Johanna awoke early the next morning, having headed to bed early to wake up before anyone else to set her plan into motion. The previous evening's talks with the other girls had Johanna concerned for her own safety. If Miss Grimshaw had the gall to hit girls for 'failing' in the old hag's expectations, Johanna knew that the woman wouldn't hesitate to hit her when the opportunity presented itself. Johanna was quick to dress, putting on a simple skirt and blouse from Mary Beth's trunk and braided her long red hair back before leaving the tent. It was still somewhat dark out, with the camp being illuminated by the main campfire and lanterns spread out. Johanna's green eyes landed on the campfire, where she noticed the sleeping forms of Sean and another much older man with a grey beard. Approaching the men, she noted the empty whisky bottles scattered around them. With a sigh and shake of her head, she picked up the bottles and deposited them in a crate that held more empty bottles. Karen had explained to her that the men used them for shooting practice.
"Johanna?"
She jumped, turning around to face Charles. He was leaning against a pole of his open tent, the sleeping form of Javier behind him. Charles rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he focused on her, a frown on his face. "Charles…sorry, did I wake you?" Johanna whispered as she placed a hand over her heart as it beat fast in her chest.
Charles looked where her hand was, and his brows creased as he realised he had spooked her. In an instant, the frown and creased brows were gone. "No," He shook his head. "I was already awake. What are you doing up early?" Charles stepped away from his tent, his eyes landing on Sean and the other man briefly with a scowl before he met her gaze.
Johanna gave him a small sweet smile. "Thought I'd get a head start on some chores. Need to impress the den mother." She joked, alluding to Miss Grimshaw. Charles smirked at her, a faint chortle escaping his lips. He understood her completely. He had not even been with the gang for a year, but Charles observed everything in those short seven months. He had come to see how Miss Grimshaw treated the women in the camp, while Dutch revered the older woman in a way that made her untouchable and enabled her to get away with what she wanted.
"Is that what she spoke to you about last night?" Charles asked the young woman. Johanna nodded, which made Charles nod in kind. "Best not to aggravate her."
"Don't worry, I have a plan," Johanna answered with a smirk, which made Charles' brows crease again, concern evident on his face. "I figured…that if I come off as too good at my chore, it will leave the hag speechless and nothing to complain about. I mean, how poorly would it be for her to complain about someone who does a spectacular job?" Charles' brows rose slightly, impressed and amused by the redhead's statement.
"Well, don't let me keep you," Charles spoke, moving away from her.
Johanna watched the dark-skinned man go. Charles Smith was a man of very few words she'd come to notice, but he was also somewhere who had a sense of honour and compassion. Johanna knew she could respect the man and seek him out if she ever needed to, yet it was with that thought the regret bubbled in her mind that she wasn't here to make friends but betray him and the rest of his friends. Johanna shook her head, leaving the central campfire and heading over to Pearson's caravan, where the large man was begrudgingly awake. "Mornin' Pearson." She greeted him, gaining his attention.
"Ah, Miss Johanna, mornin'." He greeted back as he lifted a large iron pot onto one of the makeshift kitchen benches. "Breakfast is nowhere near ready, I'm 'fraid."
Johanna shook her head. "I've actually come to see if you need a hand." She walked up to the bench, standing opposite the man as he looked at her with confusion.
"A hand?" Pearson wasn't used to people offering to help him prepare meals for the camp. He normally had to ask someone or get Miss Grimshaw to get one of the girls. Even getting some fresh meat in was hard. "Sure…yes!" He was rather gleeful at her assistance. "If you'd been kind to work on getting the oats in, I can get the water."
Johanna nodded, moving around the bench to join him on his side as Pearson lifted up the sack of oats. He advised her to use about twenty cups of the oats before he left her alone. Johanna undid the ties to open the top of the sack, inspecting its contents before she began to scoop them into the pot with the utilises Pearson left her. While waiting on the man, Johanna inspected the small cooking fire by the kitchen and noticed that it hadn't been lit yet. Gathering up some firewood stacked up the caravan, she got to work on getting the fire going, building up a nice small flame. Stepping back, the redhead smiled at her work just as Pearson was walking back over, a large bucket of water in his hands.
"Ah, beat me to it." He chuckled, his eyes on the fire. "Good." Johanna rushed to his side, lifting the pot off the bench and placing it on the ground, giving Pearson a better angle to pour in the water. She took a ladle from the bench and stirred the pot as Pearson slowly poured in the water, allowing the contents to mix together. With the now empty bucket placed aside, Pearson hoisted the pot, moving it over the small cooking fire.
"You have any honey or sugar to add to it?" Johanna asked as she continued to stir the porridge as it cooked.
Pearson eyed her. "Got some honey, but why do you need that?" He was scratching the back of his neck, clearly confused by her request.
She rolled her eyes at him. "To add some flavour. Adding sugar or honey sweetens it up. Even some fresh fruit does wonders." How the camp cook never seemed to ponder this left her baffled. It was no wonder that his food was always so bland and lacking in flavour. Pearson seemed to think for a moment before holding up a finger as he asked her to wait. He had wandered off to his caravan, digging through some contains as Johanna watched him curiously. She couldn't help but wonder how many spices and herbs the man was holding onto and not adding to his meals. When Pearson returned, a jar of honey and a spoon in his hands, Johanna smiled and thanked him as she took the items from him, adding a few helpings to the pot. Handing the items back, she stirred the porridge again, the rich note of warm honey hitting her senses.
"Well, I'll be. That actually smells good." Pearson spoke, leaning in beside her as he sniffed its contents.
"Amazing what food smells like when you add some flavour." She jabbed at him, eyeing him from the corner of her eye.
Pearson scoffed, leaning back. "You sound like Arthur." He watched her work, his arms crossed.
Johanna had to purse her lips to refrain from laughing at his comment. After a while, he shuffled off, leaving Johanna to tend to the porridge as it cooked, the smell heavenly enough to attract the attention of the gang's captive. Young Kieran was groaning from where he was tied to the tree, not far from the cooking pot. Johanna had found it cruel that the gang had tied the man there, starving him and forcing him to watch as the food cooked, just got out of reach. With a sigh, Johanna stood, scooping up a ladle full of porridge and bringing it over to the man. "Here." She whispered, offering the serving to him.
"Oh…thank you, Miss Johanna…" Kieran groaned as he brought his lips to the utensil, happily slurping down the porridge. The man moaned, the food somewhat suppressing the painful ache in his empty stomach. Johanna looked down at him pitifully. She wondered what her father would think of the man being held prisoner here and if Colm even cared and wished to collect Kieran, but Johanna knew the truth. Kieran was a loose end and a risk to Colm's operation. The man was better off dead in all circumstances. Colm will want the boy dead simply for being captured, and the Van Der Linde gang wish to kill him for being with Colm. There was no way for him to survive.
Johanna stood up once he was done eating. "No worries, Kieran." She smiled down at him. When she turned around to return to the cooking pot, she froze. As he watched her, his face unreadable, Charles stood there, bowl in hand, waiting to dish out his breakfast. Johanna swallowed hard, looking away from him as she walked over, handing off the ladle to him. "Sorry…I know he's–"
"It's alright," He spoke, cutting her off as he took the offered ladle. Charles dished out his food into his metal bowl before dumping the ladle into the pot. He brought his bowl up close to his face as he inhaled the porridge. "Not right to starve a man, even if he's your enemy," Charles spoke flatly, finally looking at her. Johanna eased up at her words, glad she wasn't in trouble with him or that he'd report her actions to Dutch. She watched the dark-skinned man go, a smile on her face.
Over the next hour, others within the camp began to awake, many coming to collect a serving of the porridge that Johanna and Pearson had prepared, with young redhead collecting up any bowls and utensils, washing them worn posthaste. The entire time she could feel Miss Grimshaw's beady eyes on her, tracking her throughout the camp as she worked. Johanna didn't bother to give the old woman any mind as she worked, moving from one task to the next. Pearson had even asked her if she'd be available to assist him with preparing lunch, which she said she'd be more than happy to help him with. After breakfast, Johanna had made her way to the women's tent, where she found Tilly, Karen and Mary Beth working on mending and washing. Without a word, Johanna picked up some clothes and a sewing kit and began to patch a pair of socks.
"Miss Grimshaw spoken to you yet?" Tilly asked as she scrubbed a man's button-up skirt on a washboard into a large wooden tub. She had only spared Johanna a glance as she worked.
Johanna smirked, looking over at the woman. "No, but she's been watching." The comment made Karen snort. The blonde looked up from her stitching, glancing around to see if the woman was watching. "She might be leering around corners." Johanna joked, smirking at Karen.
Karen sat back on the wooden crate she was using as a seat. "Don't joke about that." The blonde returned the smirk. She'd dealt with Miss Grimshaw long enough to know that it was wrong to underestimate the old woman and that there was a good chance she was peering around corners, watching all of the younger women, making sure they were doing their chores. "That woman is as sly as a fox."
"Oh, I believe you." Johanna sighed, having almost finished patching the pair of socks in her lap. She moved on to another pair. "Is this what the day entails? Preparing food, cleaning, mending and laundry?" She asked the girls. All three women seemed to roll their eyes collectively.
"Sad to say it is, but once we're done, we get to relax." Mary Beth answered. She was squinting hard as she was mending a male's underclothes, a rip in the inner leg. "Karen is often on Watch duty."
Johanna's brow rose as she looked at the blonde. "Watch duty? Does that mean you use a gun?" Her tone was off, almost as if she was afraid to ask.
"A rifle." Karen smiled smugly. She wasn't afraid to shoot if she needed to. Tilly and Mary Beth were the only women in the camp who didn't use weapons, compared to Karen, Miss Grimshaw and Abigail. Johanna has met the latter, and her four-year-old, Jack, officially had breakfast. Abigail had thanked Johanna for preparing a 'tasteful and edible' meal, which the redhead had found humorous. "You ever worked a rifle before, Johanna?" Karen asked her, throwing the finished jacket to a pile beside her for Tilly to wash.
Johanna shook her head. "My ma never allowed it, though she did keep a pistol on her bedside table." She'd finished off another pair of socks and started on another. Karen had made a comment about how Johanna was too sheltered, but she chose to ignore it, as did Tilly and Mary Beth. While they didn't like the way Karen tended to run her mouth, they couldn't disagree that Johanna had come from a far easier life than them. None of them could imagine growing up in a good home with no worries or concerns, especially Tilly. Being a dark-skinned woman living in America so soon after the Civil War hadn't made her life carefree in the slightest.
Karen smiled, a smug look on her face. "Maybe one of us can teach you." The blonde assumed that the redhead was too dainty ever to learn how to handle a weapon. After all, Johanna didn't even know how to ride a horse.
The women continued to work until midday, when Johanna left to assist Pearson with preparing a stew for lunch. With her assistance, the four of them were able to finish all of the mending, and the others could work with Tilly to knock off the laundry, meaning that they would all be free for the afternoon. Something they feared that Miss Grimshaw would find a way to disrupt. Pearson was carving up some fresh meat from a number of rabbits brought in by Charles that morning when Johanna approached him, a grin on the large man's face.
"Miss Johanna, glad you've returned!" He beamed, his butcher's knife slicing through the hunches of a skinned rabbit. "Can you cut up some vegetables for me?"
"Sure," She moved around to one of the back kitchen tables. "Potatoes and carrots?" Pearson nodded in response. Johanna dug through the food supplies, pulling out a handful of potatoes and carrots and washing them in a nearby metal tub. Pulling out a knife, Johanna began peeling the vegetables, ensuring they were free of any dirt. Lastly, she cut them up and moved them to the side. She spared a glance to Pearson, watching him continue to carve up the skinned rabbits still. With pursed lips, she went back to digging through the food supplies until she found what she was looking for, oregano and salt. Something she knew would add some needed flavour to the stew. "Pearson, do we need water for the pot?" She yelled out to the man as she chopped up the herb.
"Oh! Yes!" He glanced over his shoulder at her. "Let me—"
"I got it." Johanna cut him off, rubbing her hands on her skirt. She went over to where the horses were stabled on the far end of camp, where a number of buckets of water were stored. As she arrived to collect one, Boaz trotted over to her, nudging against her arm for attention. Johanna chuckled at the horse, reaching out to pat the creature's snout. "Hello, Boaz." She greeted the stallion, the horse responding to the woman's pats, making some happy noises. Johanna let herself become distracted by Boaz's craving for attention, unaware of the man approaching her from behind.
"Boaz likes you."
Johanna jumped, spinning to face Javier. The man was standing lazily just centimetres from her. He casually brought a cigarette to his lips, breathing in the tobacco. "Must you do that?" Johanna hissed at him, her green eyes narrowing hard at him. Boaz was nudging her arm, annoyed that the woman had stopped petting him.
"You're too easy to scare." Javier merely shrugged at her, pulling the cigarette from his lips. He looked past her to his mount, surprised that the animal had taken so well to her. While Boaz was of an easy temperament, he didn't seem to fancy anyone else but his rider until Johanna came along. Javier stepped around the redhead, moving to place a hand on Boaz's snout, patting gently. "Good boy." He whispered, moving to pat the horse's dark mane.
Johanna watched the man, crossing her arms over her chest. She still wasn't impressed with the Mexican man sneaking up on her. "Just because you think I'm easy to scare doesn't mean you should." He didn't respond to her statement, but he did smirk and brought his cigarette back to his lips, which didn't go unnoticed by her. Rolling her eyes with a scoff at his antics, Johanna went back to her original task of collecting the water for Pearson's lunch preparations. Javier's hand gripped the handle as she picked up the bucket, taking it away from her. "Javier, I need that." She sighed, glaring at him as he stood beside her.
"I know." He spoke, moving ahead of her, still enjoying breathing in his tobacco. "You coming?" Javier didn't look behind him to see if the woman was following as he headed towards the makeshift kitchen. It took Johanna only a moment to figure out what the man was doing. She rolled her eyes at his antics before following after him at such a speed that she quickly overtook him, not even sparing him a glance. Javier smirked at her back. He could see from how ridged her shoulders were that she was annoyed with him, and he certainly had fun teasing the woman when the opportunity arose.
"Johanna! I was wondering where you got to." Pearson greeted her when he spotted her, the large iron pot beside him as he started the fire. "And Mr Escuella," He nodded to the Mexican man. "Giving the young lady a hand, I see."
"Wasn't right to have her fetching the water," Javier spoke, his tone dark as he looked at Pearson, the large man flinching under his gaze. "Why didn't you do it?" Pearson tried mumbling some excuses as he stood in front of Javier, unable to make eye contact.
"Stop torturing the man…" Johanna sighed, moving to take the bucket from Javier's hands and pouring the water into the pot. As Javier was staring down Pearson, Johanna went off to collect the meat, vegetables and herbs, dumping them into the pot and hefting it over the fire to begin cooking. "Javier!" She called the man out, her tone lecturing. He didn't flinch under her tone, his eyes simply moving from Pearson to the redheaded woman. She was glaring hard at him, her arms crossed. Johanna wasn't impressed with him, and she made it obvious. Pearson made use of the distraction, sneaking backwards away from the pair, though he was astonished that the woman had no fear under Javier's gaze. Larger and deadlier men pissed themselves under Javier's glare, yet it seemed to have no effect on Johanna.
"Johanna." Javier turned to face her fully, his jaw tense. She raised a brow at him rather cockily, her arms still crossed. He dropped his finished cigarette butt to the ground, crushing it under the heel of his boots. They continued to stare at one another, waiting for the other to look away. Pearson was watching from his caravan, his entire being on edge, not wanting to move in case he made a sound. Only luck wasn't on his side. Pearson moved slightly, knocking his butcher knife off the table, the man making some noises as he fumbled to catch it. Johanna and Javier turned to look at him, watching as he picked up the knife shyly. Placing the knife back on the table, Pearson hastily walked away, feeling the heated stares of the pair on him as he went.
"That's on you," Johanna spoke, glancing back at Javier. She went over to the caravan, collected a ladle and returned to the pot, stirring the contents. Javier continued to stand beside her, monitoring the woman as she worked on cooking lunch for the camp. Johanna did her best to ignore his presence.
Javier braced his left hand on his belt as he watched her, his head tilted to the side as his eyes ran down her form. "Taking well to the camp chores?" He asked her, looking back at her face, noticing how serious she looked.
She paused in her stirring, sparing a glance at him. With a deep breath, she went back to her task. "Nothing more than what's expected of me." Johanna knew what she had to do to maintain her place within the gang, even if it meant playing housewife to the Van Der Linde men. Elizabeth Lynn may have raised her daughter to have the skills to become the perfect wife, but serving a bunch of dirty and grotesque outlaws was something neither of them had expected for the youngest Lynn. Among the many things Johanna had been dragged into in the last month due to her father's criminal lifestyle. "Is there something I can help you with, Javier?" She stood up, her mouth tight as she stared at him. He shrugged nonchalantly, his hand still resting on his belt. Johanna groaned. He'd been so sweet with her yesterday afternoon, and now he was infuriating her.
Javier took a few steps back from her, leaning against a pole that was holding up a tarp on Pearson's caravan. He pulled another cigarette out from the inner pocket of his jacket and lit a match on his boot. Javier's eyes never left her as he smoked. He could see how ridged her body was from his eyes on her, her shoulders tense as she leaned over the pot stirring the stew. Javier smirked over the cigarette in his mouth when he saw the purse of her lips.
"Miss Lynn!"
Both Johanna and Javier looked in the direction of the horses, spotting Hosea walking towards them, a large smile on the old man's face.
"Hosea." Javier greeted, stepping away from the pole and taking the cigarette from his lips.
"Ah, Mr Escuella, didn't see you there. You keeping an eye on our guest?" Hosea smiled at the man before looking at Johanna. He stepped closer to her, bringing his face down close to the pot and taking a sniff. "My, that smells divine. Looks like Pearson's cooking needed a woman's touch."
Javier smirked. "Her breakfast was good too."
"Really?" Hosea asked, standing straight. "Sorry, I missed it." He brought his hands behind his back as he looked over Johanna. She shifted under his gaze, unsure if he was just being friendly or something else. "I must apologise for not being here yesterday when you returned. Arthur and I went hunting after a bear, and he is still yet to return. But seeing as you're still here, there was no luck tracking down your uncle?" Johanna immediately frowned, her head dropping.
Javier made a sound, gaining Hosea's attention. Javier looked at him with a frown as he shook his head. "O'Driscoll's." He spoke. It was all Hosea needed to hear in order to understand the situation.
"Oh, my poor girl…" Hosea sighed, his arms dropping to his side. He looked between her and Javier, observing how the Mexican's man jaw was clenched. There was more than he assumed. Without another word, he stepped around her and moved past Javier with nothing but a jerk of his head, expecting the younger male to follow. Sighing, Javier brought the cigarette to his lips and followed after the old man, leaving Johanna alone to her thoughts. The two men stood on the other side of the caravan, out of earshot of the woman. "What happened?" Hosea asked darkly.
"We tracked down her uncle, but when we arrived at his cabin…found it overrun by O'Driscoll boys," Javier answered. He spared a glance at Kieran, who was tied to a nearby tree in earshot. The boy was cowering, legs shaking as he listened in to their conversation, his head staring at his feet. "Charles found the body hanging from the barn. Been dead for over a month. Johanna wanted to see it…she…"
Hosea raised a hand to silence the man. "Say no more…" He sighed, shaking his head. "Poor girl shouldn't have seen that."
"No, she shouldn't have." Javier agreed. He was still glaring at the O'Driscoll they had in their camp, wanting nothing more than to hurt the man in vengeance for Johanna's uncle.
"What did Dutch say?" Hosea inquired, curious as to what his partner was thinking. Dutch hadn't approved of Johanna being brought into their camp from the beginning and having the woman still with them.
Javier pursed his lips in between smoking his cigarette. "He's not happy. Wanted to speak with you and Arthur before anything is decided." Hosea breathed deeply, his arms on his hips. The man was deep in thought, knowing what he had to do. When he finally nodded his head from making a decision, he said farewell to Javier, making his way to Dutch's tent to speak to his friend. Javier watched him go, putting out his cigarette. As Javier made his way back to Johanna, he stopped by Kieran, staring down at the man. "You O'Driscoll's killed Johanna's uncle, took away the last family she had left."
Kieran flinched. "I don't know anything about that…" He was staring up at Javier, quivering under the man's gaze. "I would never want anything bad to happen to Miss Johanna… she nice—"
Javier pulled out his knife from where it was holstered at his hip, holding it to Kieran's neck, silencing him. "You don't speak her name. You don't even look at her." Javier hissed, leaning down close to the man. "Understand?"
"Yes…" Kieran was blubbering like a baby, his bottom lip quivering.
The sight was pitiful to Javier. He hissed in disgust, pulling his knife away from the man's throat and re-sheathing the blade in its holster. Javier spat at the bound man's feet for good measure before walking away. As he approached the stew pot, he found no sign of Johanna. Looking over the camp, he saw numerous members of the gang eating lunch, including Arthur, who had now returned to camp. The redhead was sitting between Mary Beth and Tilly, all three women eating. Javier observed her. She seemed calmer than when he left her, but he knew that would change after Dutch and Hosea's conversation.
Dutch came storming from his tent as if on cue, stomping angrily as he made his way through the camp centre, gaining everyone's attention. He called out to Arthur, the man begrudgingly standing up from his meal and following after their leader, making their way behind Pearson's caravan. Javier smirked, knowing full well that Dutch was planning on taking his frustration out on the O'Driscoll boy.
Javier stopped to dish up his own serving before taking Arthur's place at the table, sitting opposite Johanna, watching the woman out of the corner of his eye as he ate.
"Oh, I think Dutch is going to harm that poor boy…" Mary Beth sighed, worry on her face as she looked towards Dutch and Arthur's direction.
Tilly scoffed. "Never you mind that boy. He's an O'Driscoll." She lectured, standing up from her finished meal. As she went to grab her bowl, Johanna stopped her.
"I'll take it." The redhead spoke, smiling at the dark-skinned woman. Tilly thanked her, walking away and leaving the two women alone with Javier. Johanna looked to the brunette beside her, collecting up the empty bowls but leaving Arthur's in case the man came back to finish his lunch. "She's right, Mary Beth, nothing good will come from it. His fate is set in stone."
"But…" Mary Beth spoke, rising to stand as Johanna did. But she didn't continue to speak, knowing that there was no point. The brunette sighed. "He just…seems so sweet." That comment made Javier frown. Their whole conversation was annoying him. The idea of an O'Driscoll being sweet was impossible in his mind.
It was Johanna's turn to snort, grabbing Mary Beth's bowl and stacking it with the others. "How you know he's not playing you?"
"Playing?" Mary Beth asked, confused.
"Yes, playing." Johanna picked up the bowls, sparing a glance at Javier as she left the table, knowing his eyes were following her. "Being all sweet so that he can convince you to untie him so he can flee in the dead of night." The two women walked around the back of Pearson's caravan, planning to wash the bowls and utensils in the metal tub ready for dinner that night, but both froze at the sight before them, Johanna dropping the items in her hands onto the dirt below.
Dutch and Arthur stood on either side of Kieran, the man's pants down by his ankles as the dark-bearded fellow from last night was crouched before him, a pair of gelding tongs in his hands, snapping threatening at Kieran's cock and balls. The sounds of the bowls and spoons hitting the ground caused all four men to look in the women's direction, taking in Mary Beth and Johanna's shocked faces.
"Ladies," The bearded fellow greeted them, unaffected by the situation.
Arthur's head snapped to the man, smacking him in the side of the head. "Dammit, Bill!"
With no words between them, Mary Beth grabbed Johanna by the shoulders, pulling the redhead away from the sight and rushing her back to the safety of their shared tent, passing Javier on the way who'd been in the process of bringing his empty bowl to them, having witnessed the situation, now too glaring at Bill for his actions in front of the women and the sight of having to see the O'Driscoll boy's privates to openly on display.
Inside the tent, Mary Beth forced Johanna to sit on one of the cots, kneeling before her as she took in the woman's beet-red face. "Johanna? Are you okay? I'm sure seeing them try to castrate Kieran was—"
"No." Johanna cut her off, swallowing the hard lump in her throat. She wasn't looking at Mary Beth but through the brunette. "I've never…" She started, unsure of how to answer.
"Never what?" Mary Beth asked, tilting her head quizzically at her friend.
Johanna's eyes finally met Mary Beth's. "I've seen a man's…lower…" Her voice trailed off, Mary Beth releasing an 'oh' as she finally understood. A silence passed over them, Mary Beth unsure what to say. "Do they all look like that…?" Johanna recalled the size of Kieran's penis, how it looked so small in its flaccid state, hanging in front of his testicles.
"No…they come in various shapes and sizes." Mary Beth chuckled, moving to sit on the cot next to the woman. "Did your mother never have the talk with you…?"
It was Johanna's turn to laugh. "She did, and I've read plenty of books. But seeing is another thing entirely…" Mary Beth nodded, fully understanding.
"Want to hear some of my encounters?" Mary Beth murmured, leaning in close to her friend. Johanna's face began red again. She sucked on her lower lip, unsure how to answer, Javier's voice in her head calling her naive, teasing her. Looking at Mary Beth, she nodded, making the brunette smile wide.
Johanna had spent the rest of the afternoon with Mary Beth in the women's tent, having been joined by Tilly and Karen, the three women sharing their intimate histories with men with Johanna, making the redhead blush non-stop. While Tilly and Mary Beth were more than happy to educate the woman, Karen found it more entertaining to mock Johanna each time, enforcing Karen's ideals that Johanna was nothing more than a pampered rich girl. Tilly and Mary Beth didn't approve of how Karen treated Johanna, correcting the blonde each time she tried to insult their new redheaded friend. After a while, Karen decided to leave the three women, annoyed that her friends were ruining her fun.
It was late evening as Johanna was helping Pearson prepare dinner that Arthur, Bill, Kieran, and John, Abigail's former lover and Jack's father, returned to camp after going to an O'Driscoll hideout to kill Colm. Johanna was breathing heavily as she listened in to Arthur discussing the matter with Dutch. There was no Colm at the hideout, but Kieran had saved Arthur, and in exchange, Arthur had asked for Kieran to become a member of the gang, knowing that if the young man went out on his own, he would be hunted down as a traitor by the O'Driscoll boys for helping Dutch's gang. Johanna had mixed feelings about the news, as while she was thankful her father wasn't there to be caught in the crossfire, part of her wished he had. To know the man had been gunned down would have been too easy, yet her mother's fate would have been unknown.
Dutch has taken the news well, his aggression from earlier in the day coming back in full swing. He'd stomped off to the edge of the camp, gritting onto his cigar tightly between his lips with his lover, Molly, chasing after him. Arthur could only shake his head, watching his father figure go.
"Everything alright, Arthur?" Johanna called out the man as he waltzed by here, her voice giving away to her hesitancy.
"Uhh…" He waved her off, going to step by her, but stopped, backtracking his steps. "No…but…it should all work out. Dutch has a plan. He always has a plan." While he said that, a tone to his voice made it sound like he was doubting his own words like it was a phrase he'd heard so often it had tired him out.
Johanna nodded. "I'm glad you're alright. But do you think we can trust Kieran? He is an O'Driscoll."
"We?" Arthur raised a brow at her, watching her falter. He chuckled, waving her off. "You're all good. Heard you'll be staying we us for a while. I'm sure the women welcome the helping hand." He spoke, making the redhead smile. Arthur approached her, gazing at the cooking pot and taking a sniff. "Doesn't smell too bad."
Johanna chuckled. "Herbs can do that."
"And I thank you," He smiled at her. "I can actually find the food edible when you cook it up."
She nodded, "You're welcome. Anything to pay you all back for saving my life and for giving me a home."
He shook his head, chuckling a bit as he looked around at the camp, taking in the tents and makeshift furniture. "How does it compare to your old home? Lacking?" The question made the woman purse her lips as she thought about how to answer his inquiry.
"It's a great shift," She looked away from him as she went back to stirring the deer and potato stew, a soft smile spreading across her youthful features. "I spent my entire life never allowed to leave the house, only books and chores to entertain me. My mother was scared," Johanna looked back at Arthur, noticing his furrowed brows as he listened to her. "Scared that the outside world would only harm me and lead to my death."
"She wasn't wrong." Arthur frowned, watching as the carefree smile dropped from the woman's face. In his thirty-six years of life, Arthur had experienced much of the cruel world he'd been born into, his mother had passed when he was young, and his father was an outlaw whose crimes led him to be hanged many years later. It was during his teen years that he was found by Dutch and Hosea, dragged into Dutch's ideals of living free, something that would come to shape him for the entirety of his life. "You stick with us, Johanna, and you'll live a life of freedom. A safe life."
Johanna watched him go, his promise echoing through her head. She wanted to believe him, but being who she was, she couldn't. She may bear the name Johanna Lynn, raised by Elizabeth Lynn, but she was also Johanna O'Driscoll, born to Colm O'Driscoll, with a deal to the devil written in her very bloodline.
