws?"

"I couldn't let matters be. I showed them I could fight and held my own until I became someone of worth to the gang."

She was fascinated. "So, did you ever get your revenge?"

Sadie's gaze turned skeptical. "Hasn't Arthur told you anything?"

"Very little." Charlotte blew out an exasperated breath. "I pick up on things here and there when he lets his guard down, but if he could have it his way, he'd have me believing he and everyone he knows are murderers and thieves."

"I mean, I ain't denying there's truth to that for most of them, but Arthur never went into any brawl cold-blooded."

"What about you?"

"Some fights, I had to." Her eyes glittered dangerously. "And I made sure them O'Driscolls got exactly what they deserved."

"Oh, my. So you actually took on an entire gang on your own?"

"Well, me and Arthur." Mrs. Adler raised a mocking brow. "That scare you?"

Charlotte admitted, "Well, yes, to a certain degree. You have to be the most formidable and impressive woman I've ever met."

Mrs. Adler was eyeing her strangely. "You're a tougher cookie than I gave you credit for. I didn't know at first what to make of a woman keepin' company with a dying outlaw."

Charlotte straightened, defensive. "Arthur is still a man. His past may have shaped him, but it doesn't define him. Under a different set of circumstances, he could have lived a wonderfully normal life."

"Couldn't we all," Mrs. Adler muttered. "Still, ain't a normal woman who sticks by a man who's killed, robbed, and harmed the innocent."

"Now you're sounding like him." Charlotte couldn't hold back her annoyance.

Mrs. Adler laughed. "I'm sorry. You just don't seem the type is all."

"Excuse me?"

"You're dressed practically, but the way you talk and sit and have your hair done is a dead giveaway to your pedigree. Clean up a little and you could be headed for a tea party."

Charlotte's hand went over her hair self-consciously. "I can't help any of that."

Mrs. Adler's gaze went to the marsh and back to Charlotte before she asked bluntly, "What are you to Arthur exactly?"

"Well, I..." Charlotte knew well her own mind, or more accurately, her own heart. What she didn't know was his. He'd never answered her on the wagon before they were attacked, but he hadn't said a flat out 'no' to her invite either.

Sadie was staring at her. Charlotte cleared her throat. "I aspire to be someone of significance to him, but he's quite resistant to the idea of his own contentment."

"Arthur's a good man and I trust him with my life. But..." Sadie's eyes were sad and her voice quieter than what Charlotte had heard thus far. "How did you...move on?"

Charlotte sighed. How could she describe something she didn't entirely understand herself? "That's difficult to explain. I didn't seek to by any means, believe me." She smoothed her skirt, thinking. "Somehow...something blossomed out of the ashes of my heart, from a place where I didn't believe anything could grow again."

"Poetic."

Charlotte smiled. "Forgive me. I don't mean to be."

"I recognize it." Tears brimmed in Mrs. Adler's eyes and her voice cracked. "Jakey was my true love, my world. I ain't never met a more decent man and I never will."

Charlotte got up and sat next to Sadie, throwing an arm over her shoulders. She'd just met this woman, but her heart went out to her. "I completely understand, Mrs. Adler. I thought the same thing for awhile."

The blonde woman looked up. "Call me Sadie."

"Alright, I will." Charlotte smiled. "I hope it's not presumptuous, but I wish we could be friends."

Sadie lifted her shoulders slightly. "I ain't much for people anymore, but I ain't against it, I suppose."

"Are you two crying?"

A bewildered Arthur had returned, but had stopped short before stepping onto the houseboat. He was holding two dead rabbits and looking between the two women like he wished he hadn't come back so soon.

Sadie scrubbed her face and didn't deny it. "Put those upstairs, Arthur. I'll get a fire started."

OOOOOOOOO

As dusk made it's way across the sky, Arthur cooked the rabbits while Sadie regaled Charlotte with a story on a day she joined Arthur into town, bought new clothes and first showed him how skilled she was with a gun.

Arthur commented, "You know I never trusted you with another one of my letters after that day. I only let Tilly or Mary-Beth handle them."

Sadie rolled her eyes. "Like they weren't reading everyone's mail neither. Especially yours."

Arthur looked startled. "What you mean?"

"All those letters you sent pining after Mrs. Linton was all those girls had for entertainment at camp."

"What!" Arthur's face was turning red. Charlotte wasn't sure if it was anger or embarrassment and she covered her smile.

"Don't look at me. I didn't care one whit about it." Sadie took a bite of her food and asked, "By the way, since you were coming out of Saint Denis, did you happen to run into Tilly? She was wanting to try and settle down in the city."

"No," Arthur muttered. "But now I think the next time I see her I might just wring her neck."

Sadie asked, "John know you're alive?"

"No." Arthur frowned. "He in Saint Denis too?"

Sadie shook her head negatively. "Last I heard, he, Abigail and Jackie were headed for the Yukon. Got it in his head he can strike it rich prospectin'."

"Prospectin'?" Arthur scowled. "John ain't got the patience for that."

Sadie shrugged. "Well, they're sure gonna try it. I know Abigail was talkin' about going straight. If she has her way, they'll do well enough."

Charlotte listened as Sadie and Arthur talked on about their friends. She was trying her darnedest to follow their stories and keep track of the different people, but drowsiness was seeping in.

She rested her head on Arthur's shoulder and closed her eyes. As unusual as it sounded, floating on a houseboat in a swamp and in the company of two outlaws, Charlotte felt protected and safe.