"Your father?" Arthur asked, confused.
John Browning cast a sardonic gaze toward Arthur. "No, I'm her long-lost twin brother." He looked back to Sadie. "Where is your husband, Mr. Adler? Don't tell me something's happened between you two. I rather liked him."
"No, pa," Sadie replied, her voice hitching slightly. "Jake is... dead." Her breath hitched.
"Oh," Mr. Browning replied simply. He stepped forward and enveloped Sadie in a hug. "I'm so sorry, daughter."
After a few moments, they split apart, and Mr. Browning turned to Arthur as if just noticing him. "So I assume this handsome man is your new husband?"
Sadie and Arthur both looked at each other then back at Mr. Browning. "That's not exactly-" Sadie began.
"We're not-" Arthur interrupted.
Mr. Browning smiled at the two of them. "I take it this relationship is rather new to the both of you, then? Not quite there yet it seems. Well, in that case..." He turned to Arthur with a deadly look in his eye. He closed the few feet between them, their rather significant height difference making him no less intimidating to Arthur. He brought his cane down on Arthur's foot, causing the younger man to muffle a grunt and attempt to step backwards, but Mr. Browning seized him by the lapel of his vest. "What are your reasons for courting my daughter?" he snarled, a razor's edge to his voice.
Arthur planted his free foot squarely behind him, providing him once more with a rooted stance. He straightened as best he could, and looked Mr. Browning directly in the eye. "Mr. Browning, sir," he began, "I intend to remain with your daughter for as long as she will have me. If that be 'til death, then so be it. But I'll only stay as long as she will have me. I love her, sir, with every fiber of my being."
Sadie watched in wonderment, her heart filling with love for the man. She smiled to herself as she watched the situation continue.
Mr. Browning removed his cane from its place on Arthur's foot, stepping back to allow the younger man to collect himself. He brushed the lapels of Arthur's vest. "Well, it's good to know my daughter will be in good hands." He glanced over Arthur's shoulder, to the shotgun slung across his back. "You use a '97 Winchester pump-action?"
"Oh. Yeah," Arthur replied, "I don't quite get along with semi-automatic shotguns."
"May I?" Mr. Browning asked. Arthur obliged, bringing the shotgun to his hands with a speed that might rival a gunslinger's pistol draw. Arthur proceeded to unload the shotgun, working the action until all five shells had been ejected. He caught all of them in midair, slotting them onto his bandolier.
Mr. Browning smirked at Arthur's display, taking the weapon in his hands. He flipped it over, taking in every detail. He lifted it to his face, taking in the smell of a well-used firearm. "I helped design this weapon, you know. An excellent piece of craftsmanship."
"You helped design that?" Arthur asked in amazement.
"Why, yes, yes I did," he replied. "I have provided input for a great many weapons in current production." He motioned to Arthur's repeater. "I take it that is a Winchester model 1894?"
Arthur's face split into a surprised grin at his question. "Um, yeah. Wait, you don't mean..."
"Well, yes. I designed that firearm as well. What is the caliber for which it is chambered? I designed it for .32-40 Winchester and .38-55 Winchester."
Arthur drew the rifle from its place slung over his back. "Mine uses .30 Winchester Center Fire, actually."
"Interesting," Mr. Browning replied, a smile growing on his own face. "Well, I suppose they would have made a few changes after I was done with it. Chambered it for additional calibers and such things."
Arthur turned away from them to reload his weapons, giddy with delight. Mr. Browning's grin faded as he pulled Sadie a short distance away, leaning close to her.
He glanced around, making sure no one else was nearby. "Sadie, I must warn you, I fear your dear Arthur here is an outlaw."
Sadie gave him an intrigued look. "How'd you figure it out?"
Mr. Browning stammered for a moment. "Well, his weapons are well-used, regularly cleaned, and they smell of gun smoke, yet he wears no badge to signify employment with the law." He stated at her, concern evident in his gaze. "I'll be perfectly frank with you, daughter. I had though your reaction would be a bit more... surprised. I'm ashamed to say it, but I was hoping you might be horrified by this development."
Sadie scoffed quietly. "I know he has a price on his head, Pa. Hell, I probably do by this point."
"What?" Mr. Browning gasped in horror, stepping back away from her. He covered his mouth with a hand. "My daughter, a criminal!"
Sadie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. This was why she'd been avoiding this exact issue in their correspondence over the past few months, ever since she'd joined up with the Van Der Lindes. This would always have been his reaction. "Pa, I know. It's a bit difficult to process, but the group I've been with - they're different. They don't kill innocents, they don't target the poor and the helpless. They're not bad people."
"You've joined a gang?" he replied, his horror mounting.
"Yes, Pa," she said slowly, trying to keep her temper. "I've joined a gang, but they're not..." her voice trailed off as she looked over at Arthur, who was humming happily to himself as he made a show of loading his shotgun. "They're not all bad."
Mr. Browning followed her gaze. "I suppose..." he fell silent as he gathered his thoughts. "He does seem to be a good influence on you. Your last few letters were rather worrying, I had hoped you might have had someone to help you deal with your... troubles. I'm glad to see you did."
Sadie took a breath. "Arthur's too good for me. He'll never say it, and he'll deny it if anyone else says it, but he really is a good man. A good person. Better than me, anyway." A tear slid down her cheek, catching the notice of her father.
He chuckled to himself. "My sweet, beautiful daughter." He cupped her face with one hand, brushing the tear away with his thumb. "How could I have ever doubted you?"
Sadie cupped his hand in her own, grateful for the unusually loving gesture from her stern father. Mr. Browning brought his hand down and waved Arthur back over.
"If you have some time, there is something that I have brought with me that might interest both of you." Sadie could've sworn she saw a twinkle in his eyes. "Well, it will at the very least interest Mr. Morgan here."
He walked to the seat he had vacated so many minutes ago and picked up a briefcase. Setting it on the seat, he entered a combination and opened the case. From the case he drew a box. He returned to where they stood, cradling the box like a family heirloom. He opened the box and removed its contents. "This is the result of my latest project. I had meant to give it to you, Sadie. As a gift." He handed it to Sadie, who gazed upon it with awe.
It was a weapon like none she'd ever seen before. It looked like something along the lines of the Mauser or Borschardt semi-automatic pistols she'd seen at the gunsmiths, and yet possessed so many unique qualities. She moved her hand over the grip, feeling the rough texture of the wood plates. She wielded it in one hand, feeling the weight and balance of the gun. The grip sat just right in her hand. She noticed multiple moving parts; a button, the use of which she could not see, two levers that fit into slots on the upper half of the pistol, and the hammer. But she saw no cylinder, no obvious moving parts besides the hammer, nothing to indicate a magazine of any sort. The top half of the weapon just seemed to be a brick of steel. How did this thing work?
"Pa?" She asked. "Where's the moving parts? Where's the magazine?"
"Ah, that is the ingenious part," Mr. Browning replied with a self-satisfied grin on his face. "If I may..."
Sadie handed it to him. He flicked the rearmost of the two switches, then pulled the top half backward over the hammer, locking in the pulled-back position. Sadie saw a slot appear, someplace a round might go. But the question remained: where was the magazine? She didn't know her father to be one for making single shot firearms.
"You load it like so," he continued, bringing forth something that looked not unlike a stripper clip for a Mauser from his jacket. He pressed the button on the weapon, and the core of the grip fell out. Arthur caught it before either of them could react, holding it out to Mr. Browning. "Thank you, Mr. Morgan," he said, putting it into his jacket pocket. He took the one that held the rounds and inserted it into the grip. It clicked into place, he flicked another switch that was engaged to keep the weapon pulled back, and the top flew forward. "Now it is ready to be fired."
"It's beautiful," Sadie said. "I ain't ever seen nothing like it."
"I have," Arthur added. "At the gunsmith in Saint Denis. He's got something that looks a lot like this. The Model 1899 semi-automatic pistol, I think."
"I think," Mr. Browning replied, quickly and deftly emptying the weapon of its rounds, "that I may know which firearm you're talking about." He scratched his chin, casting his mind back. "I designed a handgun that matches your description a while ago, for a Belgian producer by the name of Fabrique Nationale, based out of Herstal. You're quite right, that weapon and this one are quite similar, visually. However, those similarities stop at the surface level. This weapon is unique."
"What do you mean, Pa?" Sadie asked.
Mr. Browning grew a knowing smile. "I mean, my dear, that this is one of the prototypes for my design. And I want you to have it."
"Me? I mean, well," Sadie stammered, searching for words. "I would love it, Pa, but I'm afraid I don't really use this kind of gun. I'm more of a six-gun girl."
Mr. Browning's smile faltered, but only a little. "Perhaps your sweetheart here might be more keen, then? You use something, well, similar in concept." He glanced at Arthur's gun belt, which held a Schofield and a Mauser at present.
"I would be honored, sir," Arthur replied, taking the box and cradling it reverently, "to use a weapon personally crafted by you."
"Wonderful. Mind you," he continued as he watched Arthur put the box in his satchel, "it will be a bit more complicated to clean."
"Understood, Mr. Browning. I deal with complicated weapons all the time."
"Marvelous." Mr. Browning donned a derby hat and tapped his cane against the ground. "Best be off, then. Give my best to your friends, daughter." He shook Arthur's hand, then gave Sadie a light hug. He left through one of the many doors to a waiting carriage.
"Well, that was interesting," Arthur stated. He turned to Sadie. "You still wanna go to Strawberry?"
"Yeah," Sadie replied. "Let's get our tickets."
Cutting it a little short. I had a plan for a conversation in another scene, but I think ending it here works a little better. Thank you to those that review, especially Phillipe363. Speaking of which, please leave a review with any thought you may have on the chapter. I welcome the advice, tips and criticisms that help me write a better story. I have it from a reliable source that my first few chapters had some pretty egregious errors in spelling, word choice and grammar. Sorry about that. Starting from chapter 4, all chapters are being reread and edited.
Next chapter will have some interesting developments, I think. See y'all next time!