Grace was ready to go when Arthur woke up the next morning, waiting near the horses while talking to Charles. He rushed upstairs to change and as he did, he noticed his pictures of Grace were gone and replaced by his picture of Mary. He frowned and quickly looked in his trunk, but didn't have time to rummage though it. Instead he grabbed some extra ammo and hurried outside.
"All set?" Grace greeted him with a smile. Charles had already left to take up his guard post.
"Yeah," he packed a few things into his saddlebag and turned to her. "Why'd you go through my stuff?"
"Hm? Oh, you mean the picture of Mary? I think it looks far better than the other ones."
"I liked the other ones."
"I'm sure, but it's better this way," she stared at him intently, "Anyway, let's get going."
They mounted up and rode out in silence. They headed through the trees and across the field, pausing briefly by Kieran's grave.
"Nice spot the reverend chose," Grace said quietly. Arthur nodded in agreement before they continued to the road. "So how did Reverend Swanson join you?"
"Heh, well I don't know all the details, but old Swanson saved Dutch's life," he said, "And Swanson was in a bit of a bad spot, so he was allowed to stay with us."
"Seems like he's still in a bad spot. He's been saying he saw a ghost in the swamps."
"With the amount he drinks, I'm surprised he can see anything."
"I'm just surprised he's only seen one ghost."
"So you believe in ghosts?"
"Yes, and no," she said slowly, "I think there's an explanation for most alleged sightings, but I also think there may genuinely be ghosts. There's nothing to be afraid of, I think ghosts are just echoes of those who died and they can't hurt us."
Arthur paused before asking. "Did you see any ghosts in that old graveyard?"
"No. Well, maybe? I don't know. My mind was still recovering from... well, you know, and I thought I was seeing things that weren't actually there. Does that make sense?"
"No."
"Well, it'll have to."
They continued on to Catfish Jackson's and dismounted near the house. Arthur knocked on the door. It soon opened a crack.
"Yeah?"
"I'm here for Algie Davison, he owes us money," Arthur said.
"Oh, that's Pa. He's down by the lake." The door shut quickly. Arthur looked back at Grace.
"Well, guess he's been fishing," she shrugged. They walked the short distance to the lake to find Algie Davison sitting against a log and drinking.
"Hey!" he yelled at them, "You... you better have a damn good reason for being on my property."
"You remember that loan you took, Mr. Davison?" Arthur advanced on him. "Well I'm here to collect."
"Sure, sure," Algie stumbled to his feet, "I got your money. Every stinkin' cent. It's in the house." He started leading the way back. "Hell, I'll even offer you a drink. If you'll take my money, surely you'll take a drink offa me as well. That would be the mannerly thing to do."
"Let's just handle the money first, worry about manners later, okay?"
"You keep your wife outside," Algie glared over at Grace, "I ain't having no white woman in my house."
Arthur was about to speak up but Grace stopped him. "That's fine, I'm only along for the ride." She headed back to their horses as Arthur followed Algie inside the house.
"Someone's here, boy!" Algie called out as he entered.
"Pa? Wait, what's going on?" a young man flinched as he saw Arthur enter the kitchen after Algie.
"Don't just stand there, go fix us a drink!" Algie ordered. His son hurried over to a broken cabinet and started checking bottles for any that still had something in them.
"A-another one, Pa?"
"Just do it, boy! I need to look down here for our savings," Algie opened the cupboards under his sink and knelt down to look. "Best place for 'em," he added when he saw Arthur's questioning face.
"Uh, drinks ready, mister, right here," Algie's son nervously said, pointing at a glass on the table.
Arthur moved to the table and picked up the glass. Suddenly Algie grabbed him from behind.
"Shouldn't have turned your back on me, you parasite!"
Arthur elbowed him in the stomach, making him let go, as his son ran from the room. Algie regained his composure and attacked Arthur with a knife, but Arthur quickly took out his pistol and shot him. The door burst open as Grace ran in.
"Oh my god, what happened?" she asked, looking between Arthur and Algie's dead body.
"Bastard attacked me," Arthur said, holstering his pistol and picking up a small box Algie had been holding, "And he still don't have our money!" He threw down the box.
"Don't worry about that, let me see your hand." He looked down and realised his hand was cut and bleeding from when he was attacked. He held it out to her as she wiped the blood away with a clean cloth.
"Oh, you don't have your handkerchief," Arthur realised.
"No, it was taken when-"
"I know. I assumed you wouldn't want it back."
"I have others at my cabin," she leaned in closer for a better look. "It's not deep, so just keep it clean."
"Well, I still find something here to pay off this debt, and no, you're not paying it," he said firmly. Grace stared at him for a moment, shook her head, and left the kitchen. Arthur started going through cupboards and cabinets, to see if there were any valuables, but they were mostly empty.
He opened the door to a bedroom and he could hear whimpering under the bed. Arthur sighed in annoyance.
"Son, I want to get out of here, but I can't until I find some money."
"There's... there's some in my-my foot locker," the young man stammered, "I been keeping it away from him. Should be enough. I hope."
Arthur opened the small foot locker at the end of the bed, dug around in the shabby clothing until he found a small wad of bills. "Well, ain't that lucky. Just enough to cover the debt."
"Nate?" Grace said gently as she entered the room, holding a piece of paper.
"Y-yeah? That's me," the young man peeked out from under the bed, "How'd you know?"
"Come on out, it's okay," she said. Arthur raised his eyebrow at her, wondering what she was up to. Nate slowly crawled out from under the bed, nearly stumbling as he tried to back away from Arthur.
"I'm sorry about my pa, but he's-"
"It's okay. Here," she held out the paper to him, "I found this in your father's room." Nate hesitantly took it and read it.
"It's... it's from Momma," his eyes widened, "I thought she left us for good. Pa said she didn't love us no more."
"She seems to be living up north, near the Canadian border," Grace pointed to the address. "It's nice now, but you'll need warmer clothes for the autumn."
"But, I don't-" he looked nervously over at Arthur.
"Here," she held out a small stack of money, far more than the debt.
"But-" Nate looked back over at Arthur.
"Oh, don't worry about him," she shoved the money into Nate's hand. "All he was here for was the debt, which has been repaid. I'm sorry about what happened to your father, but maybe now you can start again with your mother."
Nate smiled widely. "Thanks, miss, I'll get packing right away!" He hurried back to his footlocker.
Grace pulled Arthur out of the house and mounted up on Tuula.
"What was that all about?" he asked, mounting his horse.
"I guess his father was keeping his mother's letters hidden," she shrugged, "Mr. Davison doesn't seem to be the loving type of parent."
"No, I guess not." He followed her back to the road. "Think that kid'll be okay?"
"I hope so." She stopped at the fork in the road. "Well, I'm going to head up this way. Thanks for everything."
"Wait, you ain't coming back?"
"No. I have my own things to do which don't include trying to rob everyone with a bank account," she grinned.
"Like what?"
"Don't be nosey," she wiggled her finger at him, "But I promise I won't be ratting you out. I'll see you around sometime, Arthur." She looked at him sadly but before he could ask if she was okay, she turned and cantered away down the road.
Arthur watched until she disappeared from view then trotted back to camp. He missed her already, but he knew he'd see her again soon. He dismounted and slowly walked back into camp. Jack ran up to him.
"Where's Miss Grace?"
"She had to go do some things."
"Oh. When will she be back?"
"I don't know, but how about you read more of your book so you can show her when she gets back?"
"We finished reading about Alice."
"How was it?"
"It was very good. She gave me a new one. Treasure Island."
"What's that one about?"
"It's about pirates!"
"Well, I bet if you read as much as you can, she'll be very impressed when she comes back."
"Okay!"
Arthur smiled to himself as he watched Jack run back to the house. Poor kid. It must be tough for him with no one his own age. Everyone was usually too busy to spend much time with Jack, even his own parents. Abigail tried, of course, but she still had her own duties to do around camp. He wondered how much better it would be if they were able to escape, go somewhere far away, away from all the lawmen and Pinkertons, living on a farm or something, all of them together, free. Jack wouldn't have to be scared anymore.
But Grace wouldn't be there. Of course she wouldn't be. And the thought of it was disheartening.
"Where's Grace?" Molly demanded as she rushed out the door.
"She had some things to do."
"When will she be back?"
"I don't know."
"Damn it," Molly grumbled.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, just... I need to talk to her."
"I'll let her know when I see her next."
He headed into the house in time to see Jack rush out the side door with a large book in his arms. Arthur slowly plodded upstairs to his room and sat on his bed. He picked up the picture of Mary and looked down at it. It felt like so long ago when he met her in Saint Denis. He stood, opened his trunk, and wrapped the picture in a shirt. He then rummaged through his trunk and found the picture of Grace and himself at the bottom, along with a large pouch full of money. It took him a moment to realise it was the same one Grace had left at the pirate ship for him.
Then he realised she expected him to leave with the gang and that she was saying goodbye earlier. But how could he leave now, especially with how he felt about her? He'd have to try to think of something. How could he choose between them?
"Hey, Arthur." Hosea knocked lightly on the open door before entering. Arthur quickly closed his trunk.
"Hosea. What's happening?"
"We've got a couple things cooking. Trelawney and I have been planning something with a high stakes poker tournament which you'll be part of."
"I ain't too great at winning at poker," Arthur said.
"I know, but we're still working out details. Herr Strauss will be involved too, so we'll let you know when we're ready. Won't be for a few days at least."
"Okay. What else is going on?"
"Dutch has taken another look at the trolley station," Hosea frowned.
"Is it even worth it? Grace said it doesn't look like it has much money to rob."
"Can't say I disagree, but Dutch is going to scope it out a bit more and he'll want you to go with him when it's time."
"Of course. Anything else?"
"Not yet." Hosea moved back to the door. "So I'd say you got a few days to do whatever you want." He looked knowingly at Arthur before leaving.
Arthur opened his trunk and made sure the pouch of money was hidden at the bottom. He replaced the picture of himself and Grace beside his bed. There wasn't any rush to give the money to the gang just yet, so he had time to find her. But where did she go? Maybe to her cabin, but he didn't really know where that was and it might take him too long to locate it. Where else?
He looked back in his trunk and pulled out the other picture he had of Grace. Of course.
The ride up back to the mountains took a day and a half. The sun was already setting as Arthur rode down the hill to the frozen lake. Grace was skating with her ice hockey stick, wearing long pants today instead of the wool skirt from the last couple of times they'd been here. She was hitting wooden pucks through the rocks she set up as goal posts. She didn't seem to notice him riding up, or if she did, she was ignoring him. He rode around to the cabin and hitched his horse near Tuula.
When Grace still didn't acknowledge his presence, he went into the cabin to retrieve his skates, put them on and slowly skated out to her.
"You okay?" he asked when he was near enough.
She didn't say anything, but shot another goal.
"Grace," he skated closer to her.
"Why are you here?" she spun around to him.
"To find you."
"Did you find the money?"
"Yes."
"Then why haven't you all left?"
"Because I ain't keeping it."
"Oh, for god's sake!" she hit the next puck so hard her stick splintered. She threw it across the ice angrily and turned back to him. "I am giving you a chance to get the hell out and actually live! Why aren't you taking it?"
"Because I don't want to leave you!"
"But you have to."
"Why?"
Grace didn't speak for a moment, then sighed. "You will eventually."
"What does that mean?"
"They all leave in the end," she said quietly.
"Well I ain't leaving you," he skated next to her and took her hand, "I promise."
She pulled her hand away. "Don't make promises you can't keep." She turned and skated back to the cabin. Arthur gathered all the wooden pucks strewn about the ice and her broken stick and brought them back. He changed into his boots and went into the cabin.
Grace was sitting on her bed with her knees drawn up to her chest. Arthur took off his coat, hung it up and sat on the bed next to her.
"You're right," he said after a moment, "I shouldn't make promises I can't keep."
She didn't say anything but sniffled slightly. He moved closer and put his arm around her. She leaned into him heavily and he hugged her close.
"I just don't understand why you won't just go."
"You know why."
"Arthur, we can't be together the way we want to be."
"Why not?"
"We just can't," she pulled away and stood, "Have you eaten yet?"
"Not for a while, no."
Grace picked up a bowl from the table, ladled out some stew from a pot on the firestove and handed it to him. She sat at the table, opened her journal and started writing. Arthur watched her as he ate, still sitting on the bed.
"You're left-handed," he said between bites.
"Yes I am, Sherlock," she said without looking up.
"What'd you call me?"
"Sherlock, as in Sherlock Holmes. It's a character, a detective, in a series of mystery novels. Terrific reads."
"Ah, so you like mysteries. And vampires."
"Hm?"
"That book you bought in Saint Denis. Feller said it was about a vampire."
"Oh! Dracula. It's quite good, I'm enjoying it so far."
"You're not finished reading it?"
"No, I've been busy." She still hadn't looked up from her writing.
He watched her write for a short bit longer. "What else do you read?"
"I read all sorts of things."
"What's your favourite?"
She paused to think. "Oh, gosh, there are so many. Maybe The Castle of Wolfenbach, that was my favourite when I was younger. Probably because I wasn't allowed to read it."
"Why not?"
"It was considered unsuitable," Grace smirked to herself, "But I took off the cover and pasted on a cover of a different book so it looked like I was reading some dreadful romance instead."
"You degenerate."
"I know, I should be in jail," she laughed. She was about to return to writing when she noticed Arthur staring at her. "What?"
"It's nice to hear you laugh."
"Well, I suppose it's better than being angry, which I still am, by the way."
"Why?"
"Because you still won't take my money and leave."
"And you still won't give me a reason." He stood and set his empty dish on the table. He put his coat back on and went outside to light up a cigarette. Maybe he was the idiot, not taking the money so they could all leave. But he didn't understand why she wouldn't go along with them. If she did, how could he keep her safe? She nearly died trying to save poor Kieran. She nearly died saving Jack and John when they fell in the river. She risked her life getting into the Bronte house to look after Jack until they got him.
Maybe she was right. They couldn't be together. He didn't want her becoming like him, like them. And he knew he couldn't change. If he didn't change for Mary, why would he for Grace? Maybe he didn't actually love her like he thought he did.
Arthur flicked the cigarette butt into the snow and went back inside. Grace was now in her bed facing the wall with the blankets nearly pulled up over her head. He sat at the table and took out his own journal to write a bit. Her journal was still open on the table. He quickly glanced over at Grace and reached for it. He knew he shouldn't, but curiosity got the better of him.
He frowned at the writing. It wasn't even English. It didn't even look like English. Of course she'd probably write in some other language, whatever this one is. He carefully turned the pages, wondering what they said. He carefully set it back down on the table.
"Was it a good read?"
"Jesus!" He jumped in his chair and looked over to see Grace facing him and smirking slightly. "Sorry."
"Eh, if you figured out how to read it, I'd be impressed," she shrugged slightly under the blankets.
"Yeah, well, I only know English, and badly at that."
"It is written in English."
Arthur frowned. "No, it ain't." He picked up her journal again. "I don't even know these letters."
"Well, there's a trick to reading it."
"What is it?"
"A girl needs to have some secrets, you know."
"Heh," he put her journal down again. "So will you come back with me?"
"No. But I'll ride out tomorrow with you. Good night, Arthur."
"Good night."
He waited until she was asleep before lying down in the other bed and stared at the ceiling for what seemed like hours before finally falling asleep. He dreamt of her, as he usually did these nights, especially after that evening in Saint Denis, even if it didn't end well. Does she dream of him too?
The following morning, Arthur woke up to an empty cabin. He figured she was outside skating, but then he noticed her skates were still lying by the firestove. She must be feeding the horses. He went outside, but didn't see her. Tuula was gone too.
Damn it. She said she would ride with him! How could she do this to-
His thoughts were interrupted by a pile of snow falling on his head and Grace snorting with laughter somewhere behind him.
"What the-" he brushed the snow off himself and looked around for her. But he didn't see her. He frowned slightly, then heard a whistle. He looked up and got another pile of snow to the face.
"That's for not taking the money," Grace said.
Arthur brushed the snow off himself and saw Grace crouched on the roof of the cabin. "How'd you get up there?"
"I climbed."
"Where's your horse?"
"Over there," she pointed around the side of the lake. He could just see Tuula pawing through the snow behind some trees.
"How are you getting down?"
"So many questions," Grace smiled down at him, "I'll probably jump off. It's not that far."
"Well, come on then," he held his arms out to her.
"I think I can manage myself, thank you," she said, "I'm not totally helpless."
"Just don't want to see you hurt, is all."
"Gosh, well good thing you're here. What ever would I do without you?" Grace stood and dramatically put her hand to her forehead, took a few steps back and slid backward off the other side of the cabin.
"Grace!" Arthur rushed to the other side of the cabin. She was on her back in the snow, eyes closed and not moving. "Damn it," he ran to her side. "Grace?" He gently shook her shoulders. "Come on, wake up."
He got another face full of snow and fell back from the force and sudden coldness. As he was wiping the snow off his face, she sat up laughing.
"My hero," she grinned before dumping more snow on him.
"Stop doing that!"
"Why? Is it annoying?"
"Yes!"
"Oh." There was a pause and she threw more snow in his face.
"Why are you being so annoying?"
"Imagine how less annoying I'd be if you just took the money and left."
Arthur groaned. "Is that what this is about?"
"Yes! Well, mostly."
"Mostly?"
"It's fun," Grace grinned at him.
"For you, maybe."
"Exactly." She threw more snow at him. He narrowed his eyes and then threw snow back at her. They fought in the snow until he pinned her down with her hands over her head.
"You gonna stop?"
"You gonna take the money?"
Arthur let go of her hands and sat up, sighing.
"Arthur, don't be stupid," she sat up on her elbows, "You know damn well that if you took the money, you can all leave and no one else will die."
"I know," he said quietly.
"I can't go with you when you do."
"Why not?"
"I just can't. What would I even do?"
"Well, you could-" Arthur stopped. What would she do if she joined them? And for that matter, what would the rest of them do if they left? Would they just stop their criminal ways to do... what? "Well, what do you want?"
"I want you to get off me."
"Oh, sorry," he stood and helped her up. She brushed snow off her back.
"Well, let's get going," she walked past him.
"Go where?"
She stopped and turned to him. "I assume you're going back to camp."
"Right. Well then you can give them the money when we get there."
"I said I would ride out from here with you, I didn't say I was going back with you."
"Why are you being a stubborn ass?"
"Why are you?"
They stared each other down with narrowed eyes until they both started laughing. Grace whistled for Tuula and tacked her up while Arthur tended to his horse. They mounted up and rode out.
"You know, something's been bugging me," said Arthur.
"Yeah, me," Grace tittered.
"Hah, yes, but something else. Why did you take those Cornwall papers from the mayor's office?"
"Hm?"
"Back at the mayor's fancy party. I got caught but you went in and got them. Why?"
"Oh, well, I noticed you left when you heard the name 'Cornwall' and I followed you. I figured you might get caught so I snuck up to the mayor's office in case you had someone else try. And who's to say it wouldn't have ended in a bloodbath if they were unsuccessful too?" she paused. "Besides, I've not heard a single nice thing about Mr. Cornwall so I don't care if you robbed him blind."
"That doesn't sound like you."
Grace shrugged. "There are some very nasty people out there who deserve everything that's coming to them."
"Even Leviticus Cornwall?"
"Especially Leviticus Cornwall," she paused, "He's had people killed to reduce competition."
"That don't surprise me."
"So be careful with whatever you're planning for him."
"I will."
"Though you wouldn't have to worry about it if you just left with the money."
Arthur didn't say anything as they continued to ride out of the snow. He knew she was right and it would be so easy for them to leave. But how could he leave her now? How could he convince her to leave with him?
"Well, I'm going to head this way," she said as they reached a fork in the road, "You're not going to leave, are you?"
"I don't know," Arthur shrugged, "How do I explain all that money?"
"Just tell them you got lucky with a treasure map or something. Anyway, I'll see you around." She turned her horse and cantered down the road away from him. He reluctantly headed the opposite direction to go back to camp.
Damn it.
