"I turned to speak to God
About the world's despair
But to make bad matters worse
I found God wasn't there."
― Robert Frost
I'd practically thrown the pelts at Cripps. He had called after me as I mounted back up onto Aine, but there was no time to explain. Even if there had been time, I'm not sure what I would have said. I thanked the universe for Aine's strength and stamina, and spurred her into action. Her legs were moving double-time as we sprinted across Big Valley, making it to the boarder of New Hanover in record time. I was surprised I remembered the way, putting it down to the adrenaline. By the time we skidded to a halt near the camp entrance, both Aine and myself were lathered in sweat. I jumped from the saddle and marched into the trees, trying to find the opening.
"Who's there?" A deep voice came from ahead
"I need to see Arthur!" I shout, continuing up the path, focused only on my goal. That was, until, I heard the sound of a rifle loading. I stopped instantly and raised my hands above my head.
"That wasn't my question." the voice said again, I looked around for the source and found nothing but trunks and branches.
"I was here the other day! Please, I need to see Arthur! It's...well, it's in my pocket. I saw it in-"
I was cut off by the emergence of a tall and muscular man from behind a tree, his rifle was not only drawn but aimed right between my eyes. My heart leaped into my throat, but no matter how aware I was that I needed to back off, my feet stayed stubbornly rooted to the ground.
"Who've you found there, Charles?" another voice, loud and Irish this time, came from my right. I spun to face the new man.
"Someone for Arthur." Charles, the first man, replied. "She was here before."
"I was gone for a couple weeks and now you're just letting anyone come and go?" the Irish man replied lightly, before walking towards me. "I'll take 'er."
Charles grunted and lowered his weapon, I sighed in relief. But it was cut short when the unmistakable feeling of a revolver barrel pressed into the small of my back. My breath hitched, this was a mistake.
"Go on then, you clearly know the way." the man muttered. I began shuffling forward towards to opening in the trees. I could hear people bustling, I could hear people arguing, I could hear music. All of which came to a sudden stop the second I emerged into the opening.
A number of faces turned toward me, In the moment it looked like a crowd of hundreds, although if I'd had the capacity and focus to count, I would have found only around twenty. I recognized a few of them from the last time I was here, when I had caused equally as big of a scene. I spotted Arthur marching towards us, his eyes bright with rage.
"Put the gun down, Sean. You stupid fool." he spat; I heard the man laugh behind me. Sean.
"Calm down, Morgan. I'm just doin' me job." Sean replied, pushing me further into the camp. I looked round at Arthur, unsure if I were allowed to speak yet.
"Miss Kennedy. To what do we owe the fine pleasure of your company?" Dutch's melodic voice rang out as he stepped forward from the group, now gathered together near the fire.
"Would you mind?" I asked, gesturing over my shoulder to Sean, who's gun was still pressing against my spine. Dutch looked over at him and nodded, and the gun was gone. I immediately reached into my pockets to grab the bounty poster, only for the gun to return, harder this time.
"I'm not gonna shoot you for Christ's sake!" I snap. Sean lowered his gun again and moved aside, I pulled out the bounty poster and handed it to Dutch, before focusing my glare at Arthur.
"I thought you were keeping a low profile? What the hell is this? It's like a ghost town over there!"
Arthur leaned towards Dutch, who angled the poster for him to see, he grimaced but didn't look surprised. I put my hands on my hips, like my mother always had when she had found my brother and I digging in the herb garden, waiting for an explanation.
"God-damn Micah turned the whole thing into a massacre. I told you we shoulda left him to swing." Arthur said, hands clenched into fists.
"Ain't nobody swingin', Arthur." Dutch replied sternly. "Did you lead anyone here, Miss?"
It took me a moment to realize what he meant, I scoffed at the accusation.
"Oh yeah, brought the army. That's why I walked in at gunpoint." I said, voice thick with sarcasm. Dutch narrowed his eyes, making me think twice about my tone. "No. I came straight here as soon as I saw it."
"Good." he said, folding the poster up and tucking it into his breast pocket. "Best to stay clear of that area for a while, Son." he added, patting Arthur on the shoulder as he turned and made his way back to the group, signalling to them that everything was fine.
"There's a hole in the wall of the Jail. What happened?" I asked, turning my full attention to Arthur. He sighed and rubbed the back of his head.
"Well... I had to get 'em out somehow." he said sheepishly. I resisted the strong urge to roll my eyes.
"And after? With Skinny and... however many others?"
"You knew him?" he asked, eyebrows raised. I shook my head.
"Farley told me."
"Well, you'll have to ask Micah about that. Trust me, I wasn't planning on hanging around." he said, the irritation in his voice was unmissable.
"So, is this what you do? Just go round shooting folk?" I ask, voice rising higher than I intended. His expression shifted, the anger sparking in his eyes once again.
"That's a mighty high horse you've found yourself on..."
"I kill to retain, Arthur. Not to gain." I snapped, noticing a few heads turn back towards us.
"Is that so? You didn't kill those men for that bounty?" he retorted.
"That's different. That was kill or be killed."
"And the fifty bucks you earned for it? Ain't that gaining? Or don't it count if it's in the name of the law?" he replied, stepping forward to tower over me as he had done on that afternoon.
I recoiled at his words, gritting my teeth. Shit...he was right. I couldn't stand here and pretend I was any better than him just because there was no bounty on my head. No amount of debts paid or bounties roped could ever clean the bloodshed in my wake. I could tell myself it was surviving; it was what had to be done. But I'd still done it. I'd still set off looking for it. I'd have rather stepped over the bodies of the men in that ranch than sit in camp with my own thoughts, there was no moral high ground I could take. I signed and nodded, lowering my head in shame.
"It counts." I said, quietly. "I'm sorry."
He stepped back, allowing me space to shrink. He rubbed his chin, and then gestured to the table in the middle of the camp.
"Go sit down, I'll get you a drink." he said, walking off towards a wagon filled with provisions. There was a man there, a larger man, chopping meat off the hind legs of a deer. I noticed a stew pot placed on a table beside him and couldn't help the small smile that formed on my face, I guess there really was no avoiding the damn stew. I made my way over to the table and flopped down onto the chair dramatically, removing my hat and running my fingers through my hair, unsure of how to make amends.
"Can I speak to you?" A woman appeared on the seat beside me, making me jump. She had long hair and wild eyes. Her voice was coarse, as though it had been torn.
"Uh...yes, sure." I stuttered, sitting up straighter as she leaned closer.
"Arthur said something about some work you may have," she started, almost whispering. "Can I join you? I need to...get out of this camp. For a bit."
"Uh, yeah. Can you shoot?" I asked, being met with a small smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Yeah, I can shoot."
"Great. I'll, um, I'll let you know as soon as I've got any." I say, taken aback. She looked like she was about to burst into tears, or a fit of rage...I couldn't be sure which.
"Thank you." she said, before rising from the table and wondering over to sit beneath a tree, far away from the others.
I looked around at the other members of the camp, each of them busing themselves. A couple of women were sat together by the fire, repairing clothes. A man with a bottle of rum sat at the wheel of a wagon, another sat in shelter strumming a guitar. I noticed a woman with a small boy, she was the only one who didn't intermittently look over my way, instead she was fixated on another. Her gaze rested on a man chopping wood, who had unmistakable lacerations on the side of his face. I tried not to stare at him, instead looking for Hosea or Lenny, the familiar faces amongst the strangers.
"Here." Arthur had returned before I could spot them, holding out a bottle of beer. I took it gingerly, still embarrassed from my outburst. He sat beside me, groaning like an old man as he settled into the seat.
"You know, a few smaller pelts would make great covers for these chairs." I say, trying to dissipate the awkward air. "Would stop you getting splinters in your ass"
"Yeah? I'll keep an eye out." he said, taking a swig of his beer. I drank as well, aware that my attempt had not worked.
"Arthur I'm...sorry. I've never really known-"
"A bunch of killers?" he finished, flashing me a hard side eye. I lowered my head.
"Yes. But then again, I've never really known anyone." I add, taking another sip. He pursed his lips for a moment and then shifted, reaching out his beer towards me.
"No harm done." he said, I smiled and clinked my glass against his. Not to us, no.
We sat there for a moment, I wondered how long it would be until I was ushered out of here. Till Dutch decided I'd overstayed my welcome. It occurred to me that perhaps I already had.
"That blonde lady under the tree asked if I could take her on a wagon sale." I said, tilting my head towards her. Arthur chuckled beside me.
"Yeah, I noticed." he said. I watched her as she brought her knees up against her chest, hugging them tightly.
"She didn't seem...okay..."
"She ain't." he said. I waited for him to continue, curious. "Sadie, we found her up in Colter. O'Driscoll's killed her husband. Dread to think of what they did to her."
"O'Driscolls?" I asked, recognizing the name from bounty posters. I was sure they had robbed me during a sale once, taken as many of the goods at they could. The only reason they didn't get it all was because I'd seen them coming.
"Yeah, whole gang of 'em." he said, I noticed that his eyes had locked onto another man in the camp, a slender figure who was tending to the horses. Equally distant, I noted, as the lady under the tree. Sadie, Arthur had said her name was.
"You deal with 'em often?" I asked, Arthur signed and drank the last of his beer.
"Got some history. Bad business." he said, I'd learned better than to ask for more than that. Instead, I joined him in downing the dregs of the bottle and stood up. It was hard not to notice the faces around the camp that turned to me as I did.
"I'd better go." I said, suddenly feeling nervous from all the attention.
"I'll go with you, need to head to valentine." he said, also rising from his seat.
"More money to shake out of people?" I asked, keeping my tone playful but desperately hoping for a denial. I couldn't question morality any more today, not without something stronger than beer.
"Not this time. Got someone to meet." he said, scratching the back of his head nervously. He looked almost...bashful?
"I see." I say, curious.
We made our way over to the horses, where Arthur grabbed the same Tennessee Walker that he had the last time I'd seen him. He was clearly sticking with this one, I noticed how he carefully fed the horse before pulling the reins over his head to lead him.
"He got a name yet?" I ask
"Leonidas. I had a horse before; Boadicea. Seemed right to stick with the historical theme."
He was educated, then.
"I'll take your word for it." I said as we made our way through the trees, it felt like two separate worlds. Camp and not camp. In there and out here. Which was safer? I wasn't sure.
"Never read about any of it?" he asked
"Never read anything other than bounty posters and catalogues." I replied. "My Ma tried to teach me to get me to read books when I was little, but I didn't have the patience for it. I get by just fine."
He looked for a moment as though he was going to say something, but changed his mind. I ignored it, instead whistling for Aine to return from where I had left her. She came trotting over dutifully, mouth full of grass. We both mounted up and set off towards Valentine, it was a colder day today. It only just entered my mind that I was still wearing the clothes from my hunt, stained with blood and mud. No wonder they pulled a gun on me.
"Morgan...is that your last name?" I ask, remembering what Sean had called him after my arrival. He grunted in response, a confirmation, I could only assume. "Alright well, who's this woman you are meeting, Arthur Morgan?"
He snaps his head round to look at me, I can't help but laugh at him.
"How do you-"
"Oh please, your face is redder than the stain on my shirt." I quip, he lowers his head, obscuring it from view with his hat. It only makes me laugh harder.
"Oh, come on. All that puffing out your chest earlier about killin' and this is what makes you shy?"
"It...ain't like that." he says, voice smaller than I thought it could ever get.
"What is it like?" I ask, amused. He leans back in his saddle, clearly uncomfortable with my questioning.
"It ended a long time ago, for good reason too. I ain't heard from her in years, and now she sends me this letter askin' to meet... I don't know..."
"Think she wants to get together again?" I ask, very aware that it was not at all my business.
"I don't know." he said
"Do you want her to want to get together again?"
"I don't know!"
"For all that reading you've done, you don't know much, do you?" I joke, looking over at him. His face may have been hidden by his hat, but I didn't miss the small smile tugging on his lips.
As we arrived at Valentine station, I bid him farewell, wishing him luck. He rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, thanks." he said, dismissing me with a wave.
"Oh, we are moving. Over to the Grizzlies, just above Moonstone Pond. Emerald Ranch is probably the closest post office. I figured you would want to tell Dutch." I said, offering my location to not only him but an entire band of outlaws without a moment's hesitation. He nodded swiftly, and then continued down the road without me.