Hosea was arranging small jobs with the Braithwaite woman but preferred to not send Arthur out to do them since he was still deputized with the Grays. Arthur decided to head out to see if he could find something himself. He kept thinking about the heavy pouch of money at the wrecked ship, how easy it would be for them to leave, how stupid it was to not take it. But he couldn't bring himself to go back and get it.
He didn't know how long he was riding for when he came across a number of tipped over wagons...
Met a fella called Miss Margaret. An animal trainer and showman or show-woman. Mistress of Danger. Quite a character. Wants me to find some missing animals that ran off when his wagons tipped over.
Arthur left the strange man to find his missing zebra. It was apparently last spotted somewhere southwest of Emerald Ranch. Shouldn't be too difficult to catch, they were just like horses, weren't they?
"Why didn't you take the money?" a familiar voice shouted at him.
He startled, nearly falling off his horse. Grace trotted up to him, frowning.
"Why didn't you take the money?" she asked again.
"Because..." Arthur stopped, not knowing what to say. "Because it's yours."
"Oh, for god's sake. I am GIVING it to you."
"And I said I ain't a charity!"
"Then steal it from my cabin then!"
"Is it stealing if you know about it?"
"Does it matter?" Grace shook her head and sighed. "So what nonsense are you up to today?"
"Finding a zebra."
Grace stared at him, blinking. "Excuse me?"
"I'm searching for a missing zebra."
"Have you tried Africa?"
"Hah, no, a lady animal wrangler who is really a man is missing a zebra."
She stared at him again for a moment. "Are you okay, Arthur? How much has your brain been rattled?"
"I'm serious," he chuckled, "I met a feller back there in a dress and a moustache claiming he's a lady animal wrangler and he's missing some animals."
"Okay, I need to come with you on this one," she said. Arthur smiled, glad for her company. They rode to the last location of the zebra and Arthur took out his binoculars for a look around.
"Over there," he pointed and passed his binoculars to Grace.
"Are you serious?" Grace peered through the binoculars, "That doesn't look like any zebra I've seen."
"You've seen real ones?"
"Oh yes, I've seen herds of them in Kenya." She passed the binoculars back to him. "Well, let's go get this so-called zebra."
They approached the 'zebra' slowly and quietly. They both jumped when it began to bray and then realised it was a mule painted with stripes.
"What they done to you?" Arthur asked incredulously as he dismounted to calm down the mule.
"Jesus, poor thing," Grace shook her head as Arthur pet the mule, then wiped his hands on his pants when the paint transferred. He put a rope around its neck and they led it back to Margaret.
"Good grief! You've found him! Our zebra!" Margaret greeted them dramatically. "And you've also found a friend! Jolly good!"
"He's as much a zebra as you are a lady animal wrangler," Arthur said, dismounting and leading the painted mule over.
"Oh dear, you're missing the point, aren't you?" Margaret opened the back of one of the caravans and started looking around for something, "It's an illusion, a trick of the eye to bamboozle the sense, confound comprehension."
"Hoodwink your audience?" asked Arthur.
"I suppose if they're blind," said Grace, watching in amusement.
"No one will pay for the truth," Margaret said, picking up a plank, "they only pay for deception." He dragged it over to the caravan. "What is the greater conjuring trick? Lassoing some poor beast on the plains of Mumbo jumbo land and shipping it here, so it can dance the polka, or turning, there in the glare of those arc lamps, something mundane into something extraordinary?"
"Well you certainly have that covered yourself," Grace said as Arthur led the mule into the caravan up the plank.
"As long as you don't pay me with tickets to your show," said Arthur.
"I don't know, I kind of want to see it now," Grace snorted.
"Well, it's not everyone's cup of tea," said Margaret.
"And speaking of my payment, "Arthur advanced on him.
"Of course, of course, I shall make it worth your while, but first we shall need the whole menagerie back. My assistant's gone for the tiger, and taken our remaining lion in case it could lend a paw."
"A tiger? And a lion?" Grace's eyes widened. "Jesus christ."
"Alright, we'll see what we can do," Arthur mounted up again and headed down the road where Margaret had pointed.
"Since the zebra is a mule, what do you think the tiger is? A house cat?" asked Grace.
"I guess we'll see."
"Imagine taking a lion to find a tiger. Good lord."
"You seen many lions and tigers in Africa?"
"Lions, yes, tigers, not so much," she replied, "Tigers are from India, I think."
"Huh, so how useful would a lion be in finding a tiger?"
"No idea, but I'm looking forward to finding out."
They trotted down the road in silence for a little bit before Arthur spoke. "So how are you feeling?"
"About what?"
"After Van Horn."
Grace shrugged. "It is what it is." She looked over at him. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For getting me out of that bar," she said.
"You didn't exactly go quietly, you know," he chuckled.
"Yes, I remember you dumped me in the water trough," she laughed, "So rude."
"Heh, well I don't blame you. Still can't believe you did that to all them O'Driscolls."
"They had it coming." Her jaw tensed slightly. "That must be the assistant there," she nodded ahead to a cage wagon on the road with someone standing on the seat looking around.
After hunting a zebra that was a donkey and a tiger that was a cougar and a lion that was just a dog - or I think that's right - I think I've lost track of the whole thing, and an assistant that's a real woman - Sally Nash- and him a strange English maniac in a dress pretending to be all that he isn't. The whole thing is a mess.
"You got word on that other lion?" Arthur demanded of Margaret when they returned with the 'tiger' and the remains of the 'lion', which had been eaten by the so-called tiger.
"Yes, yes I got word on the lion! Shit is the word! Someone saw him near Emerald Ranch." Margaret said theatrically. "As you know, we're lately very short on lions, so... I'd be very grateful."
"So now we need to find another lion," said Grace as they started out to Emerald Ranch.
"Dog, you mean."
"Hopefully we find this one alive."
When they arrived at Emerald Ranch, there seemed to be a commotion. Ranch hands were running about, speaking of getting their guns. Two were holding the barn doors closed. Grace and Arthur dismounted and went up to the barn.
"What's the ruckus, boys?" Arthur asked them.
"Get back! We got a cursed creature in here!" one of them yelled. They were both quite terrified of this dog. "He's as big as a mule and as mean as a hellcat!"
"It looked like a lion to me," the other said, his voice shaking.
"That's a dog in there," Arthur said, shaking his head. Stupid idiots. "Now if you'll excuse me?"
"What?"
"Step aside," he demanded.
"Well, if you're sure," one of them moved away, "Miss, perhaps you should wait over here?"
"I can handle a dog, even large ones, thank you," Grace said.
The ranch hands shrugged and opened the barn door enough to let Arthur and Grace go through. They whistled and called for the dog. Just as they reached the back of the barn, something crashed through the hayloft door, followed by the sounds of people yelling and screaming. Grace and Arthur looked at each other before running to the door.
Outside, one of the ranch hands was dead, his belly torn open. A cow lay dead nearby.
"Son of a bitch," said Arthur then turned to Grace. "Stay here."
"Don't tell me what to do," she scoffed. They followed the blood trail to a dead horse in the horse paddock and to the stable. They crept closer when a lion - an actual real lion - stepped out of one of the stalls.
"Sweet mother of..." Arthur didn't finish before the lion charged. "Shit!" He drew his pistol quickly and shot it in the face until it fell dead just a couple feet away.
"Jesus christ," Grace grabbed his arm, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, barely," he said, holstering his pistol. "Damn fool didn't bother telling us it was the real thing this time!"
Grace knelt by the lion's head. "I've never seen one this close before. We always kept our distance from the animals when I was in Africa." She ran her hand through the lion's mane. "Now I can say I've pet a lion."
"A dead one."
"I'll conveniently leave that part out," she smiled up at him. He shook his head, then decided to take a trophy for himself. He cut off one of the lion's paws and put it in his satchel.
"So, should we bring it back, or leave it here as a souvenir for the ranch?"
"I ain't carrying that thing back," Arthur left the paddock, passing other onlookers. He and Grace returned to Margaret and Sally Nash.
"Odysseus returns!" Margaret cried out, "Sally, get the cages ready!"
"Yes, sir, right away!" Sally ran to the empty caravan cage.
Arthur dismounted and advanced on Margaret. "A man-eating lion. You didn't think it might be useful for me to know that this time the animal was actually real, you moron?"
"Steady on, I clearly stated-"
"You haven't clearly stated anything in all the time I've known you. That could've been a goose for all I knew."
"What have you done with him if you don't mind me asking?"
"I killed him," Arthur said.
"Bloody hell! This is rum, old boy."
"Well, it was him or me. Now pay me."
Margaret looked over at Grace who simply shrugged. "Yes, of course, of course. I have just the thing and what a treasure it is." He pulled out an emerald and held it out. "From the mines of El Dorado. As green as the rainforest, as clear as the Amazon, and as dear as all the gold in the Andes. One man's labour is but a trifle compared to this jewel's true value."
Arthur quickly grabbed it out of his hand. "Well, let's see what my friend here has to say about it." He handed it to Grace who looked it over carefully before holding it up to the sun.
"It's coloured glass," she tossed it back to Arthur.
"Trying to swindle me again, why don't you?" he threw it on the ground, "Now pay me!"
"Buggery hell," Margaret backed into the caravan. "Okay, okay." he reached under the seat and took out some money. "Here." He handed it to Arthur and turned to Sally. "Sally, get the wagons moving!"
"Ain't we waiting for the lion?" she asked.
"He's in the great hunting ground in the sky," he sighed and climbed into the driver's seat.
"Well, I won't keep you," said Arthur, "So long."
Grace and Arthur watched them drive away.
"So, why did you ask me to look at that jewel?" she asked him once Margaret and Sally were gone.
"I thought you'd know if it's real or not, what with you being a world traveler and all."
"Hmf, you're lucky I can tell the difference between glass and a real emerald," she laughed. "It's still on the ground there if you wanted a souvenir of your adventures today."
Arthur picked up the green glass and tossed it to Grace. "Here, your payment for your assistance."
"Wow. Thanks. So generous." She smiled and put it in her satchel. "Well, I don't know about you, but I could use a drink after all that."
"Heh, you sure that's a good idea?"
"No, but we just came face to face with an actual lion, so I think we deserve it." She waited for Arthur to mount his horse. "Come on, I know a place."
"I ain't going back to Valentine."
"Oh no, we're going somewhere else. It's just up the road a bit from Emerald Ranch," Grace led the way down the road. They rode past Emerald Ranch and the train station and up into the hills. She turned off the road into the trees and to a large cabin. A number of horses and wagons were outside.
"What is this place?" Arthur asked as he dismounted and hitched his horse.
"I met this lady, Clarabel, a while ago," she replied, dismounting Tuula and not bothering to hitch her to any post, "We got to talking and she invited me here." She entered the shack and poked her head through another door. "Hello, Maggie, is Clara here?"
"You know she is," Maggie replied, annoyed. Arthur looked through the door to see an older woman who looked like she had half her face burned off.
"Thanks, hope you're doing well."
"Oh, I got plenty o' years left in me, I ain't going down just yet."
Grace shut the door and headed down the stairs. "That's Maggie, she runs the place. Clara ran some errands for her a year or so ago and now they're in business together." Arthur followed her down, past a fake bookcase and into a large bar. A band was playing music while patrons were drinking and dancing.
"WOOHOWDY" a grey-haired woman shouted from the bar, "Looky who showed up!"
"Hey, Clara," Grace greeted her, "How's business?"
"Biz- buzz- it's good," Clara slurred, "Good. Very good."
"Anything new on the menu?"
"We gots this one, it's... it's.. very good," Clara pointed at her empty glass then held it upside down to look inside, "wait, where'd it go?"
Grace turned to the bartender who rolled his eyes. "I'll have what she's having. And so will he," she pointed to Arthur. The bartender poured out two shots of liquor and handed it to them. "Bottoms up," she toasted to Arthur and they both chugged their drinks then burst out coughing.
"Jesus, what is that?" Arthur asked.
"Berry Mint moonshine," said the bartender.
"It's... um... interesting," said Grace. "Have any beer?"
"I'll have one too," said Arthur.
The bartender gave them two bottles of beer and they found an empty table to sit down at.
"Interesting place," Arthur said.
"Yep, I like it. It may not be legal, per se, because of the moonshine, but eh." She paused to drink. "So what's next for you?"
"I don't know. I guess I'll see what they got planned when I get back."
"I don't see why you won't just take the money I've offered."
"How'd you get all that money anyway?"
"Does it matter?"
"What will you do without it?"
"I don't need it."
"How could you not need it? That's a lot of money."
"I just don't, why does it matter? I don't need the money, you need the money, I don't understand why you just don't take it."
"I guess... I don't know."
"Heeeeey, there you are!" Clara stumbled over, "Does this big guy dance?"
"No, I don't," said Arthur.
"Oh, I think he does," Grace grinned at him. "Go on, you can't possibly be worse than her."
"You callin' me a bad dancer?" Clara tried to frown, but giggled instead.
"Yes, I am, now off you go," Grace said.
Clara grabbed Arthur's hand and pulled him closer to the band.
"I hate you!" he yelled back at Grace.
"I know!" she yelled back.
Arthur was certainly no expert on dancing, though he has danced with a few women in his time. Mary-Beth and Karen in camp. A few anonymous women in bars. Mary, all those years ago. But they were far, far better than drunk old Clara, who couldn't seem to decide what she was doing. First she'd hop from one foot to the other, then take Arthur's hand and try to spin, but would lose her balance so Arthur had to catch her from nose-diving into the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Grace had moved closer and was doubled over with laughter.
The band started up a new song and Clara tried to continue to dance with Arthur but she had grabbed another unsuspecting man instead. Arthur took the opportunity to escape to the bar where Grace was ordering more drinks.
"Have fun?" she asked, handing him a beer.
"Thank you so much for that," he took the beer and chugged it, "So why weren't you dancing too?"
"No one asked me," she shrugged, drinking her beer.
"Arthur! What you doin' here?" Sean appeared through the crowd and sat down with them, "And who's this lass?"
"Grace," she lifted her beer to him.
"Been hidin' her out here, have ya?"
"No, she brought me here."
"Ah, and here I thought you had too much a stick up yer arse," Sean chortled.
"You know Clara?" Grace asked him.
"Oh yeah, ran guard on a few shine runs for her, made a few bucks, she's a good ol' drunk."
"Heh, that she is," said Grace, "She seems to have taken a liking to Arthur here."
"Is that right? Didn't know you had it in ya."
"You run into any trouble doing Clara's runs?" she asked.
"Nah, well, once. Got to a road block by a buncha agents looking for illegal shine. Managed to talk 'em into letting me pass, said I worked for the Braithwaite bitch. Anyway, there's too much talkin' and not enough drinkin'," Sean stood, "I'll go get us another round."
The rest of the night was a blur of drinking. Sean convinced Grace to dance with him which ended with a slap to his face when he tried to kiss her. Sean laughed and switched his attention to some other young ladies. Arthur finished off another glass of the moonshine, which tasted far better than when he first tried it. At least, he thought it did. He turned to a man standing near him as Grace returned to the bar.
"Y'know, you ever think about just... running away?" The other man didn't reply. "You're right, ya can't just run away from things. Gotta face them! Face to face!" The man stayed silent. "They always send you out to make some money but it's never enough! We... we got lots of money. But it's hidden. Hush, hush." Again, the man didn't say anything but just stared at him. "You won't tell anyone will you?" Arthur shook his head and the man copied him. "Good man. You got a gal, mister?" The man continued to not talk. "I don't. Or I might. I don't know. Don't know what I'd do without 'er."
"Who you talking to?" Grace joined him.
"I don't know 'is name, but he's very quiet," Arthur pointed. "Best friend I ever had."
"That's a mirror, Arthur," Grace snorted.
Arthur looked, squinted, realised he was looking at his own reflection, then burst out laughing.
"Let's driiink," she pulled him over to the bar.
"I thought you was getting us drinks."
"Was I? Huh. Musta already drank them."
"GRASS!" Clara stumbled into the bar, "What's that shong, the one with the funny words?"
"I know lots of songs with funny words," Grace replied.
"No, the one that goes dah-dah-dah-di-dah-dah-di-dah."
"I... don't know, be more shpeshific." Grace frowned.
"Well sing it!" Clara pushed Grace towards the band, "And play the pianer too!"
"I'm too drunk!" Grace yelled.
"Not drunk enough!" Clara yelled back.
The piano player chuckled and moved aside to let Grace sit down. Arthur moved closer to the band and leaned against the wall to keep from falling over. After a few moments, she began to play a vibrant tune, occasionally hitting the wrong key, then she started to sing. Arthur wasn't sure if it was because he was drunk, but it didn't sound like any words he knew. Regardless, the other patrons started to sing their own words to the song and danced.
Grace finished to tremendous applause, stood up and tried to take a bow, but she nearly fell until the piano player caught her. She laughed, apologised, then joined Arthur as the band started playing again.
"Come ooonn, dance with me," she pulled at his hand. Arthur hesitated then gave in. Grace was a better dancer than Clara, but not by much. At least, not when she was this drunk. He concentrated on not stepping on her feet, but she ended up stepping on his. Not that he minded much. He bent her back into a dip, but lost his balance and they both tumbled to the floor.
"Jesus, Morgan, who taught you how to dance?" Sean laughed as he danced by with a pretty brown-haired girl.
"Yeah, who taught you how to dance?" Grace nudged him as she sat up and slid back out of the way of the other dancing patrons.
"Me? Who taught you?" he moved next to her.
"Some old bat called Madame Corsaire, dreadful woman," she said, then spoke in a high pitched voice with an accent, "'Chin up! Back straight! Gentle hands! Quiet steps!'"
"Hah, awful," Arthur laughed.
"I- eurgh," Grace retched and put her hand over her mouth, "Oh, I need to go outside." She stood and stumbled to the door with Arthur following.
"You okay?" he asked as they blundered outside.
"It's warm, is it warm?" she said, removing her jacket and tossing it on the grass.
"I don't know," Arthur hung on to the side of the cabin to keep the world from spinning around him.
"I need to sit down," she remained standing and swaying a bit.
"Why dontcha?"
"I don't remember how." She burst out giggling then fell over to her knees. "wait, I think I got it." She then fell over on her back and laughed again. "Where'd you go?"
"I don't know where I am," Arthur let go of the cabin and stumbled into the grass near her.
"I haven't drunk like that in... in... since 1838!" Grace cackled. "you remember what happened?"
"No, I was... I wasn't even born," he crawled over and lay on his back next to her.
"I don't remember, so long ago," she slurred.
"What about in Van Horn?"
"That's different."
"You're very strange."
"So're you, you big, weird... stranger."
"I think I'm going to rest my eyes now."
"Pfft, can't handle a few drinks?"
"I can.. I can drink more."
Grace didn't respond. He looked over and her eyes were closed. Probably just resting her eyes. That's fine, he'll just rest his eyes too.
Arthur woke up early the following morning and saw a mass of black hair sprawled across his chest. He startled and sat up quickly, causing Grace to roll onto the ground beside him.
"Ugh, what the hell?" she groaned.
"Oh, it's just you," he fell back on the ground.
"Who did you think it was?" she sat up and brushed her fingers through her messy hair.
"Thought it was some sort of animal."
"I might have something witty to say to that if I wasn't so hungover." Grace slowly stood up, stumbling a bit as she did so. She went over to Tuula, who was grazing nearby, and retrieved a canteen from her saddlebag. After drinking out of it, she handed it to Arthur.
"Thanks." He drank the rest of the water, gave the canteen back to Grace, and stood up. "Guess we should head out."
"Yeah." Neither of them moved. "Okay, I'm leaving now." She tightened the cinch on her saddle and slowly mounted up. "See you around."
"Yep," he said, slowly walking over to his own horse. "I'm gonna go and sleep this off." He heard her ride away as he rested his head against his horse's neck.
"There he is!" Sean stumbled over. "Couldn't handle yer drink, could ya, haha."
"Shut up."
"We gotta head back, do more work for those Gray boys."
"What, now?"
"Well, later today. We're meetin' Bill and Micah in town, said something about extra security after the tobacco fields were burned down. Not that we know anythin' about that now."
"Alright, let's go." Arthur mounted up and rode with Sean back towards Rhodes.
Sean has been killed. I'm more sad than I can admit. His head shot half off in an ambush. What a goddamn mess we are making of things.
Little Jack's been kidnapped, so we're trying to find him. We burnt down Braithwaite Manor when we went hunting for him, in an almighty scrap. Apparently some fella in Saint Denis, senor something or other, took umbrage to our presence and kidnapped or, heaven forbid, worse.
Arthur couldn't sleep. All he could see was that poor kid getting his head blown half off. Sure, Sean was an annoying little shit, but he certainly didn't deserve that. He decided to just get up, go for a walk. He noticed he wasn't the only one who was restless. He could see Dutch's silhouette pacing back and forth in his tent. Mary-Beth, Tilly, and Karen were all huddled together, consoling each other. Abigail was being comforted by Miss Grimshaw while John hovered nearby. He could hear Hosea telling Lenny to get some sleep, but not lying down himself.
He wandered off towards Sean's grave. As he approached, he wasn't surprised to see her there. Grace didn't say anything, instead letting him come to her. He couldn't say anything when he stopped in front of her. She embraced him tightly and he hugged her back.
"Why didn't you tell me it was going to be Sean?" he finally asked, still hugging her.
"I can't see the future," she replied as they parted. "It seemed pretty obvious that if you were going to keep getting yourselves involved in that damn feud, someone was going to die."
"You're right," he sighed. "We should've seen it a long time ago. All that for some stupid gold that probably doesn't even exist. And this kid was the one to pay for it." He looked down at Sean's grave.
She knelt down to the basket on the ground and took out a couple of shot glasses. She handed one to Arthur. She took out a bottle of whiskey and poured some out in each glass. "To Sean, the bastard everyone loved to hate and hated to love."
"Got that right," he couldn't help but smile a bit. They both gulped down their glasses. She handed the bottle of whiskey to him and he poured the rest on the grave. "That should set him right into the next life." They stood in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. "Will you come back with me this time?" He immediately regretted asking.
"No," she said. "You need to find that boy. The last thing they need is for you to come back to camp in the middle of the night with a strange woman."
"Yeah, you're right," he sighed. He had no idea how Grace knew Jack was missing, but then Abigail had been screaming about it all night.
"Any ideas where he might be?"
"The Braithwaite woman said they gave him to someone named Angelo Bronte, in Saint Denis," replied Arthur. Grace nodded then picked up her basket and started walking away. "No point in asking when or where I'll see you again, is there?" She turned to him, smiled and shook her head.
He returned to camp and lay back down in his cot. He tried to imagine what it would be like if she joined them, stayed with them, but he couldn't. She wasn't like them. She was a damn fine woman, but far too decent for the likes of them, for him.
