"If one by one we counted people out
For the least sin, it wouldn't take us long
To get so we had no one left to live with.
For to be social is to be forgiving."
― Robert Frost
"You don't have to go," Cripps stood by the wagon as I loaded my rifle. "We can hang onto it for a few more days."
"Why would we do that?" I asked, not bothering to look at him. My heart was hammering inside of my chest, we had barely spoken since the attack and the intensity was growing with each passing minute.
"Because you are hurt."
"Nothin' new."
"Nora..."
I ignored him, reaching up to place the rifle under the wagon seat before making my way around the front to attach the harness to Grogan, our old wagon horse. Cripps shuffled alongside me nervously, his hand reached out to touch my arm. I gripped his wrist before he could, tight enough that it shocked him, not tight enough that it hurt.
"Don't." I warned quickly, before letting go of his wrist "I would rather be out there with my hands still tied behind my back than stay in this camp with you for another minute."
He recoiled at my words, stumbling back until he was sat against his butcher's table. I didn't mean it, not really. I hooked Grogan to the wagon and climbed on before urging him into motion, sparing not a moment to look back at Cripps' shrinking frame. Amidst the chaos of the last 24 hours, I'd almost forgotten that this was not supposed to be a solo trip. It was only upon Cripps' remark about the morning weather that I remembered Arthur and our plan to meet in Black Bone Forest. I hoped I wasn't too late.
I reached up to touch my face, the swelling had gone down considerably since yesterday but I could tell it was still pretty ugly. Can't imagine I was too unrecognizable, my hair was still red. That was something.
It didn't take me long to arrive at the crossroads, but there was no Arthur. I looked around for him, anxious to be idle for too long with the stock so clear for all to see. Shit. Should've known better than to expect the son of a bitch to -
"What the hell happened to your face?" a voice came from beside the wagon, I turned to see Arthur leaning back in his saddle, brows furrowed.
"A lot. Thought you might not be coming."
"Time escapes me." he said, dismounting from his horse. I could not help but notice that it was not the same tiny horse I had seen him on last.
"New horse?" I asked, he sighed and shook his head.
"Nah not really. Picked him up from a ranch near Colter a few weeks back. He's alright." he said, giving the horse a pat on the neck before grabbing his repeater and climbing up onto the wagon, getting comfortable.
"Well...at least he fits you." I comment, shooting him a weak smile. I'm not sure how much of it translated through my bruises, but he gave one in return.
"Yeah, he fits." he agreed, before a more genuine concern spread across his face. He took a moment to look over my battered face, a shyness filled me and begged me to turn away from him, but I didn't. "What happened?" He asked again, his tone softer.
"What usually happens when a couple drunk pigs find a woman alone?" I say, not wanting to give more detail than that. His expression darkened considerably; his jaw clenched.
"I assume they ain't still breathin'?" he asked through gritted teeth. A quick laugh escaped my lips.
"You think I'm a killer, Arthur?"
"Oh, I know you're a killer. You nearly shot me for picking up a bounty poster." he said, jaw relaxing again.
"That's true." I said, chuckling at how ridiculous it sounded. At how ridiculous it was. "I can assure you they ain't doing much more than feeding the fauna."
He nodded, satisfied with the news. I gathered the reins and urged Grogan to move forwards through the forest, we'd not get there in time at this rate.
"So, you gonna tell me where we're headed?" Arthur asked, looking back to check that his horse was following us.
"You know Van Horn?" I asked, Arthur paused for a moment before shaking his head. "It's a trading post to the east, a bit of a ride I'm afraid. Should make it there before sundown if we keep a good pace, it's up to you where you go from there."
Arthur pursed his lips, deep in thought, his hand covered the opening of his satchel as though checking it was still there. I considered him for a moment, he looked like a true outdoorsman. His nose was sunburnt, the corners of his eyes were creased from years of squinting at the sun. I wondered if he'd ever slept with a roof over his head.
"Somewhere you were hoping to be?" I asked
"I guess. Have to pay a visit to a ...friend." he replied, still lost in thought. I couldn't help but feel nosy at his hesitation, but thought it better of it.
We rode in silence for a while, Arthur would routinely call for his horse to ensure he was still trailing behind us. I asked him to keep an eye out for bandits as we crossed through the cliffs between Valentine and Emerald Ranch, knowing all too well what good hiding spots they made.
We had just passed the heartland oil fields when a frail looking man jumped out in front of us. I instinctively tugged on the reins, bringing us to a sudden halt. Arthur looked at me like I had grown another head and went to take control of the wagon.
"No wait! Please, Mister! My horse just up and died on me and I got no way home!" the man said, his accent had a thick southern twang that was almost impossible to understand, even for me.
Arthur paused for a moment to look over at the man, I could see a flicker of compassion in his eyes. He'd paused just long enough for the man to draw his gun, pointing it between the both of us. My heart skipped a beat and I reached down for my rifle, but there was no use. I heard a sharp and deafening noise beside me, it took me a whole two seconds to register what had taken place. Arthur sat; pistol pointed at the now lifeless body of the man before us. I hadn't heard him draw; I hadn't even seen him move. I was as stunned as I was grateful. Arthur calmly holstered his pistol once more and jumped off the wagon, before searching through the pockets of the man he'd shot.
"You're fast..." I commented, still in a daze. He dragged the man's corpse out of the path and climbed back up, whistling for his horse before he took the reins and moved us forward. My heart was doing double time, and yet he didn't even bat an eyelid. While I'd known that he was on the run, I'd avoided the bigger question of what he was on the run for...
"So, you must have a lot of people out looking for you." I say, he shifts in the seat, turning to face me with a hard expression on his face.
"Why do you say that? Am I not here to shoot people who try to rob you?"
"That ain't it. I just can't imagine anyone would willingly go to Colter at this time of year. You had to have been chased." I said, trying to keep the tone light. He hesitated for a moment and then laughed, a real laugh.
"Well, you are right about that." he said, not elaborating further.
"What did you do?"
"Something foolish." he said with a sigh. I wanted to press him for more information, but it wouldn't be appreciated. I was surprised with how he had offered up as it was.
"Don't you care that I know? I could always rat you out."
"It would be pretty stupid to tell me if you were planning to."
"You haven't exactly tried to hide it." I said, leaning over to grab the reins from him as we got closer to Emerald Ranch.
"Mm... you gonna bring me in? I heard the bounty is pretty good." he said, I looked over to see him smirking.
"I'm flattered that you think I could!" I laughed, despite my athletic build he still had the fame of two of me. And I'd just seen how wickedly precise he was with a gun. He'd be going through my pockets before my hand reached my holster. "Still, why do you trust that I won't?"
He was quiet for a while, looking out at the road ahead of us. I wondered if my questioning had caused him to reconsider, if he was now thinking of the cleanest way to dispose of me once we get into the trees. My heart started to sink, I was still pretty weak from the attack and knew I wouldn't be able to fight back. There was no way I could grab my rifle quicker than he could draw his gun. Maybe I could jump from the wagon, maybe I could offer the wagon...the stock was worth a fair few hundred dollars.
"I don't know," his voice cut through my thoughts "I just do. Why did you trust that I wouldn't shoot you for your stock?"
"I never said that I did." I replied quickly. While true, there was a small part of me that knew he wouldn't. As for why I knew that, the mystery remained.
We fell back into silence as I maneuvered the wagon through the forest by the Kamassa River, looking for a crossing. Arthur's horse was still trotting along behind the wagon with impressive loyalty. The sun had lowered to just above the horizon by the time we got to Van Horn, Cripps' contact met us at the dock and helped unload the stock. At the end of it all I was six hundred dollars up without having to raise my gun. I handed Arthur his share, adding an extra fifty dollars. Compensation for the life taken.
"Well," I said, lighting a cigarette "What's your plan now?"
"I gotta visit that friend in Valentine." he said, his tone made it clear that he wasn't looking forward to it. A feeling I could relate all too well to. I hop back up onto the wagon, gesturing for him to join. He climbed aboard.
"You sure?"
"Course. If I'm being honest, I'm looking for anything to keep me away from my camp for a while longer." I admit, spurring Grogan forwards.
He raised his eyebrows, waiting for me to continue. I suppose there was no harm that could come from venting to him, perhaps it would stop me from going for Cripps' throat when I got back to camp.
"It's complicated. My camp companion is...well...he's just as flawed as the rest of us, I guess. But he let me down, he wasn't there when I needed him. I don't know if I'm actually mad at him, or just mad at myself for relying on him." I say, handing Arthur the reins so that I could grab my coat from the back of the wagon. Keeping myself busy so that I didn't get emotional. He took them without hesitation and spent a moment ruminating on what I'd said.
"Family?" he finally asks, I shrug.
"I suppose so. In an unconventional sense."
"Ah, I understand that. Family can be complicated." he agreed "Hell, I'm stuck in a mudhole miles from home because family is complicated."
"Where is home?" I ask, clambering back over the seat.
He smiled, eyes seeing a view that wasn't there. "West."
I'd not spend much time out west, never getting further than the Great Plains. I had grown up in thick overgrowth of luscious green forests, far from any desert. But I'd heard plenty about the west, I'd heard it was the last true lawless land. I'd heard the only thing more dangerous than the people around you was the sun above you. A red and rocky landscape where the snakes outnumbered the towns entire population. I'd like to see it. My brother used to tell me that he wanted to be a real cowboy, he wanted a life spent lassoing cattle and chewing tobacco. I smiled at the memory of him, wishing he could see who I was sat next to.
We made small talk for the rest of the journey. I learned that Arthur was camped with a large group, some of which he clearly had a deep admiration for, some of which he clearly did not. He told me about a bear he'd tracked with a fella named Hosea, and how it had bested the both of them. He'd laughed as he recounted how his friend had so confidently led the way only to end up hiding behind a rock. He told me about how he'd spent most of the last week trying gather pelts in the hope of making their camp feel a bit more like home, I offered to hunt with him before I'd even thought it through.
As we rode into Valentine Grogan had begun to falter, I cooed softly at him in comfort. The poor thing had been pulling the wagon for miles. I decided I would see if I could leave the wagon in the stable till the morning and let him rest, before we continued on to camp. I turned to ask Arthur where he wanted to be let out, but he had a strained look on his face.
"You alright?" I ask
He pressed his mouth into a firm line and sat forward in his seat "Can I be honest?"
"I assumed you had only been honest."
He signed, taking off his hat to scratch the back of his head. He suddenly looked smaller, like a child who's been caught stealing candy.
"I ain't meeting a friend. Someone borrowed some money from us and... I gotta..." he didn't finish his sentence, shameful.
I don't know why this is the thing that made my stomach drop, I'd been under no illusion that he wasn't capable of quick and extreme violence. I knew he was an outlaw; I know he had caused enough damage that he'd been forced to live in the snowy mountains. And yet I had trusted him with my livelihood. I'd sat with him, comfortably, for the whole day. I'd put bullets in men to cover his back. But... money lending? This was a different kind of insidious. The kind that prayed on the vulnerable.
"I can see the look on your face and trust me, I know." he said, it sounded like an apology.
"Then why are you doing it?" I ask, aware of the angry wobble in my voice. "You gonna beat them too? Till they look like I do?"
The wagon was at a halt at this point, both of us too caught up to continue. He shoved his hat back onto his head, clearly frustrated.
"Why does anyone do anything? We need money to get the hell outta here. It ain't my fault if some charity-loving ranch dweller took a loan he couldn't afford." He snapped, jumping out of the wagon and landing in the slop of the mud below.
Charity-loving? Ranch dweller? Surely not.
"Mr. Downes?" I ask, the look of surprise on Arthur's face confirms it. "You can't go beating up Mr. Downes, he's sick as it is!"
"That ain't my problem."
"You gonna kill the man in front of his son? For what, a few bucks?" I shouted, jumping from the wagon myself and marching up to him. He stood well over a foot taller than me, but I felt like a giant.
"It's more than a few bucks, and it sure as shit ain't none of your business. I should'a kept quiet." he muttered, turning on his heel and heading towards the main street. I'm not sure what came over me, but the bag on my shoulder suddenly felt too heavy.
"How much? I'll pay!" I shout. Arthur freezes, his head turned to look over his shoulder. I had really lost my mind.
"Why in hell would you do that?" he questioned, fully turning back to face me.
"I consider myself to be a good judge of character." I started, pulling out billfolds from my satchel and thrusting them towards him "Please, don't prove me wrong."
He looked down at the money, crumpled in my shaking hand, and stood there for a long time, deliberating. I waited.