Chapter Twenty-One

"He found me at my lowest point and he lifted me up."

Once Arthur got over the fact his privacy had been invaded without his knowledge, he explained to Sadie some of what had happened to him. John had told her near everything up 'til his supposed death. He informed her of Charles finding him at Willard's Rest, and his extended stay there as he healed from his fight with Micah. He skipped on some of the specifics, like why he and Charlotte had journeyed to Saint Denis, except that they needed supplies.

He was finishing with the lead up to the ambush today when he felt the weight of Charlotte's head press heavily on his good arm.

Sadie declared, "We have to get your wagon back."

Arthur adjusted Charlotte's position on him so her head laid in his lap instead. Her legs were curled on the bench. "Ain't the wagon I care much about, just wish they hadn't got ahold of that horse."

Sadie was twirling a knife she'd pulled from her belt. "I'll go after them bastards that got away. They're probably scared shitless right now since no one else from the ambush made it out."

He argued, "Wait 'til morning at least. Then you don't got to go it alone."

"I ain't asking you to help." Sadie scowled. "You can barely stand on two legs."

Her correct assumption of his condition stung and had him saying defensively, "It was me and Charles who cleared Beaver Hollow of them bastards in the first place and it weren't easy."

"I'll manage," Sadie said. "I've been doing well enough on my own for awhile now."

"You never did tell me what you're doin' up here. Woulda thought you would try going west instead of making friends with Murfrees."

"I'll have you know, I'm tryin' to make a livin', but I ain't as keen on robbin' folks as you people were."

Arthur had a feeling she meant she wasn't as subtle in her methods and didn't want to take too many risks with the law. "How you doin' it then?"

"I'm trying my hand at bounty hunting." She put away her knife and crossed her arms as if she thought he might judge her. "Caught two bastards already and the pay is decent."

Arthur's brows rose. "You hunting someone around here?"

"Sure am." She spit over the side of the boat and continued, "There's a feller wanted for larceny in Valentine by the name of Marty Stone. Heard a rumor he's hiding in Lakay."

"Lakay?" he said uneasily. "Charles told me Micah's recruiting out there."

"Micah." A strange glitter appeared in her eyes. "You wanna go after him?"

Because of his talk with Charles, Arthur had already come to terms on his involvement in Micah's fate. So he told her honestly and without regret, "Nah. Never was keen on revenge."

Sadie sat forward, planted her feet and hissed, "Arthur, that bastard messed up everything."

"Sadie." He shook his head. He knew she wouldn't like his opinion on the matter, but he still had to say it. "You gotta find something else to dull that bloodthirsty nature of yours."

She gestured wildly into the night, the general direction of Lakay. "You're just gonna let him get away with it all?"

"Not saying I didn't try," he argued, looking down as he drifted his hand across Charlotte's arm. "But something stronger pulled me back."

Her hands tightened into fists. "When John told us what happened at the caves, we vowed if we ever found Micah, we'd take him down."

He warned, "Don't be going after Micah on my account."

The scowl she directed his way was fierce. "If I wanna go after Micah, then I'm gonna go after him. You ain't got no say in that."

"Sadie..." He didn't know how to convince her otherwise. "There ain't no reason to."

"Ain't no reason?" She straightened. "He was the rat, Arthur. He nearly got you, me and Abigail killed. And that's without mentioning the ones who were collateral damage from his connivin' and lyin'."

"If you gotta do it, then be careful and don't go it alone. But I'm gonna tell you right now, it's a stupid idea and I am the authority on recognizing stupid ideas."

She crossed her arms. "I'll think on it."

"That's all I ask." He didn't know if she would, but at least she'd heard him out.

Despite the unnerving glint that had shone in her eyes when she'd mentioned Micah, he was glad for a conversation on the gang. Sadie's knowledge on some of the others' whereabouts brought him the solace he'd been seeking when Charles had found him.

Sadie narrowed her eyes on his hand resting on Charlotte. "You settling down with this one here?"

He hedged. "I ain't decided yet."

"If not, I could sure use another gun catching bounties at least."

Arthur suspected, if when he woke up at Willard's Rest and hadn't been afflicted by more than just wounds from his fight with Micah, he'd be keen on the idea. It was work he knew how to do and the law saw it as legal. But too much had changed. Arthur sighed. "I'm tired of the life, Sadie. Was starting to feel like that even before everything went sideways."

"Bringing to justice the bastards who hurt folks is all I have left." Sadie met his gaze. "I ain't like you, Arthur. I ain't got no desire to settle down again."

"I understand." They fell silent and he brushed his fingers over Charlotte's hair.

Sadie observed, "You found yourself a real lady there."

"She went through a lot today, more than anyone should."

Sadie snorted, clearly not impressed. "One shootout?"

Arthur looked up. "She ain't like us. She ain't used to life out here."

"There was a time I coulda said the same thing."

"You're different. You knew the lay of the land before you joined up with us. Charlotte don't even got that."

"If you think this one's so helpless, then why are you even botherin' with her?"

Half a dozen images of Charlotte came to his mind. Her standing tall and confident with her rifle in hand after she shot that stalker, her eyes glittering and her shoulders thrown back when she'd stood down her father, and just today with a knife in her hand and her mouth set stubbornly and determinedly when he'd told her to run. "She ain't helpless."

"Right." Sadie didn't believe him, but she added, "At any rate, I know why she's botherin' with you."

He frowned. "Why? She say something?"

She lifted a shoulder. "If you can't see it, I ain't about to lay it out for you."

Arthur grumbled, "Now you know how to keep your mouth shut? Where was this discretion a couple hours ago?"

Charlotte shifted in her sleep. Her face pinched and he wondered if she was reliving something of the day in her dreams.

Sadie stood. "I don't think you two wanna be walking around in these woods tonight. Nearest town is too far and the rest of the Murfrees nearby will be wanting blood."

Arthur asked, "What do you suggest?"

Sadie nodded to the door. "You two can stay in there tonight. There's plenty of room. I've got my own bed up top."

"Thanks, Sadie. Owe you two now."

"Mmhmm. Thank me later, Arthur." Sadie retreated up the stairs.

He regretted having to wake Charlotte, but he didn't have the capability of carrying her with his wounded arm.

"Wake up, darlin'," he murmured, gently shaking her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open and she sat up. He stood and helped her to her feet, commenting. "I ain't known for my titillatin' conversation, but I reckon you fallin' asleep on me is a more common occurrence than it should be."

She rubbed her eyes and said in a voice thick with sleep, "You're absurd."

"Throwing insults, now." He tsked. "Not very ladylike, Mrs. Balfour."

She sent him a long suffering look and he grinned. She looked around. "Where's Sadie?"

He tilted his head. "She went upstairs to bed. I suggest we do the same." He ushered her into the cabin.

Charlotte woke enough to light a lamp hanging on a post and it brightened up the room. The area wasn't any bigger than Arthur expected, but counters and storage took up the majority of its space. Sadie had said there was 'plenty of room'. His eyes stopped at the bed in the corner. The only bed. This cabin was meant to house one person.

"What the hell is this?" he couldn't help saying out loud.

Charlotte was peering out the window facing the Kamassa River, but she turned with confusion at his question. "What's the matter, Arthur?"

"Give me a minute." He turned on his heel out the door and yelled up, "Sadie!"

"Yes, Arthur?" she asked and a moment later Sadie leaned over the railing from above with an innocent expression. He didn't buy it for a second.

He pointed at the door he'd closed. "There's only one goddamn bed in there."

"That's right." She rolled her eyes when he glared. "What did you expect, Arthur? This ain't a hotel."

"There's two of us."

Sadie lifted a shoulder, unconcerned. "I'd trade with you, but all I got is a hammock up here." She raised a brow. "You two want that instead?"

"No."

She reminded him, "The nearest town is Saint Denis and I don't recommend walking in the dark. Murfrees and all that."

In low tones, he asked, "What are we supposed to do?"

"Use that thick skull of yours to figure it out." Sadie chuckled and said cheekily, "Sweet dreams, Arthur."

She moved away so he couldn't argue with her anymore without him raising his voice and Charlotte hearing all. Arthur didn't know what she found so goddamn funny. He returned to the inside of the cabin, disgruntled, but ready to offer Charlotte the bed before she got it in her mind to do the same. He wouldn't put it past her to try such a thing. He prepared himself mentally for tonight's piss-poor sleep.

Charlotte was holding her arms to herself, staring out the same narrow window where he'd left her. An odd light was in her eyes and she was in subdued contemplation. The only other time he'd seen her like that was when he'd found her at the docks in Saint Denis.

Arthur stopped in front of her and rested a hand on her shoulder. "You alright there?"

She asked quietly, "Was this afternoon...an example of what your everyday life was once like?"

He frowned. "You mean that shootout?"

She hugged herself tighter. "I was...prepared to die today."

"So was I." He let out a breath. "But it didn't come to that."

It'd been a pretty insignificant battle, considering how them Murfrees were near useless in a fight. If they'd been better equipped, Arthur would've thought nothing of it.

He tried to reassure her, "We came out of it in one piece."

"You were shot."

Her eyes were glistening. Damn. It'd taken awhile, but something had finally scared her. "You don't gotta cry over it. Ain't like I never been shot before and this is nothin'."

"How...how do you manage..." She couldn't seem to get her words out and her face began to crumple as she struggled to keep from being overwhelmed by the whole ordeal.

"Come here." He pulled her in and held her to his chest. Her arms wrapped around his torso as she hugged him tight. Last time she'd squeezed him like this, he was waking up from death. Against her hair, he said, "Ain't no trick to it. I just try not to think on it overmuch."

"Arthur, do you want to go back to living so dangerously?"

His hands strayed up and down her back in soothing strokes. "Even if I did want it, I don't got it in me no more to be fighting all the damn time. I'd be dead by the end of the week."

She let him go to wipe her cheeks of tears and he reluctantly released her. "I'm sorry for my emotional state. I guess I hadn't taken time to process the shock of it until now."

"You don't got to apologize."

Once she cleared her face, her attention was drawn to something behind him. She commented mildly, "I should get one of those for the house."

He turned and Charlotte moved beside him to glide her fingers along the phonograph sitting on the counter. He didn't know much about the machines 'cept Dutch had had one. Arthur had never been curious enough to mess with it.

She continued, "It would certainly liven up the quiet evenings. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess." Now that she'd calmed down, he cleared his throat and tried to offer her the bed, "Charlotte, you—"

"I wonder if this one still works." He didn't see what she did, but suddenly music and a woman's voice filled the room. Beautiful, but eerie and odd in the backdrop of a foggy swamp.

"Oh promise me that someday you and I...will take our love together to some sky..."

Charlotte faced him again, the glow of the lamp framing her face. "Arthur...I have something to tell you."

"Yeah?" He thought he knew by the determination in her eyes what she wanted to say, what she wanted to ask him again. He'd never given her an answer and he didn't yet know what to tell her.

She looked down and swallowed, seeming nervous. "Well...I..." She took a deep breath in and met his eyes. "Arthur, it-it never crossed my mind I'd get a second chance and it still doesn't exactly seem possible."

She had him real confused. "A second chance at what?"

"Well..." Charlotte pursed her lips a moment before confessing, "A second chance at love."

Love?

He stared down at Charlotte, dumbfounded. He didn't know how to respond and the singer from the phonograph filled his silence.

"Oh promise me, that you will take my hand,

the most unworthy in this lonely land,

and let me sit beside you..."

Charlotte swallowed again. "I see I've taken you quite by surprise."

"Yeah." Had she though? The lyrics repeated themselves in his head, a sharp reminder to his conscience. Most unworthy in this lonely land. Ain't it the damn truth. "Maybe you did."

"What do you think?"

"Darlin'," he sighed. "You don't want to know what I'm thinkin'."

"Of course I do." She stepped up to him and rested a palm on his chest. "Tell me what's on your mind, Arthur."

They were both hopeless. Her in love with an outlaw and him too damn near death to make it worth her while. Pained, he covered the hand on his chest and told her, "It don't seem real, is all. It's a dream I ain't got no business being in."

"How can you say that?"

"Because it's true, no matter what I want."

"What do you want, Arthur?" she asked softly.

The song petered off and it left an empty hollowness in the air.

Arthur closed his eyes. What did he want? He knew alright, but it weren't possible. Years—years he don't got—of waking up in a cabin to the sound of Charlotte's upbeat humming, the sight of her working in the kitchen, the touch of her fingers in his beard as she held him near, the taste of her lips at the end of each evening...

He didn't say any of that. It was too much, too goddamn much to ask for, to hope for.

Arthur opened his eyes and said flatly, "I think it's time we get some rest."

She looked ready to battle him for a more honest answer. "Arthur—"

He stepped back from her and gestured. "You take the bed now and I'll find a spot to sleep on one of them benches outside."

"You most certainly will not." His decision had Charlotte's brow wrinkling. "Sleeping outdoors overnight could exacerbate your condition."

"I'll survive." He weren't too sure about that, but maybe it were a better fate than disappointing Charlotte with false hopes.

She argued, "You're injured and should be sleeping in a bed."

"Not if it means your discomfort over mine."

She blew out an exasperated breath. "Has anyone ever told you you have quite the stubborn nature?"

"Yes."

"Come now," Charlotte turned from him, marched to the bed and threw back the covers. She sat down, patting the mattress. "There's room enough for the two of us."

Room enough for the two...did she want to drive him mad all night? Unbidden, images popped into his mind all on their own, of Charlotte's heated body pressed against his, the two of them entwined in each other's limbs, her whispering his name against his mouth...

He shook his head adamantly. "Hell, no."

Her lips twisted. "I'm not sure what to make of that strong of a refusal, but I won't be pushed around any further tonight." Still sitting on the bed, she reached out and grabbed his hand. "Sit down, take off your boots and let's ready for bed now."

Charlotte commanded him like they'd done this before and he found his treacherous feet moving on their own accord towards her. In all truths, he didn't have it in him to fight her. Hardly had any resistance, in fact, and she knew it.

He sat beside her and removed his boots as she did the same. After that, he didn't know what to do. Charlotte scooted on the bed, laying with her back against the wall. She propped up on her elbow and patted the bed. "Come here, Arthur."

Arthur shifted and laid flat on his back beside her, tense and trying not to look at her or touch her by accident. She drew the blanket up and around and it wasn't wide enough to fully cover the two of them as they were, apart from one other.

Eventually, she sighed. "This won't do."

He agreed and was ready to bolt out of the bed. Instead, Charlotte shifted closer so that she rested under his arm, placing her palm over his heart, likely feeling it racing erratically and nearly thudding out of his chest.

He was nervous as all hell and didn't know why. Weren't like he never lain with a woman before. 'Course, usually he'd had something to drink to loosen up. Being cold sober made everything feel more intimate and aware of every part of her that was touching him.

"Arthur, give me your hand."

His mouth was dry. He raised his right arm with care and she took his hand and held it against her chest. His eyes widened and he forgot how to breathe for a moment.

She said quietly, "Listen."

He took a calming breath and did. It took him a moment before he noticed what she was trying to show him. Then he felt the thumping in her chest. Her heart was beating just as hard and wild as his.

She asked softly, "Doesn't this feel real to you?"

Arthur didn't answer her.

"I understand why you want to deny your heart. I've struggled with the same sentiment." She raised her head and pressed a kiss to his jaw before returning to her position. "But I've promised myself to do more living than surviving when I can and I think you should too."

Her words stuck in his head as he felt her grow heavy with sleep, as he listened to the crickets and toads croaking outside, as he tightened his arm around her and kissed the top of her head.

"Doesn't this feel real to you?"

"Yeah," he breathed into the darkness, the quiet night, but not to her. "It feels real."

And behind it, echoing in his mind, Oh promise me...