Arthur had many questions for Grace, but instead kept quiet to let her recover. She was restless during the night and he tried to keep her settled. In the morning, he found her picking through the remains of her cabin. He let her be as he packed up.

"You okay?" he asked when she joined him.

She nodded, still sniffling. . "I will be. It's… I've always known I'd lose everything at some point, I just didn't expect it to be so sudden."

"Anything left?"

"No. Just some of the pots, but those are unusable." She paused by the empty grave which was supposed to be hers. "I guess we should fill this in, make it look like I'm actually dead."

Arthur agreed and helped her fill it up. As he tied a couple of broken branches together for a grave marker, Grace wandered out to pick some flowers. She placed some on the empty grave and the rest on Tuula's. She quietly cried as he put his arm around her. She looked even more sickly than he'd seen before with the bruises on her face and still wearing her dirty, torn dress.

"Well, we should get going. The sooner they can all get out, the better," she said.

"Don't you want to change?" he asked, running his hand down what was left of one of the sleeves.

"Into what?" she gestured around.

"Right," he realised.

"I'll worry about it later," she said, heading to his horse, "We'll tell them there was an accident. Tuula spooked and we both went down the side of the mountain."

Arthur nodded and mounted up, helping her up behind him. They rode away on Arthur's horse back to Beaver Hollow. They didn't speak for the entire journey. There wasn't much to say.

When they arrived, Javier barely greeted Arthur but looked surprised to see Grace. "Oh, you're here?"

"Why wouldn't she be?" Arthur asked as he and Grace dismounted.

"We were told you weren't coming back," Javier said to Grace, then shrugged and turned back to his guard duty. Arthur and Grace looked at each other, confused, but headed to Dutch who was talking with Micah.

"Dutch, listen, we–" Arthur started to say.

"What's she doing here?" Micah demanded.

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked, taking a step forward in front of Grace.

"I saw you hanged! You're dead!" Micah sneered as he pointed at her.

"Clearly not," Grace said calmly, "But you all will be if you don't leave right now. The Pinkertons know where you are."

"And who told them that?" Dutch asked angrily.

"No one needed to tell them with all of the crap you've been doing, you may as well have put a sign with lights on it, 'This Way to the van der Linde Gang's Hiding Place'," Grace retorted, "I don't know how long you have but you need to leave before they ambush the place."

"So how'd you survive getting hanged?" Micah asked.

"You must be mistaken," she said simply.

Micah scoffed and Dutch glared at her suspiciously. "And where would we go?" Dutch asked after a moment.

"Get to Annesburg, get a boat, and leave," Grace said, "You could go north to Canada."

Dutch was silent for a moment. "No. I have a plan and we are sticking to it."

"Fine," Grace threw up her hands and stalked off. Arthur followed her to his wagon where she sat on his cot.

"So what now?" he sat next to her.

"Now I guess we try to convince the others to leave," she said, but she didn't sound so sure.

"Grace! You're alive!" Abigail rushed over and hugged her, "Micah said you'd been hanged."

"So I hear," Grace rolled her eyes, "I don't want to impose, but do you have something I can wear? I can't stay in this and I'm afraid I've lost my other clothing."

"Oh, of course," Abigail led Grace to her tent, leaving Arthur at his wagon.

Grace rejoined him a few minutes later, now wearing a clean blue dress and her hair pulled back under a kerchief. "I need to lie down," she said quietly, "My neck is still sore."

Arthur nodded and left so she could have some time to rest. He sat by the campfire and was soon joined by Uncle and John. They inquired about Grace, wondering why she was alive when Micah said she had been hanged. Arthur told them it was a mistake on Micah's part and that Grace had only been in an accident. They seemed satisfied with the explanation.

"Hey Sadie," Uncle said as she sat on a chair by the fire, "Crazy about what happened to Grace, huh?"

"Oh, uh, yeah," Sadie looked at Arthur confused.

"Yeah, it's a shame that she and her horse took that fall," Arthur said, hoping she'd take the hint.

"Oh! Right, that was something," Sadie said, "How is she today?"

"Tired, she just needs some time to recover," Arthur looked back where he could see Grace curled up on his cot, "So what's been happening?"

"Not much. Charles is at the reservation, guess they need help. I don't trust those two creeps Micah brought in."

Arthur wanted to tell them to leave, but couldn't at that moment. Javier and Bill then joined them and he knew they were both still willing to go with Dutch's plan, whatever that was. He looked around the camp, trying to see into the trees around them, wondering if any Pinkertons were hiding out yet, waiting to ambush the camp. If they did, no one would survive and he couldn't be sure if they would be merciful towards the women and Jack.

Grace remained in bed for the rest of the day, only sitting up to have a little bit of stew. Jack sat with her and they read some of a book. When Abigail came to collect Jack, he insisted on singing that French song to her.

"To make you feel better," Jack said. When they finished the song and he left, Grace had tears in her eyes. Arthur sat beside her as she cried softly into his shoulder.

"Sorry," she sniffled after a few minutes, "I just get over emotional when I'm recovering."

"I understand," he said, even though he didn't really. But he knew she was hurting, not just from being hanged, but also from losing her horse and all of her personal effects.

"Has Dutch divulged his plan yet?"

"No, he's talked to no one except Micah all day."

"Well, hopefully the Pinkertons won't show up for a little while," she then lowered her voice, "Can we go somewhere tomorrow?"

"Where?"

"Doesn't matter, I just want to get out of here for a while."

"Sure. We'll go first thing in the morning." He kissed the side of her head and she lay back down.

The next day, when Arthur was sure that he wasn't going to be called upon to do anything, he rode out along with Grace who seemed to be feeling a little better. He decided to ride north and as they did, they kept their eyes open for any Pinkertons lurking about.

"So is there anywhere in particular you want to go?" he asked her as they passed by Annesburg.

"You know that waterfall where we went fishing after seeing the professor with the automaton? Let's go there."

He took her hand and squeezed it. They continued on the road, enjoying the peacefulness of leaves rustling in the wind and birds chirping. For a few blissful moments, he could pretend everything was just the way it was supposed to be.

They crossed the railroad tracks and were heading towards the water when Grace patted his arm.

"Hey, stop," she said. "I think there's someone over there."

Arthur tensed, expecting to see Pinkertons, but he couldn't see anyone. She pointed down the road towards a cabin and he could just see someone kneeling on the ground.

"Let's see if they're okay," Grace said. Arthur nodded and rode towards the person. As they neared, they could see it was a woman kneeling at what looked like a grave. They stopped and dismounted, but the woman didn't seem to notice.

"This was supposed to be our little adventure," she sniffled, "All we needed was each other, that's what you said."

"Pardon me, but are you alright?" Grace asked and the woman jumped up, startled.

"Who are you? What do you want?" she demanded.

"It's alright, ma'am, we don't mean you no harm," Arthur said, holding up his hands to show he was unarmed..

The woman sighed sadly. "It doesn't matter anymore. If an outlaw or wild animal doesn't get me, starvation will." She knelt back at the grave. "We came here from the city in search of a different life. Something more real than the indulgences of city life."

"Can we take you somewhere? Into town or to the nearest train station?" Arthur asked.

"No, I can't give up now," the woman said defiantly, "He wouldn't want that."

"He wouldn't want you to get killed or starve to death, either," said Grace.

"You're right, but I don't know what to do," she started to cry softly, "We didn't know the first thing about hunting. Couldn't even catch a mouse."

"We could teach you how to hunt and fish," Grace said.

"I don't know," the woman sighed sadly, "It would be a lot to ask of a stranger."

"We don't mind," said Arthur.

The woman thought about it. "Alright. I guess I have no choice but to trust you." She stood and looked at Grace, seeing how sickly she looked. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, yes, I'll be fine," Grace said, "I'm just recovering from a nasty fall the other day."

"Why don't you stay here and rest while I take Mrs., um," Arthur looked over at the woman.

"Balfour. Charlotte Balfour."

"Arthur Morgan, Grace M- I mean, Bellerose," he introduced them, "I'll show you how to hunt and skin an animal, then when she's feeling better, she'll show you how to fish."

"Thank you," Charlotte followed Arthur into the trees while Grace sat near the grave.

He showed her how to stay silent and keep track of the wind direction. Then he spotted a rabbit he could shoot. "Now, it's best to try to aim for the head for a quick kill." He aimed his pistol and shot the rabbit dead.

"There, now you skin it," he led her over to the rabbit, "Hold the legs tightly and grab the skin at its rear, then pull quickly."

Charlotte hesitantly picked up the rabbit by its hind legs and took hold of the skin. It took a couple of tries, but she managed to pull the fur off.

"I did it!" she said proudly.

"That should keep you fed for a few days, at least," he started back towards the cabin, "This ain't such a bad spot. Got plenty of game, good water source."

"Heh, I'm sure you and your lady friend would have no problem surviving here. Whether I could is a different matter entirely. I've barely even left the city before we moved out here."

Grace was waiting for them on the front steps of Charlotte's cabin. "Looks like a good rabbit," she said.

"Yes, first time I've ever skinned one," Charlotte held out the rabbit to have another look, "Now to cook it." She didn't sound sure of herself which Grace seemed to catch.

"I can show you how to prepare it for cooking, and also how to preserve some of the meat for later."

Charlotte eagerly agreed and they went into the cabin. Despite Grace clearly feeling unwell, she taught Charlotte how to remove the meat from the rabbit and cook it. As they did, Charlotte told them more about how she and her husband had come out to the wilderness.

"People always talk about the simplicity of country life, but there's nothing simple about any of this," she said.

"I guess we only know what we know," said Arthur.

Charlotte scoffed. "I'm sure it wouldn't take you too long to adjust to a life of privilege and indolence in the big city."

"I don't know about that, it sounds awful," said Arthur.

"That it is," Grace added, "Well, I suppose it's not too bad if you're in the right company. Same with living out here."

"I suppose you're right, but it is easier in the city than out here."

"It gets easier surviving on your own once you get used to it," Grace said.

"And she would know, having lived in the city before," Arthur added.

"Where did you live?"

"New York."

"Oh, why did you leave?"

Grace hesitated for a second. "I got bored, wanted to do something else. So I left without knowing much of anything, but I learned."

"I guess you're one of the lucky ones," Charlotte sighed.

"May I ask how your husband died?" Grace asked gently.

"A bear got him, it was horrible," Charlotte said, "He lasted a few days."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Do you have a rifle?" Arthur asked.

"Yes, well, it's my husband's," Charlotte pointed to a rifle leaning against the wall by the door.

"I suggest you learn how to use it, and carry it with you when you go out."

She nodded and offered him and Grace some of the rabbit which they declined. "I insist, please."

They ate the cooked rabbit which turned out pretty good, despite Charlotte's inexperience. She told them more about her husband, Cal, and how she was determined to be able to survive out here. After they ate, Grace borrowed Arthur's fishing pole and showed her how to fish.

"I guess this means I'll need my own pole," Charlotte said as Grace threw back the fish she had caught.

"We'll head into town and arrange for some supplies to be delivered to you," said Grace, "Your own fishing pole, as well as some extra ingredients for cooking and maybe some seeds to plant for a garden."

"You don't need to do that, I want to–"

"It's fine," Grace interrupted her, "You won't be considered a failure if you get some help from town. Everyone needs to start somewhere."

"You're right. Thank you."

Charlotte and Grace returned to the cabin where Arthur was resting along with his horse.

"I don't know how to thank you both," Charlotte said.

"You can thank us by living a good life out here," said Grace, "But there's no shame in moving to town and back to the city if you need to."

"No, I am staying out here," she said firmly, "But I see what you're saying."

Arthur and Grace bid her goodbye as she looked happier and more relieved than when they first found her. They rode out and Grace said they should head to Annesburg.

"I said I'd have some supplies delivered for her, just to get her a bit more on her feet."

"Sure." They decided to ride alongside the railroad tracks to the town, aiming to avoid any possible Pinkertons or bounty hunters.

When they arrived, Grace went into the general store to order supplies to be sent to Charlotte while Arthur sat outside with his horse. He was exhausted from the day, but was glad to help someone. Grace came out and sat beside him.

"That should do Charlotte for a while," she said, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"How long did it take you to learn how to survive?"

"Well, it was different for me. I was forced out of the city, but I did have some help. I learned how to hunt and fish from the Indians that took me in, and even then I only did so sporadically over the years because I was on the move so much.

"But we should get going, find somewhere to rest," she stood up, "We can't stay here." She then lowered her voice. "I heard someone talking about seeing more Pinkertons show up in Saint Denis."

He nodded and they mounted up on his horse. "Where to?" he asked as they rode out of Annesburg.

"I don't know," she sighed, "I guess we should head back to camp."

Arthur turned down the road towards camp, not really wanting to go back yet. He knew there wasn't much time left before the Pinkertons descended on their camp, but he decided to take the chance. Instead of taking the next turn to camp, he turned the opposite direction.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"I thought we'd go see Hamish, that feller who lost his leg in the war," he said.

"Okay, so long as I can get some rest."

They arrived at Hamish's cabin to see him sitting outside cleaning his gun.

"Hey, Arthur," he greeted them, "And Grace, right?"

"Yes, how are you?" she said, sliding off Smokey's back.

"Better than you look, no offense," Hamish joked, "You alright?"

"None taken, and I will be. Just need some rest, if you have somewhere I can lie down," she said.

"Of course, come in," Hamish led them inside and let Grace lie down on his bed, "Hope you don't mind, I haven't, uh, cleaned it in a bit."

"I've slept on worse," Grace said with a smile before closing her eyes.

"So how have you been keeping?" Hamish asked Arthur, gesturing for him to sit at the table.

"Oh, just dandy," Arthur sat down and Hamish poured him a cup of coffee, "And you?"

"Fine, fine, I–" he suddenly stopped, his eyes widening as he looked out the window, "Whoa, they weren't lying."

Arthur stood and looked. The largest boar he had ever seen was snuffling in the grass by the outhouse. "Holy hell."

"Saw some cattle gored not too long ago, heard of other animals getting gored too. Didn't think it was real. C'mon, let's go take care of it," Hamish grabbed his rifle and ran out the door. He aimed at the boar and shot at it, but it took off running. "Damn, I thought I got him! Quick, let's get the horses!"

Arthur jumped on his horse and Hamish on his and they galloped in the direction the boar had fled. The beast was quicker than they thought as they quickly lost sight of it when it ran into the trees and seemed to disappear.

"Damn it, I don't see where he went," Arthur said.

"Tracks go this way," Hamish led the way up the hill and through the trees. After a few moments, he stopped. "Looks like he's been through here twice. Tracks lead up the hill there, and to the left here, but I can't tell which is fresher. Let's split up. You go up, I'll go onwards."

Arthur headed up the hill, getting his rifle ready. He had just spotted a dead wolf, clearly gored to death, and was about to investigate when he heard gunshots down the other side of the hill. He quickly galloped towards the sound. The gunshots had stopped firing and as Arthur rounded a large boulder, he saw why.

"Oh, no," he said, jumping off Smokey and running to his friend, lying on the ground with a pool of blood rapidly spreading beneath him.

"Got thrown and the bastard hog got me," Hamish said, looking down at the large wound in his side.

"Just hold on, I'll go get Grace, she can help," Arthur started to get up, but Hamish grabbed his arm.

"Nah, it's too late, just.. take Buell for me, would ya? He's a good horse. Stubborn, but strong." Hamish let out a soft laugh, as if in disbelief at what happened, then quickly lay still.

"Hamish?" Arthur shook him, but he didn't move. "Goddammit." He looked up to see Buell standing nearby then suddenly threw up his head. Arthur turned to see the giant boar heading toward him. He wasted no time in lifting his rifle and shooting the big bastard multiple times before it fell dead on top of Hamish's body.

Arthur tried to push the boar off of Hamish, but it was far too heavy. He watched as Buell cautiously moved closer and nuzzled his owner's face.

"Sorry, boy, but he's gone," Arthur reached out to pet him, "But I think I got someone who will take good care of you." He led Buell to his horse, mounted up, and rode back to Hamish's cabin. He hitched the horses outside and went in. It felt strange, like he was breaking in. Grace was still fast asleep so he let her be.

Night had fallen when she finally woke up.

"Oh, I'm sorry for sleeping for so long," she said, standing up and stretching.

"'s okay," Arthur said and offered her a bowl of baked beans.

"Thanks," she sat down and started to eat, "Where's Hamish?"

To her shock, Arthur explained what had happened. "I went back, tied a rope around the boar and had Smokey help pull it off Hamish. Then I brought him down, buried him just by the lake."

"I'm so sorry," she teared up, "He was very nice and I'm sorry you didn't get to spend more time with him."

Arthur looked at her, seeing that she looked better and wasn't so grey and pale. Her cheeks were starting to look rosy again. He then realised he had not one but two things for her. When she had finished eating, he took her hand and led her outside.

"So, Buell needs a new owner," he said, petting the big cremello horse, "And I think he needs someone who is experienced in stubbornness."

"Of course," Grace smiled and took over petting Buell who lowered his head to hers, "I know you'll miss Hamish but I promise I'll take care of you."

As Grace was petting her new horse, Arthur looked through his saddlebags for the small box he had kept there for at least a couple of months. It felt like so long ago. He should've asked her when he had the chance then. Maybe none of them would be in the mess they were now.

"I have just one more thing," he said, unsure if she had heard him with his heart beating so loudly in his chest. She looked at him curiously. "I know this isn't the best time, but I don't think we have that luxury anymore. Sorry, I want to do this properly." He got down on one knee and held out the box towards her, opening it. "Grace Bellerose, will you marry me?"

She nodded eagerly, barely saying yes as she lunged forward to kiss him, nearly knocking him off balance. He stood, still kissing her and holding the ring box.

"Um, where's the ring?" she asked, looking at the box confused.

"What? It was–" he panicked and looked in the box to see the ring firmly inside. He looked at Grace who was smiling broadly, "Shut up," he playfully pushed her then took out the ring to put it on her finger.

"It's perfect," she whispered, admiring it on her hand before kissing him again.

"At least we have this," he said sadly, "I don't know if we got time to actually get married."

Grace thought for a moment. "Let's go to Valentine tomorrow. The pastor at the chapel might do it."

"Sure," Arthur kissed her, "We better rest up then."

They were wed the following day in Valentine after Grace had convinced the pastor to overlook the usual formalities with a donation. A passing couple named Andrew and Maggie agreed to stand in as witnesses. Andrew offered Arthur the use of his own wedding ring for the ceremony so long as he returned it afterward. Arthur gave them some money in thanks afterward.

"Best of luck," Andrew said with a smile before continuing down the road with Maggie.

Grace kept looking at the marriage certificate tightly gripped in her hands as if afraid it would disappear.

"So, Mrs. Morgan," Arthur took her hand as they walked to their horses, "Someone has finally made an honest woman out of you."

"Heh, only took a century to do it," she said as happy tears ran down her face.

They kissed as long as they allowed themselves to do so, knowing they didn't have much time for celebration. They knew they needed to return to camp as soon as possible, but they could enjoy the time riding back as they always did, but this time as husband and wife.


AN - Would you like to read more of Grace's backstory while I procrastinate on writing the next chapter? This site won't let me add links, but if you pop over to AO3 (archive of our own), I have the same user name (jentucker) and the story is called 'Oh My Lovely'.