More problems have befallen us. More running.
Leviticus Cornwall. The oil, sugar, rail and greed merchant whom we robbed a while back had us ambushed in Valentine. Seems he has added to the price on our heads. We shot our way out of town and narrowly escaped with our lives.
Arthur rode out while the gang packed up camp to see if any Pinkertons or law enforcement were hanging around. Everything was getting messier. He turned his horse down to the river where he saw Grace and Tuula in the water. Grace had her pant legs rolled up above her knees and was splashing her horse as Tuula was pawing at the water, splashing her back. He rode down to them.
"Can't stay out of trouble, can you, Mr. Morgan?" she called out, waving.
"I don't know what you mean," Arthur said, stopping his horse by the river. Grace waded out with Tuula following.
"Oh, I see, so it wasn't you who shot up the town?"
Arthur paused. "No."
"Yeah, okay," she raised her eyebrows, clearly not believing him. She walked across the sand to her socks and boots by some boulders. She sat on a boulder, wiped the sand off the bottom of her feet, and stretched her legs out. Arthur had followed and she looked up at him. "Do you need something?"
"I didn't mean for it happen," he admitted.
"I'm sure you didn't. So what happened?"
"It was the train robbery, back in the mountains. The fella we robbed, Leviticus Cornwall, found us in town."
"So he wanted justice."
"Yeah."
"He didn't quite get it, I see."
"No, we all survived."
"Except for all those men you shot dead."
"They were shooting at us!"
"They were doing what they had to do."
"So were we!"
"Of course."
"We're not all bad, you know."
"No, but neither are most of the people you've killed."
Arthur didn't say anything. He supposed she was right. In a way.
"So tell me, Arthur Morgan," she leaned forwards towards him, "how many lives have you taken? How many families have you torn apart by your murderous rampages? And what about that other train you robbed? How many of those people you've rendered helpless because now they can't pay for things they need?"
"Bah, you wouldn't understand."
"No, I don't. But feel free to explain it to me."
"I've had enough of this," he turned his horse and galloped away. She didn't understand what it was like. She's never had to kill or steal just to keep surviving, to live free, as Dutch always said. And yet, there she was, living just as free as can be without stealing or killing. As far as he knew, anyway.
When he arrived back at camp, he wondered if he would see her again. How could she want anything to do with him after everything he's done? Why did he even care?
After this, we fled the country and headed even further south and east. Dutch sent us to scout a new camping spot that ended with Charles and I saving a family of Germans who were in the process of getting themselves killed.
Arthur and Charles checked the camp, which seemed empty, like it had recently been abandoned.
"Where is everyone?" asked Charles. Before Arthur could reply, they heard a noise from a nearby wagon. He put his finger to his lips and slowly walked over. He removed a crate and saw a woman aiming a shotgun at him. Two children flanked her, looking terrified.
"It's okay," Charles spoke gently, putting his gun away. He and Arthur kept their hands up as the woman slowly emerged from her hiding spot, closely followed by her two children. "Are you okay?" Charles asked. She kept her gun aimed at them.
"He said, are you okay?" Arthur said.
"Sprechen Sie Deutsch?" the woman asked. "Uh, German?"
"Uh, no," he replied. What is with people not speaking English? "Now, go on, get out of here." The woman and children didn't move. "Go, we need the land, get the hell outta here!
"They took our father!" the young girl said, pointing down the trail.
"Who?" asked Charles.
"Men. Last night." The girl started to cry.
"Where?"
"Ain't no business of ours," Arthur protested.
"What's going on?" Grace walked up as the woman whirled around, aiming her gun at her. "Whoa, it's okay." Grace put her hands up.
"Now what the hell are you doing here?" Arthur asked her angrily.
"Saw your horse alone, wondered where you were," she replied, but looking at the German woman with the gun. "Um. Everything okay?"
"Their father was taken," Charles said, "We're going to find him."
Arthur sighed, annoyed. "Like I said, it ain't our business. We don't even speak their language."
"What do you speak?" Grace asked the woman gently.
"Deutsche, uh, German," the woman replied nervously.
Grace nodded then started speaking, presumably, in German to her. The woman looked relieved and talked quickly back. Grace pointed to Arthur and Charles and said something.
"Danke, thank you!" she cried.
"Wait, what did you just tell her?" demanded Arthur.
"I said you'd try to find her husband," Grace stated.
"Now, hold on-"
"And if you don't, then I will, but I think he'd have a better chance if you two go," Grace said.
Charles nodded in agreement. "Let's go."
"Goddamn it," Arthur said under his breath as Charles retrieved their horses. They mounted up and followed the trail out.
"So, who is that?" Charles asked.
"Just a girl I met," said Arthur, "Or rather, she keeps meeting me. It's getting irritating."
"I think I've seen her before."
"You have?"
"I was out hunting and found a bunch of bison carcasses, just shot and left for dead. Tracked down the shooters to their camp and she was already there, yelling at them."
"What the hell was she trying to do?"
"Same thing I was, find out who shot those bison. She stuck a knife in one of their hands when they refused to tell her who hired them. Finally told her the name of someone in Saint Denis, and she rode off."
"Jesus. Never thought she'd be that hostile."
"So who is she?"
"Her name is Grace and she's got a nasty habit of showing up when I least expect it."
"Oh. Well, so long as she doesn't find out too much about us."
"Hah, she probably knows more about us than we know about us," Arthur said sarcastically.
"Hm, I hope that won't be a problem."
"Nah, I don't think it will," Arthur paused. "She's a good person."
"You said she was irritating."
"She's good and irritating."
They tracked the German man to a hideout within some trees on the river. After taking out the kidnappers, Charles suggested they move camp here instead of at Dewberry Creek as Dutch had originally suggested. This camp, Clemens Point, was far more secluded. Arthur agreed and he took the German man back to his family.
Grace was helping the German woman and children pack up their wagon as Arthur and the German man rode up.
"Andreas!" the woman yelled and ran to her husband, closely followed by their children. Andreas leapt off Arthur's horse to embrace his wife and children tightly.
"Vielen Danke! Thank you!" Andreas said to Arthur and Grace, then reached under his wagon and retrieved a couple of gold ingots. He handed one to each of them, thanked them again, and drove off with his family.
"Not a bad payday," said Arthur, putting the ingot in his pouch.
"You can have mine." Grace held out the gold to him.
"Nah, you keep it. You earned it."
"I don't need it."
"Don't you know how much you can get for it?"
"Yes, but I don't need it. You do. You have a lot of people to take care of."
"Don't you have anyone?"
"Just Tuula." She nodded to her horse.
"I can't take it."
She looked at him, dropped the ingot on the ground, mounted her horse and rode away without another word. Arthur sighed to himself as he picked up the gold. He could hang on to it for her. But why wouldn't she take it? It was worth a lot of money.
Charles does not need to think to be good. It comes naturally to him, like right is deep within as opposed to this conflict between good and evil that rages within me.
Makes me wonder why Grace seems to have latched on to me instead of him.
The new camp at Clemens Point was perfect. Hidden in the trees off the road, but right on the river. A few boaters out rowing would go by, but they weren't anyone to worry about, just leisuremen. A small island lay across from the camp.
"Mr. Morgan!" Pearson approached Arthur a couple days later, "Mr. Morgan, would you put your fishing skills to use? I hear there's some good trout in the area and we could use something different for the stew."
"Why, what's wrong with you?"
"I still have to cook the damn thing, I can't waste time fishing. Besides, I've only caught bluegill and perch over on the dock. Maybe you could take the new boat out and see what you can get near the island over there." Pearson pointed out to the river.
"Fine," Arthur sighed, "I ain't much of a fisherman, but fine."
"Thank you, Mr. Morgan!"
"Yeah, yeah," Arthur waved off Pearson and went to retrieve his fishing pole. Hosea had procured a boat for the camp, but whether it was acquired legally or not was left unsaid. He rowed out to the island, watching a couple of iguanas dash off into the bushes as he dragged the boat onto the sand. He cast out, but didn't get any bites after a while so he wandered around to the other side.
Damn waste of time, he thought, as he tried a fourth spot further around the island. He cast out again and waited. As he did, he could just see Blackwater on the other side of the lake. He swore to himself as he thought of all that money still left there and of everything that went wrong.
He still didn't know everything that happened.
"How's the fishing?"
He dropped his fishing rod in surprise. He picked it up and looked behind him on the island, but there was no one there.
"Wrong direction."
He turned and saw Grace in the water up to her bare shoulders.
"Jesus, you're naked!" he stated as he reeled in the line.
"So I am," she smiled. "Catch many fish?"
"Nah, don't seem to be bitin'."
"You can have mine," she pointed to the shore further down where he noticed Tuula in the shade with her clothes and a basket. "I don't need them. Was just going to give them away anyway. May as well be to you."
"You sure?"
"Yes," she said. "You have a lot of people to feed."
"Thanks." He usually wasn't one for charity, but if it meant he didn't have to listen to Pearson moaning and groaning about not having any fish. "What are you doing, swimming naked out here?"
"Usually I swim in a little cove off the shore, but some people happened to move their camp over there," she said with a smile.
"Heh, guess there are too many prying eyes, huh?"
"Why don't you come in?" she asked. "Cool off for a bit."
"Nah."
"You sure? It's lovely in here."
"I ain't taking my clothes off," he said.
"Suit yourself. Didn't mean anything by it."
"You ain't afraid of anything biting you in there?"
"Are you?"
He looked around,"Aw, hell, why not?" he said, dropping his fishing pole in the sand. "Just... don't watch."
She smiled and turned away so he could have some privacy. He stripped down and entered the water, still watching all around.
"No one will see," she said, still facing the other way.
"How do you know?"
"I just do." She turned to him once he was in the water. "See? Refreshing."
"So why are you still following us?" he asked, swimming closer to her but still keeping his distance.
"I think you're the one following me," she said. "I mean, here I was, having a nice swim and then you show up."
"Oh no, it ain't like that and you know it."
"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't," she shrugged.
"Are you always this cryptic?"
"Sometimes. Are you always this cynical?"
"Sometimes." He smiled more warmly at her. They were silent for a few moments, treading water. "So, were you following us? When we found that German family?"
"No, I was riding by and I saw your horse alone. I thought I'd stop and see if you were okay, then I saw that woman with a gun in your face."
"You're lucky you didn't get shot."
"Yeah, but I didn't."
Arthur frowned slightly. Grace didn't seem too concerned that she might have gotten shot if that German woman had reflexively pulled the trigger.
"So how do you defend yourself out here?" he asked.
She shrugged a bit. "I usually don't get into trouble."
"But what about against animals, like wolves or bears?"
"I have a fast horse."
"There are some nasty people out there that have guns faster than your horse."
"I know, I'm currently swimming naked with one of them," she grinned at him.
"I'm serious, there are some very bad people out there, worse than me."
"Didn't know you were so concerned. I'm fine, Arthur. Really." She paused. "I did meet with Agents Milton and Ross again. They asked about what happened in Valentine."
"What did you tell them?"
"Said I didn't know much about that, but you were moving camp again. Turns out you're all going to sneak out west through the mountains," she said. "They didn't find you there before, so why not just go back that way?"
"If I never see snow again it'll be too soon," Arthur said.
"Not me, I love the snow. I mean, maybe not all the time, but I do like it."
"Don't get to swim when it's snowing."
"I don't get to skate when the lake isn't frozen either."
"You sure like skating, don't ya?"
"It's fun, I've been back up there a few times. I ordered a pair of ice skates from Canada so at least I'll have some in my size." She paused to move her long hair in front of her shoulders. "So have you caught any fish for that awful Jeremy Gill yet?"
"Nah, I think it's obvious I ain't good at fishing."
"How much is he paying?"
"Said I'd get fifteen dollars if he sold the fish for fifty."
"Not bad. Where are the fish he wants? I could help, if you want."
Arthur thought about it for a few moments. Grace did seem pretty good at fishing. "How much would you want if you caught them?"
"Nothing. You can have the full payment. Though, I suppose you could earn that part by making sure there aren't any bears around while I fish."
"Bears? That's what you're afraid of?"
"Ever had a bear sneak up and steal the fish you just caught?"
"They do that?" his eyes widened.
"Sometimes. They'll grab it and run off, but they get aggressive if you try to steal the fish back."
"Well, maybe we can go find these fish and I'll make sure bears don't steal them."
"Sounds good," she smiled at him then looked over to the shore and noticed they had drifted closer to her horse. "Hey, wanna see something neat?"
"Like what?" he asked suspiciously.
"We have to get out first. Turn around so I can get out and get dressed."
Arthur nodded and turned away. He heard her leave the water and for a brief moment, a part of him wanted to have a peek, but no. He couldn't do that. Not to her. A few minutes later she called out that she was dressed. He looked and saw her facing the other way, allowing him to get out and retrieve his clothes to dress. He picked up his fishing rod from the sand and joined her as she was brushing out her long dark hair.
"So what's this thing you wanted to show me?" he asked.
"This way," she set her brush down, keeping her hair loose, and led Arthur through the trees. It only took a minute but they came to a small cove in the middle of the island. She pointed to an old, wrecked ship washed up on shore. "I think it was a pirate ship."
"A pirate ship?"
"Yeah. I found it ages ago, but haven't seen it up close yet. Wonder how it got here." They walked over for a closer look. "Think there's any treasure still inside?"
"Probably not, but we can look," Arthur said. Grace gleefully hopped up through a hole in the side of the ship. Arthur leaned in, trying to see in the darkness.
"Ooo, there is something!" she called out, then carried out a rusty metal box. She set it on the sand and turned to him. "You do the honours."
Arthur took out his knife and pried the box open. Inside was a small dusty bottle filled with a mysterious liquid. Arthur uncorked it and gave it a sniff. "Looks like rum. Smells like rum." He cautiously took a sip. "Tastes like rum."
"Gosh, do you think it could be rum?" Grace joked.
Arthur laughed and set it aside. He took out a small pouch that felt heavy, but when he opened it it was just full of small stones. "What in the world?"
"Weird. Maybe someone stole the actual contents and replaced them with stones," said Grace as she took out one of them for a closer look.
"There's some papers here too, or used to be. They're mush now." He poked at a pulpy substance at the bottom of the box.
"I'm going to see if there's anything else." Grace returned to the ship as Arthur opened the bottle of rum again for another sip. A few moments later, she called out again. "I found something, but you have to close your eyes!"
"Why?"
"Just do it."
Arthur closed his eyes. "Okay, they're closed." He heard the old wood creak as Grace walked across it then heard her jump down to the sand.
"Well? What do you think?"
He opened his eyes and started laughing at the sight of her wearing an oversized tricorn hat that nearly covered half her face.
"Is it me?" she asked, pushing the hat above her eyes.
"It certainly is you," Arthur plucked the hat off her head and put it on his own.
"Oh, it suits you," she said. "Fits you better than me."
"You sound disappointed."
"I am! I thought I was going to have a fancy new hat to wear," she pouted.
"Well, here you go then," he shoved the hat back on her head, covering her eyes again.
"Thanks," she grinned. She pushed the hat back above her eyes. "Still have that rum?" Arthur handed it to her. She turned and climbed on to the slanted deck of the ship. She made her way to the ship's wheel and raised the bottle towards him. "Ahoy there! Give me all your treasure!" She took a swig of the rum, then jumped off the deck, stumbling when she landed. "I could've been a pirate."
"Nah, you're too nice to be a pirate," Arthur said, taking the bottle from her.
"How do you know how nice I am?"
"Because I've met you. Makes me wonder why you bother following a bastard like me."
"Because I like you."
"Jesus. Why?"
"Because you're nice. Well, most of the time." She took the rum back and drank. "Some of the time. Okay, maybe you're not nice all of the time, but you're interesting." She handed the rum back to him. "You're a good man, Arthur Morgan. Maybe you don't think so, and maybe your actions speak otherwise, but I can see it."
"You and I have a different definition of the word 'good'," he scoffed.
"Maybe we do. But maybe one day you'll see what I see. Anyway, you should probably head back with that fish. They might think you've been wasting time over here." She smiled up at him and walked back to her horse. She handed him the fish out of her basket.
"How'd you get out here anyway?"
"Canoe. Tuula swims alongside. It's on another islet," she added when she noticed Arthur looking for her canoe. She picked up her now empty basket and patted her horse. "See you around, Arthur."
He waved and watched her disappear down the island. He returned to his boat and rowed back to camp. As he did, he could just see her rowing a canoe with her horse swimming alongside further down the shore.
There was something about her. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. While it was strange that she kept turning up wherever he went, he felt like he could trust her. But she was just so... nice. Decent. The type of woman a man like him shouldn't have. He didn't even know how he really felt about her.
One thing he did know was that he looked forward to seeing her again, irritating as she may be sometimes.
Upon returning to camp, Arthur handed over the fish to Pearson, then sat on his cot, flipped through his journal and realised he hadn't yet gone to see Black Belle for that gunslinger book. He decided to go first thing the next morning.
Arthur rode out early, intending to get to Bluewater Marsh as soon as possible. He hoped that Black Belle was still there, it had been a while since he received the photos from that Levin fellow. He was about to cross a bridge to the marsh when he heard someone calling him. He turned to see Grace cantering towards him.
"What are you doing here?" he asked when she caught up.
"Following you, of course," she joked, "I was just heading to Saint Denis. How about you?"
"Was going to see Black Belle," he said, "You still want to to come along?"
"Sure. Thought you went ages ago and forgot to bring me along."
"Nah. Just hope she's still there." They rode across the bridge and headed east through the swamps.
"I hate it out here," Grace said, looking through the trees, "There's talk of these people called Nite Folk. Very few ever survive meetings with them, and those who do are usually too traumatised to give many details."
"I guess they mostly come out at night?" Arthur asked.
"Sometimes. And other times they set up traps out here. So if you hear anyone calling for help or anything? Be very careful."
"I usually am."
"I've noticed," she smiled over at him.
"So I think this might be where Black Belle is," he said when they arrived at a shack in the swamp. They dismounted and headed down the boardwalk. The door opened and the barrel of a repeater poked out.
"You there!" a woman called out. Grace and Arthur stopped, raising their hands slowly.
"Uh, hello?" Arthur greeted her.
"You a bounty hunter?"
"Not right now, I ain't, and neither is she," said Arthur, gesturing to Grace. "You Black Belle? I'd like to talk to you about your wild west days."
"I don't care much for reminscing," Black Belle emerged slowly, still keeping her gun aimed at them. "You got any friends is bounty hunters?"
"Uh, no."
"Well then you done lead them boys here and you none the wiser," she nodded to the road. Grace and Arthur looked to see a few men on horses riding up. "Knew my luck'd run out sooner or sooner."
"Get inside, we'll tell 'em you're gone," Arthur said.
"Oh no, I ain't hiding from them scalp hunters and not running from 'em neither."
"Well, let us know what we can do."
"You want that wild west story, don't you?"
"Yes, I do."
"Alright, get up here quick," she moved aside to let Grace and Arthur up onto the porch. "You ain't got a gun, sweetheart?" she asked Grace.
"No, ma'am," Grace replied.
"Well then, when I give you the word, hit that," Black Belle pointed to a plunger attached to the railing. Grace nodded and stood by the plunger. "Whole place is wired."
Black Belle and Arthur readied their guns as the bounty hunters arrived at the boardwalk.
"Black Belle!" one of them shouted, "I got a contract here for your life or your liberty and we'd sooner it be liberty."
"That's mighty reasonable, mister," Black Belle called out, "Come here, let me take a look at it." The bounty hunter walked slowly closer as Black Belle urged him on. "Stop, just there!" The bounty hunter did so, confused. Black Belle turned to Grace. "Now, set it off!"
Grace pushed the plunger and an explosion sent the bounty hunter into the air, killing him instantly. She immediately took cover as the others started shooting.
"Hit that plunger if you wanna see 'em fly!" Black Belle shouted towards Grace, who realised she was next to another plunger. Grace pushed it and killed the other bounty hunters with another explosion.
More bounty hunters rushed in. Arthur and Black Belle shot at them, rushing to the side of the shack. "We're rigged over here too!" Black Belle shouted. Grace ran over and hit another plunger, setting off another explosion. Black Belle and Arthur shot the survivors and they rushed back to the front where a wagon had driven up with a machine gun on the back.
"See there, a Gatling!" Black Belle shouted, "that's a gun you fight an army with, not a goddamn widow!"
Grace kept low as she crept to the other side of the porch. Arthur and Black Belle were still shooting and the gatling gunner was distracted with them. Grace took out a knife, stood, and threw it, killing him. She crouched back out of sight as Arthur and Black Belle finished off the rest of them.
"Whew! Is that the last of 'em?" Black Belle asked, looking around.
"Yep, you got them scalp hunters off your back," said Arthur.
"For now," she went back into her shack.
"So you gonna tell me about your wild west days?" Arthur followed her, "Running with Jim Boy Calloway?"
"Little Boy Calloway? Hah, the only running he did was away from a fight, and that's about the end of it."
"Well the man's apparently a famous gunslinger."
"Yeah, so they say," Black Belle picked up a sack, "But don't get what's famous confused with what's true. The ones of us that lived that life we was too busy being scared for our scalp to talk to no newspaper writers or dime novel men." She paused and looked at Grace. "You know, you look mighty familiar."
"I do?" Grace asked.
"Let me think, you remind me of a young gal Colter Tobin met and asked to run with us, what was her name," Black Belle thought for a moment, "Ah, yes, little Gracie. Sweet, young thing, too good to be runnin' with a buncha outlaws."
"Oh, well, my name is Grace," she said quietly.
"Huh, well ain't that a coincidence," Black Belle said, "Well you obviously ain't her because that was a long time ago."
"And what were those days like then? The ones they all talk about," asked Arthur.
"Same as now, I guess, only longer ago," Black Belle said, carrying her sack and her gun out to her horse.
"Heh, alright," said Arthur as he and Grace followed, "I'm gonna need your picture too, if it ain't a trouble?"
"No, sir, no trouble at all," she said, throwing her sack on the back of her horse. Arthur snapped a picture of Black Belle posing with her gun.
"Well, thank you, Mrs. Belle, you gonna be alright?"
"Been running for twenty years, suppose I'll be running till I drop," she said, mounting her horse. She winked at Arthur and Grace and rode away.
"It's funny, ain't it? Her knowing someone who looks like you with the same name?" Arthur said to Grace as they mounted their own horses.
"Sure is," she replied, "You'd be astonished by the number of other women out there named Grace."
"Who look like you?"
"What, you think I'm a ghost or something?" Grace laughed. "Anyway, thanks for bringing me along."
"You okay with killing them bounty hunters?"
Grace shrugged, "Not particularly, but I guess it's preferable than being shot to pieces."
"Yeah, I suppose so."
"Anyway, I must be getting on before it gets too late."
"Wait, do you want me to come along?"
"I'm going to Saint Denis, it's the big city to the south, doesn't seem like a place you'd like much," she said.
"Well, I could ride with you until we get there."
"To keep me safe, you mean?" she smiled at him. "I'll be fine, thank you. See you around, Arthur." She turned and trotted away. Arthur waited until she was far enough away and followed. Just to be sure. When she had reached the outskirts of the city - a dreadful looking place, he thought - he stopped, figuring she'd be okay.
