Where This Flower Blooms

by smeewrites

Effie Bartlett struggles to survive out in the Big Valley with her father, scambling to keep a roof over their heads as the West evolves with the new age. A fierce storm forces an outlaw to seek her help for shelter, and Effie's life is flung into chaos. (OC x Arthur Morgan) Rated M for graphic depictions of violence - the game itself is an 18 so read at your own discretion.

1. Chapter 1 - A Chance Encounter

Author's note: Okay, so it's been a while since I've written anything, let alone published. This is something I've wanted to write about for a long time, so we'll see how this turns out!

Chapter One - A Chance Encounter

Rain pattered down over West Elizabeth, dark clouds had lulled over the region for a few days now, threatening its gloomy saturation, and when dawn had broken that morning the wet weather had decided to join it. Down by the Upper Montana River some of the roads and trails had flooded, scaring away any travellers and wanderers, causing the local wildlife to brazenly roam among the wooded area. The density of the trees provided good shelter from the storm, and wild boars were lazily exploring the forest floor, snorting idly as they checked the undergrowth for any berries that had been missed by the keen eyes of birds and other wildlife. Just a few yards beyond the boars, a herd of deer were grazing, joining a lot of the other animals in the limited shelter the trees were struggling to provide from the onslaught of rain, the herd was accompanied by two bucks, who had positioned themselves on either side of the herd, offering some protection to the does to any danger. The hunter held her breath as she peeked out from behind the rocks she was hiding behind, a small smile ghosted across her lips as she looked up at the dark sky, glad she had decided to brave the flooded trail and make her way up along the river to find the game.

Carefully, she crept out from the rocks and dashed to cover behind a tree, trying to keep as quiet as possible as her riding boots squelched in the mud. Once she reached the tree she flattened herself against the rough trunk and counted to five slowly, then braved a peek at the herd, who were still grazing, oblivious to the eager predator a few metres away. She smiled again and raised her bow, an arrow already notched and ready to go, she pushed off the tree and lowered herself to ground as much as she could, eyeing the buck that was nearest to her. The drum of the rain against the ground had helped her stay silent, and she knew her scent would be muted with the dampness in the air, above a flock of geese cawed in the distance as they flew over, and the hunter wondered, briefly, if they were calling to the herd below to warn them of the danger they had spotted.

With her breath held in her chest, she raised the bow and aimed, exhaling softly as she steadied her arms, rain was dripping from the branches and sliding down her wrist and going into her sleeve but she ignored it, a small discomfort to pay for the game, she reasoned as she whistled sharply. The herd ahead stiffened, and the buck nearest to her raised his head, exposing a clean shot to his neck, his ears flattened but it was too late, the arrow struck his flesh and he went down with a pained yelp of fear. The herd were dispersing as the buck hit the floor, the boars screeched in fear and split off into the undergrowth as the hunter stood and made her way to her kill, she bent down and stroked the buck's fur for a moment before ripping the arrow out, she whistled again, this time much louder and more distinct. Hooves thundered towards her as she bent to heave the buck over her shoulder, staggering a little under its weight and struggling to not skid in the mud as her horse approached her. "Here girl," the hunter smiled at her trusted companion, slinging the buck across her back and reaching to her satchel for some rope to secure it, once her prize was secured she dipped her hand into her satchel and pulled out a wild carrot, "Sorry for making you wait out in the rain girl." The hunter murmured as the horse nickered and accepted the treat, munching the treat happily as the girl mounted her with a sigh, stretching her arms above her head and rolling her shoulders, the bow digging into her sodden back. She directed the horse out of the clearing and onto the flooded slope of the trail, scowling as the rain pelted the both of them heavily once they were clear of the treeline, with a click of her tongue, the horse increased its pace and hurried away in the unbridled tempest.

T

The ride to Strawberry wasn't too long, but felt drawn out as the hunter pulled her scout jacket tighter around her, shivering as she came down the hill into the small town slowly. The day hadn't yet peaked into noon yet the buildings were all lit up warmly and the streets were quiet, the townsfolk having the good sense to stay in shelter on a day as fierce as today. The hunter sighed as she reached the butcher's stall near the town's south-side entrance, peering through the downpour to see the butcher had perched himself under the rafters of the post office in an effort to keep dry. Even on days where the weather was as unforgiving as this, people still had to work their livelihoods, bills and taxes don't stop for anybody, the hunter mused to herself grimly as she nodded to the butcher in greeting. She slid off her horse and into the muddied street, grimacing slightly as the muddy water splashed up onto her already sodden saddle pants "Got a nice bit for ya today, Mister Flynn." she called over to him as he lumbered over to his stall, making a face as he took in the buck strapped to her horse.

"So I see girl, looks like he's got a nice bit of meat on him, how far did you go out to find him?" He rubbed the rough stubble on his neck as he watched the girl struggle a little to raise the buck off her mare and onto his table.

"Not too far, the trail up towards Blackwater is all flooded so people ain't braving it, but I found a good score in the woods by the river around there," she offered a small smile as his eyes widened slightly.

The butcher clicked his tongue and shook his head as he took in her muddied and wet form, "I'm not surprised it's flooded up there what with this storm that's finally rolled in, but you'll sure as catch your death out there if you keep going out when it's like this, I hope your Daddy knows what you're getting up to."

The girl raised a brow at him, "My Daddy isn't getting up to much of anything these days, Mister Flynn," she snipped and sighed, then gestured to the buck, "So how much are ya gonna give me for him?"

"He's a big boy, and you've taken care not to damage the pelt but I ain't one to give out favours, no matter if you went out in this storm to get it or not."

The girl narrowed her eyes but knew better than to argue, Mister Flynn was greedy and a hard barterer, but only because he was the only butcher on this side of the state so he made a good living off of his tight sales. The hunter knew better than to take her kill elsewhere, risking the buck rotting if she tried to journey down into Valentine or Blackwater to make her sale, she clenched her jaw slightly and nodded once, "Fine, but I want a cut of his meat, a girl's gotta eat and like you said, I ain't risking an illness going back out there."

Mister Flynn smiled, a cruel glint in his eye as he clapped his hands together and reached into his apron pocket to pull out some notes and coins for her, "A pleasure as always, Miss Bartlett, and you tell your Daddy I said hello for me, won't ya?" The girl stiffened at the snide tone and glared, her useless retort dying on her tongue as she accepted the cash, without another word, she mounted up and rode off.

T

The girl sighed as she made her way to her home just outside of Strawberry, her muscles aching and her skin damp and chilled to the bone from the cruel weather. The lights inside were all lit as she hitched her horse and stepped through the door, pausing to rip her soaking wet riding boots off of her legs, her riding pants clinging to her legs as she arranged them to the side of the door out of the way. The cabin was quiet apart from the roaring snores of the elderly man passed out at the small dining table, empty bottles of whiskey littered out around him as he slept. The girl clicked her tongue at the sight of the drunkard, debating whether it was a good thing he'd drunk himself into a deep slumber or not, with a sigh she made her way to the fireplace, her eyes narrowing as she took in the fading embers of the dying fire. "Couldn't have kept it going for me, huh Daddy?" She tsked as she bent down to poke at the charred logs, throwing another one on and hunkering down to blow on it, once the new log caught she straightened, taking in the empty bottles on the table, in the man's hand was a worn set of playing cards and she grimaced, knowing exactly what he'd been up to the night previously.

Her daddy never used to be the pathetic, passed out drunkard she saw before her. A few years ago, Jack "Trigger" Bartlett was one of the finest shots in West Elizabeth, a fierce and calculated hunter with a wicked draw game to boot. Back in his heyday, he ran a bustling hunting store in Strawberry, where he offered his services as a skilled butcher and weapons specialist for the town and travellers going through the state looking for the bigger game that dwelled up towards the mountains. He lost his wife in childbirth but remained a hearty family man, raising his little girl and teaching her the tricks of his trade, raising her to be a skilled hunter and a fine shot, up until a year or two ago he would have joined his daughter on the buck hunt this morning, he probably would have pushed them to push through the woods seeking more game and she would have dutifully followed.

But with his good business came good money, and with the boasting of excess funds meant he was an unwitting target to a man's darker pastimes. The girl could still remember the day he got introduced to gambling when some unsavoury men had visited his store one day a couple of years ago, and since then the addiction had worsened, leading to excessive drinking and a complete stripping of his personality. Jack had eventually let his leisurely pastime get the better of him, and he distanced himself more and more from his store, his daughter, his life and it cost them.

With the mountain of debt he'd amassed and his favour of the bottle becoming more than just a rumour the townsfolk they'd served suddenly became distant. Local regulars soon stopped coming in for their weekly game orders and hushed conversations about Jack's darker favours were soon a sad topic among the locals. His daughter stayed by his side, diligently running the store over it's hours and spending her free time outside of town hunting to keep their stock up, in the early evening his daughter could be seen locking the store after a day's work and heading off into the Big Valley, she'd return to the town in the early hours, her mount laden with game and pelts all ready to prepare the store for a new day, whilst her father could be seen across the street at the saloon, drinking the day's profits and gambling it away.

Jack's daughter had worked hard to keep her daddy's business afloat, but with the rumours of Trigger Bartlett's downfall to drink spreading out across the neighbouring states it wasn't long until a representative of the bank came to their door, announcing a new rise in "business taxes" for Strawberry and a hitched up price that they couldn't possibly hope to afford. With little choice left the Bartlett Butchers closed and Jack and his daughter were forced to sell their home in town and downsize to a small, dingey cabin out in the woods. Not much could be seen of Jack in the day, but he was still occasionally recognised by passing hunters and travellers at the late night saloon poker games, their breaths hitched and gazes downcast in pity when their questions about the failed business are answered without Jack needing to slur a word, watching as he would drunkenly rifle through his pockets looking for any spare cash to put in the pot on the game.

The sound of a steady dripping pulled the girl out of her thoughts and she tilted her head towards the noise, her eyes found a puddle of water steadily pooling in the small kitchen area and she followed the dripping stream to the obvious damage in the roof. She sighed and stepped the single cabinet they had and opened the bottom cupboard, grabbing a tattered stew bowl and placed it under the stream. "At least I didn't bother changing out of these wet clothes," the girl muttered to herself as she looked around for her father's tools, hoping he hadn't sold them to pay for his hobbies, she found it under his bed gathering dust and slung it over her shoulder as she headed for the door, "You promised me you'd fix that roof, Daddy. Lazy bastard." She cursed his sleeping form as she slipped her still wet boots past her clammy feet and calves and pushed the door open, bracing herself as she stepped back out into the onslaught of the storm.

Her mare was stood under what little shelter the old open shed could offer, she nickered as she watched her approach, her hand already delving into her satchel for something she could offer her companion as a sort of apology that she had to be out in the cold and the wet alone. "You know if I could have you inside I would, girl," the hunter murmured as her hands closed over an apple, with a sigh she withdrew it from the bag, the mare's ears flickered up and she snorted as soon as she was shown the treat, "This was meant to be my breakfast, ya know. But I guess you've earned it." The apple was chomped from the girl's hand and the mare bobbed her head as she ate it, as if understanding what the apple was meant for, but grateful that she'd given it to her instead. The girl smiled and patted her neck, then turned and eyed the roof warily.

The rain was coming down so hard she could see it splashing off on impact, but if she didn't' patch it with something now she'd be risking an indoor flooding, and Lord knows there was no way she and her Daddy had any spare expenses laying around to refit the cabin's structure. She glanced around the shed, eyeing the broken workbench that her father had stripped for cash a few months ago and bit her lip in dismay, the only thing it looked like she could use was some forgotten firewood from last winter. She slung the tool roll on the workbench and checked its contents, after finding a hammer and some long tipped nails she placed them off to the side and turned back to the logs. The axe was propped up against the far wall and the girl nodded to herself, silently affirming that she could get the roof fixed.

She couldn't do anything until she knew how big the rip was, so she'd have to climb up there and inspect it closer before she could cut any of the wood down to size, with a heavy sigh, the girl stepped out and climbed the small wooden fence that connected the shed to the cabin, the fence was old and rotted with age, and shifted uncertainly under the girl's weight when she stood bent down on the top, her left hand clamped down to try and steady herself. After a deep breath she straightened up and made a small leap, her hands catching the lowest part of the roof as she scrambled up, for once she was thankful for the cabin being on the small side. At least it won't be fatal if I slip and fall off here, the girl huffed to herself as she carefully made her way further along the roof, with each step she was careful when she put her weight down so her boot didn't slip. It didn't take long to find the damaged part of the roof, she could see where the wood had bowed from rot and split, she could patch it for now, but would need to look into refitting this part when it was drier. "We'll deal with that later," she scolded herself as she felt the familiar pang at the prospect of having to find the funds for a local carpenter, "This shouldn't be too difficult." She hummed, trying to ignore the noise of the rain pelting the rim of her Daddy's stalker hat as she took a mental note of the length of the wood she'd be needing.

T

Arthur knew he shouldn't have decided to ride out today, he'd watched the storm clouds last night with Charles whilst they were both on watch for the camp. But the thick tension with the looming ferry job Micah had cooked up with Dutch had gotten the better of him and drove him to cross over to Big Valley to clear his head. He quite enjoyed the scenery up this way, but the intensity of the rain had flooded trails and had driven him to seek shelter in the woods just outside of the budding settlement town of Strawberry. He rolled his neck from side to side as his mare Boadecia walked through the woods, he knew she had slowed up her pace to spend as much time as possible out of the open where there wasn't any relief from the wet but he didn't mind. As he rode deeper into the woods he pulled out his map, trying to figure out if he was still on a marked trail or not, he frowned as he studied, tracing his finger along the fine ink lines and sighed dejectedly, "Well girl, we either keep going and see where this trail leads or we turn and head back," Boadecia's ear flicked back and she snorted, not bothering to stop or change direction as her rider cracked a smile, "Come on then, maybe we'll get lucky and find somewhere to shelter for the night."

He rode on through the rain until he saw it; the tiniest of cabins tucked away off of a clearing, he could see through the haze that the lights were on inside, and started to wonder what type of person would think it okay to set up a homestead all the way out here. A hermit, perhaps? A rival gang hideout? Maybe it was a hunter's rest, known only to those who are familiar with the area.

Then he saw her.

What the hell? Arthur leant forward on his saddle and squinted into the distance, if his mind wasn't playing tricks on him, he was fairly certain he was looking at someone balanced on the roof of the cabin, bent at an angle whilst trying to hammer something down on the roof. His mare had increased her speed upon seeing the cabin, hopeful to find shelter so she could get out of the rain, he could hear the hammer clearer over the rain as he got closer. As he neared he was able to discern that the person was indeed a woman, her lithe figure wrapped in a scout's jacket and riding pants and boots, he couldn't see much of her face underneath the old, worn stalker hat she was wearing, but her dark hair was hanging in a drowned braid that stuck to her back under the rain as she continued hammering.

Arthur paused for a moment, bemused, before he cleared his throat, "Excuse me, Miss?" The girl practically jumped out of her skin at his voice, and snapped her head towards him. Arthur held his hands up in apology, "I don't mean no harm, I was just - I'm a little bit off the trail and saw you as I was coming through and wondered if you were okay?"

The girl had bent down to steady herself on the roof, her hat was pulled low on her head and he couldn't see much of her face past the brim, one of her hands was gripping a hammer tightly as she tilted her head at him, "I'm alright, Mister," her tone was curt, guarded, "What brings you so far off the trail in a storm like this?"

The outlaw offered a tight smile, he hadn't missed her tone, and by the way she was holding on to the hammer he could tell she was uneasy and had been caught off guard and vulnerable, "Ah I was foolish, took a ride out to clear my head and ended up so far out in this storm, I figured I'd just keep riding until I found some shelter for the night." He kept his tone light and honest, he had been looking for somewhere to rest up before riding back to camp tomorrow, he knew the storm wouldn't be forgiving to those who were out in the cold too long - and the last thing he wanted to do was catch a chill and bring an illness back to the camp.

The girl shook her head and scoffed, "Yeah, that's pretty foolish alright. Hold on, if you wanna wait there I'll just finish hammering this nail and I'll see what I can do for ya."

Arthur reached up and touched the tip of his hat up to her, she started fumbling on the roof for a moment before he heard the hammer resume its banging. After a few moments she nodded to herself, seemingly satisfied with her handiwork, and carefully shimmied her way to the edge of the roof and peered at the ground from her height, seemingly trying to make a decision whether it was safe to jump or not. The outlaw raised his eyebrows when he realised what she was doing, "Wait, Miss! Lemme help you down from there." He nudged his heel into his mare to encourage her forward, towards where the girl was perched and his arms held out.

He watched her eye him for a moment and huffed before she slid her body down and lowered herself to the floor as much as she could before letting go, she dropped and landed on the ground in a crouch beside Boadicea, rolling her eyes at him before she jerked her thumb to the remains of a shed, "You can let your horse in there to keep her out of the rain if ya like."

The outlaw stared at her through the rain for a long moment, weighing up the situation, his eyes flickered to the dingey cabin to the hammer in her hand, before he nodded and leaned to dismount his horse, grabbing the reins and leading his horse behind the girl as she led him to the dilapidated outhouse. Once inside Boadecia whinnied and Arthur chuckled, "See girl, isn't that a bit better than being out in the rain?" He reached up and patted her damp neck, the girl slid the hammer back into an old tool roll and turned to him.

Arthur glanced around the old shed and noted the broken rafters and half rotted back wall. There was an old workbench that looked like somebody had taken apart and ransacked for any parts that would have been worth anything, leaving the rest of it to rot out here in the dark. A mare stood over to the side, her ears flat as she eyed the outlaw and his mare, she nickered and the girl turned her attention to her. "It's okay girl, you're gonna be good and share your shelter tonight, can't have his horse out in the wet and cold all night if this storm's not gonna let up." She soothed her mare and grabbed the satchel that was hanging off an old hook on the wall, she dug her hand in and rooted around in it until she found what she was looking for, "Aha! I knew I had one or two left in here for ya, here ya go girl." She beamed triumphantly up at her mare and offered a cracked peppermint. The horse seemed to glance from Arthur to her rider and snorted, bowing her head and accepting the bribe.

Beside him, Boadicea stomped her foot and nickered, and Arthur tore his gaze off the girl and rolled his eyes at his steed, "Alright, alright, honestly girl, like I would start denying ya treats?" He scoffed and started looking in his own satchel for something he could offer his mare, his hand closed around a sugar cube and he held it out to her, she nickered at him and took the treat happily.

The girl seemed to soften a little as she watched how Arthur was with his mare, and he saw a small smile of admiration tug on her lips as she watched Boadicea finish her treat, then she shivered, as if suddenly reminded as to why he was here. "Come on, Mister, you can sleep in our cabin for tonight and head back out tomorrow, I'm hopin' the wind'll force the storm out east by tomorrow, it should be dry enough for you to make your way safely tomorrow."

Arthur dipped his head gratefully, "Thank you, Miss, that's mighty kind of you to offer."

The girl grunted in response and walked out the shed and towards the door, the outlaw followed behind her, he'd left his bigger firearms stowed on his horse, but his revolver was in the holster hanging off his hip, and his hunting knife was strapped on his belt too. Just in case, he thought as he eyed the worn repeated strapped to the girls back. "So," he cleared his throat and eyed the roof he'd met her on, "Your roof got a leak? That's some bad luck in weather like this."

The girl paused as she got to the door and glanced back at him, for a split second he swore he saw a deep sadness in her dark eyes, but it faded as soon as it appeared and she forced a chuckle, "Well, my Daddy was meant to fix that roof weeks ago, but he's been… otherwise occupied. Come on." She pushed the door open and stepped into the warmth, she moved to the side to let him enter and leant on the wall as she pulled her boots off.

Arthur looked around the small cabin, there was a puddle of water on the floor with an old stew bowl filled in the middle. To the far side of the cabin there was a dainty fireplace, some wood crackled merrily in the pit, it was clear to him, as he glanced around at the bareness of the cabin, that this girl clearly did not have much.

And she'd humbly opened her home to him.

A loud snore caught his attention and he glanced at the small dining table, the table itself was littered with empty whiskey bottles, and an ageing man was slumped in his chair with his head on the table, absolutely oblivious to the storm outside. Arthur cracked a small smile at the sight; the man was the absolute spitting image of Uncle back at camp, he wondered if he was in a similar state to this man here.

The girl came up behind him, "I know it's not much," her tone wavered, betraying her nervousness, "But its four walls and a roof - a roof I've hopefully fixed so we won't flood during the night." she walked past him and grabbed some old ragged cloth off hanging off of the single cabinet that was in the room, then she crouched down and mopped up the puddle as best she could, grabbing the stew bowl and dumping the rainwater into a wash bucket next to the stove, "I haven't gotten around to cooking yet but i was planning on making a venison stew, do you eat stew, Mister?"

The outlaw took his hat off and brushed some of his damp hair off of his forehead, "That sounds just fine, Miss..?" He trailed off, realising the girl was yet to tell him who she was.

The girl smiled warmly and held out her hand, "Effie. Effie Bartlett."

"Wonderful to meet you, Miss Bartlett. The names Arthur Morgan." He took her hand and although her hand was tiny compared to his, she squeezed his firmly as they shook and he smiled slightly.

T

"So," Effie said as she placed a glass of whiskey in front of Arthur, she'd sat him at the table - the only available seat left in the house - and told him to pay her Daddy no mind, he'll be passed out till tomorrow she'd assured him, "You ever down this way normally, Mr Morgan?"

Arthur smiled to himself as he stared at the glass between his hands, "I'm about this way every now and again, I tend to pass through the area around here every so often - if my work brings me this way."

The girl raised a brow at him as she laid out her vegetables and her wrapped game meat on the counter, "Must be interesting to travel for work," she mused as she looked down at what little she had to work with, an odd wave of embarrassment flowed through her and she stole a look at the gentleman she'd invited to stay, worried he was going to say something she pressed on, "What kinda job has a man working all over?"

It was Arthur's turn to shift nervously, "Oh I, um, I'm sort of in a - a free-hands kinda field, whatever my boss needs me to do, I travel where he says to and get the job done." His hat dipped low over his face as he concentrated on his glass of whiskey, rolling the glass between his two palms as he avoided her gaze.

Effie tilted her head as she eyed the man, the light caught the small, sickle shaped scar that was barely visible beneath the rough stubble over his chin, his hands were calloused and rough from years of hard work and the way he held his shoulders as he sat; he was constantly braced and ready for action, and Effie knew from her survival-hardened upbringing that his stance wasn't bore from an easy life. She hummed lightly and wandered to one of the two adjourning rooms, "I'll be back in a moment, I just gotta get out of these wet clothes, you can hang your jacket over the fire if you like." She offered as she shucked out of her scout jacket, hanging it on a hook next to the small, rusted stove as she passed to the tiny bedroom, shutting the door quietly as he stared after her.

T

Arthur let out a sigh as he returned to the old wooden chair, rolling his shoulders out of habit as he took a gulp of the whiskey that Effie had poured for him. Opposite him her father remained oblivious to the world, his loud snores breaking the cosy silence. He could still hear the rain drumming against the cabin, but the warmth from the fire and the whiskey had done its job to relax him; he focused on the table and eyed the whiskey bottles that littered the table and counted them to himself, then he spotted the deck of cards beneath the old man's hand.

The outlaw's eyes narrowed as he glanced around the rest of the room, once again taking in how bare and unfurnished it was, there were no ornaments or keepsakes on the empty shelves, no picture frames or furniture to prove that anybody was living here long term - hell, he'd squatted in cabins that were better furnished than this. The bedroom door opened and Effie stepped back out, smiling demurely as their eyes met, she didn't say anything as she stepped back to the counter and resumed chopping the few vegetables she had to work with, as she turned to throw them into her cooking pot the old, torn shirt she was wearing revealed a glimpse of her torso. Arthur could tell she was on the thin side but his throat tightened when he saw her ribs jutting as she moved, he looked down and chewed his lip.

"Miss Bartlett…" Arthur paused when she glanced up at him, trying to pick the right words, "Have you and your daddy always lived out here?"

The girl gave a small smile and shook her head, "You mean, have we always lived like this?" She gestured to the empty cabin.

The outlaw took another sip of the whiskey, he could feel a faint heat rising in his cheeks as he nodded sheepishly.

Effie put her hunting knife down and took the pot to the fire place, hooking it on the iron trammel above the fire and rifled in her satchel until she pulled out some herbs and tossed them in, she stirred the pot and let out a wistful sigh, "My daddy wasn't always such a heavy drinker. He used to run a hunting store in town, was one of the best hunters in the state for a time - he taught me everything he knew," she looked up at him with shining eyes, "I never met my mumma, she died givin' birth to me, so… but that didn't stop my daddy, he raised me good. He was a fine teacher, and he'd always be willin' to help out any travellers or hunters who passed through the town on their way up to Black Bone Forest looking for big game."

She paused as she glanced down at the old man slumped in his chair, Arthur watched quietly as she reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. The man shifted slightly but didn't rouse, "Then one day, these men came into the store. Horrible, nasty men, proper outlaw types, ya know?"

Arthur nodded slowly, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Well, my daddy was never bothered by whatever patrons came to the store, he was such a good shot with a gun he knew if anybody caused trouble it'd likely be the last thing they'd do. But these men, they got to talking with my daddy and took him to the saloon for a drink - my daddy always liked whiskey but he never drank heavy. Well, they were out all night and these men were big on gamblin' games, spent the night teachin' my daddy poker and blackjack - swindled him out of a day's profits too." The girl scoffed, shaking her head in disgust as she relived the memory, "The men left the town and moved on after a week, but the damage was done - the gambling and the drink had hooked my daddy like a common bluegill and that was it. It didn't take long until his new habits ruined his reputation around Strawberry, when he couldn't afford his debts he started taking money out the store, and selling our valuables to pay for his habits."

Effie's lip curled and she looked away in disgust, her tone was ladened with shame and her hand on her daddy's shoulder balled into a small fist, the skin stretched over her boney knuckles, with a deep breath she collected herself to continue, "I did my best to try and keep the store in business, going out and getting the game to sell and working the counter whilst he spent his days drinkin'. Then one day the bank turned up, said we were too behind on payments on some new tax, we had to give up the business and sell our house just to clear the debts we had. I hoped when we had to move out here that my daddy would stop and try and fix himself up, try and be who he was, but… I guess he just ain't got nothin' left to get better for."

The girl finished with a defeated grimace and turned back to the pot over the fire, fussing over stirring the little contents she'd managed to cook up as Arthur finished his glass and ran his fingers over the rim, "I - I'm sorry, Miss Bartlett, I, I don't really know what to say… I've travelled over and seen all sorts of places in my lifetime, met people from all over and it's never nice seeing how somebody's foolishness affects others." He winced as he struggled to find the words, his heart hammered in his chest as he tried to quell his sudden anger. Here this sweet young girl was, starving and struggling to get by, whilst her father lay passed out, still pulling the same shit that got the both of them out here in the damn first place. "Why don't you just leave?" He blurted.

To his surprise Effie cracked a smile, "Where would I go, Mr Morgan?" She chuckled dryly, "This town and area is all I've ever known, I ain't got anybody else but my daddy. 'Sides, he'd die out here if I left him, and something like that would never sit right with me…" She trailed off and stepped away to grab the whiskey bottle she'd opened earlier off the counter, Arthur watched her as she swiped a glass on her way back to him, his stomach knotted as he sat in silence, she refilled his glass in silence, damn near brimming it before pouring herself a similar measure.

She let out a quiet groan as she settled cross-legged on the bedroll she'd lain out by the fire earlier, taking a deep drink from her glass and hummed thoughtfully as she stared at the fire crackling lazily.

It wasn't like she hadn't considered leaving a thousand times before - she knew her father was gonna die at the bottom of a bottle or at the hands of some resentful gambling opponent, but still, where would she go? She remembered the stories travellers would tell her as they passed through the town; horror tales of running into robbers and killers whilst out on the road, being held up by ruthless groups of outlaws and barely escaping with their lives. She knew she and her daddy were damn lucky that their tiny little cabin was so far out in the woods, barely anybody came out this way and it looked so desolate people would hardly bother checking it out.

The sound of a chair scraping snapped Effie out of her thoughts as her father shifted in his sleep, letting out a low grumble before settling back to his snoring. The outlaw changed his position as he turned in his chair to face her, "That's damn fine of you, Miss Bartlett," he murmured as he put his glass up to his lips, "You must be able to handle yourself pretty well, if ya livin' way out here and takin' care of him. It's no secret it's tough makin' a livin' by yourself - 'specially with all the gang activity that's been goin' on recently."

The girl smirked, "There ain't nothin' to be afraid of in this part of the woods save the bears and the occasional cougar - or my daddy drunk outta his mind tryin' to find his way home." She snorted at her own joke, Arthur found a smile tugging on his lips as he watched her, his bad mood from earlier dissipating slowly. "So, mysterious stranger in the 'free-hands kinda field'," She mocked playfully, a teasing glint in her dark eyes, "Tell me, what kinda job's goin' near here that you were sent to do?"

"Ah it's something out over the river, down in Blackwater," Arthur waved his hand dismissively as he misled her. It wasn't a complete lie; the gang had been staying out in Tall Trees since December, mostly running small cons and robbing a few homesteads and stagecoaches - nothing major that had been noticed by the local law. Yet. They'd had a good couple of months considering, and had made it through the winter without any trouble, "Hopefully it's gonna be a little while until I gotta go elsewhere, but it's not half bad around these parts."

Effie nodded slowly, he couldn't tell if she was satisfied with his answer, "Don't you ever wanna just set up somewhere? Must be tiring movin' around so much."

The outlaw's lips pursed together as he thought for a moment, "Well sure, I'd like to head out way to the west - maybe buy a ranch or somethin' and lay some roots for once - but I don't know, things ain't always so straightforward ya know?"

The girl let out an amused huff before she finished her drink, "Ain't that the truth." She untangled her legs and slowly rose to her feet, "The stew ought to be ready by now, do ya mind grabbing those bowls I set out?"

T

Arthur sat on the edge of the bedroll in the half light, his pencil scratching the paper faintly as he reflected deeply onto the page. He'd taken his time drawing Effie sat in front of the fire last night, trying to capture the the little things; like the way the hair that had fallen out her braid dried into soft curls or the faint freckles that dusted her nose and cheeks. He smiled as he looked over his entry, deciding he'd finish it off back at camp later. He stood and rolled the bedroll up, he checked his gunbelt and opened his sachel, digging in and pulling out a few handbills before he safely stored his journal.

He went to leave them under a whiskey bottle on the table but paused; at some point in the night her father had stumbled off into the other bedroom, taking no notice of Arthur laying in front of the fire. He'd probably not be up for a while, but he didn't want him finding the money before Effie, his lips pursed as he looked at the door to her small bedroom and exhaled quietly, weighing up his options. Before he could dissuade himself, he made his way to the door and quietly pushed the door open. The sun hadn't risen properly yet, so the room was dark save the light from the doorway, Effie was curled up on the small cot against the wall, there was nothing else except an old bedside table. Arthur's small smile tightened as he got a better look at the sleeping girl, a thin torn blanket was pulled up to her chin, a small fist was pressed against her mouth and there was a frown on her face as she slept.

He tore his gaze away and found himself looking at the singular photo frame that was perched on the table, he took it carefully and angled it in the light, studying it quietly; it was a photo of Effie and her dad, both looked a little younger and a lot happier, the girl was stood beaming with a bundled up elk pelt in her arms, the impressive antlers sat on the top. A long scope rifle was slung on her back and she was wearing the same stalker hat, her daddy was stood next to her smiling proudly at the camera. He could practically feel the warmth radiating from the photograph and he hummed to himself, placing the bills on the table and returning the frame carefully.

Arthur left the cabin as quietly as he could, leading Boadicea out and walking a little way from the home before mounting up and riding off. He was relieved to see the pale sky with the sun rising, the dark storm clouds from the day before nowhere to be seen, the outlaw let Boadicea settle into a slow walk as he made his way over the river, crossing into Great Plains.

As he passed into the lush forest of Tall Trees he found himself wondering if Effie had woken up yet, if she'd found the cash he'd left as thanks and hoped she'd not let it go to waste on her daddy's habits. His heart lurched as he remembered the look on her face as she'd told him how her father had lost her everything, he'd seen the signs and could imagine the predicament she was in - maybe he was struggling with it so much because he saw so much of his younger self in her, he remembered how his father Lyle had been no better when he was alive, how he'd struggled to keep himself and his father fed and clothed whilst his father remained the angry, violent and bitter drunk he had been for so long Arthur couldn't remember him being any different.

The outlaw pulled on his reins as he jolted with the sudden memory rush, beneath him, Boadicea halted and snorted. But Arthur's mind was rushing in turmoil, suddenly he felt the urge to turn around and make his way back, to find Effie again and somehow help her get out and away from that cabin. Maybe she wasn't so welcoming because she wanted to be - maybe her warm hospitality had been a kind of cry for help? He should head back, shouldn't he? He should've at least waited around to say thank Effie properly, to make sure she was gonna be okay out there by herself. He twisted in his saddle and looked out over Great Plains towards the Upper Montana River, beyond the river he could see the woods in the distance, if he turned back he now he'd get to the cabin before noon, he could stop and hunt something along the way, maybe -

"Who's there? Turn around!" A sharp voice called out to him from behind the trees behind him, Arthur swung his head back around.

"It's me, Arthur!" He called back, and a figure stepped out, the outlaw recognised the shape of a carbine repeater in their hands as they approached.

"I figured you might've drowned in that storm last night," Arthur bristled slightly as he recognised the jeering tone, "Where'd you get to? A nice, dry hotel bed? Pay a woman to keep ya warm?"

John Marston meant well, and was only playing around, but after what he'd done to the gang - what he'd done to his family, Arthur wasn't in the joking mood with him. Not anymore. "Yeah, figured I'd knock her up and run out on her." He drawled back, his sarcastic tone adding a harsh bite.

John rolled his eyes as Arthur dismounted and brushed past him with Boadicea following after him, "You ever gonna let that go?" He shouted as the older outlaw walked deeper into the forest to camp.

Arthur ignored him and continued leading his mare through the woods until the lush undergrowth opened up to a small clearing. The camp was already buzzing with activity; Mr Pearson was stood over by his wagon, busying himself by skinning some rabbits somebody had brought to him, Miss Grimshshaw was sat at a table with Mary-Beth and Tilly, stitching some of the gang members' clothes that had suffered wear and tear from living outside. He could see some others sat around the main campfire, some drinking their morning coffee and others polishing their weapons. Mr Strauss looked up from his seat as Arthur hitched Boadicea and reached into his satchel for her brush, "Ah, Mister Morgan!" Arthur groaned to himself as he started brushing his mare down, "Mister Morgan, do you have a moment?"

"Mister Strauss," the outlaw greeted brusquely, returning his brush to his satchel as he turned to face the Austrian, his eyes fell on the open ledger before him and narrowed his eyes at the list of names he'd been writing out, "You look like you've been busy."

The older man let out a cynical chuckle and pushed his circle frames further up his nose, "I've been offering those decency and kindness where others have failed to, Mr Morgan."

Arthur rolled his eyes, "Right, because lending money to poor desperate souls who no one in their right mind would even loan them a damn coat is kind and decent?" He sneered in disgust as he pulled out a packet of cigarettes, "I don't know why Dutch even entertains this, we're meant to be helpin' out folk like that, not swindling them further for our own gain."

Mr Strauss scoffed and held up his hands, but his pale eyes still held their denigrating glint, "It's not like I hold them at gunpoint and force them to sign the contract, Mister Morgan. Anyhow, I just wanted you to know that I've just added four new debtors to the ledger. If I don't receive their payment within the eight week period then I'll be needing your skills for… persuasion."

The outlaw clenched his jaw as he bent to light his cigarette off his boot, he absolutely despised the Austrian's contribution to the gang. He couldn't deny that exploiting people who had absolutely nothing to give did have some advantages; some were forced to pay with valuables and deals that led to jobs that held good scores and takes, but the whole thing was just… rotten. Sure, Arthur had ridden with the gang since it's very beginning, and over the years he had done some damn dishonourable things, and found himself walking the line of morality more often than not, but that didn't mean he enjoyed inflicting suffering and pain on the unfortunate - especially when he knew how shamelessly and unscrupulous someone like Strauss was, and he knew that his fancy words and false promises had undoubtedly misled people who had nothing to give.

"You know how I feel about it, Strauss, just tell me when you need me to go and collect." Arthur finished his cigarette and flicked the stub into a nearby bush.

"Thank you Mister Morgan, I'll be sure to come find you when you're needed to… inspire collections."

T

A few weeks had passed since the storm had swept through the state, and Effie was glad to see the beginnings of a promising summer heat as she rode her mare down the trail towards Strawberry. Her father hadn't been home in a day or so, he'd started to be refused entry on games in town so he'd taken to journeying out further to Blackwater to satiate his hobbies. He'd had a good string of luck recently, one time coming home with his satchel heavy with handbills and quarters, slurring about winning a decent hand from some Austrian fella passing through the saloon.

Not that Effie had seen much of his winnings, it had only made her father more brazen, travelling away for days at a time and surrounding himself with questionable figures. Rumours had begun swirling again that Jack Bartlett was drinking with a group of outlaws associated with some Irish gang, Effie shook her head and sighed; for all she knew the rumours were nothing but the bored musings of folk who had nothing better to talk about.

But still, doubt had begun to swirl within her as she considered her father's comings and goings; his refusal to meet her eye when they talked, and his conversations with her dismissive and short. It was as if now that her father finally seemed to be making more money than losing it, he didn't need to be staying with her at the cabin as much - not when he could spare the money for a hotel bed and a hot meal.

A hissing sound suddenly came from the left of the path and Effie's mare whinnied and bucked, shaking her head in fear as she stamped her hooves awkwardly. Effie gritted her teeth as she was snapped out of her thoughts, glaring at the diamondhead rattlesnake as it slithered off a rock and into the undergrowth, "Easy, girl, it's okay," She soothed the mare, reaching forward to pat her neck as she tried to calm the horse, "Easy." She murmured as the mare settled, nickering softly as she eased onward towards the town. As Effie made her way past the Sheriff's office she turned and checked her cargo behind her, she'd made good fortune hunting out near Black Bone Forest this morning and earned herself a few pronghorn pelts and an unsuspecting deer that had been foolish enough to stray away from its herd and stop for a drink near the creek.

"Ah Miss Bartlett, what've you got for me today?" The butcher greeted as Effie pulled her mare to a stop outside of his stall.

"Just a few pelts and a doe, Mister Flynn, you know how busy Big Valley gets with herds once summer begins to melt the cold off of Mount Hagen," Effie replied shortly as she dismounted, heaving the doe over her shoulder and carrying it to his table, she stripped her scout jacket off and hung it off of her saddle horn, sighing as the air cooled off the heat from the warm coat she'd worn, she grabbed the skinned pelts off of her mare and turned back to Mr Flynn, who'd been eyeing her with narrowed eyes, his frowning expression unreadable, "What?"

"I saw your dear ol' daddy the day before last, he'd hitched a lift off of some boys. Not locals either, they looked real unsavoury types - and the law have been round and warned everybody of some gang that's moved into the area, call themselves O'Driscolls." Mr Flynn's tone was low and uncongenial, making Effie stiffen.

"I ain't seen him in a few days, Mister Flynn, you and everybody else knows what my daddy's like. He's been out over Blackwater a lot recently, there's been talk of a lot of development over there so maybe he's just out looking for work-"

The butcher let out a loud, uproarious laugh and interrupted her, a few people who'd been moving past nearby stopped and looked over at them as Mister Flynn slapped his table, "Now, Miss Bartlett let's not be so foolish. You and me, and this whole town knows that your daddy ain't a working man no more - hasn't been for a long time now. Hell, it ain't no secret that the only thing Trigger Bartlett can work these days is a lucky hand in cards and a whiskey bottle," Effie's jaw clenched and her hands balled into tight fists as she stared at the ground, refusing to look Mister Flynn or the onlookers in the eye, the crowd that had gathered seemed to give the huge butcher a bout of confidence, and his voice boomed around the town, "Now, I ain't sayin' this to be unkind, Miss, it's not nice seeing such a skilled hunter take to the whiskey and gamblin' like a baby to his Mumma's breast but facts are facts. And with talk of this gang roamin' around near town we wanna see the good people of Strawberry safe, and if your daddy's out ridin' with 'em-"

"I've heard enough, Mister Flynn," Effie snapped, "Now, if you could pay me for this game so I can go home, I have things to do." She stepped towards the butcher with her hand held out expectantly.

He shoved a few bills into her palm roughly and muttered under his breath, just low enough for Effie to hear, "Swear if your daddy brings any of those killers back with him, he'll pay for more than just that money he owes me for the other night, maybe I'll have you pay for him." He squeezed her hand hard and she fought not to wince, instead she cleared her throat and put the money away, before she turned away she lashed her fist out, connecting with his cheek with a hard crack.

The butcher fell back, howling as he clutched his face; the crowd gasped as Effie hurried to mount her horse, fishing out a few of the bills and threw them at Mister Flynn's feet. "Put this towards my daddy's debt, and I don't wanna hear no more talk of Jack Bartlett association' with any O'Driscoll's." The crowd tittered and parted to let Effie through, a couple of men ran forward to check the butcher as she spurred her mare off, ignoring the outraged cries of abuse as she rode away, her hand throbbing from the punch she'd thrown.

T

Effie had decided to take a detour to Lake Owanjila instead of going straight back home, the warm early summer heat of May coaxing her out to enjoy it, and truthfully she didn't want to go back to an empty cabin so soon. Out here, she could forget about her father's issues and the trouble they were bringing to her, she could pretend that she was out hunting to bring home pelts for her daddy to craft something like he used to, or picking herbs for him to put into one of his delicious stews that he used to have cooking all day whilst they were outside doing target practice, or showing her how to craft special arrows for game hunting.

A crack of reins pulled Effie from her thoughts and she looked up at the stagecoach making its way down the road, she manoeuvred her mare to the edge of the path to let the coach pass, nodding her head to the driver and returning his smile. Up past the path she saw a few rabbits frantically scampering through the undergrowth, with a sly smirk to herself she reached down and pulled out her bow, testing it's string as she grabbed some small game arrows. As quietly as she could, she dismounted and crept off the path and through the undergrowth, her eyes narrowed as she discerned the rabbit's tracks amongst the other sings of wildlife. She followed the tracks a little way further into the woods until she found it, gently nocking her arrow and exhaled softly as she took aim and shot.

She made her way back to her mare and fastened her kill to the saddle, dipping into her satchel and offering the mare some yarrow she had found a couple of days ago, as her mare munched happily she mounted and steered her back the way they'd come.

As she made her way down the road she slowed when she saw the stagecoach from earlier, frowning as she saw the driver with his hands raised, two men on horses were stood blocking the road, their guns aimed at the driver and his passengers whilst a third was checking out the coach. Effie slowly withdrew her repeater and checked it was loaded, then reached to her hip and felt for the hilt of her hunting knife, she didn't have to get involved, she could just turn the other way and head home - maybe someone had already managed to alert the law and they'd come and help them. She remained still on her mare, watching the men threaten the passengers there was a woman crying in fear as the man snapped at her harshly, and her frightened, wild gaze found Effie's.

"Please, please help us!" The woman screamed, making the men whip round to where Effie was stood, her teeth gritted as they raised their guns at her.

"Leave them alone," Effie managed to bite out, struggling to keep the fear from her voice as she aimed her repeater back, "Let them go and move along, and I won't tell anybody what I saw."

The bandit on the ground laughed and strode towards her, "That so? Just what are ya gonna do, girl?"

"If you don't leave 'em alone I'll - I'll shoot the three of you lowlifes dead, ya hear?" She warned, using all she had to keep her hands from shaking as the sudden adrenaline pumped through her. The men laughed again and Effie's mare huffed, her hooves stamping nervously as the man came close, his pistol trained on her.

"Looks like we got ourselves a hero, boys," he grinned, showing off chipped teeth, "A real pretty one at that too, say, what's a nice girl like you all the way out here on your own anyways?"

"Don't come any closer, or I'll shoot." Effie glared, her disgust from the butcher's comment earlier surged through her and her grip tightened.

"Just get her down off her horse and tie her up with the others, stop playin' with her, Jim!" One of the mounted outlaws called out, the man nearing her scoffed cockily and turned back to his gang mate.

"Relax, she ain't gonna do noth-" Effie took aim at the back of his head and fired, his head exploded and his body slumped to the ground, twitching as the last of his life left his body as the shot echoed out.

Before she could even register anything Effie found herself jumping from her mare and running to take cover behind the stagecoach, the passengers screamed as shots rang out from the remaining outlaws, the coach jolting as every shot tore through it. She sunk to a crouch and breathed deeply, trying to ignore the warm body laying on the floor close to her.

"Is Jim okay?"

"Are you kidding me, look at him!"

"You bitch! I'm gonna gut ya for that!"

Effie leant against the coach and counted to five slowly, steeling herself as she checked her gun again, pushing her doubt and fear out of her mind, she raised and looked out from her cover. One of the robbers was still mounted on his horse, and he scrabbled to raise his gun and fire at her, but she was quicker, and his body fell to the floor with a loud thud. Footsteps sounded behind her and she whirled, but was thrown back into the coach, the back of her head collided with the door and she cried out in shock, stars burst behind her eyes as she moaned, barely noticing she'd dropped her repeater as the man stood over her. She squinted as she looked up at him in the sun, his eyes were wild and ablaze with rage as he bent and grabbed her shirt, pulling her up from the floor and slammed her against the coach again.

"You shot my brother, you fuckin' whore, I'm gonna fuckin' kill ya!" His scream was so loud it reverberated through her skull, her ears ringing as she struggled to focus. She saw the barrel of the pistol and ducked as he shot, dashing forward and tackling him to the floor, he yelled in surprise and they scuffled in the dirt, Effie tried to keep her advantage on top of him, knowing the minute he was above her she wouldn't be strong enough to throw him off, and it'd all be over. Her hands found his throat and she grunted as she throttled him, spittle flew out of his mouth and hit her face as she tightened her grip, watching as his eyes rolled back as he gasped beneath her.

A blade suddenly plunged into her side and she yelped, her hands flew to her side and the man shoved her off of him, taking deep breaths into his lungs as she squirmed in the dust, her focus not on anything but the white hot pain emanating from the knife stuck in her.

The man stood up slowly as he recovered, he let out a harsh chuckle as he glanced at the scene, the captives had long since fled from the scene, "Well, I gotta hand it to ya, girl, for a moment there I thought you had me," his hand went to his belt and he withdrew his revolver, flicking back the safety and aiming it at her, "You put up a good fight though, I'll give ya that, almost seems a shame to kill ya."

Effie backed up in the dirt from the gun, her eyes wide as she stared at the man, fear piercing through her as she tried to back up and run. Her hand suddenly knocked against something metal and she didn't hesitate, raising the pistol he'd dropped earlier and fired. She watched his smirk dropped as the bullet knocked him back, his mouth slack as he looked down at the hole that had been carved into his chest, blood darkening his green shirt, she shot again and he fell back, the light dying from his eyes as his head hit the floor.

Effie's breathing was ragged as she heaved herself up, her hand tentatively feeling for the blade and screamed as she ripped it out, stumbling back into the coach in pain. She whistled weakly for her horse and tried to steady herself as she waited, her hand that was pressed to her side felt hot and wet and she was scared to look. With a few short breaths she pushed herself off of the carriage with a grunt, falling to her knees beside the man and ripping his green neckerchief off with shaking hands, she balled it up and held it to her side as hooves approached her, and Effie smiled in relief.

"Hey girl, it's okay now," She hesitated for a moment before she mounted, gritting her teeth as her wound flashed in pain and grabbed onto the reins, kicking her heel weakly, "Let's get home."

T

Arthur was in good spirits as he entered Strawberry, slowing Boadicea as he neared the butcher's stall. "Hey fella, it's been a while since I last saw ya, ya been out the area for a while?" The butcher was a mountain of a man, thick rolls of fat bulged off his arms and his apron outlined his impressive gut, his eyes were small and beady on his doughy face as he greeted the outlaw.

Arthur grunted as he dismounted his mare, removing the elk he had shot earlier on his way into town, he deposited his kill on the table and smiled up at the man, nodding to the dark bruise under his swollen eye, "What happened there, ya get in a bar fight or somethin?"

The butcher huffed out a laugh as he examined the elk on his table, his tone tight "Yeah, somethin' like that."

"I heard he upset that Bartlett girl this mornin', she punched him out in front of half the town!" The boy selling newspapers shouted over, grinning cheekily as the butcher's lip curled.

The outlaw pursed his lips and frowned, "Bartlett girl?"

The butcher waved his meaty arms, "She caught me off guard is all, she and her daddy live in some piss-excuse for a cabin out in the woods somewhere. Her daddy's a no good drunkard, gambled his business and life away. There was a time he was one of the best hunters around, but he ain't anythin' no more. His daughter tries to take care of him best she can, but they'll likely end up starvin' to death the way he carries on, she hunts around these parts and sells the pelts here. We just had a… disagreement this mornin' on account of her father, and she gave me this for it." The butcher scoffed and shook his head, "It's a shame really, seein' how their family has turned out, but if ya ask me it's only a matter of time before Jack Bartlett owes money to the wrong people, and they'll both pay for it."

Arthur shrugged neutrally, "Well, it sounds like she's tryna keep everything together, it can't be easy, livin' out there like this."

The butcher nodded, "That it ain't fella, but there's not much there of her, she ain't a decent meal to a pack of wolves or a cougar. But we've been told of some gang that's moved into the area, the O'Driscoll's I think they're called. Bad bunch of folk, they'll rob ya for all ya worth and you'll be lucky if they let ya live to tell anybody about it. Say, you ever heard of them, Mister?"

Arthur nodded slowly, his gaze hard and his lips were in a tight line. The O'Driscoll's certainly weren't to be taken lightly, and if they'd moved into the area then the town was right to be afraid. They were manageable enough, but only if you were any good with a gun, "Yeah, I've heard of 'em, they're some nasty fellas alright," He turned and fixed his gaze out to the woods surrounding the town, making a mental note to tell Dutch and Hosea when he got back to camp.

Not that he thought Dutch would worry so much; the ferry job was tomorrow and the gang was gearing up for it, this was the last job they'd be pulling before making their way out west, where they'd be able to live freely out of the way of the law and industrial age that was making its way through the east. He figured he'd make his way out this way, telling himself he'd come this way to see the last of the country around here, but now that he'd been told about the rival gang taking up residence nearby, maybe it wouldn't hurt to ride out and check on Effie.

The story the butcher had told him about the Bartlett's wasn't anything Effie hadn't told him herself, but it left him with that same grim feeling all the same. Memories of his father rushed to the surface and Arthur shook his head, trying to snap himself out of it. The butcher handed him the money and Arthur tipped his hat, "Best you keep yourself safe in town for the time being, Mister, if Miss Bartlett can do that to ya I ain't sure you'll survive an O'Driscoll raid."

The butcher huffed and turned away, his already red face darkening as Arthur mounted Boadicea and spurred her forward, heading straight for the western exit out of town and up to the woods. As he walked up the hill three figures sprinted down it, two men and a woman, their faces aghast with panic as they yelled to the lively town below, "Help! Somebody please, help us! We got stopped by these - these awful, awful men!" The woman sobbed as people started rushing towards them.

Arthur pulled on his reins and turned in his saddle, frowning as a crowd formed around the three, the door to the sheriff's office opened and the sheriff and his deputies rushed out, "Calm down, Miss, you're safe now, just tell us what happened."

"My wife and I, we were - we were taking a stagecoach, and after we passed the lake we got stopped by these three men," The man gasped, his arm around his wife as clung to him, "Said they were O'Driscolls, ty were all armed, ordered us to stop and get off the coach so they could take a look…" He paused a wiped his brow, his eyes wide as they darted over the faces in the crowd, "...And then next thing we know, this girl intervenes and starts shootin' at 'em, we barely escaped with our lives!"

Arthur grunted as he listened to the story, slightly impressed that some girl had taken on three O'Driscolls, he spurred Boadicea up the hill and round towards the lake. He soon found the scene, the stagecoach was in the middle of the road where it had been stopped, two suffolk punches were still harnessed and stood waiting patiently. On the ground in front there lay a corpse, the green waistcoat stained with blood and dirt telling Arthur his identity immediately. His eyes narrowed slightly as he cautiously approached, his hand reached down to brush his pistol as he noted the bullet holes that scored the side of the coach as he made his way round.

Behind the coach lay two more bodies, blood had pooled out the both of them and formed a dark puddle between them in the sun, "Jesus," the outlaw winced as he saw one of them had clearly taken a bullet to the head, various bits of skull and brain were scattered about, the other one had taken two close shots to the chest and had been flown back, his shirt ruined with the force of the bullets. He noticed a smaller set of footprints in the dust and tilted his head, his eyes following the trail to what looked like some sort of struggle in the dirt by the coach, his mouth going dry as he saw the blood that had pooled on the floor and looked back at the two bodies, wondering whose it was.

A deep sense of foreboding filled him as Effie flashed in his mind and he rubbed his stubble as he dug his heels into Boadicea's side, urging her off the path and up the hill into the woods. "It won't be her, she probably didn't have anything to do with it," He tried convincing himself as he rushed through the woods, "She'll be fine - was probably out huntin' or somethin'..." He trailed off as the tiny cabin came into view, he saw Effie sat on her mount in front of the open shed and he found himself smiling as relief sang through him. "Miss Bartlett, it's Arthur Morgan, I was passing through and heard about the O'Driscolls, I saw some robbery that had happened out by the lake and wanted to make sure you were okay out here," He slowed Boadicea to a halt just a little way off, as Effie sat still, Arthur frowned, "Miss Bartlett?"

The girl turned slowly, offering a small smile as her tired eyes found his, "Mister Morgan." she greeted, her voice quiet. She leaned forward in her saddle slowly and dismounted, as her boots hit the ground her legs buckled and she crumpled, her hand was pressed to her side and Arthur's eyes widened as he saw all the blood on her shirt.

The outlaw rushed to dismount and hurried over to her, "Miss Bartlett! You're hurt, what happened?" He cradled her head in his hand as he used the other to pull her hand away from her side, it had a neckerchief drenched in her blood clutched in it. He saw the deep, rigid wound and his teeth clenched together, "Let's get you inside, get this cleaned up."

Effie shook her head and raised her hand to wave him away, "S'fine, I'll be okay."

Arthur scoffed and gently slid his arms underneath her, trying to ignore how he could feel the jutting details of her spine and hip bone as he lifted her carefully. She was already pale, it could be the shock, he reasoned to himself as he all but ran to the cabin, kicking the door open and headed to the cot in her bedroom. "Okay, try not to move, I'm gonna get some stuff to clean this up, Where do you keep your health tonics?" He lay her down carefully and took her stalker hat off, brushing the hair out of her face gently.

Despite the obvious agony she must have been in, Effie gave him a smile, "Look around Mister Morgan, what you see is what I got. I think I got some whiskey but I can't afford any fancy tonics. I don't need 'em anyway, it's just a scratch."

"It ain't no scratch," the outlaw snapped as his fear fluttered back up within him, "Just - just lie still, I'll go see what I got on my saddle. Don't move." He emphasised as he gently pushed her shoulder back on the cot as she tried to sit up. He rushed out and headed to his mare, yanking the saddle bag open and grabbing everything he had; some herbs, a little gauze, a needle and a loose bit of dark thread. He fished out a bottle of whiskey and tucked it under his underarm as he hurried back inside, dumping the stuff he'd need on her bedside table next to her old picture frame and went to grab the wash bucket and some rags.

Effie hissed as he untucked her shirt from the front of her pants and peeled it up, he grabbed one of the rags and dipped it in the cool water, "Mister Morgan, I-"

"Try not to talk, you've lost a lotta blood and ya need to save your strength," He chided her in a gentle voice, gently wiping her side and cleaning it to reveal the deep gash, "Looks like a stab wound - and a nasty one at that." He muttered to himself as he wrung the rag out in the bucket and returned it to the wound. Her jaw was clenched and she gasped as he wiped the wound over again, "Sorry, Miss, but I gotta be able to see what I'm doin' if I've got any hope in stitchin' this up."

The girl barely nodded and looked at the bottle on the table, "W-whiskey…" She stuttered out, her pale hand weakly reaching to it. He opened the bottle and passed it to her, helping her sit up gently so she could drink it down, when she passed it back to him he could see she was woozy, her eyes fluttering as she slumped back down, Arthur picked up the needle and began threading it, then struck a match off his boot to prep the point.

"This ain't gonna feel nice I'm afraid." He warned and she grunted weakly in response, her hand gripped the edge on her cot as she tensed for the needle.

T

Effie woke up with a gasp and jolted up, crying out in surprise as pain blossomed at her side, she reached down and felt for her wound carefully, wincing as her fingers brushed against stitches. She frowned and suddenly remembered; Arthur. He'd been here; she remembered woozy images of him calling out to her, his hand brushing her hair out of her face and soothing her as he'd taken care of her wound, she braved a peek at her side and studied the neat stitches he'd applied for her.

On her bedside table there were some herbs, the bottle of whiskey he'd helped her nurse and a folded note. With a shaky hand she grabbed the piece of paper and unfolded it, frowning as she read in the dying evening light;

Miss Bartlett,

I cleaned your wound and stitched you up as best as I could, the herbs I've left for you can be made into a paste that should help prevent infection, grind them up and apply them in the morning and at night and you should be better in no time. I left you some food so you can rest easy for a few days, just make sure you take it easy and avoid anything strenuous and you should be fine. There's some stew left in the pot I made with that rabbit you had on your horse, make sure you eat, I know it's not much, but it's the least I could do after what you did for me when I was out in that storm.

I saw what you did to those O'Driscolls, you're a good shot - just make sure you watch out for knives if you happen to run into them again. Watch yourself if there's a whole lot of em though, but if you don't attract any attention to yourself they should leave you alone out here.

I'm sorry I couldn't stick around for you to wake up, I wasn't meant to be out this far today anyway but I'll be moving on soon, and I didn't wanna leave without thanking you.

Stay safe, I hope our paths cross again sometime,

Arthur

Effie lowered the page and saw the stacked tins Arthur had left by the wall and her gaze softened. If he hadn't bothered to ride out and check on her she would've died, he had done everything he could to take care of her, and had left without expecting so much as a thank you or anything. Slowly, she eased herself up off the cot and made her way to the kitchen, she was greeted with the warmth of the fire that had been left and a pot of stew was hanging over it, her stomach growled and she grabbed a bowl that had been left out for her and served herself, she took a seat at the table and opened the note again, her heart fluttered as she read through it again as she ate.

I hope our paths cross too, Mr Morgan.

Author's note: Aaand that's the end of the first chapter! Let me know what you guys think of it in the reviews, I will also be uploading this to Ao3 whilst i write and publish it!