Welcome back! I apologize for the long delay for this chapter. I just graduated as a nurse and dove straight into the ER...during the beginning of the summer...when more people than ever are doing dumb, risky activities...so fourteen straight twelve hour grave shifts later I'm finally recovered enough to start writing again. Please review!!! Still on the lookout for that magical unicorn of a beta reader!

Marlowe

Thursday morning came with a blustery cold wind that rattled through Horseshoe Overlook. More than once, Marybeth, Abigail, and a few other well-meaning people in the camp had approached Marlowe offering a jacket to stave off the chill, but she had refused each time. The anxiety that kept her up most of the night gave her plenty of adrenaline to keep her warm.

The last twenty-four hours had been spent plotting the raid on the bonds in Dutch's tent alongside the leader himself, Charles, Javier, and Arthur. The plan would rely on her acting skills pretty heavily, but Marlowe had gone over in her mind a hundred times what to say. There was still the risk of being bushwhacked by the O'Driscolls several miles from the cabin, according to Dutch, but she was also confident that Colm wouldn't dare bring too many men, for fear of scaring off the fence. Still, there were always just a few too many 'ifs' with Marlowe's plans lately for her to be comfortable with assumptions. Given the short timeline, however, this would have to do.

When the time came to mount up, Marlowe was pleasantly surprised when Arthur gestured for her to ride her own Nokota, Freya. She hadn't been permitted anywhere near the horses, though she had noticed the former O'Driscoll, Kieran, brushing the gray-flecked white horse's fur and attending to her needs along with the other horses. She was grateful; that horse had been with her for the last two years and she had grown very fond of her.

Patting Freya's soft face, Marlowe couldn't help but smile. "Hey, girl," she whispered to the horse in Spanish. "Did you miss me?" The horse whinnied softly in return. She purchased the Nokota from a stable in Armadillo. The owner had claimed that she had belonged to a recently-hanged Del Lobo, which was why the price was so low. Over time, Marlowe began to realize that the horse responded better to Spanish commands than English, which she supposed made sense. That didn't stop her from naming the horse after the fearsome Norse goddess she had read about in a book in her uncle's expansive library. "It seems you've been well spoiled in my absence," Marlowe chuckled, noticing a freshly braided tail.

"That'd be the O'Driscoll," a voice startled her from behind. Marlowe whipped around to see Javier tightening the straps on his horse's saddle nearby. "The horses have never looked so happy. At least he's good for something."

"I suppose I can be grateful for that," Marlowe said cagily. Up until now, the only people that had spoken to her in camp had been the women and occasionally Arthur. She hadn't had a conversation with Javier since she was tethered to the old tree stump her first day in the camp.

Tightening the last strap on the saddle, he moved to check Marlowe's. "Your Spanish is very good," he remarked. "Where did you learn?"

"Oh, er…" She thought for a moment before answering, gauging how much to reveal. "I had a few friends from Mexico that taught me a little. I also spent quite a lot of time in New Austin and the northern part of Mexico the last few years."

"It's been a long time since I've heard my home language spoken so well by another person," said Javier with a small smile. He switched to spanish. "Maybe if this thing is successful, we can swap stories about Mexico?"

Slightly taken aback, Marlowe felt a heat creep up the back of her neck. "Oh, er, I-I-I appreciate the invitation, but once my debt is paid off I think it'll be best that I leave quickly."

"What's the rush?"

Still stumbling over her words, Marlowe pulled herself up on Freya's back. "I...er...have another debt I need to resolve. I was supposed to have my payment to a courier by last night." A wave of anxiety swept over her, nearly making her puke. She had never been late for a payment before. She tried to force the thought from her mind.

Javier looked slightly disappointed, but he offered another half-grin and mounted his horse as well. "Well, if you change your mind…"

"I'll keep it in mind, thanks." For a brief moment, Marlowe considered asking for her knife back. She could see it, strapped to Javier's hip beside his revolver, but lost her nerve. Maybe she should just let it go.

Dutch trotted up beside her astride his magnificent white horse. "I hope you aren't thinking of trying anything, Miss Reid."

"I have too many gangs with price tags on my head," Marlowe replied wearily. "I'd rather leave this one with a clean slate."

It was barely noon when Marlowe and her four companions turned off the path and into the thick trees as they approached Six Point Cabin. Dutch waved for them to dismount. Marlowee remained on Freya's back. "Are you sure you'll be able to pull this off?" he questioned dubiously.

"I'll be fine," Marlowe said, tying her long hair into a loose ponytail. "Though I'd feel a little more confident if I had a weapon."

"If you're as good as Arthur says you are," Dutch said sternly, "you shouldn't need one."

Arthur rolled his eyes and pulled out a small revolver, flipping it so Marlowe could take the grip. "You know how to use one of these, right?"

A small blush rose up Marlowe's neck. "I prefer a knife." Guns were weapons she had never learned the mechanics of.

"I'll take that as a no then," Arthur took the gun back and handed her his hunting knife. Marlowe inwardly sighed; she had hoped Javier would offer to return her damascus steel blade.

Tucking the sheathed knife up one of her sleeves, Marlowe took a deep, calming breath. A small prickle up the back of her neck was leading her to believe something was going to go very wrong, but she tried to ignore it. "How do I know you'll come if I get in trouble?" she asked, failing to keep her voice even.

The silence gave her the answer. At long last, Arthur spoke. "I can't speak for the rest of these bastards, but I promise I'll show up if things go south."

"And I as well," Charles said firmly.

Javier and Dutch simply nodded.

Marlowe nodded. "Well, I guess I should get going. Wish me luck." With that, she steered Freya down toward the path again, stomach twisting.When she looked back, the four men had disappeared, seeming to melt into the underbrush. All she could see was the mane of Arthur's tall horse.

She rode for about a quarter of a mile up the path until the small cabin came into view. A few O'Driscoll guards were standing outside, but otherwise it looked quiet. Far less goons than Marlowe had anticipated, which didn't sit well with her. As she approached, guns cocked in her direction. "If you know what's good for you, missy, you'll turn away now," one of the guards warned, leveling his shotgun at her.

Dismounting carefully, Marlowe held her hands up in submission. "I'm here to see Colm. I'm hoping it's not too late."

One of the men squinted at her suspiciously. "Ain't you that government bitch from a bit ago?"

"That would be me," she smiled winningly. "Would you kindly tell Mr. O'Driscoll that Miss Edaline Cargill is here to see him." Unstrapping one of her saddlebags from Freya, she opened a flap just enough so that the two closest guards could see the carefully-placed dollar bills poking out near the top.

"Hand that over," one of them demanded, waving his gun for emphasis.

Marlowe chuckled lightly. "Well, I could certainly do that, but you would be missing out on the rest. There's far more where this comes from."

The men glanced around at each other, uncertain. The rough voice of Colm O'Driscoll rang out from within the cabin. "For the love of god just send her in."

The O'Driscolls parted, allowing Marlowe to step up the stairs of the cabin, saddle bag over her shoulder. For a moment, she considered stealing a glance over her shoulder to where (presumably) Arthur, Javier, Dutch, and Charles were watching, tucked away in the shadows of the trees and undergrowth. Instead, she focused ahead, where Colm was waiting for her.

The scraggly man was neatly counting out several stacks of money on a beat-up table and placing them in a bag beside him. He looked up as Marlowe entered and flashed her a smile of rotting teeth. "Ah, Miss Edaline. I was thinking you had betrayed us, and yet here you are." He gestured for one of the men by the door, who closed it. Marlowe restrained herself from flinching when she heard the heavy lock click.

"I apologize, Mr. O'Driscoll," Marlowe tilted her head and sighed in contrition. "Morgan got the jump on me just outside of Strawberry. He killed your man and kept me as a hostage for several days before making his escape."

Colm chuckled. "We found our man's body. Poor bastard. Stabbed right in the gut, wasn't he? I can't quite picture how Morgan coulda done that hogtied on the back of a horse." His tone was light, but the suspicious undertones were obvious.

"I wish I knew," Marlowe said remorsefully. "It all happened so fast. But the important thing is that I brought the rest of the reward money for capturing Morgan, as promised."

"Bout time," Colm sneered. "Wish you hadn't let Morgan escape. I had to get rid of those bonds anyway, and you were shockingly right. No fence offered near as much as your government did."

Marlowe shrugged. "It's not too late. I still have a few opt-"

Colm cut her off, advancing on her slowly. "Funny, how Morgan was able to get himself free, get off your horse, kill my man with a stab from the front, and take you hostage. It almost seems...impossible, don't it?"

"I don't understand your meaning." She found herself backing away as Colm drew closer.

"We found the rope binding Morgan near the body of our man," Colm said coldly. "It had been cut."

"He must have gotten a hold of my knife somehow, or had one stashed on his person."

"Well, that would be what I'd have guessed too," said Colm, eyes glittering dangerously. "Except one of my boys spotted you and Morgan paying a visit to the medicine woman in Valentine two days ago."

Without missing a beat Marlowe replied, despite the panic she could feel in every part of her body. "You must have mistaken me for someone else then," she tried. "I haven't been in Valentine in months. Too many cattle for my taste."

Colm kept moving toward her. She took another step back, only to bump against the wall. The gang leader grinned maliciously. "Then I suppose you won't mind my boys taking out old Dutch and his idiots that are hiding out in the trees outside?"

The game was up. For a long moment, Marlowe had the fleeting urge to say "Go ahead." She would be free from the Van der Lindes, and she was confident she could weasel herself away from the O'Driscolls. But for some bizarre, stupid reason, she couldn't do it, just like she couldn't leave Arthur Morgan in the hands of Colm a mere few weeks earlier.

Instead, she lunged forward and managed to get ahold of the holstered revolver at Colm's side and fired wildly, not particularly aiming at anything. A howl of pain told her it had hit the gang leader, who collapsed to the ground clutching his arm. Immediately outside, more gunshots and shouts began ripping through the air.

Rounding on the two other O'Driscolls in the cabin, Marlowe aimed the gun down at the writhing figure at her feet. "Lay your weapons down," she commanded.

The two men looked at each other uneasily. Colm, still holding his arm and panting in pain, snapped at them. "Shoot her, you idiots!"

"I guarantee I'll shoot your leader first," Marlowe swore. "Drop the guns or he's dead." She clicked the hammer down for added emphasis.

They obeyed, Colm swearing and threatening them as they did.

Marlowe kicked Colm hard in the ribs to shut him up. "Now lay face down on the ground." They obeyed again, a little more reluctantly. "Good boys. Count to a thousand."

The men were silent for a long moment. Marlowe rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me, you don't know how."

"S-s-sorry, miss," one of them said meekly.

Marlowe sighed and picked up her saddlebag from where she had dropped it in the scuffle. Making her way over to the table, she picked up a stack of money and examined the bills. In her experience, some fences preferred to make counterfeit money to give to their sellers, so it never hurt to check. But as far as she could tell, the money before her was real.

Colm snarled incoherently and dragged himself to a standing position. "You fucking cowards," he snapped at the two men still laying facedown on the floor. "You're really going to let a little girl take our money?" With difficulty, he grabbed one of the guns the men had dropped and leveled it at Marlowe as she did the same with the stolen revolver. "You won't make it out the door, you brat. I'm going to-"

There was pounding on the outside of the cabin door. "Miss Reid!" she heard Arthur yell. "Damn it, the door's locked. Javier! Charles! Help me with this." Several heavy thuds landed in rapid succession, rattling the whole cabin.

"Hurry up! There's more coming!" Dutch shouted.

In the split second Marlowe was distracted by the banging of her companions, Colm seemed to decide against trying to kill her, instead shoving past her to snatch the saddlebag of cash from off the table and dive out of the open window. His horse must have been just outside, because when Marlowe dashed to the window to try and spot him, he was taking off through the trees, slumping heavily on the black horse's neck.

She didn't have time to dwell on it. The heavy galloping and shouting of at least ten riders approaching spurred her to race past the two still-facedown O'Driscolls to the door, throwing the lock open. Charles burst through first, looking around wildly. Javier and Arthur were right behind him.

"Did you do this?" Charles gestured toward the men on the floor, looking impressed.

"We can save the congratulations for later," Javier said breathlessly. "Just shoot them and get it over with."

Marlowe shook her head quickly. "We don't have time, just leave them!"

Arthur nodded in agreement. "Let's get out of here."

Revolver still clutched in her hand, Marlowe followed them out the steps of the cabin and whistled for Freya, who came galloping out from the trees alongside the other horses immediately. Dutch was already astride the Count, face red with anger. "Let's go! We can't face them all!"

Astride Freya, she dug her heels into the horse's sides and followed Dutch at a fierce gallop through the trees, keeping her head low to avoid the whistling bullets from the incoming O'Driscolls.

Arthur

They rode hard and fast for what felt like hours before Dutch finally signaled for a slowdown at the edge of a small creek. The horses were panting heavily and needed a break, but it seemed like the O'Driscolls had finally stopped pursuing them. Arthur's head swam with the image of Marlowe in the cabin, holding what he clearly recognized as the revolver of Colm O'Driscoll, two of his goons laying obediently facedown on the ground like dogs. She was really something else…

Dutch, however, hadn't gone inside the cabin. Indeed, if Arthur hadn't seen what this...indomitable woman had done in that cabin, he probably would have assumed she had set them up. They had been watching the cabin carefully with binoculars and rifle scopes from behind a rock in the densely shrubbed and wooded trees surrounding the little hut when what seemed like a small army of O'Driscolls had ambushed them.

Predictably, as soon as Marlowe had slid off her horse, Dutch stormed toward, gun out and hanging loosely at his side. "What the hell was that?" he roared. "You walked us into a trap! How dare you-"

Dutch faltered as Marlowe undid her saddlebags and withdrew a large stack of cash and counted some bills. She shoved a small portion into her satchel and then unstrapped the entire saddle bag, handing it to Dutch. "Here. I took enough to make good on my obligation. There should be about three thousand left. Call it interest on what I took."

Hastily, Dutch opened the saddlebag and pulled out a large wad of bills. Arthur could see an all-too-familiar glint in his eye. "I would say that should more than cover it, Miss Reid. More than cover it, indeed. How did you accomplish that?"

Marlowe pulled herself back onto Freya's back. "A grifter never reveals her secrets, though I can say that Colm won't be happy when he finds that his saddle bag is filled with newspapers instead of the money."

Dutch threw back his head and let out a gleeful laugh. "Brilliant! Just brilliant!"

She tilted her head in acknowledgement. "Well, I must be going now. I need to get to my courier at Emerald Station before he leaves. Thank you for your...hospitality, I suppose." With a flick of her reins, Freya started to trot off.

"Ride with us back into camp!" Dutch suggested quickly. "We still have your wagon and other things there."

"That's quite alright, consider them a gift." She dug her heels in and the horse took off at a gallop south.

Dutch turned The Count around to the other gang members. "One of you, escort her to Emerald Station and wherever else she would like to go. Try to talk her into returning with you to camp."

"She paid off her debt though," Charles objected, dark brow furrowed.

"We need her!" Dutch said urgently. "With those talents, we could be on a boat out of this country in a month!"

Javier shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. "That's an awful lotta risk, her joining our gang. I did some digging into Walter Smythe, and he's bad news. If she stops sending him money, he'll come after her, and I don't think he'll have any issue with some collateral damage."

Dutch stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Well then, it would appear that we need to deal with Walter Smythe. Free this poor girl from her servitude."

"I'll go ahead with her then," said Javier, perhaps a little too eagerly. Arthur felt a little twinge of irritation. It hadn't escaped him that Javier was interested in Marlowe, although he guessed he couldn't blame him. Still, he didn't need to be so eager about it...

Fortunately, Dutch was already shaking his head. "No son, I have a very special task for you in mind. Arthur has a little more history with her than any of the rest of us. Arthur, go on ahead with her. See if you can bring her back with you."

"And if she won't?"

"That is actually what I need Javier for. I have a plan."

This time, Arthur chose not to question the nature of the plan. He simply nodded his head and dug his heels into Sidewinder and took off after Marlowe.

She had gotten pretty far ahead on the path, her horse snorting panting slightly from exertion. It was clear that she was trying to put some distance between herself and the gang from the scowl on her face when Arthur pulled up alongside her. "You gonna tackle me off my horse again?"

Arthur slowed down with her. "Don't tempt me, miss. I have business in Emerald Ranch and was hoping you'd allow me to ride with you."

"What kind of business?"

"You know, for someone as tight-lipped as you, you sure are nosy about my dealings." Arthur said gruffly. "But, if you must know, there's a very talented fence by the name of Seamus based in Emerald Ranch who makes me some trinkets from time to time."

Marlowe narrowed her eyes for a moment, then nudged Freya a little faster. "Alright then. We'll need to ride fast. The courier leaves right at nine o'clock."

Arthur patted Sidewinder's neck fondly. "We can handle it, can't we boy?" The spotted horse shook its mane as though in agreement.

Together, they took off at a gallop across the plains.

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