Chapter 25 – Babysitting

You woke up a little later than usual, realising you only managed a few hours of sleep. You groggily turned to your side to see if John was there. He wasn't. You held still a little longer, listening, the sound of spoons clanking against bowls and Grimshaw's morning sermons could be heard from the inside of your tent.

If it were only up to you, you would've preferred to stay in bed and feel miserable about your encounter with Abigail last night, but alas, you knew that was too much to ask. Besides, your stomach was already growling, desperately begging you to find something, anything to eat. You begrudgingly got up and thought if you hurried, you might still get to have some of whatever Pearson was serving for breakfast nowadays.

"Hey, you headin' out?" John approached you later that morning as you were saddling up your horse.

"Yes, I need to get more supplies." You looked over your shoulder as you were accustomed to doing whenever you and John had the slightest interaction in broad daylight.

"What do you need supplies for?" he continued, noting the hesitation on your face.

"Medical supplies. We're running low, so I need to head to Rhodes to restock."

He placed his hand on yours affectionately as if trying to divert you from your errands before saying, "How about I go get your supplies, and you do a little something for me?"

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously at his request, uncertain where this was going. You knew better than to ask what he had in mind, but you asked anyway.

"Babysit Jack!? Are you out of your mind? No!" You exclaimed, brushing John's hand off yours. He was quick to catch your hand and held it for as long as he could as pleaded with you.

"Come on, [Y/N]."

"How about Mary-Beth, or… or Tilly? Where's Abigail anyway?" Getting increasingly annoyed at the thought of his request and his insistence on the matter.

"They headed out to St. Denis earlier, look at some dresses or something, whatever it is you ladies do." He swatted his other hand dismissively to make a gesture.

'And no one cared to invite you.' you reminded yourself bitterly.

"Well… I ain't good with kids, John!"

"Do I look like I'm good with kids?" He said flatly, and then his expression softened. He looked down, taking a deep breath, before revealing his true intentions to you. "Look, the only reason am asking is I was kinda hoping you'd spend some time with the kid."

"You are very special to me, [Y/N]," He looked at you, searching for your eyes. A mixture of vulnerability and sincerity painted across his scarred face, "and I just wanted for you two to get along, y'know."

"And Abigail approved this?" You looked at him in slight disbelief.

"Uh, I mentioned it to her, so uh, she knows." He scratched his head anxiously.

"I ain't letting that tramp anywhere near Jack!" Abigail was fuming.

"You're one to talk!" John shouted. Abigail's face contorted in anger; her jaw clenched tightly.

Their argument had escalated earlier that morning when John proposed that you babysit Jack for the day, and Abigail was having none of it. Her disdain for you had been palpable from the moment you and John started seeing each other, a fact that she had her suspicions on for a while and which she recently confirmed when she confronted you last night. The mere suggestion of you spending time with Jack had pushed her to the brink of fury.

"Hey, if you're okay with either Micah or that O'Driscoll boy watching your kid, that's fine by me too." He shrugged his shoulders, not giving Abigail much choice here.

"Oh, the hell with you, John!"

You groaned inwardly. This was the very last thing you had expected your day to turn out. Why would John put you in such an awkward situation with Jack?

You spotted Jack by himself. He was crouched on the ground with a stick in his hand, most likely drawing as you'd seen him do numerous times. You looked around before approaching the kid and realised the gang members had gone out, except maybe for a few – Uncle was dozing off as usual, and Kieran was tending to the horses. You could hear Micah humming contentedly as he worked his knife back and forth over a piece of wood, honing it to a fine point. There was something about being left there with Micah. That man's presence had always unnerved you.

"Hey, Jack," you greeted, trying to sound as friendly and warm as possible.

"Hi," he replied meekly, his eyes darting away from you.

You took a few steps closer, hoping to engage him in conversation. "Whatcha drawing there?"

He mumbled something you couldn't really understand, continuing to trace figures on the ground.

You watched him for a moment before speaking again. "So, uh, John asked me to spend some time with you today."

Jack looked up at you, his expression unreadable. "Okay."

Uncertain of what to do next, you took your spot next to him and spent the next few minutes with him in silence. 'What the hell are you doing, [Y/N]?' You asked yourself.

"Do you like drawing, Jack?" you asked again, attempting to break the ice between the two of you.

"I guess." He gave a half-hearted nod.

Jack's eyes followed you as you disappeared and came back a few minutes later with some pieces of paper and pencils you had lying around. You beckoned him to sit with you at the table, and he hesitantly followed. The two of you sat together by the round table, ignoring Micah, who was seated opposite you. The older man carefully observed the two of you as he continued to hum and play with his knife.

"Uh, let's try drawing something simple, maybe a tree," you suggested, picking up a pencil and paper. Jack hesitated for a moment before nodding and taking the pencil from you.

"Hey, that's not bad." You encouraged the little kid. He seemed to start enjoying himself. 'Okay, at least we're getting somewhere.'

You started doodling away as you continued watching Jack make progress. You couldn't help but feel distracted by Micah's constant humming. It was a soft, tuneless sound, but it grated on your nerves like sandpaper. You glanced over at him and saw that he had his eyes fixed on you while whittling away at the same piece of wood he had earlier. He cocked his head slightly, his lips still moving soundlessly as he studied you. You felt a shiver run down your spine and quickly averted your eyes, returning your attention to Jack.

"I see you're still chasing after John, even though he's got a kid. I guess you like playing mommy to someone else's brat." Micah said out of nowhere, a sly smirk on his face.

Micah leaned in your direction, a devious grin on his face. "You know, [Y/N], I can't help but notice how damn fine you're looking today," he said, his eyes lingering on your figure. "Maybe if you weren't so busy playing mommy with John's kid, we could have some real fun together."

Disgusted at Micah's obscene advances, you stood up without a second thought, hastily taking Jack along with you. "Come on, Jack, let's go find something else to do." You would have easily told Micah off any day, but not in front of a child - not in front of Jack. You held Jack's hand firmly and led him far away from camp, desperately hoping he didn't get any of that.

You sat on a boulder as you carefully observed Jack, his small frame playing by the shallow waters of the lake. The sound of his feet splashing in the water did help calm your nerves. The kid was in a much better spirit now that he had warmed up to you, seemingly unperturbed and oblivious to your disturbing encounter with Micah earlier. You quite envied his carefree innocence.

You thought about Jack and wondered what his life was like, being brought up by a group of outlaws to a life exposed to criminality and harsh realities; a reluctant father on the one hand, and on the other, a mother who just wanted nothing else but the best for him. You pondered about what the future held for him – will he grow up just like John? Dutch? Hosea? Will he ever be able to get out of this life and experience a normal life for once, take on an honest and decent living, and maybe find himself a good wife?

You thought about Abigail, who fiercely loved him and would do anything to protect him. Despite everything between the two of you, you couldn't really blame her for her animosity towards him. She had endured so much, this much you know – her past life, and that year John ran away when she had just given birth, and like John, she too was an orphan. Maybe that's why they had easily fallen for each other a long time ago. They have a common ground, a deep and mutual understanding of each other's lives and history, something you, an outsider, could never really truly understand.

"I'm cold." Jack's voice distracted you from your thoughts.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close for warmth. "Let's head back to camp and get you dried off. It's still a bit of a walk, though," you said with a smile.

You started making your way back with Jack in tow. The leaves rustled gently beneath your feet. A light breeze brushed against your skin. It had gotten colder now that the sun was about to set.

Your heart suddenly dropped, and your face grew pale as you noticed three heavily armed men emerge from the foliage surrounding you. You instinctively pulled Jack behind you in your attempt to shield him from any potential harm and danger.

You could hear your heart pounding against your ribcage as the men advanced towards you, their weapons held firmly in their hands. Your muscles tensed up as you prepared for whatever was about to happen next. The burly man in the middle with greying hair and bushy beard, stepped forward, pointing his gun straight at your face.

"We know you stole our horses," he growled menacingly at you. "And now we're taking something of yours." He yanked Jack out of your arms with so much force that he yelped in pain and burst into tears. Before you could even react or do anything, you felt a sharp blow to the back of your head, effectively knocking you out and spiraling into darkness.

You heard the man spoke once more, "This is what you Yankees get for messing with us!" before everything turned dark.