Sorry... but you had to know something would happen, right?
Chapter 8: Annabelle
"Are you just going to keep ignoring me?"
Dutch didn't answer. He turned the page of his book.
"Really?"
Dutch let out a long sigh, and turned away.
"Well, two can play this game," Annabelle said.
"You want to explain why you are encouraging Arthur to abandon us?" Dutch asked, sullen and annoyed.
"I didn't. I encouraged you to let him make his own decisions," she replied.
"Oh, really? You didn't go straight to his tent after and tell him to run off to be rancher?"
"Not yet. I stopped to talk to Susan."
"Not yet?"
"Dutch-"
"Fine, just tear the family apart, why don't you!" Dutch shouted, and stormed away.
Apart from this outburst, silence had invaded Annabelle and Dutch's tent both the previous night and that morning. Annabelle let out a sigh as Dutch disappeared behind the other tents. When she first met Dutch years ago in that hotel, she couldn't help but be pulled into a conversation. Dutch's opinions swirled brilliantly through their passionate debate, his ideas of the world were bold, he listened to her views, truly listened even if he ended up countering them. She had already started to fall in love with him that first night, and kept falling in love after. She loved him even when she noticed the gaping hole in his thinking that appeared again and again.
For a man who meticulously planned robberies and crafted visions of their utopia, he could be incredibly short-sighted when it came to other people. He viewed Hosea's year-long departure as a mistake, and his eventual return as proof of his philosophies. Other than that, Annabelle usually could talk him back, remind him of the factors he was missing.
Usually.
This time, though, an impenetrable curtain fell between them. Annabelle was trying to be patient. She could barely imagine Arthur, one of the original members, the one who turned a partnership into a gang, packing up and leaving it behind for a ranch life. But Hosea had a point, one which Dutch was stubbornly ignoring. Their life wasn't safe.
Annabelle loved living free with the gang. But freedom came with uncertainty. There was little guarantee of a payday or even survival. So many things could get them out here: disease, accidents, bounty hunters, rival outlaws.
With the restrictions of normal employment came steady money, regular access to medicine and food, and a stable home. She may not have liked her mother's job, but she understood now why she kept it all those years.
She'd miss Arthur. There was no doubting that. If he didn't write to her, she'd have to go all the way to Indiana to have words with him. She guessed she'd have more luck getting letters from Arthur than she would from John, if the positions were changed. Those two boys… she may not have been there from the beginning with Arthur but she considered both to be her sons.
Annabelle turned away from Dutch's retreating form and walked up to Arthur, announcing loudly for the entire camp to hear, "Hey, want to head into town with me and do some shopping? I have a few things to grab, and I'm sure Isaac has grown out of last year's winter clothes by now. It's always a good idea to shop before summer is over. Autumn gets cold fast."
"Sure," Arthur said. "Let's just try his coat on first, see how much he's grown."
"Why don't you just bring him along? It's certainly easier than guessing. I'll get the wagon ready."
Annabelle decided to hitch Rory up to their smallest wagon. Normally, they forced one of their riding horses to pull the wagon, especially when they were moving camp. Most of the horses hated it, especially Leo and Bo. They'd have to start training Moose to do it soon. But for today, it made sense to take their only real wagon horse.
"You ready?" she called out.
Arthur emerged with Isaac on his shoulders. "You excited to get out of camp?" he asked Isaac.
"Yeah! Mama took me to town all the time. She'd always buy me candy."
"Just one candy this time. We're not having a repeat of that other night."
Annabelle chuckled, and gave Arthur a hand up. "What? You didn't like chasing a hyper child around camp all night?"
"Not in the slightest. But you can stay awake with him, if you want."
"No, I really don't."
Annabelle gathered the reins and flicked them to encourage Rory out of camp. He started out at a steady trot, easily pulling the wagon along. It was a shame that Arthur would likely take Rory with him. Then again, maybe not. Bessie always took the train, since it was faster and safer.
"How are you, Arthur?" she asked him. "I know you've had a lot to think about lately."
"I'm fine, I guess," Arthur said, scratching his chin. "I know what I should do, it's just…"
"Hard? To leave?"
"You're leaving?" Isaac asked.
"You and me, together," Arthur quickly corrected. "A friend has a farm we can live at. Have a proper house, instead of a tent. What do you think about that?"
"Okay, I guess," said Isaac. "But we wouldn't be camping?"
"That's right, no more camping."
"But Uncle Hosea says camping is the best!"
"Well, I guess we can go camping sometimes, in the summer when it's warm. But winter is cold, with lot's of snow. Staying in a house is better."
"I agree," Annabelle said. "I used to live in a really cold city, the wind blew the snow up to the buildings until it was so deep you couldn't get out your door. Trust me, you want to be in a house with a roaring fire then."
"But snow is fun! Mama let me play in the snow sometimes and she'd come outside and build a snowman with me! But then when we were done she'd make me come inside and sit by the fire."
"Probably so your fingers and toes don't freeze," Arthur said. "But we'll buy you a nice, warm coat, some gloves, a hat too so you can play in the snow when it comes."
"When is that gonna be?"
"A couple of months."
"Aw."
"What do you mean? It's summer! Best season! It's hot, you don't need all the layers, you can go swimming. Wait, can you swim?"
"No."
"I'll teach you how to swim. Maybe this year we can convince John to learn, too."
Annabelle let out a snort and said, "Like that will ever happen."
They made their way across the creek and down the hill while Isaac talked on and on about how much he liked snow and being outdoors in general. When they got to town, Arthur tried to head to the general store, but Annabelle steered him to the tailor instead.
"Why are we going here? A tailor shop is more expensive, you know that!"
"Yes, but they can advise you on what to get and hem items for you with purchase. Bessie can certainly let the hems out as he grows. At a general store, you just buy whatever is in stock."
"I guess," Arthur said.
"Please tell me you've shopped at a tailor's before," she teased.
"Only when Hosea and Dutch dragged me on a fancy job."
"Well, I'm going to introduce you to the joys of the tailor shop," Annabelle said. "This guy is good, he helped me and Susan find those dresses."
The party had been a wonderful distraction from her worries about Isaac, Arthur, the fact that Dutch killed that O'Driscoll. Mr. Thompson, the tailor, had helped her find a beautiful red dress and lovely shoes to match. She rarely got the opportunity to wear such nice things these days, usually picking comfort over glamor.
"Good morning, miss," Mr. Thompson said. "Here for another dress?"
"Not today, but that last one was wonderful. No, I brought my friend and his son. Isaac here could use some new winter clothes." She patted Isaac on the shoulder.
"Of course, now are you looking for more practical clothes or-"
"Practical," Arthur jumped in. "Definitely practical. We're staying on a friend's ranch this winter."
"I understand, sir. Now, why don't you hop up on here, young man, and we'll get you fitted with a coat." The tailor brought out a small platform and placed it in front of the mirrors, and Isaac climbed on top. "Do you have a color preference?" he asked Arthur.
"Uh, I don't know. Something darker, I guess, to hide dirt and stuff."
"We have this children's coat in dark brown, red, blue, and black."
"Isaac, you want brown, red, blue, or black?"
"Blue!" Isaac said.
"The customer has spoken," the tailor joked, and put the blue coat on Isaac. "Just hold still, I'm going roll up these sleeves for you and put some pins in."
"Okay!" Isaac stayed very still.
Annabelle stood next to Arthur a few feet away and whispered in his ear, "You've decided then? About the ranch?"
"I don't really have a choice," Arthur said.
"You do, though. Please don't forget that."
"But choosing to go is the better choice. At least for now, while he's young."
"That I agree with. I just didn't want to pressure you," Annabelle said. "And who knows? You might like it a whole lot! Having a small cabin, the same bed every night, a warm fire in the hearth… there's times I miss it."
"Let's all go to Indiana then," he teased. "Get a homestead together, or a small ranch of our own."
"Could you imagine Dutch living on a ranch?"
"No!" he laughed.
"Cleaning up horse shit, milking cows, feeding the chickens…"
"He always manages to get himself out of the dirty work out here, and we live outdoors!" Arthur laughed. "Hey, when I'm gone, you should put him on horse shit duty."
"Except Susan assigns the chores, and he has somehow convinced her that some tasks are beneath him."
"Bribe her. Susan may respect Dutch's authority, but she doesn't mind making a few bucks on the side."
"Why, Arthur, are you speaking from experience?"
"John has no idea why he always has to do the laundry."
They both descending into giggles, earning a stare from the tailor.
Annabelle sighed. "It's a lovely dream, having our own land out west. A place where we can do whatever we want, make our own money. Dutch has mentioned it before, but between you and me, I think he's a bit too restless for that. Him and Hosea, they'll be moving until the day they die."
"Alright, how does this look?" Mr. Thompson said, stepping aside. Pins encircled Isaac's wrists, and the shoulders were just a hair too wide. But that was by design, and the next size down would likely be too small. "I've kept the sleeves a little long, so I would suggest a nice, warm shirt and a good pair of mittens so the wind doesn't get up his arms, but this way you shouldn't need to immediately let the hems out. Who knows, depending on how fast he's growing, it might be perfect by the time winter gets here!"
"Looks good," Arthur said.
"Now, I can hem these cuffs right away. You are welcome to wait here, or come back later if you have other shopping to do."
"We have other shopping, but we should get Isaac some new mittens, too."
"That shouldn't take too long. You pick them out when you get back."
"Thank you," said Arthur, and they guided Isaac out of the shop.
"Now, we can go to the general store," Annabelle said, leading the way down the street.
"What do you need?"
"Some more food, Hosea wants some predator bait… I think he's planning to take you boys bear hunting."
"Oh, of course," Arthur groaned.
"He's been talking about his youthful days of bear hunting since we set eyes on those mountains. And finally," Annabelle said, plucking a box of pipe tobacco off the shelf. "Some bribery."
"Think that'll work on Dutch?"
"If not, I'll just smoke it. This isn't my favorite, but it'll do. And I can always move into Susan's tent for a few days. That might shock him into conversation. Then again, she's disagrees about Indiana, too."
"You and Dutch doing alright? You haven't fought like that in a long time. Think the last time was when you suggested that John might be too young to stay with us, and we should find him a family to take care of him."
"And at the time, it was a good idea. Just because John ended up flourishing with us doesn't mean my opinion was bad."
"Yeah, he was a little shit back then. Still is, sometimes. Besides, I doubt he would have stayed put. He told me some stuff, about the place they sent him to when his father died."
"I remember he used to have nightmares," she said.
"Yeah, not just about that. He had it rough, more than most. I feel sorry for him sometimes. And I have to admit, he's starting to grow up a little."
"Arthur Morgan, I think you are turning into a good brother," Annabelle said. "And you are going to be a great father to Isaac, I can tell."
"I ain't so sure some days," he said, playing with his hat.
"Nonsense."
Arthur turned to Isaac and asked, "You think he's distracted for a second?"
"Yes, why?"
Arthur walked over to a small stack of journals. "Hosea's idea, for teaching him writing and drawing."
"A surprise, I take it?"
"Yeah, for his birthday maybe. Or sooner."
"You going to teach him how to draw like you do?"
"I'm not that good."
"Yes, you are. Wait, here he comes." Annabelle stepped in front of Arthur while the he slid the shop owner the money for the journal. "Isaac, see anything you want?"
"They have chocolate bars!" Isaac said, running over with multiple bars in his hand. "Can I have it, Pa?"
"One," Arthur said, slipping the journal in his satchel. "And maybe your Aunt Anna will pay for it."
"If I pay, you can have two," she winked.
"Undermining my authority?" he said.
"You learn those words from Dutch?" she shot back.
"Fine. If Aunt Anna buys you two, then you can have them." Annabelle paid for the rest of the items. Arthur offered, "I can load these in the wagon and meet you and Isaac back at the tailor shop."
"Thank you, Arthur."
Annabelle held Isaac's hand as they walked down the street. She grabbed the shop's door handle, then paused. She felt like she was being watched. Carefully, she scanned the reflections in the glass. There was someone sitting on a horse behind her, leaned casually on the pommel. After a second, the man turned the horse down the street, and Annabelle relaxed a little as she entered the shop.
"Alright, Isaac, let's pick out some mittens!"
She didn't tell Arthur about the man when he arrived. After all, it was probably nothing, just an asshole staring at women on the street. They bought Isaac two pairs of mittens and picked up the coat before deciding it was time to head back. Still, the feeling lingered in her gut.
"Can I eat the chocolate now?" Isaac asked not long after the wagon rolled out of town.
"Why not," Arthur said. "Better to spoil your dinner than have you up all night."
"Not a bad trade," Annabelle laughed.
Arthur reached in the back to pull out the chocolate, since Isaac was on Annabelle's lap. He paused while ruffling through the bags, then turned around slowly.
"I think we're being followed," he whispered.
She should have trusted her instincts. "How many?"
"Just two, but they seem like they're watching us."
"What should we do?"
Arthur stretched slightly, using the opportunity to peak over his shoulder again. "Dammit, I think there's another one. Okay, keep it cool."
Annabelle tightened her hold around Isaac. She and Arthur could easily fight off three men, but neither of them wanted to risk it with Isaac if they didn't have to. She slipped her hand into her satchel, fingers tightening around her pistol.
"Hey, you two, wait up, why don't yah?" one of the men called out, with a thick Irish accent.
"Keep it cool," Arthur muttered again.
"Pa?" Isaac asked.
"It's okay, Isaac. We're fine."
Another man rode out in front of them, the green neckerchief giving away who she suspected they were. O'Driscolls.
"Ah, look who it is. Dutch's girl and Arthur Morgan! And a kid," the man in front of them said. "And Colm only told us to look for the girl."
"I'd let us by, if I were you," Arthur growled.
"Can't do that. You see, Colm's pretty angry about his brother. Supposes one for one is pretty fair. That your kid?"
Annabelle hugged Isaac closer to her as more O'Driscolls emerged from the woods on either side. Annabelle glanced behind them, and knew there were too many to fight it out, Isaac or no Isaac.
Arthur leaned closer to her and whispered, "I'll take out the one in front, clear the way. Run out of here as fast as you can, through the trees. I'll cover you."
The unspoken instruction was to leave him behind. "No," she said.
The O'Driscoll addressed Arthur, saying, "Tell you what. You give us the girl, you and the kid can walk out of here just fine. Colm wants Dutch to know about this."
Arthur tensed, shifting the reins to one hand. Ready to draw his gun.
"Arthur, it's okay," she said, louder so the O'Driscolls could hear. "Get Isaac home."
She started to shift Isaac onto his lap, but in an instant Arthur drew his revolver and fired into the first O'Driscoll's head. The dead man's horse panicked and bolted off the path.
"Go!" he shouted, diving off the wagon and turning on the other men.
"Pa!" Isaac screamed back at him, but Annabelle slid off the other side of the wagon and sprinted into the trees. She hated being trapped on foot, but she understood Arthur's intention. A wagon was easy to track and provided very little cover. Ducking her head down, she tightened her grip on Isaac, who twisted his head to hide in her arm. Gunshots erupted behind her, the O'Driscolls shouting.
"She's getting away!"
"Forget her, get Morgan!"
The gunfire continued as she disappeared into the trees, and then abruptly stopped. Jeers and laughter replaced it.
She desperately wanted to turn back. But with Isaac in her arms, she kept running.