Hi all! Thank you so much to everyone who has read this so far! I appreciate it's a slow burn but I really wanted to make sure Amelia had her own sense of purpose in the universe. Please, as always, feel free to share your thoughts and I shall see you at the next chapter! x
Horseshoe Overlook, March 1899
Arthur grabbed the bottle of whiskey, throwing the last of it down his throat. The party had wound down as, like him, most could not stand for much longer. It had been a successful day, a day worth celebrating.
Sean had been rescued, and spirits were high. Even if he was still, if not more annoying than he had always been. The sun had long set over the hills as the fire crackled in the hearth, sending sparks up into the night sky. He attempted to stand, but fell back onto the makeshift seat. Laughing to himself, he tried to steady his swirling vision.
'I ain't drunk!' Arthur slurred loudly, trying to convince himself. 'Just tired,' he mumbled, taking another deep swallow of whiskey. The drink burnt all the way into his stomach. A warm glow spread through his body as he lay his head against the chair.
A loud thump startled him from his drunken stupor. Lifting his head, he peered out into the darkness where the sound originated. A horse whinnied, and the animal shook its head wildly, pawing at the ground. His hand clumsily went for his gun on his hip as the fire popped again, causing a small piece of wood to fall from the log.
'Damn thing,' he cursed, barely able to keep his eyes open. 'C'mon, Morgan,' He said to himself, as he staggered up.
He could still hear Javier playing his soothing guitar. The soft melodies filled the air as the only voices that remained were low and inaudible. It was a peaceful setting.
The moonlight shined brightly across the camp, casting shadows across the grass. He blinked his watering and unfocused eyes as he stumbled in a futile attempt to put one foot in front of the other. His fingers felt numb, as if they were wrapped around something invisible.
Suddenly, he stopped, turning around to see a figure standing near the fire. His heart pounded in his chest as he reached for his gun again, as he swayed on his feet.
'You alright, Arthur?' the voice called.
'Mmm,' Arthur nodded as he turned slowly, his brain filled with a single determination to crawl into bed. As he took another step forward, his legs gave out beneath him. He collapsed onto the ground, the hard packed earth digging into his back.
He roared, laughing as the whiskey spilt on his chest and legs. He tried desperately to roll to his front.
'Here,' the voice said, as Arthur felt himself being lifted from the ground.
In the low light and increasing intoxication, Arthur couldn't make out the face, nor did he really care.
'Shit,' Arthur said as he pushed the body away from him, walking as best he could toward his tent. Finding his way to his cot, he fell into the camper and instantly passed out.
The next morning, Arthur groaned as he sat up. He felt like an old man, stiff and sore with every movement he made. Looking around at the camp, he saw the others lying peacefully where they had fallen.
He rose to his feet, stumbling over the uneven ground. Taking a deep breath, he walked out of his tent, finding himself still dressed as he was the day before. His head felt like a horse had kicked him and his mouth felt like putrid suede.
As he stepped outside, the crisp morning air washed over him. He gasped for air as he looked around, blinking at the sun as his head gave another throb.
Javier walked passed Arthurs's tent, equally squinting in the sunlight as he stretched his arms.
'Good morning, amigo,' he yawned. 'How are you feeling?'
'Aw, hell,' Arthur said, realising how badly he must have looked the night before. He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head. 'I feel like shit. What about you? You don't look so good yourself.' Arthur replied.
Javier looked tired. His skin was pale, and dark bags hung under his bloodshot eyes.
'Well, we've got a lot of catching up to do,' Javier grinned, trying to lighten the mood as he continued past him.
Arthur followed behind him, noticing the smell of coffee. He knew the others would be awake soon and wanted to get a jump on them. Walking into the cooking tent, he found Sean already seated at the table. Arthur heard the patter of footsteps approaching behind him. Looking around, he could see Jack standing there. He smiled as the boy came closer; reaching out, he stroked his hair.
Jack leant forward, resting on Arthur's arm for a moment before pulling away shyly. Arthur looked at the boy through his pounding head as the small child made his way back to his perch. He watched the boy as he played by himself in the corner, carefully building a small structure silently with some rocks and twigs.
'What time is it?' Arthur asked.
'About nine,' Sean answered, sipping his coffee.
Arthur stared blankly across the tent as Pearsons cooked the breakfast on the fire. A group of men sat around in silence, lost in their own nausea. Arthur turned his attention back to Pearsons as he began stirring the pot. The smell of the bacon and eggs made his mouth water, and he realised he had eaten nothing since the previous afternoon.
'That smells good,' Arthur grumbled.
Pearsons nodded, pouring the food into bowls and handing one to Arthur.
'Thanks,' was all he managed to mumble.
They ate in silence, each man picking at the food without enthusiasm. The conversation was nonexistent as they concentrated on the meal. Arthur glanced around the tent, noticing that everyone else seemed to be in a similar condition.
After they had finished eating, Arthur looked out from the tent at the surrounding area, trying to take in as much as he could. But his eyes kept drifting towards the road leading north, the same one that they had used when they first arrived. It was a lonely path, little more than a track cutting its way through the woods.
It would be a good place to find some deer.
Standing, Arthur grabbed for the coffee, drinking the contents down in one.
'Might as well do something useful. Gonna catch some meat, boys,' Arthur said with a departing nod as the coffee took off the worst of the hangover.
Unhitching his horse, he swung his legs over the beast as he pulled the bow from the saddlebag, slinging it over his shoulders. Arthur was not exactly the best hunter, but he knew how to land a clean kill.
Heading into the trees, he found himself alone in his thoughts.
It must have rained last night, as there were puddles on the ground. The raindrops glistened in the light that filtered through the canopy, forming perfect ripples in the puddles.
Arthur scanned the forest, searching for signs of life. Arthur felt a sudden shiver run through him, causing him to look around.
The air was filled with birdsong, chirping and whistling in all directions. Insects buzzed and droned, adding their own rhythm to the music of nature. Arthur watched as the dew settled, making sparkling pools on leaves and twigs.
He reached for an arrow, resting it against his shoulder.
A gentle breeze caused the branches above to sway, casting long shadows across his face. He waited patiently, allowing the sun to come up higher, knowing that it would soon dry the forest floor.
As it did, the shafts of sunlight broke through the tree cover, flooding the area below in a warm glow. There was nothing stirring. Arthur didn't even see any tracks. No sign of a deer or anything else. He looked up at the sun, wondering if it was too late. Leaving his horse to graze, he followed the trail along the side of the hill, taking care not to step in the puddles.
'Shit,' he cursed, stopping to watch a snake slither by.
His mind wandered as he watched the snake glide through the grass. It slithered past him without a second glance. Taking another step, he froze. He could see a small herd of deer ahead. They were grazing on the grass, unaware of his presence.
He stood motionless, watching them eat, waiting for one to wander away. As the herd moved away, he drew back his bow, aiming for the biggest buck.
The animal looked up, spotting him.
Arthur released the string, sending the arrow straight through the buck's neck.
As the deer dropped to the ground, Arthur ran toward it. He pulled the carcass free, dragging it to the edge of the woods.
'Damn, I can hardly move,' he muttered to himself as he struggled to carry the heavy load.
He stopped to rest, looking down at the dead animal. He couldn't believe how much weight it had added to his already exhausted body.
Arthur leaned against a tree trunk, watching the animals as they wandered away.
Walking back to his horse, he tied the rope around the buck, then saddled the beast and rode back to the camp.
Handing the carcass over to Pearson, Arthur made his way to the table where Charles, Javier, and Hosea all sat around. Their eyes were worn, as Arthur knew they'd all be feeling just as shit as he did.
'You guys look like you could use a drink,' he said as he plopped down in a chair.
Pearson poured three cups of coffee, handing one to each of them.
Arthur took a sip, feeling the warmth spread through his chest.
'It still doesn't make much difference who did it though,' Charles said, continuing whatever conversation the three men were having.
'Less bastards for us to deal with,' Javier nodded as he drew his poncho over his shoulders.
'What's this now?' Arthur said as he took another sip of coffee.
'There was an attempted raid on one of those rich estates,' Javier replied, his dark brown eyes still bloodshot.
'Overheard the news in Rhodes this morning,' Hosea said, looking the freshest out of the bunch. At least there was one of them that wasn't stupid enough to drink themselves into oblivion.
'What happened?' Arthur asked, feeling his head clearing.
'I'm not entirely sure,' Hosea commented, lighting his cigarette.
The sound of horse hooves beat behind them as Josiah entered the camp. With an enthusiastic wave towards the men at the table, Josiah skipped over to them.
'Ah! Good morning, gentlemen! I see we all made it through the night?' Josiah chimed with a smug smile.
'We're still alive, at least, which is more than I can say for the rest of the world,' Hosea chuckled.
Arthur tried to shake off the fog that lingered in his brain and took another sip of coffee as he listened to the others talk.
'You heard anything about this robbery attempt,' Javier said to Josiah, leaning back in his chair.
The man shook his head as he removed his hat and sat down next to Arthur.
'No,' Josiah said, 'no, I'm afraid I have not.'
'Which one was it again?' Javier turned to Hosea to ask the older man.
'It was the estate that belongs to Edwards & Co -'
But before Hosea could finish, Josiah stood again.
'What was that?' The man snapped, rather uncharacteristically.
'Edwards & Co, not too far south -'
'Was anyone hurt?' Josiah replied, his face growing more flustered by the second.
'I don't know if they were injured or not. All I know is that five of the robbers were killed.' Hosea said cautiously as they all stared at Josiah in confusion.
'Five?' Javier asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise.
'Yes, five.' Hosea answered, taking another puff of his cigarette.
'Gentlemen, please excuse me.' Josiah said as he left as quickly as he arrived.
'What was that about?' Javier asked, looking between them all.
Arthur cleared his throat, the conversation suddenly turning awkward.
'I think he's just excited,' Arthur finally answered, trying to lighten the mood. 'He's a city boy and he gets his first taste of excitement when he comes to visit us,' Arthur smiled, hoping his joke would break the tension.
'Yeah, well, I hope he enjoys it,' Javier replied, shooting a sideways glance at Arthur as he rose to his feet. 'And I'd better get going. Looks like I'll need to double check my work today.'
'Sounds like a good idea to me,' Arthur agreed, watching as Javier mounted his horse.
Hosea and Charles both left shortly afterwards, heading back to their respective businesses. Only Pearson remained with them, and Arthur could tell that he was enjoying the peace and quiet.
'Anything interesting happen while I was gone?' Arthur asked, turning to look at the man.
'Nothing worth mentioning.' Pearson shrugged.
'Well, at least you didn't get yourself shot,' Arthur grumbled as he stood and headed over to the water barrel, splashing some cold water on his face in a much needed reprieve.
He thought suspiciously about Josiah. The man was hardly known for his straight talking, but Arthur couldn't help but think of his abrupt leaving.
Something ain't right, he thought to himself as he took to his cot, contemplating a mid-morning nap to sleep off the rest of the hangover.
Sitting on the canvas, he removed his boots and jacket when something caught his attention. A handwritten letter, addressed to him, had been placed on the end of the bed.
He picked it up, inspecting the cursive, which he recognised instantly.
What does that damn woman want? Arthur thought, as his stomach turned.
Curious, he opened the envelope, reading her words.
Dear Arthur,
It read.
I've written this letter a hundred times or more and I cannot get it right. It's me. You know it's me from the bad handwriting. I know I said when last we spoke and I was going off to get married, that we would not speak again. I know I said a lot of things and I meant them, I suppose, at the time, but I am not so proud as to not speak to people who care for me, or cared for me.
Arthur sighed, running his hands through his hair. This was the last thing he wanted to read this morning as he felt the old wound that Mary had left him with resurface.
I've been in Valentine for a couple of months. I had some bad luck and, well, it's a long story and not an interesting one, but I am here for now. I saw a couple of the girls, or whatever the polite term for them is, that ran with you and your associates in town and I heard tell of a man who sounded like you. I would love to see you again, if you could spare me a little bit of your time. I'm renting a room at Chadwick Farm, just north of Valentine.
Yours,
Mary Linton
He folded the letter back up, putting it in the pocket of his pants. Arthur took another sip of coffee, wishing he hadn't drunk so much last night.
I guess I'll go see her, he decided. As he laid down on the camper and prayed he wouldn't see her face in his dreams.