Got into a fight with a drunk giant with a tiny head. Yes - that's what happened. Fella was strangling a bar keep who had turned off his liquor supply.
Part of some kind of circus act. The show was run by a woman - Marjorie I think. She's missing a tiny magician. He's run away into the woods. Said if I saw him, I'd send him back to them.
Found the little magician and reunited this odd family. Fella tried to give me the slip a few times but in the end, seems they love each other even more than they hate each other, or at least it was close. Want me to see their show sometime in Saint Denis, and say they'll reward me then as they were broke now.
Arthur stood across the street from the theatre, waiting for other people to enter first. He had never been to a proper theatre before and he felt very uncomfortable. Imagine a man like him at a theatre. And yet, here he was. When there were fewer people, he entered the theatre, approached the ticket seller and asked about the arrangement Miss Marjorie had promised. The ticket seller told him that he'll let them know, but the show was going to start soon and to come back afterward.
"I thought you weren't a theatre person."
He smiled and turned to her. "I helped one of the acts with a problem and I was promised part of the gate."
"Ah, of course," Grace smiled at him. "Here for the money, not the entertainment."
"Well, I guess I may as well see what it's all about," he stood there awkwardly.
"Best seats are in the balcony." Grace said, handing a ticket to the seller and heading up some stairs to the left. He paused then followed her up and sat next to her. He looked around, amazed at how huge the place was. There were other balcony seating and rows of seats below them up to the stage. He had been to a few magic lantern shows before, but those were in much smaller venues in small towns.
Soon the lights dimmed and a man in a shiny red coat took the stage. He announced himself as Aldridge T. Abbington and did his banter. But Arthur barely noticed. He kept glancing over at Grace, looking elegant today with her hair in neat curls and wearing a navy blue jacket and skirt. He felt very shabby next to her and tried to wipe his hands clean on his pants.
"I met these odd fellows in a tavern in some godforsaken place, entertaining cretins, they are quite a capricious bunch," announced Aldridge, "Presenting Miss Marjorie and her medical miracles!"
Marjorie came out on stage, cracking a whip, then brought on Bertram, her so-called pin-headed giant.
"He ain't even as smart as he looks," Marjorie said to the audience, "but what he lacks in brain he makes up for in brawn! Our half-witted Hercules is as strong as a bull but as sweet as a baby."
Arthur leaned over to Grace. "I fought him up in Van Horn," he said quietly.
"Really? What were you doing up there?"
"Looking into a robbery tip, but it didn't pan out."
"But why did you fight him?"
"He was trying to kill the barkeep."
"'Sweet as a baby', huh?" she tittered.
Marjorie invited a man from the audience to take his best punch at Bertram, which he did and seemed to hurt his hand at first. But then the man threw another punch and made Bertram double over. As the man celebrated, Bertram grabbed the man from behind. Marjorie shouted at him, cracking her whip. Bertram let go of the man and stepped back.
The man advanced on Marjorie angrily. "What kind of a two-bit show is this? Your freak nearly killed me!"
"Leave her alone!" Bertram grabbed the man again and held him above his head.
"Bertram! Put him down!" Marjorie shouted again, cracking her whip. "Bertram!"
There was suddenly another crack and a puff of coloured smoke and a tiny man appeared on stage. "Mezmero!" Marjorie and Bertram seemed to be stuck in place. "'Tis I, Magnifico the Magnificent!" the small man proclaimed, "And I have tamed the beast! Drop him!"
Bertram threw the man to the ground with a thump. The man groaned and tried to get up, then fell back to the stage.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I, Magnifico the Magnificent, am a master of apparition!" there was a puff of smoke and he was suddenly holding a chicken in his hand. "And dissipation!" Another puff of smoke and the chicken had disappeared.
"Wow," Grace said.
"He can do that to himself too," Arthur said quietly, "Made it real hard trying to catch him."
"Wait, why were you trying to catch him?"
"He had run away from the others and Marjorie asked me to bring him back."
Grace snorted slightly. "Sorry, just the image of you chasing a midget."
"And now, for my next feat, I will relieve Miss Marjorie of her frock!" Magnifico announced. "Disrobe-io!"
There was a crack and another puff of smoke around Marjorie. When the smoke evaporated, she had her arm covering her bare chest. "What are you doing, you nasty little pervert!" she hissed at Magnifico.
"We were going to give them a show!"
"Not like that you're not!"
"I give up, pfft, amateurs." Magnifico stalked off stage, kicking Bertram in the shin as he did so. Bertram limped after him.
"Well, that's our show," Marjorie said, defeated. "Thanks, Saint Denis, all ticket sales are final!" The curtain closed.
Grace leaned closer to Arthur. "Maybe you should have been up there as her freak strongman," she joked.
The next act was a troupe of dancing girls from France.
"Ooh!"
Grace giggled a little. "These girls are wearing a bit more than the ones I've seen."
"Oh yeah?"
"Mmhm. Quite scandalous but great fun."
They applauded the dancers when they completed their act. Next up was the Mysterious Maya who came out on stage with a giant boa constrictor. She danced seductively around the stage with the snake around her shoulders and arms.
"You ever see anything like that before?" Arthur asked Grace.
"No, never," she said, watching with amazement. "How do you even discover you could do that? I mean, did she wake up one morning and think, 'I'm going to dance with a giant snake today'?"
"Heh, maybe she did."
"And what about the snake? Did she raise it since it hatched, or was it just out minding its own business when some woman suddenly plucks him out of the wild and brings it into the city? What if that snake has a family and they're wondering where he disappeared to?"
Arthur stifled his laughter as Grace giggled into her hand. They applauded the Mysterious Maya and her snake when they had finished.
The next act was the great Hortensia, deemed as strong as an ox.
"Perhaps she should've fought Bertram," Grace said.
"I don't know who would win that one."
"Well, would you fight her?"
"Not a chance."
They watched as Hortensia bent a metal pipe around her waist, then tore a large book in half with her hands. She then lay down on a table, setting a slab of concrete over her torso as an assistant came out with a sledgehammer.
"Oh, goodness!" Grace exclaimed.
The assistant took a swing and broke the concrete to gasps from the crowd. Hortensia leapt up, apparently unharmed.
The show ended and the lights went up again.
"Well, time to go get your money," Grace said, standing up.
"Right," he almost forgotten about it. She walked with him down to the ticket seller, standing to the side as he received the money.
"So, do you have enough yet?" she asked as they left the theatre. Night had fallen and the streets were lit by the lampposts.
"Far from it," he sighed. "You go here often?"
"Sometimes. There are different acts each time. My favourite is the singer, Robin Koninsky."
"Oh, well, maybe we can go again sometime."
"I'd like that."
"Where are you staying?"
"Nowhere in particular," she shrugged.
"A lady shouldn't be out alone," he said.
"I'm not alone," she smiled at him. He offered her his arm and she linked her arm through his. They walked in silence down the street for a few minutes.
"Is there anywhere you want to go?" he asked, unsure of where they could go at this time.
"No, not really."
"You still won't come back with me, will you?"
"No."
"We have a house now. An old plantation house, so it's huge. Have my own room."
"Arthur, I can't stay with you."
"Why not?" He stopped and turned to her. "Why can't you come back with me?"
"Why do you want me to come back with you?"
In a move that surprised even himself, Arthur took her by the shoulders and kissed her. While she returned the kiss, she had tears in her eyes when they parted.
"Arthur, I can't."
"But why not? You haven't said." He stepped back. "Damn it. You already have someone, don't you?"
"No, it's not that."
"Then what?" he demanded. "What is it?"
"It's... it's..." she sighed and looked down. "I'm sorry. I can't explain."
"Are you in trouble?" he took her hands in his, "If you're in some sort of trouble, I can help."
"I'm fine, Arthur," she said. "Don't worry about me."
"Of course I worry! I never know where you are, where you will be. I worry that every time we meet will be the last time."
"What if this was our last meeting?"
He didn't hesitate in pulling her back to him and kissing her again. She kissed him back intensely, grasping the back of his neck to keep him close. He loved her, he was sure of it now, but he couldn't tell her. Instead he focused on everything about the moment, the way her lips and tongue felt against his, how she tasted of peppermint, the way her fingers were entangled in his hair at the nape of his neck, how she just felt so right in his arms. It had been so long since he had kissed anyone with such passion, he couldn't help but wonder, and hope, for what would happen next.
That is, until a sudden clacking sound down the street startled and parted them.
"I'm sorry, but I can't," Grace said quietly as she stepped back.
"What, why not?"
"This isn't supposed to happen," she said, more to herself. She looked up at him, tears pouring down her face as she backed away from him. "I'm sorry, Arthur." She hurried away down the street. Arthur followed, but she had disappeared around the corner. He stopped, feeling confused and a bit embarrassed. He should've known she wouldn't reciprocate his feelings. With everything he's done in his life, he doesn't deserve her.
A few days later, Arthur still didn't know what he should do. Find her and apologise? Wait for her to find him and then apologise? He was leaning on the balcony railing at Shady Belle with a cigarette trying to figure it out when Dutch joined him.
"So, the trolley bus station..."
"I don't know, Dutch, it don't seem like the kind of place to have a lot of money."
"I went down there to have a look and I think we can hit it," Dutch said, ignoring Arthur.
"I ain't never robbed in a city before." Maybe Grace was wrong about the trolley station not having money. She couldn't always be right.
"Well, you leave the planning to me."
"Just you and me?"
"No, we'll need one more, I reckon."
Arthur thought for a moment. "I say Lenny."
"Not Micah?"
"Depends if you want a massacre or a pay day."
"Very funny, I-" Dutch stopped, distracted by something coming down the road, "What is that?"
Arthur turned and looked. A horse was walking into the grounds with a rider on its back. But the rider's head was in his hands.
Mary-Beth screamed. "It's Kieran!"
Kieran, that poor kid we spared from O'Driscoll's gang up in the mountains is dead, killed by the bastards. They chopped his head off and tried to kill the lot of us.
After the ambush by the O'Driscolls, they gathered around Kieran's body, thrown from the horse when the shooting started.
"Poor kid," said Dutch, "Mr. Swanson, would you take this boy and bury him someplace near, but not too near."
"Of course," Swanson agreed.
Hosea picked up Kieran's head. "What's this?" He pointed at something white sticking out of the mouth and pulled it out. Arthur recognised it immediately. It was Grace's handkerchief.
"Goddamn bastards," Arthur was about to go to his horse when Bill yelled that they still had an O'Driscoll alive. Before anyone could say anything, Arthur snatched the handkerchief from Hosea and ran over to the O'Driscoll before anyone could kill him. He grabbed the O'Driscoll and showed him the handkerchief. "The girl you took this from, where is she?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," he sputtered.
Arthur punched him hard. "WHERE IS SHE?"
"Fine! Camp, north of Rhodes, doubt you'll find her alive," the O'Driscoll started laughing, "After what she done to us, a little payback was due!" Arthur choked him to death then immediately ran to his horse.
"Arthur! Where are you going?" Dutch yelled after him. Arthur ignored him and kicked his horse into a gallop down the road. "Charles, follow him. I do not want to bury anyone else today!"
Charles nodded, mounted up, and followed Arthur while the rest of the gang started cleaning up.
Arthur was forced to slow down not too far from Rhodes, having kicked his horse into a constant gallop he was unable to sustain. Charles soon caught up.
"What's with you, Arthur?" he asked.
"They have Grace, that girl from when we met those Germans," Arthur said, wanting to hurry but his horse wouldn't be able to keep going.
"Okay, let's go get her."
Once their horses had rested enough, they galloped around to the north of Rhodes. The camp could've been anywhere, and they could all be long gone.
"Over there," Charles pointed to a plume of thick, black smoke behind some trees. They rode to the edge of the trees and dismounted.
"I am going to kill every last one of them," Arthur took out his shotgun and loaded it.
"Easy, we need to see how many first," Charles said calmly. They edged forward through the trees. Wagons encircled the fire and they couldn't tell how many were there. Charles stopped and raised his hand for Arthur to keep quiet. He listened for a few moments. "You hear that?"
"No."
"Exactly. Let's be careful."
They reached the inner edge of the trees, just at the wagons. They peeked under the wagons for a better look and were horrified. They stood and walked around the wagon to see a pile of dead O'Driscolls, all burning. But there was no sign of Grace.
"Over here," Charles called out. Arthur ran over and saw him crouching near a broken bow and some arrows. Charles held one up and Arthur recognised the red and blue feathers Grace used.
"Goddammit!" Arthur angrily kicked a nearby crate. Charles looked around carefully.
"I think... this is where they, well, took care of Kieran," he pointed at a large puddle of coagulated blood and other bits, "But over here..." he walked over to another smaller blood puddle. "It leads away from here."
Arthur and Charles followed the blood trail out of the camp and towards the railroad tracks. There, they found more broken and bloodied arrows. Arthur felt his rage rising, but was becoming increasingly worried. Were they about to find her dead? Or dying? What if he was too late?
"This way," Charles led the way across the tracks and through some more trees. When they emerged, Arthur spotted Grace's horse laying on the ground.
"Aw, shit," his heart sank as he approached her horse. Tuula suddenly got up and charged at them, whinnying shrilly. She slid to a stop, tossed her head and snorted in agitation. "Whoa, girl, remember me?" Arthur walked towards Tuula slowly as she trotted back and forth.
"Hey, over there," Charles pointed to where Tuula had been. Grace was lying on her back, covered in blood and motionless.
"Grace!" Arthur called out and moved towards her, but Tuula blocked him. "Hey girl," he tried to keep his voice calm, "You remember me, right? I ain't gonna hurt ya, I just need to take care of Grace, okay?" Tuula snorted, but stuck her nose out to Arthur's hand to smell him, then seemed to remember. "Good girl," Arthur patted her on the neck and hurried to Grace.
Her shirt was torn and so drenched with blood, he couldn't tell where it was coming from. He gently touched her bloodied face and her eyes flew open as she gasped for air and grabbed his arm.
"Hey, it's okay, it's me," he said, "We're going to take care of you now."
"No, don't." He could barely hear the words as she struggled to hit him and push him away, but she was very weak.
"Grace, it's me, Arthur," he frowned slightly as he grabbed her hands and she started to cry. "It's okay, darlin', I'm here." He then untied his bandana and gently started wiping the blood from her face.
"I'm so sorry," she sobbed.
"You don't have anything to be sorry about," he tried to keep himself calm, but there was so much blood, "But we're going to take care of you."
"Please don't," she begged, "It hurts."
"I know, but we'll make you better." He looked over to where Charles who whistled for their horses. Tuula was still pacing back and forth, tossing her head in agitation.
Arthur sat Grace up and she cried out in agony. He wanted to absorb her pain, to stop her suffering. He then noticed the bloody, broken arrows lying next to her and realised the cause of her injuries. He carefully picked her up, disregarding her protests, and carried her to his horse. Tuula moved closer and nuzzled at Grace who weakly pet her.
"'S okay, girl," she whispered.
"Help me here, Charles," Arthur nodded to him. Charles took Grace as Arthur mounted up, then lifted her up behind him. She leaned against Arthur's back as he held her hand. "Hang in there." He could feel her nod very slightly against his back and urged his horse into a canter back to camp with Charles and Tuula following.
Arthur held her hand tightly, hoping they could still help her. She had already lost so much blood. He wanted to get her back as fast as he could, but worried that she might fall if he increased his speed.
When they finally rode into camp, the bodies of the O'Driscolls had been removed and presumably dumped in the swamp. Most of the gang were resting, but jumped up when Arthur and Charles arrived.
"Arthur! Why the hell did you- oh," Dutch yelled until he noticed Grace behind Arthur. "This her then?"
"She's hurt real bad," Arthur dismounted carefully, lifted Grace off his horse, and carried her into camp.
"Oh, what happened here?" Miss Grimshaw approached.
"Shot by arrows, we gotta help her."
"Of course, bring her up to your room, I'll get Tilly."
Arthur carried Grace up to his room and sat her on the bed. "You'll be okay," he said, leaning forward and kissing her forehead. She nodded slightly but didn't say anything.
"Alright, Mr. Morgan, out," Miss Grimshaw ordered. He left the room as she and Tilly entered and shut the door. He rubbed his eyes and went downstairs where it seemed like the whole gang had gathered.
"Well, I had hoped you would bring her under better circumstances," said Dutch.
"So that's really Grace? The one Jack keeps talking about?" asked Mary Beth. Arthur nodded.
"Well, I don't like it," said Bill, "Now she knows where we are and how are we to know she ain't gonna snitch?"
"I think if that were her intention, she'd have done so by now," Hosea spoke up before Arthur could say anything.
"So what was she doing with a bunch of O'Driscolls anyway?" asked Bill.
"I think she was trying to save Kieran," Arthur said quietly.
"All by herself?" Micah scoffed.
"She was the one who killed all them O'Driscoll camps you found a while back," Arthur spoke louder.
"So why didn't she kill all these ones?"
"I don't know, she said the ones she killed were all drunk or asleep," Arthur said. How could she have even thought she could take on so many O'Driscolls on her own?
"Well, how about we wait to see how she is when Miss Grimshaw's finished and let her recuperate," Dutch said, then led most of the gang back outside.
Arthur could hear a few muttering about risky it was for him to bring Grace into camp, even with Dutch's blessing. But what else was he to do? He sat on the bottom of the stairs, lit up a cigarette, and waited. Sadie sat next to him and he offered her the cigarette.
"Thanks," she said, taking it, "So she really kill all those O'Driscolls?" Arthur nodded. "Huh, sounds like she hates them as much as I do."
"Almost," he took back the cigarette after she had taken a few puffs, "Should get you two together, they'd never stand a chance."
"Heh, well, I'm always up for killing those damn O'Driscolls," she stood, "She sounds like a mighty fine woman. I hope she feels better." She patted his shoulder and left.
"Mr. Morgan," Miss Grimshaw came down the stairs, followed by Tilly, "We did what we could, but she lost a lot of blood."
"And?"
"I don't know," she said regretfully, "But I best be informing the Reverend in case... well. You best go be with her."
Arthur rushed up the stairs to his room. Grace was lying in the bed, covered with a blanket and wearing a clean nightgown. Blood was still seeping through. Her eyes were closed, but she was still breathing. He pulled a chair next to the bed and took her hand. She opened her eyes and smiled at him slightly.
"So, I hear you're going to be just fine," he forced himself to smile back.
"Liar, I heard them wanting to get a reverend up here."
"Well, maybe they think you have some confessions to make."
"Jesus, how much time does he have?" she smirked slightly. "But I'll be fine."
"What were you doing out there?"
She sighed and shifted slightly. "I saw them take that man, and-" she stopped as tears began forming in her eyes again, "I tried. But they caught me, and... and they made me watch as they-" she suddenly choked out a sob.
Arthur squeezed her hand and leaned closer to her. He brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "What did they do to you?"
"After a bunch of them left to go to your camp, the rest took my bow and shot me with my own arrows. Then I called Tuula, and - ow - we fought back."
"Even your horse?"
"Heh, she's good at kicking faces in," she winced in pain. "To be honest, I'm not sure how we managed." She paused before bursting into tears. "I'm so sorry," she cried.
"You got nothing to be sorry for," he squeezed her hand again, "But why didn't you come get me?"
"It might've been too late," she sniffled, "I should have done more."
"No, don't say that," he gently turned her face towards him, "You've done more than you need to. For now, just rest." He leaned over and kissed her forehead again. She looked up at him sadly, then closed her eyes. He held her hand as she fell asleep.
There was a light knock on the door and Reverend Swanson poked his head in. "How is she?"
"She'll live," Arthur said quietly.
Swanson entered and handed Arthur a bowl of stew. "Some of them think she's working with the Pinkertons."
"Heh, they ain't wrong," Arthur turned to him, "But she's been misleading them. Or, trying to."
"But why?"
Arthur shrugged. He still didn't know why Grace was helping them. He looked down at her, still asleep and very pale. Her face scrunched slightly in pain and he instinctively took her hand again.
"Hm, well, you know where to find me," Swanson excused himself and left, closing the door quietly.
The following morning, Arthur woke up still holding Grace's hand. He squeezed it before pulling his hand away and stretching, his back stiff from sleeping in the chair all night. She was still breathing, but she was now very pale and grey. He watched her for a few moments, making sure she was indeed still alive, then left.
He left the house to find most of the gang waking up and carrying out their morning routines. After helping with some chores, he removed Grace's saddlebags from Tuula and brought them back to the house.
"Ah, Mr. Morgan," Miss Grimshaw greeted him as he reached the house, "I just checked on Miss Bellerose and she seems to be improving, but she still needs to rest. I'll have some food sent up."
"Thanks." Arthur hurried upstairs and found Grace awake. "Hi."
"Hi," she smiled weakly at him.
"I, uh, brought your-" he held up her saddlebags.
"Thanks." She slowly sat up, "Ow, that hurts."
"You okay?"
"I will be, yes," she brushed him off, "Just takes a day or two. Is there somewhere else I could lie down so you can have your own bed back?"
"It's fine, you can stay there."
"Are you sure?"
"Miss Grace!" Jack interrupted them and ran in, "They said you were here!" he jumped on the bed and hugged her.
"Ouch, hello, Jack," she hugged him back, trying not to show too much pain, "Have you been well?"
"Yes, but what's wrong with your face?" Jack frowned at her pale, grey complexion.
"Oh, that's just what happens when I've been hurt, but I'll be okay," Grace smiled at the boy, "Are you still reading?"
"Yes, I am."
"Very good. I have a new book for you," she gestured to her saddlebags which Arthur passed to her. "Let's see here, ah, here you go." She handed the book to Jack.
"'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland'," Jack read the cover slowly.
"I think you'll like it, it's very silly."
"It's about a girl," Jack scrunched his nose.
"Tell you what, how about we read the first chapter and then you can decide whether you want to keep reading it or not."
"Well, okay."
Arthur sat down as Grace began reading the first chapter to Jack. He knew she was still in a pain, but she did her best to not show it as Jack cuddled next to her. When she had finished the chapter, Jack begged her to continue.
"I think you should read the next chapter," she turned the book and Jack eagerly continued to read with Grace's assistance.
At the end of the chapter, she told Jack she needed to rest.
"But, I want to read more!" Jack insisted.
"And you can, why don't you read the next chapter to someone else?" Grace smiled at him, "Then later you can come back and read me more."
"Okay!" Jack jumped off the bed and dashed out of the room with his new book.
"You need anything?" Arthur asked.
"No, thank you," Grace slowly lay down and closed her eyes.
Before he left, he looked back and saw a tear run down her face.
