Ugh this has been the worst couple of weeks for writer's block! I know exactly what I want to happen next chapter, but this one really stumped me. It's probably kinda crappy, but I decided to just muscle through it so I can get to the chapters I'm actually looking forward to. Please review!!!! It helps me so much! Also, I'm still looking for a beta reader so please PM me if you're willing to take me in!
Marlowe
Marlowe gasped as she splashed icy water on her face from the creek, grateful for the chance to clean up after the events of the last couple of days. The creek water was so cold, she was surprised to not see chunks of ice flowing downstream. She glanced beside her and was startled to see three of the other women stripping down to their undergarments and splashing into the creek, the water reaching past their waists.
The young black woman caught her look and smiled, teeth chattering. "It's warmer than it was last time," she said with a shrug.
"Not nearly warm enough to tempt me," the dark-haired woman on the shore beside Marlowe shuddered. She was the one Marlowe had seen with the young boy following her around.
"Miss Grimshaw, will you join us?" one of the girls in the stream asked, running her fingers through her long wet hair.
Miss Grimshaw shook her head. "I'll stay on shore with Mrs. Adler and our guest here. I bathed yesterday."
The busty blonde woman in the water splashed at Marlowe. "And what about you? Water gets better longer you're in it."
It did sound nice to fully immerse herself and scrub away the dirt and dust from the last few days. Hesitantly, she looked to Miss Grimshaw, who nodded curtly. Marlowe began to loosen her dress.
A few minutes later, the frigid creek was taking her breath away as she waded toward the other girls, stripped down to her undergarments. The black woman chuckled at her shivering. "Just dunk your head and get it over with," she advised.
Marlowe obeyed, gasping a bit when she emerged. "That'll wake you up," she spluttered, though it was feeling more tolerable the longer she swam.
"Definitely better than the last place we were at," the busty blonde grinned. "Didn't much like melting snow for a wash-up. Anyway, I'm Karen. That there is Tilly-" she gestured toward the black woman- "and that's Marybeth." The brown-haired woman gave a little half-curtsy.
Marlowe tilted her head awkwardly. "Nice to meet you all."
"And this is the part in conversation where you say your name," Tilly said with a wink.
"Oh. Sorry, I'm Marlowe." Her face burned slightly. What was wrong with her? The last couple of days, it seemed like she totally forgot how to interact with other humans.
Marybeth leaned forward interestedly. "So, Marlowe," she began, "what's your story?"
Her face burned slightly, and she briefly considered being vague. She decided there was no point. "I scammed your leader out of some money."
Tilly whistled. "That doesn't sound good."
Marlowe could only nod, stomach twisting in knots. "I don't think I can leave until I come up with the money to pay him back."
"That doesn't sound like Dutch," Marybeth said, wrinkling her nose. "How much was it?"
She let out an involuntary hollow chuckle. "About six hundred dollars."
To her surprise, rather than acting upset, the girls whistled, clearly impressed. "Well, shit," Karen snorted. "If they was dumb enough to give you that much money, I'd say Dutch deserves it."
"And that was out of the camp fund?" Tilly clarified.
"I'd hope so," Karen huffed. "If Dutch was holding out that much money on us, I'd be pretty upset."
Tilly frowned deeply. "Still, I can't believe he'd be that cavalier about our savings."
Marlowe smirked slightly. "Which was why he was only going to give me a hundred to invest in a copper mining opportunity. That Micah was the fool that gave me six hundred."
"Well that checks out," scowled Marybeth. "So what are you gonna do?"
Marlowe paused before answering, hoping some divine inspiration would strike. None did. "I don't know."
The three women looked at each other, as though communicating with their minds. At last, Tilly spoke. "Well, you conned the smartest man we know. Perhaps you could do something like that?"
"I'm afraid that might be difficult," Marlowe said bitterly. As a grifter, she had a small compendium of potential leads stored away, and had been going through them in her head for the last hour to determine if any of them were possible in her current state. Unfortunately, the few that she felt she could pull off involved her going solo, and there was no way the Van der Linde gang were going to allow that. "I've lost my touch the last few weeks."
"If it'll make a difference," Marybeth said kindly, "we'll help you."
"You will?"
Karen leaned back to wet her hair and began to comb her fingers through it. "Why not? Could be fun. We'll poke around Valentine and see if there are any fools with too much money about."
"There's usually an overabundance of that in these shit towns," Tilly said.
Marlowe stumbled over her words for a moment before finally letting out a breathless "Thank you. That's really-"
"Miss Reid!" She jolted and whirled around back to the shore. Miss Grimshaw was waiting there, a bundle of clothes under one arm.
"You'd better go," Tilly warned. "Miss Grimshaw doesn't like to be kept waiting."
Marlowe waded her way back to shore obediently. Miss Grimshaw held out the bundle for her to take as she emerged barefoot from the water. "A few of the boys brought your wagon back to camp. Figured you could use some fresh clothes."
Marlowe accepted it. "Thank you, ma'am."
"Don't thank me yet," said Miss Grimshaw sternly. "You've got work to do. If you don't want to resume your post tied to that tree, you'll have to be useful around the camp. Understood?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Miss Grimshaw folded her arms and studied her for a moment. "Make no mistake, missy, you're still a prisoner here. But if you do as you're told, we'll get along swimmingly. Now get dressed."
--
Several days passed without incident. Marlowe found herself going more and more numb as she labored about the camp. True to her word, Miss Grimshaw had put her to work, scrubbing dishes, helping Mr. Pearson, the camp cook, prepare the daily stew, stacking firewood, and so on. The other gang members gave her a wide berth under Dutch's orders. She suspected that he didn't want word getting out about his and Micah's blunder, though within a day of telling Karen, Tilly, and Marybeth everyone seemed to know anyway. The glares from Molly O'Shea, Bill, and a few others were enough to confirm it.
The hard work she didn't mind. So long as she kept up with Miss Grimshaw's demands, the matronly woman treated her kindly. But with each passing hour, the dread that always lingered in the pit of her stomach grew. Her debt payment was due in a few short days, and the words of her uncles rang in her ears, his oath of what would happen if she missed a payment. I will find them, and you will watch them die. Then you will take their place.
She had to get out of the camp, and she had to make some money, fast. Unfortunately, her most recent failures had rattled her enough to where every lead she had felt impossible.
Miss Grimshaw normally shadowed her pretty closely in order to remain the dutiful taskmaster. (Though Marlowe had a sneaking suspicion it was also to ward off unwanted attention.) Today, however, the older woman had her head in a bucket all morning, looking quite queasy and squinting against the bright sun. "I'm gettin' to be too old for these damned drinking games," she had mumbled before seizing the bucket again to vomit. "This doesn't mean you get the day off, girl. I expect you to keep yourself busy. Are we clear?"
As she struggled to carry a large stack of three or four logs from the wood pile to the scout fire, she was so deep in thought that she almost ran right into Arthur Morgan. She stumbled and nearly dropped the logs. He threw his hands out and righted her. "Whoa there, miss. Let me give you a hand there."
"I'm quite capable, Mr. Morgan," Marlowe said coolly, stepping around him and continuing on to the scout fire.
Arthur stepped in front of her again. "Don't be prideful now, just give me the damn logs."
"I've got it," Marlowe scowled as he took a few off the stack anyway.
"I know you've got it, woman," he growled. Together, they dropped the fire wood beside the scout fire. Micah Bell was on watch at the moment, and as always whenever she happened to be near him, Marlowe shuddered involuntarily. Please don't talk to me, please don't talk to me…
"I do love a girl that can work," Micah said languidly, winking at her. His eyes twinkled in a way that made her nauseous. "I like 'em strong." Marlowe turned away from him without acknowledging him. It seemed to frustrate him. "Aw, come on now, girl. I paid ya a compliment. The least you could do is thank me."
She still refused to acknowledge his existence and began to stride away. As much as she fantasized about punching the bastard in the face, now was not the time. She heard him mutter something under his breath and was grateful she couldn't make it out.
"Fucking snake," Arthur snarled quietly.
Marlowe was slightly annoyed that he was still walking beside her. "Can I help you with something, Mr. Morgan? I'm a bit busy, if you couldn't tell."
"As a matter of fact, you can," said Arthur, slowing his step a bit to look at her. "You're coming riding with me."
Marlowe blinked in surprise, the words blurting out of her mouth before she could stop them. "No, I'm not."
"Don't be stupid, of course you are," Arthur ordered. "I'm going into town for some things at the general store and need help loading up the wagon."
Marlowe turned on her heel and stalked away. "Well, you better find some other indentured servant to help you because I most certainly will not."
A firm hand clamped around Marlowe's arm, yanking her back the burly outlaw. "You ain't in a position to argue now. Besides, I'd think you would be dyin' to get out of this camp."
"I think I'll live." Marlowe's voice raised a bit. Besides Micah, Arthur was currently the last person she wanted to spend time alone with. She still hadn't forgiven him for allowing her to be taken prisoner by his gang and for nearly letting Micah hurt her, even though she had saved his life and given up a considerable sum in the process.
Arthur growled and rubbed his face in frustration. "Damn it, woman! I'm trying to help you!"
Marlowe yanked her arm free. Blood was pounding in her ears, her face flushed from rage. "How many times do I need to tell you," she snapped. "I. Do. Not. Need. Your. Help. I don't want your help. I want you to leave me the hell alone and let me serve out the rest of my sentence without your half-assed attempts to make up for your ungrateful little-"
"Ungrateful?" said Arthur incredulously. "What the hell did you expect me to do, just let you walk off with our money? That's our entire savings. You should feel lucky-"
"Oh yes, so very, very lucky." Now she was shouting. She could feel multiple eyes from around the camp on her, but couldn't care less. "Lucky I got caught taking stolen money from a gang of thieves and murderers so I could send it right around to my usurer. Lucky that my usurer is probably hunting me down right now because I didn't send him my payment. Lucky that the O'Driscolls probably have a blood bounty on my head. All because I decided to save your sorry ass and give up the bonds..." She trailed off suddenly, For the first time in days, a wide, satisfied grin spread across face.
"What's wrong with you?" Arthur asked, looking slightly alarmed.
Marlowe took a deep, shaking breath before turning to him and saying, very simply. "The bonds."
It only took Arthur a moment to realize what she was talking about. "What makes you think Colm hasn't fenced them yet? Or spent all the cash?"
Adrenaline was spiking through Marlowe's veins. She began to pace almost frantically, mind working double time. "I suppose there's no way to know for sure... but there is only one fence in the entire state that has the ability to take those bonds, and he'd want to wait a few weeks before making the exchange just to keep the heat off of himself. I don't think they'd try to go to the one in Blackwater right now, with all of the Pinkertons about."
"Miss Reid, if you've got a solid way to repay your debt, I'm more than willing to help out," Arthur said hesitantly. "But goin head to head with the O'Driscolls, especially given that they know you've already swindled them once, seems like suicide. There's gotta be another-"
Marlowe cut him off. "I think I've made it clear that I don't want your help, Mr. Morgan." He really couldn't get the message through his head, could he?
"You're shit out of luck there," he snapped. "Do you really think Dutch is gonna let you leave this camp to go after the O'Driscolls without help?"
He was right. Infuriating, but right. Marlowe continued to pace, brow furrowed in concentration. "I suppose not," she relented. "I guess we'll do it your way
Heaving a sigh, Arthur guided her toward the wagon. Marlowe came with him half willingly. "Come on," Arthur said. "I've got a...friend who usually knows what the O'Driscolls are up to. She might know if they've managed to unload those bonds yet."
Her loathing toward the man wasn't gone yet. That much was certain. But for now, Marlowe had to put those feelings aside. She had work to do.
Again, so sorry for the choppy work. Writer's block is a bitch. Better things to come in the next chapter!
