The following morning, after sleeping outside on the porch, Arthur went up to his room to find Grace sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in a tan skirt and white blouse.
"Going somewhere?" he asked.
"Yeah, outside," she slowly stood up, "It's stuffy in here, I need some air."
"Heh, it's stuffy out there too," he held his hand out to her, but she waved it away.
"I'm perfectly capable, thank you," she smiled as she headed to the door.
"You're real stubborn, you know that."
"Takes one to know one," she winked at him. He followed her out and down the stairs when they were stopped by Miss Grimshaw.
"Miss Bellerose! What are you doing out of bed?" Miss Grimshaw demanded.
"Going outside," Grace replied.
"You're not well enough yet! Get back up there!"
"But-"
"You better do what she says," Arthur interrupted.
"And you!" Miss Grimshaw turned on him, "Letting her get up in her condition?"
"What was I supposed to do, tie her to the bed?"
Grace snorted into her hand as Miss Grimshaw glared at them. "You get back to bed," she pointed at Grace, "And Mr. Morgan, you will wait until she is better before taking her out."
"He had nothing to do with it," Grace spoke up.
"BED. NOW."
"Okay, I'm going," Grace sighed and turned to Arthur, "Can you check up on Tuula, make sure she's behaving and everything?"
"Sure," he nodded and watched her go back upstairs.
"Well now I can check her over properly," Miss Grimshaw nudged Arthur out of the way.
"You know she used to be a nurse, right?" he said.
"Used to be? She's barely the same age as Miss Gaskill."
"Said she worked as a volunteer nurse for a few years," Arthur shrugged, "Helped me when I was found by those O'Driscolls, also helped me stitch up some cougar scratches on her back."
"Even so, I ain't having any of you fools getting worse because you won't rest," she stomped up the stairs.
"Sounds like she's one of us now," Hosea chuckled as he approached the bottom of the stairs.
"I don't know about that," Arthur turned to him.
"I know," Hosea nodded, then lowered his voice, "I won't blame you."
"For what?"
Hosea looked around and leaned closer to Arthur. "If you want to leave."
"I ain't leaving," Arthur frowned, "Why?"
"Well, like I said, I wouldn't blame you." Hosea looked up at the ceiling, patted Arthur on the shoulder and headed out the back door. Arthur shrugged and left to take care of their horses.
Tuula was grazing on her own closer to the outer gate, only raising her head slightly as Arthur approached. "Hey there, girl." Tuula reached her nose towards him as he reached into his satchel and held out a carrot. She took it eagerly and ate as he pet her. "Grace tried to come out, but ol' Susan wouldn't let her." Tuula snorted. "I know, but she'll come see you as soon as she can sneak out, I imagine." He looked back toward the house, half-expecting to see Grace climbing out one of the windows, and smirked to himself at the thought.
He brushed Tuula and his own horse as he thought about everything that had happened. Kieran's death had hit them all hard, especially Mary-Beth. Karen, Tilly, and Abigail were frequently by her side, comforting her. And Grace had nearly died trying to save Kieran. As much as he regretted not being able to save Kieran himself, Arthur also regretted not being there to prevent Grace from getting hurt. But he was so relieved she was still alive. The thought of losing her hadn't really crossed his mind before, but now he couldn't imagine her not being around. He was glad she was alive and she was here, safe with him, but he knew she wasn't going to stay.
He finished with the horses and headed back towards the house as Miss Grimshaw was leaving.
"How is she?" he asked.
"Looks like she's healing very nicely, I guess it weren't as bad as I thought," she said, "But she still needs to rest."
Arthur nodded and thanked her before going inside. As he went upstairs, he saw Abigail standing in the doorway of his room. He was about to ask what she was doing when she raised a finger to her lips. He looked in his room and saw Jack sitting on the bed with Grace, reading more of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.
"He was so excited to read more with her," Abigail whispered, "I've never seen him so eager to read."
"Heh, I know."
They watched Jack read to Grace, asking her how to pronounce words, or wanting to know what was in the bottle Alice drank that made her grow so big. Grace patiently guided him through more difficult words and explained how the drink was a mystery.
"But why did she drink it if she didn't know what it was?" asked Jack.
"Probably because there was no one to tell her not to drink it," said Grace, "Would you drink something just because it had said 'Drink Me' on the label if you didn't know what it was?"
Jack thought hard for a moment. "No."
"Good boy," she nodded in approval, "You never eat or drink anything unless you know exactly what it is. Or unless your mother or father says it's okay."
Jack thought again and nodded in agreement before continuing to read.
"She's really good with him," Abigail said quietly to Arthur who agreed silently. "Does she have..." she started .
"Not anymore," he replied.
"Oh. I'm sorry." She looked back to Grace and Jack.
Arthur decided to leave them be, heading back to the horses. He sat and leaned against the wall, lighting up a cigarette. He realised that Grace hadn't had a chance to be a mother. Even he had had the opportunity to be a parent, even if he wasn't a very good one. He thought it unfair when she had first told him about her children, and it seemed even more unfair now.
A few days later, Arthur walked into the house and was nearly knocked over by Miss Grimshaw stormed by him.
"That girl is so goddamn stubborn!" she spat.
"Why, what'd she do?"
"She wants to leave, but she's not well enough yet," Miss Grimshaw shook her head.
"We can't just force her to stay."
"Well, she can do whatever she wants because I am done." She stomped out the door. Arthur hesitated, then headed upstairs. Grace wasn't going to actually leave now, was she? He was about to knock on the door when it opened. Grace was wearing her tan skirt and white blouse, still looking pale but far better than she had been.
"So, you leaving?"
"All I said was I wanted to go outside," she rolled her eyes, "I'm sick of being stuck in here."
"Heh, I'm surprised you didn't already sneak out," he led the way downstairs.
"Oh, I tried while you were out but she caught me," Grace smirked, "Honestly thought she was actually going to shackle me to the bed."
"Hah, I'd have liked to see her try," he laughed as they headed outside. "So how are you feeling?"
Grace inhaled deeply. "Ahh, much better now that I'm out of that stuffy room." They heard a shrill whinny as Tuula charged towards them. "Whoa! Stay there!" Grace shouted as she hurried towards her horse. Tuula stopped just past the footbridge and waited. "I know, it's been a little while, hasn't it?" Grace pet Tuula and led her back across the bridge. "Come on, you're not allowed over here."
"At least she stayed over here while you were in the house," Arthur said as he followed.
"Heh, she once followed me into a house a few years ago, got herself stuck at the top of the staircase," Grace laughed as she continued to pet her horse, "Took some doing, but I managed to get her back down again but I think she learned her lesson."
"Why did she follow you?"
"I don't know. I came across a group of young people who were daring each other to go inside. They said some old man died there but he wasn't found for months, but ever since then, the house has been empty because it's supposed to be haunted."
"So you went in?"
"Well, I got tired of them arguing so I said I'd go in. Which I did, and then Tuula followed me."
"Was it haunted?"
"No. There were a lot of birds and some raccoons and squirrels that had gotten in and made it home, so people probably heard those and assumed the house was haunted."
"Heh, almost seems like this one should be haunted," he gestured back to the house.
"Well if it is, the ghosts aren't doing a very good job."
"There's even a graveyard out back."
"Really? Oo, let's go see." She pat Tuula one last time before hurrying back towards the house. As they did, Arthur saw Reverend Swanson hurry away from the gazebo.
"You've lost your mind!" Tilly shouted after him, "Poor bastard."
"What was that about?" Arthur asked her.
"He's seeing things again," Tilly said, then looked over at Grace, "Good to see you out and about."
"Thanks, it's good to be out, even if Miss Grimshaw wanted to keep me inside."
"I don't blame you, it's very warm here."
They were then interrupted by a dark grey dog who barked and ran up to them.
"And this must be Cain," Grace knelt down and held out her hand to the dog who sniffed it, "Jack told me all about you." She pet Cain until he wandered off to do his own thing. "Guess you take all sorts here," she stood up again.
"A regular ragtag bunch of misfits," Tilly smiled as she sat back down in the gazebo.
Arthur and Grace continued behind the house. Other gang members were going about their morning chores and other business.
"Oh." Grace stopped just as they reached the small graveyard. She scrunched up her face as if she was in pain.
"You okay?"
"Shh!" she hissed at him and he kept quiet. But he didn't hear anything out of the ordinary. "But, why are the graves facing away from the house?" she asked quietly.
Arthur looked and noticed that the graves were blank on the sides facing the house. He walked around to the other side to read them.
"This isn't a family graveyard," she said.
"How do you know?" he asked, noting that she hadn't yet been able to read any of the headstones.
"Just... so many..." she looked around frantically before meeting Arthur's eyes and immediately seemed to relax. "Sorry."
"What was that all about?"
"Oh, it's nothing," she brushed him off, "I just get overly emotional around graveyards, that's all."
"You said this isn't a family graveyard."
"Did I?"
"Yeah, you just said."
"Oh. Oh! Right, sorry," she rubbed her temple, "My mind sometimes gets rattled after-" she stopped. "Anyway, you must have plenty to do." She turned and headed back to the house.
Arthur stayed where he was, confused by her behaviour. He read the names on the graves and noticed none of them had the same surname, despite the deaths being only a few years apart. But how did she know that when she didn't even see the names?
He assumed she returned to his room so he decided to leave her be for a while. Maybe she was still affected by her injuries and just became over emotional by the graveyard, as she said. He didn't know what to think of it.
Later that day, Arthur found Grace sitting at a table with Mary-Beth, Karen, and Tilly. He wandered over to listen in.
"So you've really been to Paris?" Mary-Beth asked eagerly.
"Yes, it's lovely," Grace said, "I went to the World's Fair where you could go all the way to the top of the Eiffel Tower, but you had to walk up the stairs. There was supposed to be a lift, but it wasn't working. It took me almost an hour, but the view was so worth it."
"Oh, that must've been so beautiful," Tilly said wistfully.
"It was, especially when it was lit up at night."
"I always wanted to go there," Mary-Beth leaned forward with her chin in her hand.
"I'm sure you will someday."
"Hmpf, we can barely get out of this shithole," Karen scoffed, "Always on the run, having to watch our backs all the time."
"It won't last forever. Besides," Grace leaned in, "the Pinkertons think you're in Mexico right now."
"Until we start making noise down here," Arthur said.
"Have you ever considered staying out of trouble?" Grace smiled up at him.
"Hah, I think trouble would find us anyway."
"Hey, how did you two meet anyway?" Tilly asked, "Arthur never told us."
"Well, I noticed he'd been following me around-"
"Oh, no," Arthur protested, "You were the one following me."
"Well, either way, we just kept running into each other," Grace said.
"Oh, I was hoping for something more romantic," Mary-Beth sighed.
"I think it's nice," said Tilly, "About time you got over Mary, Arthur."
"It's nothing like that," said Grace, "I'm sure Arthur much prefers Mary over me. I imagine she's far less annoying."
Before Arthur could say anything, Pearson nudged him. "Hey, you busy?"
"No, why?"
"We're practically living in God's own pantry, and we're just eating venison," Pearson shook his head, "Come on, let's go get us some crawfish, see what else we can find."
Arthur shrugged. "Fine, let's go, old man."
"None of that 'old man' stuff, I'm in the prime of my life!" Pearson said, picking up a sack and throwing it over his shoulder.
"Whatever you say." They headed back behind the house to the small dock.
"You know, I think your lady is the only one who hasn't complained about my cooking," Pearson said as he climbed into the boat.
"She's not my lady and I think she's too polite to complain," Arthur stepped into the boat and took the oars. He rowed through the swamp, following Pearson's directions as they dug up some crayfish. Then Pearson got the idea to grab some alligator eggs and after a close call with some angry gators, they rowed back to the dock.
"Well, this has been very pleasant," Pearson pulled himself out of the boat with a grunt, "Very pleasant indeed. Now, to go cook up a new stew with these."
"Or you could hatch yourself a new best friend," Arthur joked.
"Now there's an idea," Pearson held up one of the gator eggs, "A new reptilian best friend to replace Micah."
"Hah, not that Micah's ever been your friend," Arthur laughed and started following Pearson back to the house, but he was distracted by Molly crying nearby. He found her near an old shed, but she wasn't alone.
"I don't know what to do," Molly cried.
"I know, it's hard," Grace replied, "But you need to decide whether it's worth staying or not. Clearly you're not happy, so why not move on?"
"Because... because I still love 'im!"
"Love is a fickle thing. Don't let that cloud your judgement over what's best for you."
"But... what would you do if you were in love and Arthur stopped lovin' you back?"
"I'd move on. It's not worth it to stay with people who make you unhappy."
"I guess so."
"You deserve to be happy, Molly."
"Thanks."
"Any time."
Arthur watched Molly go back to the house, wiping her tears but with a slight smile on her face. He joined Grace who was just lighting up a cigarette.
"At least she's talking to someone," he said, lighting up a cigarette himself.
"Apparently everyone here despises her."
"Nah, we don't despise her," he said, "Well, maybe just a little because she don't help out or anything."
"Yeah, I got that impression. She's really hung up on Dutch, huh?"
"Poor girl."
"How did she get mixed up with all of you then?" she leaned back against the shed.
"Oh, she and Dutch met some time ago," he leaned against the shed next to her, "She was looking for excitement, and I think Dutch was just looking for a pretty girl."
"Huh." Grace paused, seemingly deep in thought. "So how did you get involved?"
"Heh, it's been over twenty years ago now. I had no parents, was causing trouble, and Dutch and Hosea found me, took me in, taught me to read and write, taught me lots of things."
"Do you ever wonder where you'd be if you hadn't met them?"
"Hah, probably dead or in jail or something," Arthur laughed.
"Well, I'm glad you're here," she looked down at the ground.
"Me too," he said quietly and thought about taking her hand when Sadie joined them.
"So there you are. Snuck away for a little alone time?" Sadie joked.
"Just having a smoke," said Arthur.
"Hold on, I have something for you," Grace stamped out her cigarette and reached into her satchel.
"For me?" Sadie asked, curious.
"Ah, here it is," she handed Sadie a locket necklace, "It took a bit of work."
"Thank you, it's-" she gasped when she opened it. "It's our wedding picture. But how?"
"Saw your house burning down, went to see if I could save anything for you," Grace shrugged.
"Wait, you ran into a burning house for someone you didn't even know?" Arthur asked.
"Not really," Grace lowered her voice, "Um, your husband kept that picture on him."
"I'm... I don't know what to say," said Sadie after a few moments, her eyes brimming with tears, "I thought I'd never see my Jakey's face again."
"I'm sorry about what happened."
Sadie said nothing but nodded and walked away, still looking at the pictures in the locket.
"Any other surprises you want to pull out of your sleeve?" Arthur asked.
"I've still got all that money you keep refusing," she said.
"Keep it down," he looked around to see if anyone was close enough to be listening.
"You're the only one who knows about it," she said quietly. He opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted. "Arthur, I can't make you take it but I hope you will." She pushed herself away from the shed wall and headed back to the house.
Arthur wandered over to the campfire where some of the others were relaxing while waiting for Pearson to finish cooking. After a short bit, Grace joined them, soon followed by most of the rest of the gang.
"You was in Strawberry, wasn't ya?" asked Micah. "I think I remember you."
"I certainly remember you, Mr. Bell," she said. "You made some extremely crude suggestions at me."
"Heheheh, that I did.".
"And if you weren't already in jail at that time, I would've cut 'em off," Grace smiled at him, "If you're lucky, I still might."
Everyone laughed and Hosea spoke up. "So Arthur tells me you travel a lot. You got any interesting stories?"
"Many. Let me think," she paused. "Oh, this happened some time ago. I was in a small town where the townspeople just hated the sheriff, but they didn't know what to do about it. Anyway, some kid, a boy maybe seventeen or eighteen years old, had stolen a chicken, was caught, and the sheriff decided to hang him."
"For stealing a chicken?" Bill shook his head.
"Apparently. But we all went to the hanging, and we were all yelling at the sheriff to let the kid go. Poor boy was scared half to death and then someone shot the rope just before they pulled the lever. Well, that was enough for the crowd and they ended up hanging the sheriff instead."
"What happened to the boy?" asked Uncle.
"Ran off, I guess," she shrugged, "I didn't see him afterward."
"Do you know who shot the rope?"
"It was the pastor. I was at the back of the crowd and I saw him pull out his pistol, shoot the rope, and then he just walked away like nothing happened."
"The pastor, huh? You know, that's funny," Hosea said, frowning slightly, "Because that exact same thing happened to me."
"You watched a boy nearly get hanged?" Bill asked.
"No, I was the boy who nearly got hanged," Hosea said, "Only that was nearly forty years ago."
Grace was about to speak when she was interrupted by Micah.
"Hey, how old are you anyway, girly?" he asked.
"Old enough," she said shortly.
"And how old is 'old enough'?"
"Old enough to not be called 'girly'," Grace's eyes narrowed slightly.
Arthur smirked as Micah glared at her and Pearson announced the stew was ready. Grace was about to stand up but Miss Grimshaw ordered her to sit back down.
"Arthur will get yours, and yes I know you're capable but you still need to rest."
"Yes, ma'am," Grace bit her lip to keep from giggling.
Arthur handed her a bowl of stew and a chunk of bread then sat next to her with his own.
"Thanks," she started eating. "Oo, this is good."
"It's okay, you don't need to lie," said Karen.
"No, I'm being serious," Grace dipped her bread into the stew, "Especially now that I can actually taste things again. Maybe I'm just not that good of a cook."
"Better be careful, Arthur, if Pearson hears that he'll try to marry her," laughed Bill.
"Aw, it isn't like that," Grace said before Arthur could say anything.
"You must think we're blind," Tilly grinned. Grace just smiled back.
"So, Miss, erm," Dutch shooed Lenny out of a chair and sat down.
"Bellerose."
"Miss Bellerose, yes, so where are you from?"
"New York."
"Big city. What made you leave?"
"Boredom. Wanted to see the world."
"Yes, so Arthur tells us."
"If I may ask, but what is your plan, Mr. van der Linde?" Grace asked.
Dutch hesitated then leaned forward toward her. "Well, first we need money."
"I know that, but I meant after you get the money."
"We are going to escape the shackles of this godforesaken country and move to Tahiti."
Grace snorted out laughing. Dutch frowned, looking offended, while Arthur tried to keep himself from laughing too. He didn't know what exactly was so funny, but her laughter was contagious.
"Sorry, but seriously?" she said, wiping a tear from her eye.
"Is there something wrong with that?" Dutch glared at her.
"Well, for one, do any of you speak Tahitian? Or French?" she looked around and everyone shook their heads. "Not many people speak English in the city. Plus it's very warm and humid there, which is fine if you like that sort of weather, but there's also cyclones."
"Cyclones?" asked Abigail.
"Windy rainstorms, like hurricanes," Grace said. "Then there's the volcano, which may or may not be active, I don't know, I didn't find out."
"Volcano?!"
"Wait, have you been to Tahiti?" asked Hosea.
"A few years back. Went with a painter friend."
Arthur looked around at the others. Dutch was clearly annoyed, while Hosea looked amused. The rest just looked a bit confused. Dutch had been telling them that they would leave America for a paradise, but here's someone who says she's actually been there and it doesn't sound all that great anymore.
"Well, I can tell I've hit a nerve and I apologise," said Grace, "Frankly, I think you're better off escaping up to Canada. It might not be the tropical paradise you want, but you will certainly find plenty of space to get lost in."
"We'll consider it," said Hosea.
"You could try your hand at gold mining up in the Yukon, but be prepared for very cold weather and to really lay low because I have heard the police up there are very strict."
"Gold? Now there's something," said Bill.
When they had finished eating, most of the gang went about their evening duties while Grace wandered off over to her horse. Arthur soon joined her.
"So, you really think we could go prospecting for gold?" he asked as he watched her pet Tuula's nose.
"Maybe. I mean, you'd have to stay out of trouble," she paused then smirked slightly. "Or at least try to. Lots of other people have gone to try their luck."
"And what about you?"
"I'll leave the gold mining to someone else."
"No, I mean-"
"I know what you mean," she looked up at him, "And no, I won't go with you."
Before Arthur could speak again, Herr Strauss hurried over to then.
"Herr Morgan, when you have a moment-"
"Lending again?"
"And it's time for him to pay up," Strauss held out a piece of paper to him, "A fisherman by the name of Algie Davison, lives down at Catfish Jackson's."
"Fine," Arthur took the paper and frowned down at it.
"We need money, Mr. Morgan, if we are to leave for Tahiti or Canada or wherever else you're thinking of," he said, "Frankly I think we're better off going to Australia."
"Australia?"
"It's far away and the people there are like us. So every cent counts."
"He has a point," Grace said after Strauss left them, "Australia would be far enough away. Plus it's fairly warm and they speak English there."
Arthur nodded slightly in agreement. "So I guess I'll pay this Algie Davison a visit tomorrow."
"I'll go with you. It's about time I left anyway."
"If you're sure."
"I'm fine."
"But, earlier, at the graveyard..."
"Like I said, I'm fine. It's nothing to worry about." She turned and headed back to the house. Arthur watched Jack run up to her, holding a book and talking excitedly. He didn't want her to leave. Not yet, anyway.
